Even a golden nest or a silver nest can’t compare to your own little “doghouse”—that saying became vividly real in this moment. She missed her tiny single room, where she could do whatever she wanted, sleep whenever she liked, and act however she pleased.
Not far away, on the sofa, Wen Yan lay there like a corpse—completely motionless. Forget turning over or getting up; even his breathing was barely noticeable.
Heh… he’d probably do well playing a “deeply sleeping husband.”
With all kinds of random thoughts running through her head, Qiu Zheng eventually fell asleep without even realizing when.
But even after falling asleep, it wasn’t peaceful. She kept dreaming—strange, chaotic dreams with no logic or sequence. And then, at the end, it suddenly turned into a wet dream.
She couldn’t clearly see who it was about, and the details were blurry, but she just felt… good. Warm all over, her body soft and boneless.
As the dream slowly faded, she realized she was dreaming and could wake up at any moment. She felt reluctant, even wanting to control it and continue. But suddenly, she saw someone sitting by the bed, startling her awake.
“W-Wen Yan?”
The sky was just starting to brighten, and there was already some light in the room. She could barely make out his dark eyes, staring straight at her.
Under normal circumstances, she would’ve snapped something like, “What, sleepwalking?” But now, she only shifted uneasily—she felt guilty.
After all, it was his room, his bed, his blanket… and she had… a wet dream.
She could even feel a faint sticky discomfort. Qiu Zheng felt like her life was over, terrified he might notice.
But the next moment, she heard him ask, “Had a wet dream?”
Qiu Zheng: “!”
How did he know?
“The whole room… smells like your pheromones,” his voice was slightly hoarse. “Qiu Zheng, doing this in my bed…”
He paused, looking down at her from above, and asked seriously, “Are you a pervert?”
Qiu Zheng’s face instantly flushed bright red.
The sky was falling—falling! A model citizen like her, actually being called a pervert?!
She shot upright from the bed, retreating to the other side, clutching the blanket tightly.
This was too embarrassing—she had never been this embarrassed in her life.
And when embarrassed, she started blurting things out to save face: “It’s just a dream! How does that make me a pervert? Who… who hasn’t had one? Haha… Don’t tell me you think I dreamed about you, that it was because of you? No way! The person in my dream was—”
She didn’t even know who it was, but felt like she had to name someone to salvage her dignity.
But she didn’t get the chance.
Because Wen Yan’s expression suddenly darkened, and before she could retreat further, he had already leaned over her.
She fell back onto the bed, his eyes above her dark and deep, as if he were suppressing something.
“Who was it?”
Qiu Zheng chickened out.
In a novel, this would be the part where the male lead gets jealous and things escalate. But this wasn’t a novel—she decided not to complicate things.
“N-no… actually, it wasn’t a wet dream…” she scrambled for an excuse. “It’s just… ovulation…” She meant ovulation period, but that concept didn’t exist here. After fumbling, she found a substitute: “Heat period. I think I’m entering my heat.”
For the first time, she felt grateful for the ABO setting—it gave her a way out.
Her face was flushed, a few loose strands of hair brushing her cheeks, making her look like a ripe, tempting peach.
Wen Yan’s throat felt tight.
If she looked down right now and saw his reaction, she’d know who the real pervert was.
Wen Yan hadn’t slept all night.
It was the first time they’d shared a room so… peacefully. Yet it was more agitating than intimacy.
He had no intention of breaking his own rule—he wouldn’t share a bed outside of sex—so he lay stiffly on the sofa.
But he stayed awake, listening to her every movement: turning over, getting up, the rustling of blankets.
She was… so annoying.
Even going to the bathroom—she’d glance at him when sitting up, glance again when passing by, and once more when returning.
Even from a distance, he could feel her sneaky glances.
He almost got irritated. Why was she always… teasing him like this?
He tried to ignore it, but even with his eyes closed, he could imagine exactly what she was doing, what expression she wore.
Finally, she seemed to fall asleep. The room quieted.
But he still couldn’t sleep. Her mere presence made the room feel noisy.
Then his pheromones began to leak uncontrollably.
At first, he tried to suppress them, but gradually gave up. After all… she wasn’t that sensitive to his pheromones anyway.
With that excuse, he let them spread freely through the room—mostly toward the bed.
Without conscious effort, they wrapped around her, clinging to every inch of her skin, as if trying to mark her completely with his scent.
Desire grew uncontrollably in the darkness.
Her breathing gradually became soft and steady, while his grew heavier, impossible to ignore in the silence.
He didn’t know how long it lasted until another scent appeared.
Not his—but hers.
The faint, soft scent of an omega, blending into the room, even turning the tables and enveloping him.
A blatant temptation.
Wen Yan suddenly sat up.
He couldn’t stay in the room any longer. Thirsty, he planned to go downstairs for water.
But just as he stood, he heard a soft moan.
It was quiet, but combined with the scent in the air, it exploded in his mind.
For a moment, he even thought—what if she was doing this on purpose? Releasing pheromones deliberately, making that sound to keep him from leaving?
Thinking that, his feet moved toward the bed on their own.
She was still asleep, her small face flushed, looking… pleased.
He had seen that expression before.
She was dreaming—and the pheromones in the air made it obvious what kind.
He sat by the bed, watching her.
This omega, lying in his bed, under his blanket, breathing in his scent… was she in heat because of him?
The thought alone made his body tremble with excitement.
“Heat period?”
Hearing his ambiguous tone, Qiu Zheng nodded quickly.
The light had grown a little brighter now. She could clearly see the desire not fully hidden in his eyes.
“Um… do you have inhibitors in your room?”
He did.
“No.”
Her eyes widened—your family practically monopolizes the inhibitor market, you’re a researcher in this field, and you don’t have any in your room?
“In the villa?”
“Yes.”
Before she could relax, he added, “Do you want Grandpa to know you’re using inhibitors to get through your heat?”
“…Then I’ll just… wait it out. It’s fine, I can handle it.”
But Wen Yan didn’t let her continue.
Whether she could endure it or not, he couldn’t.
He captured her lips, finally finding an outlet after a restless night.
By the time they left the room, it was almost noon.
Grandpa Wen had just come back from outside, holding several large golden retrievers—clearly just finished walking them.
“You’re up?” he greeted with a smile.
“Mm,” Wen Yan replied, looking unusually refreshed.
In contrast, Qiu Zheng avoided eye contact.
So embarrassing. She silently cursed him—coming out this late basically announced to the whole house what they’d been doing.
Honestly, being called a pervert by one person would’ve been better than being thought of as one by everyone.
Now who knows what people were thinking.
She didn’t dare look at Grandpa, so she turned to the dogs to make conversation: “Grandpa, you took them for a walk? I heard golden retrievers have tons of energy.”
“Mm, ran with them all morning.”
“Grandpa, you’re in great shape,” she said sincerely. If it were her, forget walking the dogs—the dogs would probably drag her instead.