At 9:30 in the evening, the work piled up on Li Qingchi’s desk like a mountain. His phone screen lit up abruptly with a few crisp notification chimes. He glanced at it, it was a message from Wen Zhiyu.
Xiao Yu: [Dr. Li, are we still doing the treatment? You stood me up again.]
Li Qingchi’s fingers flew across the keyboard. Unable to spare a hand to type, he simply called instead.
Twenty seconds passed before the call connected. Wen Zhiyu’s voice seemed slightly strained with tension, then shifted into a forced calm.
It was strange, but Li Qingchi didn’t think much of it.
“Dr. Li, how many times is this now? If you can’t treat me on time in the future, don’t just agree so easily, okay? I even showered early and waited for you…” Wen Zhiyu suddenly seemed to notice something, his tone carrying a hint of probing, though still in that airy, light manner, “Could it be… you’re deliberately not coming? Trying to keep putting off my treatment, dragging it out until I die of the disease?”
The clatter of keystrokes came to an abrupt halt. Li Qingchi raised an eyebrow and said with certainty, “Good idea. You’re pretty good at digging your own grave.”
“…”
Wen Zhiyu wisely steered away from that self-destructive topic. “So, are we doing the treatment today or not?”
“Based on your body monitoring data, you need it.” Li Qingchi answered while juggling documents. “But I’m buried in tasks. I can’t be in two places at once.”
“What tasks?” Wen Zhiyu’s tone was just like a leader checking up on his subordinate.
“Patient case analysis reports, and a drug development project in collaboration with the War Chain Department and the lab.” Li Qingchi paused. “Also a design company project, that one’s relatively lighter.”
“Design company?” A lightbulb went off in Wen Zhiyu’s head. “That’s our company, isn’t it? The project lead seems to have the surname Li too… Major General Li of the War Chain Department, that’s you?”
Wen Zhiyu pressed on with full enthusiasm, but Li Qingchi had always known how to leave room for discretion. War Chain Department matters were classified; leaking anything would be a dereliction of duty. Besides, this person was a coercer who stopped at nothing.
“It’s not me.”
“Oh. That guy’s a jerk too, he keeps rejecting my design proposals.” Wen Zhiyu casually slapped the label of “jerk” onto the never-met Major General Li.
“Too?” Li Qingchi keenly caught the word. Its usage here didn’t quite make sense.
“Just as much of a jerk as you.” Wen Zhiyu explained why “too” was used here.
“So, are we doing the treatment today?” Wen Zhiyu asked persistently.
“I don’t have time.” Li Qingchi switched to a more direct way of refusing.
“Then I’ll come to you, I’ll go to your place.” Wen Zhiyu tossed out a solution without a second thought. “How about it, Dr. Li? I’m pretty reasonable, aren’t I? Wait for me.”
The moment he finished speaking, the other party hung up. Li Qingchi glanced at the darkened screen, his brow slightly furrowed.
In the middle of the night, a sick beta, going out alone.
That perverted alpha still hadn’t been caught, lurking in the shadows like a venomous snake, waiting for the chance to snatch back this prey that had narrowly escaped… The thought surfaced in Li Qingchi’s mind unbidden.
He was silent for a moment, then swiped his finger across the screen. Out of humanitarian concern, he sent a message: Be careful on the road.
The message sank like a stone into the sea. There was no reply. He soon threw himself back into his work with full focus.
…
Walking alone late at night, fear clung to every step.
Coupled with his psychological trauma around ride-hailing cars, Wen Zhiyu chose the slow-moving bus instead, circling through most of the city. By the time he reached the War Chain Department dormitory area, it was already midnight.
The sentry post was heavily guarded. Wen Zhiyu was just figuring out how to talk the guard into letting him through when he looked up and caught sight of a familiar figure standing not far from the guard booth.
Tall with long legs, standing upright, as if waiting for someone, and had been waiting for a long time. He looked very tired. As Wen Zhiyu drew closer, he realized the person was Li Qingchi.
He quickened his pace toward the guard booth. Li Qingchi greeted the guard: “This is my patient, here to consult me on some professional matters. Please register him.”
The guard gave Wen Zhiyu a few once-overs, then handed the pen and registration book to Li Qingchi: “Register his name, entry and exit times, sign your name, and remember to report it to your superiors afterward.”
The process was simple, yet every detail revealed the strictness of the military district. Wen Zhiyu’s heart stirred, recalling that when he’d had his second episode, Li Qingchi had brought him in and gone through the same procedure.
“Why did you come out? Didn’t you say you had a lot of work?” Wen Zhiyu walked up beside him and asked.
Li Qingchi was signing his name with his head down, his wrist moving swiftly: “If I didn’t come out, could you get in?”
Wen Zhiyu leaned in slightly, his breath brushing faintly past Li Qingchi’s ear: “Underestimating me? I have my ways.”
A slight tickle at his ear. Li Qingchi finished the registration quickly and stepped aside: “Go on in.”
Wen Zhiyu’s gaze swept across the registration book, where two names sat side by side, Wen Zhiyu, Li Qingchi.
Li Qingchi’s dormitory building was an older structure from eight or nine years ago, but not too old, it had been renovated a year prior. Most of its residents were alphas, with no small number of S-class among them, which is why the air purification system was especially dense, preventing pheromones from interfering with one another during susceptible periods.
Wen Zhiyu was currently in charge of the design project for the new Chain Department dormitories. His eyes carried a politeness that exceeded his usual demeanor: “Dr. Li, would it be possible to tour your dormitory later? Purely for academic purposes.”
“No.” Li Qingchi refused outright.
“My current project is designing the new dormitory building for your people, and the design plans have already been rejected seven times.” Wen Zhiyu blinked, his tone taking on a pleading edge. “Help me out, Dr. Li? Let me find some inspiration.”
“Borrowing from others is the same as plagiarism.”
“I’m not borrowing your design, and I definitely won’t plagiarize. I just want to understand the mandatory requirements for Chain Department dormitories.” Wen Zhiyu explained.
“Indoor and outdoor, double the number of air purifiers, running twenty-four hours a day, no alpha wants to smell another alpha’s pheromones.” Li Qingchi led him to a small building and opened the door. “Besides the regular rooms, you must add a sealed isolation cell.”
“Why?” As a beta, Wen Zhiyu’s understanding of alpha physiology was nearly nonexistent.
“Alphas in their susceptible period are dangerous, they lose control.” Li Qingchi gave a precise analogy. “Like rabid dogs.”
“They bite?” Wen Zhiyu instinctively raised a hand to the back of his neck, a recent memory flooding back in an instant. “So when you bit me last time… it was because of your susceptible period?”
Li Qingchi: “…” His gaze landed on Wen Zhiyu’s damp hair tips. “You’ve showered?”
Wen Zhiyu swept the stray hair from his forehead back with a flick, water droplets still clinging to the ends: “Isn’t it obvious? From head to toe, clean as can be.”
Li Qingchi suddenly leaned down, his nose pausing beside him, giving a light sniff. His voice was low: “There’s another alpha’s scent on you.”
Wen Zhiyu suspiciously sniffed his own arm, clearly only the fresh fragrance of body wash remained. “Where?”
“There is.” Li Qingchi’s tone was resolute. “Chen Ling’s pheromone. Durian scent.”
Wen Zhiyu stared at him in shock: “Li Qingchi, are you a bloodhound?”
“I don’t like that scent.” Li Qingchi’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
“Then what do we do? Since we’re already here… how about you just bear with it?” Wen Zhiyu asked tentatively.
“I can’t bear it.” Li Qingchi turned and walked into the bathroom, turning on the hot water, then emerged from the bedroom with a set of clean pajamas and shoved them at him. “Go shower, then change into these.”
Wen Zhiyu took the clothes, hooking a pair of underwear with his fingertip and lifting it, a mischievous smile playing on his lips: “These too? Wearing yours, Dr. Li? Quite the unique taste.”
“…” Li Qingchi stared at him, his gaze slightly cold. “They’re new, never worn. Don’t wear them if you don’t want to, you’ve never cared about such things anyway.”
His tone was like leftover rice from the night before, hard and grating.
He’s angry again. So easy to tease.
“Off to shower then.” Wen Zhiyu flashed a grin and slipped into the bathroom.
As the sound of trickling water came through, Li Qingchi walked into the bedroom, retrieved the special medication Li Siyu had sent over, and injected it into the gland at the back of his neck without hesitation.
The medication’s purpose was to optimize gland tissue, but it also came with a key side effect: suppressing instinctual urges.
Usually he injected it for the former reason; now, it was for the latter.
He pulled open a drawer, where various brand-new suppression tools were neatly arranged: wristbands, neck collars, and restraint straps prepared specifically for alphas who had lost control.
For him, the susceptible period typically meant voluntarily walking into the isolation cell and spending it in absolute self-control. Losing control was an utterly foreign concept.
His gaze swept over the options for a moment before he finally picked a suppression wristband with moderate blocking strength and put it on.
Just a psychological barrier, better than nothing.
The bathroom door opened. Wen Zhiyu emerged wrapped in Li Qingchi’s pajamas, which were clearly a size too large, the fabric hung loosely off his frame, damp hair tips dripping water that soaked into the collar.
“Dr. Li, your clothes are so big,” he added with pointed meaning, “especially… that area.”
That was a roundabout sort of… compliment?
Li Qingchi: “…”
Wen Zhiyu was half a head shorter than Li Qingchi and much slimmer in build. Dressed in the oversized clothes, he looked like a child who had stolen an adult’s outfit.
Li Qingchi had long since memorized his tricks, knowing full well that responding would only invite endless pestering. The best approach was to ignore him.
He turned and took a fresh towel from the wardrobe, handing it over: “Dry your hair.”
“Thanks, Dr. Li.” Wen Zhiyu took the towel, a sweet smile curving at the corner of his mouth. “You’re so kind. You’re the best person I’ve ever met.”
This sudden sweet talk clashed with the scene entirely. Li Qingchi didn’t believe a single word, this was never sincere, and it was certainly never said to him alone.
“You’re truly skilled at using sweet words to stir people’s hearts.” Li Qingchi’s gaze was as calm and flat as his voice. “That junior of yours, is that how you charmed her into being so devoted?”
The conversation abruptly shifted to Chen Ling, and Wen Zhiyu frowned in confusion. “Her? She’s just a puppy that hasn’t been weaned yet, a little girl who clings to everyone.”
The moment the words left his mouth, he suddenly caught on, his probing gaze landing on Li Qingchi’s face. “You seem… especially interested in Chen Ling? Do you like her?” He grinned like a sly fox. “An AA romance? Dr. Li, that’s a pretty unique kink.”
“Psycho.” Li Qingchi rarely lost his composure, but he muttered a curse under his breath.
“Just kidding, don’t get mad.” Wen Zhiyu’s smile faded. “Let’s start the treatment.”
Li Qingchi remained silent, and Wen Zhiyu, lacking any experience with this, had no choice but to venture cautiously, “Or… the same position as last time?”
At the mention of positions, an odd silence fell over the room, a subtle tension spreading through the air.
Li Qingchi spoke, his cold voice cutting through the stillness: “What position do you want?”
“I’m fine with anything,” Wen Zhiyu said, feigning nonchalance. “Whatever position you like.”
“Let me dry my hair first, so I don’t get your clothes wet.” He picked up a towel and roughly wiped the water droplets from the ends of his hair.
Li Qingchi’s gaze stayed fixed on him, unblinking, and Wen Zhiyu found it hard to withstand. He took a step as if to leave, clearly trying to make a getaway. “Ahem, I’ll go to the bathroom and dry off in there. Don’t you have a lot of work to do? No need to keep waiting for me, it’ll take a while for my hair to dry. Go ahead and get busy; use your time wisely…” His steps were hurried, tinged with a guilty fluster.
But the moment he moved, his arm was yanked hard, and the world spun around him. His shoulder slammed heavily against the cold wall, his waist and abdomen tightly locked in place. Wen Zhiyu could only brace one hand against the wall as Li Qingchi’s scorching breath brushed against the back of his ear:
“The work is done, and I don’t care if your hair gets my clothes wet.” His voice was low, laced with danger. “This is the position I like. Let’s start the treatment.”
Yeah, right, “the position I like,” my ass.
Wen Zhiyu gritted his teeth. “Are you seriously using the grappling techniques you learned at the War Chain Department on me? Is revenge really that fun?”
The moment he finished speaking, a surge of pheromones slammed into him, and Wen Zhiyu’s legs went weak, utterly defenseless.