Sheng Mian, having just survived the first wave of her heat, pushed herself up with weak, trembling limbs. Her eyes scanned the room with confusion, as if trying to figure out where she was. The two rich, intertwined scents of their pheromones had mostly dissipated.
“You’re awake? Drink some water.”
A slender hand, pale and slightly flushed under the light, held a glass of water before her. Sheng Mian realized her throat was parched and downed the entire glass in one go.
“How did I fall asleep?” she asked sheepishly.
Shen Zhilin looked at her silently. Seeing that Sheng Mian remembered absolutely nothing, a flicker of loneliness crossed her eyes. “Maybe it was just information overload.”
Sheng Mian stretched. Her body was sore and weak; it was a struggle just to sit up. She checked her phone: 19:30. Outside, the world had plunged into darkness, save for the scattered lights from the neighboring building.
“I’ll take you home.” Shen Zhilin picked up a large jacket.
Sheng Mian hesitated. She was exhausted, and her mind was still foggy. When she looked up at Shen Zhilin, the overhead light stung her eyes. She blinked, and a shadow suddenly fell over her. When she opened her eyes again, Zhilin was standing right in front of her, her face silhouetted against the light, making her expression hard to read.
“Can I stay over tonight? I feel really unwell, I don’t have any strength,” Sheng Mian said, licking her dry lips and looking dazed.
Zhilin’s grip tightened on the jacket. “But there’s only one bed.”
“Don’t worry,” Sheng Mian urged, “I’m a quiet sleeper. I won’t bother you at all.”
The second wave of heat could hit at any time. Zhilin thought for a moment, it would be a disaster if it happened while Sheng Mian was on her way home.
“Alright,” she compromised. “Let your family know you’re safe. I’ll go down and get some food.”
“Can you get some cold medicine too? I think I have a cold.”
Zhilin stiffened for a second, then vanished through the door.
Sheng Mian lay back down and called her house. Sheng Yichen picked up. “Hello?”
“Where are Mom and Dad?” Sheng Mian could hear the frantic sounds of a video game in the background. After a few seconds, Yichen’s character died; he cursed under his breath before answering, “They’re out. By the way, why aren’t you back? Weren’t you just tutoring at a classmate’s?”
“I’m staying over at my classmate’s tonight.” Sheng Mian pulled the corner of the duvet to her nose and sniffed. It smelled wonderful.
Yichen’s fingers flew across the controller. Eager to get back to his game, he gave a distracted reply. “Got it. I’ll tell them.”
The line went dead almost instantly. He hung up fast, she thought.
Shen Zhilin returned quickly with two bags—one with groceries and another with a medicine box. She swapped into her slippers and headed straight for the kitchen. “Lie down for a bit. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”
Sheng Mian scrambled up. She already felt bad enough for freeloading a meal and a bed; she couldn’t just let Zhilin do all the cooking too. “I’ll help you!”
As she stood, her vision went black for a second. She sat back down to steady herself before trying again. When she reached the kitchen, she saw Zhilin with her sleeves rolled up, revealing strong, lean forearms as she prepped the vegetables.
Seemingly displeased by Sheng Mian’s refusal to rest, Zhilin’s voice carried a tone of quiet authority. “Go back and lie down. There isn’t enough room for me to move with you in here.”
The kitchen was indeed small; two people had to turn sideways just to pass each other. Sheng Mian obediently returned to the bed. The sounds of washing, the rhythmic thud-thud of the knife, and the sizzle of the stir-fry filled the air.
Zhilin was efficient; dinner was ready in forty minutes.
Sheng Mian hadn’t felt hungry, but at the sight of sweet and sour ribs, oyster sauce lettuce, and tomato soup, her stomach growled uncontrollably.
Zhilin gave a soft chuckle. “Hungry, aren’t you?” She placed a bowl of rice in front of Sheng Mian.
Sheng Mian took a bite of the ribs, her eyes lighting up with genuine praise. “This is delicious! Zhilin, you’re such a good cook!”
“I’ve been practicing since I was a kid.”
Sheng Mian suddenly realized that Zhilin lived in this tiny apartment all by herself. Where were her parents? She had grown used to the “rental” feel of the place, but she had forgotten that Zhilin was still a high school student, not a working adult like she had been in her previous life.
She chewed on her chopstick, her tone careful. “Do you live alone?”
Zhilin was frank. “My parents passed away many years ago. I’ve lived alone ever since.”
Touching upon such a personal secret made Sheng Mian feel a bit lost. “Actually, I.” She swallowed her words. She was no longer the orphan Sheng Mian of her past. “You’ve done so well for yourself,” she pivoted. “You’re much better than me. I’m hopeless at cooking; I can only manage stir-fried pork with peppers and shredded potatoes.”
“That just means you’ll find a partner who’s a great cook. You won’t have to worry about food for the rest of your life.”
The atmosphere lightened, and Sheng Mian insisted on doing the dishes. When she finished, she found Zhilin crouching on the floor, setting up a makeshift bed. “What are you doing?”
Zhilin had tied her hair back, looking sharp and tidy. “I thought about it. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Since Zhilin lived alone, she didn’t have much spare bedding. She had laid out a thin mattress that looked like it was for summer, a single pillow, and a small blanket to serve as a duvet.
Sheng Mian felt it was unnecessary and uncomfortable. “We can just share the bed.”
“I’m an Alpha,” Zhilin said stubbornly. “Sharing a bed wouldn’t be good for you.”
Sheng Mian walked over and grabbed the hand Zhilin was using to smooth the blanket. “Then I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“No way!”
“If you can sleep on the floor, so can I. This is your home, and I’m the one imposing. It’s only right that I take the floor.”
Zhilin simply shook her head.
“Either we both sleep on the bed, or I sleep on the floor and you take the bed,” Sheng Mian said firmly. It was an obvious ultimatum.
Zhilin compromised. She tucked the floor bedding back into the cupboard.
“Zhilin, do you have any spare pajamas?” Sheng Mian asked. She couldn’t sleep in her street clothes.
Zhilin rummaged through her wardrobe and handed her a laundered set. “They’re not new, but they’re clean.”
Sheng Mian took them and headed to the bathroom. “It’s fine, as long as I have something to wear.”
When she emerged in the black pajamas, the sleeves were so long they covered her hands entirely, and the pant legs bunched up at her ankles. She looked a bit ridiculous. “Your clothes are huge!”
Zhilin moved aside. “You take the side by the wall.”
Sheng Mian crawled onto the bed, kicking her slippers off. She shuffled forward on her knees like a puppy burrowing into a blanket. The collar of the pajamas was too wide for her, slipping down to reveal her pale collarbones and a glimpse of her shoulder.
Sheng Mian was light and petite; as she lay down, Shen Zhilin could barely feel a dip in the mattress beside her. Seeing the girl curled up in her own oversized pajamas, Zhilin’s heart beat with an uncontrollable intensity.
Sheng Mian suddenly remembered she hadn’t taken her cold medicine. She started to ask Zhilin to pass it to her, but she noticed the other girl staring intently at her phone. Her screen didn’t move for a long time—perhaps she was reading a particularly long post? Seeing that she felt a bit better now that she was lying down, Sheng Mian decided the medicine could wait until morning. She didn’t want to bother her.
Before long, the room plunged into darkness as Zhilin switched off the light and lay down flat. Sheng Mian’s consciousness began to drift, her breathing settling into a steady, rhythmic hum.
In the dark, Shen Zhilin’s eyes suddenly snapped open. The room was once again flooded with the scent of vanilla ice cream. Cold moonlight filtered through the window like a silken veil draped over them; Sheng Mian was clearly restless, tossed about by the rising tide of her heat. She felt as if she were trapped in a giant steamer, waves of feverish heat rolling over her in a harrowing state of half-sleep.
Zhilin tried releasing a small amount of pheromones to soothe her. She switched on a small desk lamp, got out of bed to pour a glass of warm water, and placed the medicine on the nightstand. When she reached out to lightly pat Sheng Mian’s arm, the girl instinctively chased the scent, her hands fumbling in the dark until she found Zhilin’s hand.
She caught it.
Sheng Mian pressed Zhilin’s hand against her cheek; it was cool and incredibly soothing. She nuzzled against her palm, breathing in her scent, sinking deeper into the sensation. It felt like a wintry breeze blowing away her suffering. But the effect was fleeting—the heat waves returned with a vengeance, and the “breeze” was simply too small.
“Sheng Mian, wake up.” Zhilin shook her a little harder.
Sheng Mian woke up in a haze, letting out a confused, piteous whimper. She curled into a ball, clutching the duvet tightly and mumbling, “It hurts. I’m so hot.”
“Sit up and take the medicine, you’ll feel better.” Zhilin sat beside her, intending to help her prop herself up against the headboard, but Sheng Mian had other ideas.
She leaned directly into Zhilin’s embrace, resting her head on her shoulder while still deathly afraid of letting go of the duvet. She pressed a corner of the fabric against her nose.
Zhilin took a pill with one hand and pressed it toward Sheng Mian’s lips, inevitably brushing against those soft, hot lips and a trace of moisture. She lightly rubbed her fingertips, the sensation lingering even as she gave Sheng Mian a sip of water. Supporting the back of her head to tilt it back, she watched as Sheng Mian obediently swallowed the pill.
A stray drop of water escaped the corner of Sheng Mian’s mouth; Zhilin wiped it away with the back of her hand before helping her lie back down.
The suppressant Zhilin had injected that afternoon seemed to be losing its edge. The pheromones in her own body were screaming for release. She injected herself with a second dose before lying back down.
The moment she settled, Sheng Mian pressed against her again. Her own meager blanket had been tossed aside as useless. She clung to Zhilin, and as if that wasn’t close enough, she hooked a leg between Zhilin’s, moving restlessly. When she grazed a “danger zone,” Zhilin shifted uncomfortably.
This early heat was fierce and urgent. Sheng Mian, inexperienced and unprepared, could only follow her instincts, drawing closer to the cool, fragrant body beside her. As the medicine began to take effect, her mind cleared slightly, but her body remained in turmoil. Her brain kept replaying the scenes from the afternoon; it had felt so good then, and she wanted it again.
“Shen Zhilin, I still feel terrible.” Sheng Mian propped herself up, looking at Zhilin with piteous eyes. “Can we kiss again?”
Zhilin looked down at her. Sheng Mian couldn’t wait; ignoring the lack of an answer, she leaned in with a kiss that was both urgent and tender. Seeing no resistance, she deepened the kiss.
Zhilin began to respond. In this hidden, private corner of the world, they held and kissed each other. Sheng Mian pulled back just enough to gasp, “The scent isn’t strong enough!”
Zhilin gave a helpless smile and released more pheromones. “I love it,” Sheng Mian whispered contentedly before kissing her again.
Her mouth wasn’t the only thing restless; her hands kept trying to slip under Zhilin’s pajama top. After her stomach and waist had been “attacked” several times, Zhilin finally caught her wandering hands and pinned them down. Her breathing grew heavy as she nipped Sheng Mian’s lower lip in mock punishment, then immediately licked the spot.
After a long while, Zhilin was the first to pull away. When Sheng Mian tried to lean back in, Zhilin pushed her back gently and tucked her in. “Go to sleep.”
The medicine had finally suppressed the worst of the heat. Exhausted by the ordeal, Sheng Mian quickly fell into a deep sleep. Zhilin waited until she was sure the girl was stable before getting up and heading to the bathroom.
At 3:00 AM, Sheng Yichen finally finished his gaming session. As he put down his controller, a thought struck him. Sheng Mian was staying with a friend—as far as he knew, that meant either Yi Chi, Shen Zhilin, or Qin Heng.
Yi Chi was an Omega, while the other two were Alphas.
Yichen naturally assumed his sister was staying with Yi Chi. But why did he have this nagging, uneasy feeling that something wasn’t quite right?