So much had happened today that Xi Xiuran was genuinely exhausted. Forcing himself to stay awake, he managed to review the gift ledger for less than ten minutes before drifting off into a groggy sleep. In his daze, he thought he heard Butler Wang sigh, as if wanting to say something to him, but for a desperately sleepy salted fish, everything could wait until he woke up.
And so, Xi Xiuran rolled over, hugged his blanket, and went back to sleep.
Xi Xiuran had originally thought he would sleep soundly until dawn, but to his surprise, he was woken up by the cold in the middle of the night. Yes, woken up by the cold. It felt as though someone was blasting an air conditioner directly at his head, forcefully freezing him awake. Xi Xiuran painfully opened his eyes, only to see that a torrential downpour had started outside at some point. The window was wide open, and the biting cold wind of March, mixed with rain, was howling into the room. And standing right in front of his bed was a person—it nearly scared him enough to make him jump straight out of bed.
Shi Xingzhou had come over at some unknown point in time. Wearing a black silk nightgown, with freezing rainwater still clinging to the ends of his hair, he looked like a malevolent spirit crawling out of purgatory. His tall figure stood before the bed, almost entirely blocking the floor-to-ceiling window. The occasional flash of lightning from behind him cast his figure in an ambiguous, eerie light. His orange-red eyes seemed to have turned blood-red as they stared fixedly at Xi Xiuran on the bed.
Xi Xiuran: “…?”
Good heavens, I almost thought it was a vengeful ghost coming to claim my life. Scaring someone to death in the middle of the night!
Xi Xiuran held his breath as he looked at Shi Xingzhou, feeling that the man’s entire body exuded an icy aura—even colder than the wind blowing in from outside.
Hesitating for a moment, Xi Xiuran stealthily reached out and touched the back of Shi Xingzhou’s hand. Hiss, it was colder than ice. He retracted his hand with a shiver, guessing that the big boss must have walked over through the rain.
Xi Xiuran then glanced at the storm outside, the lightning flashing and thunder roaring.
Oh, I get it.
The big boss sugar daddy is actually afraid of thunderstorms, just like my little nephew.
It was quite unexpected, but hey, who didn’t have a hidden weakness these days? Just like how he wasn’t even afraid of snakes, but was terrified of spiders—his legs would go soft and he wouldn’t be able to walk if he saw one.
For the sake of his sugar daddy, Xi Xiuran could endure the pain and share half of his blanket. As he sluggishly scooted toward the inner side of the bed, giving up more than half of the warm blanket, he mumbled a reminder: “There’s a towel on the nightstand. Remember to dry your hair before getting into bed.”
Having said that, Xi Xiuran closed his eyes and prepared to go back to sleep. He was simply too exhausted.
Just as Xi Xiuran was groggily about to fall asleep again, the ghost-like Shi Xingzhou suddenly spoke: “You’re just going to sleep like this?”
Xi Xiuran jolted awake. He carefully examined Shi Xingzhou’s pale face again, blinked, and this time he truly understood.
F**k, the Boss’s Mental Power is rioting again, and his head is starting to hurt!
No wonder he has a dead man’s face, looking scarier than a vengeful ghost.
But he wasn’t a doctor, nor was he an S-rank high-level Omega.
After thinking for a moment, Xi Xiuran hesitantly rolled over, swept up his hair to expose his snow-white nape, and said uncertainly, “Even though I don’t know if it’ll help, I’ll still let you take a bite…”
In the middle of the night, Xi Xiuran was truly exhausted, and his mind wasn’t very clear. Of course, even if he were clear-headed, he wouldn’t fully understand what a “temporary mark” meant in this world. As a half-bent-but-not-quite-straight gaming otaku, his understanding of ABO dynamics was entirely superficial; this novel was the very first ABO story he had ever read. With his shallow knowledge, a temporary mark was pretty much the same as a vampire biting someone’s neck to suck blood—it was no big deal. He just treated it like going to the hospital to donate blood out of love.
The youth’s exposed nape was slender and fair.
In the dim night, its whiteness was almost blinding.
Shi Xingzhou didn’t speak, nor did he move. He lowered his eyes, watching the youth on the bed who was still mumbling, “Um, remember to bite lightly. I’m a bit afraid of pain… And if it hurts too much, I won’t be able to sleep. Staying up late is bad; it’s easy to die from sudden cardiac arrest…”
Because there was no response from him for a long while, the youth’s voice grew quieter and quieter, until finally, he looked as though he was about to fall asleep again.
Seeing that Xi Xiuran was about to drift off, Shi Xingzhou finally lifted his eyelids. Blood-red color nearly dyed his entire eyes, the agony within them self-evident. He stared at Xi Xiuran’s neck and said expressionlessly: “…Alright.”
“Then be gentle…” Finally receiving Shi Xingzhou’s reply, Xi Xiuran forced his heavy eyelids open, lifted the blanket, and sluggishly crawled toward Shi Xingzhou, completely unaware that the man’s gaze on his neck was filled with terrifying hostility and coldness.
Without warning, Shi Xingzhou raised his hand, his fingertips brushing against Xi Xiuran’s neck.
Shi Xingzhou’s hand was simply too freezing. Xi Xiuran flinched, his mind finally clearing up a bit. He looked at him blankly, “What’s wrong?”
Shi Xingzhou turned a deaf ear. His five fingers slightly curled inward; as long as he applied a little force, he could…
A towel suddenly landed on his head, followed immediately by the scent of the youth’s pheromones.
It was the sweet, crisp fragrance of apple blossoms.
Shi Xingzhou’s movements paused.
His turbulent Mental Sea seemed to be smoothed over by something, and the headache and irritability caused by his Mental Riot inexplicably subsided. Sniffing this scent, Shi Xingzhou recalled a summer afternoon when his mother had peeled a small green apple for him. Crisp and sweet, it was his favorite flavor from childhood.
“How’s the pressure? I’ve never dried anyone’s hair before, so you’ll have to make do.” Xi Xiuran aggressively rubbed Shi Xingzhou’s wet hair with the towel. He secretly suppressed a yawn, feeling that there was no one in the world better at pleasing a sugar daddy than him—still grinding at work in the middle of the night.
Suddenly, as if remembering something, he hastily explained, “The towel is clean, don’t worry. I just draped it around my neck for a bit before bed because I was worried my hair wasn’t dry and would wet my collar. I really haven’t used it.”
Shi Xingzhou gave an “Mm,” retracting the hand resting on the youth’s neck, unconsciously rubbing his fingers together.
The youth’s touch was very light. It really was just as he said—he had never dried anyone else’s hair. His movements were quite clumsy, but his redeeming quality was his carefulness; the towel never swatted him in the face. Shi Xingzhou closed his eyes again, silently breathing in the sweet scent of the towel and the youth. The hostility and manic rage surrounding him gradually dissipated into nothingness.
Before coming here, his Mental Sea had rioted again, but the pheromones his mother left behind were running low; he couldn’t use them recklessly. He was so irritable and in so much agony that he wanted to kill someone. But he had already killed everyone he could in the Admiral’s manor, leaving only Xi Xiuran, who had just arrived today with unknown motives. So, he had come over.
But standing by the bed, looking at the soundly sleeping Xi Xiuran, for some unknown reason, his surging murderous intent inexplicably dissipated a little. He remembered the youth’s ridiculous “end-of-life care” speeches and all his various roasts and mumblings.
He’s a bit noisy, but not to the point of killing.
Then, he recalled the way the youth had looked at him. In those clear, bright green eyes, there was no fear, no panic, and certainly no unease. The youth had even foolishly been deceived by his appearance, genuinely praising him as gentle and calling him a good person.
And so, he repeated his old trick, frightening the person awake from their dreams, expecting the youth to scream and run away in terror like everyone else. But the youth’s reaction once again exceeded his expectations. Not only did he not run, he even offered up half his blanket and generously exposed his pheromone gland for him to bite.
Too interesting. It seems a bit of a pity to kill him.
I’ll keep him around and see for now.
Thinking up to this point, Shi Xingzhou picked up his elegant, noble persona once more and apologized, “Sorry for waking you.”
“It’s fine. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”
Xi Xiuran felt deeply sympathetic toward Shi Xingzhou. After all, anyone suffering excruciating pain in their Mental Sea day and night was bound to lose their composure. Just as it said in the end-of-life care manual: because they are tormented by illness, the patient is fragile and sensitive both physically and mentally. Sometimes they can’t control their behavior, and relatives must be understanding and compassionate—absolutely do not get angry.
Shi Xingzhou: “…”
3:10 AM.
As Xi Xiuran dried Shi Xingzhou’s hair, he stealthily checked the time and couldn’t hold back a yawn.
His life was truly too hard. Still working overtime at this hour—he hadn’t even worked this hard when he was a corporate slave! But thankfully, he only had to endure these grueling days for one month.
Thinking of this, Xi Xiuran took advantage of the towel’s cover to give Shi Xingzhou a highly complicated look, sighing endlessly in his heart.
Sigh, such a good-looking man… it’s just a pity he only has 29 days left to live.
Xi Xiuran tried his best to make his movements gentler, but he couldn’t fight off his drowsiness for even two minutes.
He was truly exhausted.
Being able to fall asleep easily and sleep deeply at his age really wasn’t his fault.
Xi Xiuran tried hard to widen his eyes to wake himself up, but found it useless; he was still sleepy.
But the boss seems to be enjoying it. If I suddenly go on strike, the boss will probably be unhappy, right?
Xi Xiuran thought about it and decided to slack off.
He quietly slowed down the movements of his hands and started moving his mouth instead, hoping to run down the clock with small talk. “Admiral Shi, do you always wake up in pain in the middle of the night like this?”
Due to the restricted angle and the towel blocking his view, Shi Xingzhou couldn’t see Xi Xiuran’s face; he could only see a section of his neck. The youth’s skin was fair and tender—he had only lightly touched it earlier, yet it had already left a faint fingerprint.
It was incredibly eye-catching.
Shi Xingzhou retracted his gaze and slowly opened his mouth: “Mm.”
Xi Xiuran’s hair-drying movements grew slower and slower. He asked again, “Doesn’t that mean you can never get a good night’s sleep?”
“…Mm.”
Xi Xiuran put himself in the man’s shoes for a second. If he had a headache that kept him awake every single night, he figured he wouldn’t even last three days before wanting to exact revenge on society. Shi Xingzhou truly lived up to being the absolute ceiling of the original novel in every aspect. Not only had he endured this for five years, but he had also continuously fought on the front lines against the Zerg in the frontier galaxies. It was only in the last six months, because his comatose periods were growing longer, that he was forced to leave the front lines and return to the Capital Star to recuperate.
Admiration was admiration, but Xi Xiuran didn’t dare blindly sigh over this topic; it was too easy to trigger a patient’s sensitive nerves.
Xi Xiuran finally found an opportunity to put down the towel. He said softly, “Feels like it’s mostly dry. Do you want to feel it, Your Excellency?”
Saying so, he even boldly grabbed Shi Xingzhou’s hand, bringing it up to his head to let him feel it himself. His tone carried a hint of wanting credit. “See? Isn’t it all dry?”
A hand accustomed to operating mechas and gripping various precision firearms possessed an extremely sharp sense of touch. Shi Xingzhou only needed a light tap of his fingertips to feel the slight dampness still lingering in his hair.
With the towel no longer blocking his view, he looked into the youth’s clear, bright green eyes. He paused, then said flatly, “Mm, it’s dry.”
Xi Xiuran gave a little “heh” and asked again, “My handiwork isn’t bad, right?”
Shi Xingzhou: “…It’s alright.”
Xi Xiuran was completely satisfied.
He knew all too well that if someone like Shi Xingzhou could say “It’s alright,” that proved his handiwork was genuinely pretty good.
This made him swell with pride, and he secretly put his hands on his hips in his mind.
Since the boss has expressed approval for my hard overtime work, naturally, it’s time to take the opportunity to slip away.
Xi Xiuran swiftly laid back down on the bed, wrapped himself in the blanket, and didn’t forget to leave a spot for Shi Xingzhou. He greeted enthusiastically, “Since your hair is dry, let’s hurry up and sleep.”
Shi Xingzhou: “…”
It was one thing when he was half-asleep earlier, but now that he was fully awake, he actually dared to invite him to sleep together. This guy’s guts were truly extraordinarily big.
The moment his head hit the pillow, Xi Xiuran couldn’t control his yawning, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier. “Aren’t we supposed to attend a banquet at the royal palace tomorrow morning? Let’s sleep.”
“Do you know tomorrow is a family banquet? Once we go, our relationship will be considered public.” Shi Xingzhou smoothly leaned back against the headboard, saying nonchalantly, “The Shi family and the royal family are in-laws… You are only a B-rank; you definitely won’t be able to remarry in the future.”
Although the Soroa Empire heavily emphasized reproduction and did not allow the existence of “adult single Omegas,” royal relatives possessed privileges no matter the era. For example, in the Soroa Empire, Omegas who married into the royal family needed to be at least A-rank or higher to have the right to apply for remarriage through the Matching Center after losing their partner. Omegas below A-rank could only obediently remain widows.
In the original novel, although the Protagonist Shou was only an A+ rank, there were only five or six S-rank Omegas ranked higher than him, and none of them were as good-looking as he was. Therefore, in his past life, he was incredibly haughty and looked down on Ying Huachi, wholeheartedly only wanting to marry the far superior Shi Xingzhou.
And in the past life’s plotline, the Protagonist Shou’s pheromone gland was accidentally injured by a berserk Shi Xingzhou. Even though he lost his reproductive ability and couldn’t remarry, after Shi Xingzhou’s death, he became the master of the entire Admiral’s manor. He lived a free and unconstrained life every day, squandering billions in inheritance to his heart’s content. On the outside, relying on his status as the Emperor’s cousin-in-law, coupled with the Emperor’s secret care, the Protagonist Shou never suffered any grievances. It could be said that not even Eldest Princess Theresa lived as carefree a life as he did.
However, the Protagonist Shou wasn’t satisfied with this kind of life. He felt he had lost the noble status and privileges of a high-level Omega. He spent his days depressed and unhappy, eventually dying of a broken heart. When he opened his eyes again, he had been reborn.
When Xi Xiuran read this part, he thought it was outrageously absurd.
What is so bad about being a salted fish? Do you not know that in the modern world, cutthroat involution has reached all the way down to kindergartens? Do you know how many people dream of being a salted fish?! The Protagonist Shou wasn’t happy with it, and the Original Owner couldn’t wrap his head around it, but Xi Xiuran was incomparably willing.
Even though he was so tired right now that his eyes couldn’t even open, he still replied with an incredibly sincere tone: “I know. Rest assured, Your Excellency, even if I were an SSS-rank, I wouldn’t remarry. Being able to marry you is the greatest blessing of my life…”
Remarry? What remarriage? The beautiful life of a young, charming, wealthy widow is waiting for me! He was going to shamelessly camp out in the Admiral’s manor for the rest of his life and never leave. There was food and drink here, every aspect satisfied his fantasies, and he only had to work for 30 days! What was there to be dissatisfied about?
A blessing?
Shi Xingzhou cast a glance at Xi Xiuran, then lifted his eyes to the lightning and thunder outside the window. Suddenly, he said, “While our relationship hasn’t been made public yet, I can apply for a divorce. I will let you leave. How about that?”
Xi Xiuran didn’t speak.
The room instantly fell quiet, leaving only the sound of the pouring rain outside the window.
Shi Xingzhou scoffed silently. Leave?
Having offended Theresa and the Emperor, without his protection, the boy likely wouldn’t even be able to make it off the Capital Star.
His orange-red eyes deep as blood, Shi Xingzhou turned his head, only to see that Xi Xiuran was already hugging the blanket, sleeping incredibly soundly and sweetly.
Xi Xiuran: “Zzz…”
Shi Xingzhou: “…”
T/n: You can support the original author here. Happy Reading 💅