Qi Fan’s kiss was deeper and more urgent than expected. Sheng Zhiyu instinctively pushed at his shoulders, only to hear a faint chuckle spill from the depths of the man’s throat.
It was slow, low, and magnetic. The warm breath, carrying the scent of ebony and agarwood, drifted against his skin, sending shivers through his nerves.
In truth, Sheng Zhiyu had no experience kissing anyone other than Qi Fan.
Before his death, though he wasn’t famous, he had been a minor actor focused entirely on his career; his company had strictly forbidden dating. After being recruited by the Transmigration Bureau, he had even less mental energy for such things, focusing solely on his performance metrics.
His few instances of intimate contact were all with Qi Fan.
The first time had been blurry due to alcohol, and the second time knowing the man was taking the fall for him was more of a passive cooperation.
It wasn’t until now that he realized a simple fact: this man was a very good kisser.
Usually, a “White Moonlight” character would deliberately avoid contact with the protagonist to maintain a sense of purity, while a “Scum Gong”…
“Sss…”
A soft intake of breath came from in front of him. Sheng Zhiyu snapped back to reality to find Qi Fan had pulled back half a palm’s distance.
Sheng Zhiyu lifted his misty, hazy gaze and saw a flash of crimson on the tip of Qi Fan’s tongue.
He was bleeding.
Qi Fan pursed his lips. His eyes, filled with a smile like a clear pool, watched him from up close.
“So, it wasn’t my imagination. You really seem unhappy tonight.”
There was no emotional ripple in Sheng Zhiyu’s glass-like eyes. He gave him a lazy, dismissive look. “Oh?”
Qi Fan’s long, slightly cool fingers brushed the side of his neck. While gauging the Alpha’s level of acceptance toward his own kind, he whispered: “Is it because I kissed you, or because of someone else?”
After a long silence, Sheng Zhiyu let out a low, faint laugh, his pitch-black pupils staring at him unblinkingly. “I didn’t realize an Alpha’s physical discomfort could be misinterpreted like that.”
Qi Fan’s eyes cooled by two degrees. His thumb lightly flicked Sheng Zhiyu’s earlobe. Seeing the obvious flinch, he leaned back in for another kiss.
“Who knows.”
When the second lingering kiss ended, Sheng Zhiyu pulled away, breathing slightly hard. His clear eyes watched the man lazily. “Is so much kissing really necessary just to soothe a rut?”
Qi Fan looked down at his moist, glistening lips. Beneath a calm exterior, his emotions were a stormy sea.
“If I don’t kiss you first, should I just bite you directly?” His voice was excessively husky and incredibly sexy. “You can be that rough with an Omega, but not with an Alpha.”
Sheng Zhiyu’s eyes had grown foggy and somewhat vacant due to the situation.
Qi Fan’s cool fingertips touched his face again, explaining slowly: “You wouldn’t be able to handle it. We have to take it one step at a time.”
The mutual repulsion between their kinds grew more intense as the concentration of their pheromones rose, finally reaching a breaking point when Qi Fan bit down on his Adam’s apple.
Qi Fan heard him let out a very soft moan.
After the cat-like trill ended, Sheng Zhiyu ducked away from the kiss. Like a counterattack, he pinned Qi Fan’s shoulders down.
The wound on the side of his neck that had just been bitten open was crushed again by sharp teeth before it could heal.
The original owner clearly had plenty of experience giving temporary marks to Omegas, but all of that was useless against Qi Fan.
The mild, gentle ebony scent now felt like a thicket of thorns. Too dense for Sheng Zhiyu to pinpoint the exact location of the gland. He could only rely on his biting instinct to wreak havoc.
…Actually, he couldn’t quite suppress it.
The destructive factors in his Alpha genes were instructing him to pay back every bit of the suppression he had just endured.
By the time Sheng Zhiyu came to his senses again, a large patch of deep red blood had been smeared across Qi Fan’s neck.
Sheng Zhiyu’s vision slowly focused. Looking up, he met Qi Fan’s deep eyes. He seemed to have been watching for a long time, quietly waiting for him to fall into the trap.
That look was far from innocent. The tiny bit of guilt Sheng Zhiyu felt vanished instantly. He even licked the blood from his own lips, narrowing his eyes. “What are you looking at? Want to cry in pain?”
“No.”
A short, simple answer.
Just as Sheng Zhiyu was about to reply, he felt a light scratch on the skin from his back down to his tailbone.
Qi Fan’s voice was deep and hoarse: “I was just thinking you’re biting so vigorously now. I wonder if… you’ll be the one crying in pain in a moment.”
Sheng Zhiyu seemed to realize the meaning. His beautiful eyes blinked twice.
“…Are you going to bite me back?”
The tone sounded cute, yet it was just as heartless as his “bedmate” comment.
Qi Fan laughed low. His cool fingertips slowly climbed up Sheng Zhiyu’s spine, stopping meaningfully at the back of his neck. “Otherwise, did you think I was like those Omegas you had before—the ones you beckon when needed and toss aside once you’re done biting?”
This was clearly something the original owner had done, and Sheng Zhiyu didn’t understand why he was being blamed for it. An electric current seemed to surge through his spine at the touch, making him feel as though tiny fireworks were exploding in his mind.
“A pity we have a mission to do and have to stay by An Yu’s side,” Qi Fan said, pressing the skin at the back of his neck like he was scruffing a kitten. “You won’t be able to go looking for other Omegas, either.”
He said it as if he could go looking for any Omega other than the protagonist.
Sheng Zhiyu didn’t bother arguing. He spoke in a lazy, dismissive tone: “If you’re going to bite, hurry up. Stop dawdling.”
Since Qi Fan didn’t seem to have a big reaction, maybe being bitten once wouldn’t be that bad?
That was what Sheng Zhiyu thought, until the man’s hot, damp palm covered his gland. A stinging numbness instantly pierced through to his bones.
In the suppression between Alphas, besides pheromone levels, age is a very important factor. Even if Sheng Zhiyu and Qi Fan were equals in bloodline, the gap in time was enough to make him bow his head.
This position wouldn’t be comfortable even for an Omega. Sheng Zhiyu frowned. “…Qi Fan!”
“Shh.” The man’s voice was right against his ear, dangerous yet fatally sexy. “There are no cameras on this floor, but the soundproofing is average. If someone comes to deliver a letter to you later, they’ll hear.”
His reason was both wicked and sufficient. As Sheng Zhiyu struggled to keep his voice down, a sharp pain hit his shoulder.
Sharp teeth broke through the skin. Foreign pheromones were injected into his bloodstream. His vision blurred for a split second, followed by an overwhelming wave of rejection.
…Even though Qi Fan hadn’t bitten the back of his neck, just the shoulder was enough to make a layer of cold sweat break out on his back.
It was much harder to bear than he had imagined.
Qi Fan lowered his gaze, taking in every bit of Sheng Zhiyu’s resistance.
Alphas are not born to be marked. When Sheng Zhiyu was biting him just now, the sadistic urge hidden in his bones almost consumed his sanity. Every nerve was forcing him to stop this offending peer.
His outward indifference was only because he had enough self-control and endurance.
But the pampered young master had almost zero experience with endurance. Just a bite on the shoulder was enough to make him fall apart.
He couldn’t endure it, yet he bit so fiercely.
Qi Fan suddenly chuckled and slowly released his grip.
A neat, beautiful string of tooth marks was left on Sheng Zhiyu’s pale, slender neck. The four puncture marks from the canines looked like red flower buds—much gentler compared to the mess on Qi Fan’s neck.
The invasion of pheromones subsided. Sheng Zhiyu managed to come back from his trance. When his vision focused, he saw Qi Fan’s deep, handsome features.
The man acted as if he hadn’t noticed Sheng Zhiyu was awake. His thin, pale lips brushed over the soft skin near Sheng Zhiyu’s neck. His breathing was heavy, and his gaze was dark—a picture of overflowing desire held back by extreme restraint.
Finally, as if conceding, he gave a soft sigh and longingly licked the fresh blood from the wound with the tip of his tongue.
Sheng Zhiyu lay flat on the bed, the corners of his eyes and cheeks a vivid red.
Perhaps the suppressants were working; the agitation from the rut had been diluted by the collision of Alpha pheromones. His entire body felt only the lingering numbness of an electric shock.
Qi Fan stroked his waist, waiting for all his reactions to fade before picking him up from the bed.
After the bathtub was filled with warm water, Qi Fan turned back to look at Sheng Zhiyu, who was sitting on the sink, staring blankly at nothing.
He laughed softly. “Why are you being so well-behaved?”
Sheng Zhiyu’s brow furrowed again. “Didn’t you put me here?”
He was barefoot; did the man expect him to step onto the wet bathroom floor like this?
“Right, my fault.” Qi Fan’s hand rested lightly on the edge of the sink, unobtrusively boxing Sheng Zhiyu in. “Escorting the princess is my duty. I shouldn’t have asked.”
Sheng Zhiyu’s fingertips brushed the surface of the water, creating ripple after ripple. He gave him a cold glare. “…Shut up.”
The water temperature was just right. After Qi Fan put him in, he turned and walked out of the bathroom.
Before Sheng Zhiyu could wonder what he was doing, he returned carrying a medical kit.
Unlike the one An Yu had borrowed in the morning, Qi Fan’s kit was filled mostly with specialized medicine for Alphas in rut.
He soaked a piece of sterile gauze and knelt to gently clean Sheng Zhiyu’s wound.
Sheng Zhiyu saw the mottled red on the side of his neck out of the corner of his eye. He looked down at the man’s water-soaked sleeves and pant legs, and his lips thinned. “Are you going to go out like that later?”
Qi Fan’s fingers paused. He asked back with a hint of a smile, “Do you want me to stay?”
Sheng Zhiyu: “No way.”
That was a truly unhesitating answer.
“Fine. If I run into anyone on the way out, I’ll just say I encountered a water ghost.”
Qi Fan pulled out two skin-toned waterproof bandages to cover the four small bite marks. “I’ll say the water ghost was extremely fierce and wanted my life.”
Sheng Zhiyu gave a half-smile. “Go ahead and say it. Let’s see if your persona breaks and if the system punishes you.”
As he spoke, he touched his wound. He didn’t know what medicine Qi Fan had used, but the wound felt cool and the pain was completely gone.
He glanced at the man by the tub again. “…You can leave now.”
Qi Fan unhurriedly packed the items back into the kit, looking quite disappointed. “I thought you might return the favor and help me out too.”
After all, it wasn’t like they hadn’t helped each other before.
Qi Fan thought Sheng Zhiyu’s answer would be as blunt and merciless as before. To his surprise, the young master soaking in the tub bit his lip and moved back toward the edge of the bath.
The half-wet bathrobe had been left outside the door by Qi Fan when they entered. Sheng Zhiyu was currently wearing only the soaked white T-shirt and jeans.
The wet fabric wasn’t transparent, but it clung to his body, faintly tracing his silhouette.
…A nearly mature Alpha.
Qi Fan’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly.
Then, he saw Sheng Zhiyu raise his hand and beckon him with a slender, pale finger.
Sheng Zhiyu’s beautiful fox-eyes were wide and round. The steam from the tub rose up, making his refined features look dark and intense.
With a face like that, even though he knew the boy was playing tricks, Qi Fan still followed his lead and leaned down.
Sheng Zhiyu didn’t know his intentions were seen through. Feeling his trick had succeeded, he gave the man’s black hair a good ruffle.
Because of the show, Qi Fan’s styling was meticulously prepared by a team; every strand of hair was designed to emphasize his maturity and handsomeness.
Now that it was a mess, he lost the air of a cold, noble movie star and regained a familiar flavor.
Then, their eyes met. Sheng Zhiyu twirled a lock of the man’s hair around his finger and asked slowly: “Qi Fan, are you angry because I made you my bedmate?”
Qi Fan’s expression was cool, his emotions held back. “Wasn’t that just your way of intentionally annoying me because you hate me?”
So he knew.
Once Qi Fan’s hair was messy and loose, Sheng Zhiyu let go and waved him away dismissively. “Alright, go back.”
Like a person who found a cute dog, ruffled it on a whim, and then shooed it away once satisfied.
Qi Fan looked down and let out a soft laugh.
Even though he had experienced the boy’s ability to turn a cold shoulder after getting what he wanted, he still couldn’t help his emotions… a heartless opponent.
As he came out of Sheng Zhiyu’s room, Qi Fan glanced at the envelopes at the door.
A quick glance wasn’t precise, but there were at least two letters inside. He didn’t know when they had been placed there.
The hallway lights were a pale orange, casting a dark shadow in the man’s eyes.
Qi Fan walked back to his room expressionlessly. A split second before he closed the door, another figure stepped into the hallway.
The tall man walked with a clear purpose, holding a light blue envelope. He stopped at Sheng Zhiyu’s door.
He raised his hand, then seemed to realize the gesture was a bit intrusive. He balled his hand into a fist and coughed lightly into it before finally placing the letter in the mailbox.
Qi Fan caught a glimpse of the man’s profile, and his gaze darkened by another three degrees.
________________________________________
The next day during filming, the official lineup for Matching Love trended.
The one that earned a “Burst” tag was naturally Qi Fan’s status as a guest. Passersby were shocked that someone of his caliber would deign to join a civilian dating show, while fans were relieved that their idol had finally “descended to the mortal realm.”
Qi Fan hadn’t joined any variety shows since his debut. To see him, fans usually had to wait for movies, promotions, or leaked photos. The sense of distance was almost like a wall, keeping fans in a state of constant craving.
While other fandoms would nag their idols to work hard and let their projects do the talking, the comments under Qi Fan’s studio were all fans begging him to show his face on any show at all.
[Good news, Mr. Qi accepted a show! Bad news, it’s a dating show.]
[Mr. Qi isn’t an idol. He’s an Alpha and he’s 27. Let him be.]
[LMAO, are people actually worried about Mr. Qi dating? This is clearly a case of ‘they offered too much.’ Mr. Qi is famously picky.]
[Hahaha exactly. Mr. Qi is considered an ‘unreachable wall’ among Alphas by many Omegas in the industry. You think he’ll find someone he likes just by joining a show?]
Throughout the morning, any keyword related to Qi Fan stayed at the top of the charts.
Sheng Zhiyu glanced at it when he woke up but didn’t care much.
If the official announcement didn’t cause a stir, it wouldn’t be worthy of the “crematorium” of jealousy that was coming later.
【Whether it’s worthy of the crematorium is hard to say, but you definitely owe me.】
Lin Weiyu’s resentful voice slowly rang in his ear.
Although Sheng Zhiyu had blocked him before, those were usually short periods. It wasn’t like yesterday, where he had been disconnected for almost a day and a night.
While Lin Weiyu could check Sheng Zhiyu’s status and mission progress through the system terminal, the most important thing was… he had no one to chat with! He had to sit awkwardly at his workstation alone! It was agony!
Sheng Zhiyu was silent for a moment: [Sorry.]
Lin Weiyu was about to show off his kindness and generosity when he heard Sheng Zhiyu say slowly: [But first, turn off that tearjerker movie in the background. It’s a bit loud.]
Lin Weiyu: …
Let me explain.
Sheng Zhiyu let out a silent smile and went to his suitcase to find a photogenic outfit. When he opened the box, he was hit by a massive wave of “Visual Kei” energy.
The stylist had packed the clothes based on two rules from Sheng Zhiyu: things he often wears, and things that look good on camera.
But the original owner was a band singer who valued personality and style above all else. Consequently… his everyday clothes were very Gothic.
With all those tattered strips and rusted-yellow metal bits, he looked like a runaway vagrant.
Not only were the clothes exaggerated, but the stylist had also thoughtfully packed sets of jewelry for each outfit so he could wear them as a complete look.
【Great. Put the clothes on, and you’re just a rainbow afro away from being a Y2K cool guy.】
“…”
After taking a full two minutes to process the original owner’s bizarre taste, Sheng Zhiyu dug out a black short-sleeved shirt that wasn’t too over-the-top. Aside from a very punk skull on the front, it was no different from a regular T-shirt.
As he went downstairs, a staff member reminded him to check the mailbox for last night’s letters.
Last night, using the excuse of feeling unwell, he had asked a staff member to deliver a letter to An Yu for him.
Everyone only has one chance to send a letter per day. It was a chance to gauge An Yu’s favorability.
Sheng Zhiyu’s attention had been entirely on An Yu yesterday. He hadn’t even recognized the faces of the other guests, so he didn’t expect anyone to send him a letter.
With that thought in mind, he reached into his mailbox and found three letters.
The protagonist An Yu, Xu Tu, and a name he had no memory of Chu Baiqian?
【Chu Baiqian?!】
【Isn’t that the official ‘Gong’ for the heartthrob protagonist?!】
Sheng Zhiyu looked at the blue envelope in silence.
It was expected that An Yu would send him a letter, and Xu Tu whether he was sincere or not, he would definitely approach to suck up to the Sheng family.
But Chu Baiqian?
Sheng Zhiyu stared at the envelope for a long time, still unable to remember any interaction he’d had with him.
Furthermore, in this heartthrob “crematorium,” shouldn’t it be An Yu doing something accidental that makes Chu Baiqian think “he’s so special,” causing him to approach?
Sheng Zhiyu pondered for a moment and headed downstairs with the three letters.
As he walked toward the dining table, the first person he saw was Qi Fan.
Then he heard Lin Weiyu let out a meaningful “Whoa” in his mind.
The reason was simple: Qi Fan was wearing a solid black neck collar, about three or four centimeters wide, wrapped around his neck.
The visual impact was very strong.
He had already attracted a lot of attention the moment he came down.
A bold guest joked: “Mr. Qi, has your rut started?”
Given Qi Fan’s status, his personal info was public knowledge, so his secondary gender as an Alpha was out in the open.
The elegant Alpha smiled slowly, his husky voice calm: “It seems so.”
After he spoke, several pairs of eyes at the table exchanged glances, carrying a hint of eagerness.
“Is Mr. Qi not used to using pheromone patches?”
The glands of Alphas and Omegas are very important areas, and various care products exist for them. The most common is the patch—a thin layer that protects that small patch of skin.
Qi Fan’s long fingers rested on the back of his chair as he pulled it out. His posture as he sat was still noble: “Yeah, I don’t really like them.”
Someone glanced at his neck again, their cheeks turning red: “A neck collar… I’ve only seen elders my dad’s age wear those, and usually, it’s Omegas.”
Items like collars were originally created for Omegas, symbolizing restraint and bondage, while also carrying the meaning of being dominated, emphasizing the master-servant relationship between Alphas and Omegas.
Later, while they weren’t limited to Omegas, almost no Alpha would wear one. After all, those in power are the arrogant ones; wearing such a thing is equivalent to showing a willingness to lower oneself and submit to a partner.
An Alpha willingly letting a partner lead them on a leash.
…But Qi Fan wore it, and so openly without concealment, which instead added a touch of indescribable, restrained sexiness.
“If Mr. Qi weren’t here for a dating show, I’d think he was making a public declaration of love for his partner.”
“You’ve got to be joking. Who has the ability to make Mr. Qi wear a collar? It must have been chosen by the stylist.”
“If an Alpha wore a collar for me, I’d die of happiness…”
On the other side of the long table, far from Qi Fan, the whispers of several guests drifted clearly into Sheng Zhiyu’s ears.
He gave a faint glance. Even An Yu next to him was blushing because of Qi Fan’s collar.
Quite the killer move, Qi Fan.
Soon, all the guests were at the table. As the food was served, the director asked everyone to reveal their letter status.
Last night’s letters decided today’s dating groups. If two people sent letters to each other, they would automatically form a group.
If a guest didn’t receive a reply from their target but received letters from others, they could decide whether to group up with those people.
The remaining guests were not forced to group up and could act freely.
Out of the ten guests, Sheng Zhiyu received the most letters—three in total. Since he had also sent a letter to An Yu, they were grouped together by default.
After the sorting, four people remained at the table, with Qi Fan and Chu Baiqian among them.
Qi Fan held a glass with his long fingers. When he lowered his narrow eyes, they swept over Sheng Zhiyu across the table. The young master was resting his chin on his hand, lazily cutting a fried egg into small pieces and feeding them into his mouth, looking to be in a good mood.
He showed none of the messiness from yesterday’s rut influence.
“Mr. Qi, you also received a letter last night,” a staff member reminded him at the table. “Do you have any thoughts on the grouping?”
The voice wasn’t loud, but Sheng Zhiyu still heard it. The hand holding his fork paused slightly, and his gaze lifted.
Before looking at Qi Fan, he saw the guest sitting two seats to Qi Fan’s right—the person’s hand shook first.
They looked very nervous.
However, after a moment of silence, Qi Fan simply put down his glass calmly and tilted his head politely to apologize to that guest.
“Sorry, I’m feeling unwell today and want to rest in the villa alone.”
His reason was so logical that there was no room for argument.
When breakfast ended, the three successful pairs received keys from the crew and could choose their own destinations.
The remaining guests could act freely within the villa area. Qi Fan casually pulled a German masterpiece from the bookshelf and sat down in the lounge area by the pool.
He had only turned a few pages when another figure slowly settled beside him.
It was Chu Baiqian.
“Mr. Qi,” Chu Baiqian nodded politely. “Do you mind if I sit here?”
Qi Fan didn’t look away from his book and gave a noble “Mhm.”
Chu Baiqian started with some polite small talk: “Are you feeling okay? Wearing a collar is the rut quite severe?”
Qi Fan smiled casually and gave an affirmative hum.
“I’m quite surprised by your choice, Mr. Qi.” Chu Baiqian followed up with a smile, his gaze landing on the calm pool where a leaf had fallen, creating ripples.
Qi Fan smiled casually, his response indifferent: “Is that so.”
“I don’t mean you rejecting the other guest.” Chu Baiqian turned back. “I mean you giving your letter to An Yu.”
Qi Fan’s gaze finally paused on a long word. He looked up, waiting for the rest of the sentence.
Chu Baiqian’s smile remained: “You were watching Sheng Zhiyu the whole-time last night. I thought your letter would go to him.”
Qi Fan liked quiet. Seeing him reading alone, the crew guessed there wouldn’t be much action, so the audio equipment was placed quite far away.
Right now, what Chu Baiqian was saying wasn’t being recorded.
But this didn’t sound like something the protagonist “Gong” would say.
Qi Fan spoke in a neutral tone: “Mr. Chu is quite observant.”
“Not really,” Chu Baiqian laughed softly. “It’s mainly that Sheng Zhiyu is hard to ignore. Especially for people a few years older than him, one’s gaze just naturally wanders toward him.”
…So it was that the little Alpha was too bright and attractive.
“I see.” As if reaching a conclusion, Qi Fan’s voice gained a touch of coldness. He casually turned a page. “So, Mr. Chu likes Xiao Yu too?”
Chu Baiqian paused, then shook his head. “Not quite. I’m just a bit interested.”
There was no beating around the bush in this clash between adults—only straightforward goals and gentlemanly challenges.
The sound of the page turning was crisp. Qi Fan’s tone was casually arrogant, but every syllable carried weight.
“Is that so.”