RBNR Ch90: His Omega

When the kiss deepened, the watch detected changes in his pheromones, and the warning motor began to vibrate. Only then did Feng Chengyu realize that things were getting out of control.

Perhaps it was the alcohol, or that Qin Bao had forgotten to bring his inhibitors, or perhaps their compatibility was high enough, but Qin Bao had actually entered a false heat.

He clearly knew they needed to return to the banquet, as Qin Bao, being the birthday star, had to cut the cake.

However, when they stumbled into a guest room and the Omega provocatively asked, “Dare to forget about the cake?” Feng Chengyu distinctly heard the sound of his rationality snapping…

Rapid breathing, disheveled clothing, bodies entangled in sweat.

Before the fire in the fireplace, a primal desire named possession overtook his body. His long-prided self-control collapsed utterly, yet he didn’t feel fearful, as their mutual attraction made it all seem natural.

Therefore, when things fell apart so quickly, he was caught off guard.

Qin Bao didn’t answer his calls or reply to his messages. The flowers he had carefully prepared and the cake he wanted Qin Bao to cut again were all in vain.

According to Uncle Qin, Qin Bao had run abroad alone after waking up. Officially, it was for work, but in reality, he was attending various parties, with photos constantly updating on his friends’ social media.

Fans said Qin Bao had come of age and was indulging in adult celebrations.

Feng Chengyu knew that Qin Bao was never a model child; he was always quite liberated both in private and in public. As a model, he was never shy about showing off his body.

However, the photos with scantily clad men and women, couples kissing passionately by the pool…

The other side of the glamorous world was finally revealed, exposing its decadence and rebellion.

Feng Chengyu patiently called Qin Bao, only to be met with a lukewarm response:

“We’re all adults. Having a one-night stand because of pheromones is normal.”

And, “When I said I was busy, I meant I’m not interested in you, so there’s no need to contact me anymore.”

Everything that happened that night was just because of their pheromones.

Feng Chengyu heard it clearly.

Hugging the person who turned hostile overnight was Feng Chengyu’s Waterloo.

Living to the age of twenty-seven, his life had always followed a predetermined path perfectly, without deviation. Qin Bao was the only variable.

But things didn’t end there. As the main characters of the “childhood engagement,” their disappearance for an entire night at the banquet was hard to ignore. What happened between them couldn’t be hidden from the elders, causing quite a stir between the two families.

“Since you’re already together, you should take responsibility,” even his aunt, Director Feng, called. “Chengyu, Xiao Bao is young; you need to be more accommodating.”

Feng Chengyu replied, “Understood.”

The Qin family was also in turmoil. Qin Bao had a huge fight with his family—he didn’t even remember their so-called engagement.

It might have been a whim to inquire about his history, and exchanging gifts was just polite reciprocation.

So, everything was his delusion. That night was just a one-night stand.

A newly adult has every reason to indulge.

It wasn’t until he accidentally ran into Qin Bao at an underground club that Feng Chengyu truly realized the generational gap between them.

It was clear that Qin Bao was new to this, uneasy with the club’s arrangements. When Feng Chengyu noticed him, he was already looking around, trying to leave.

Unfortunately, this wouldn’t be Qin Bao’s last time here.

When the inspection was about to end, Feng Chengyu grabbed Qin Bao’s hand. “Can we talk? I’m free at eleven.”

The Omega shook him off, clearly fed up with being “pestered.” “Mr. Feng, who cares when you’re free?”

With that, he left.

Instinctively, Feng Chengyu hooked his finger on the Omega’s collar. Qin Bao, startled, jumped like a scared cat and glared at him.

It wasn’t until Qin Bao disappeared from sight that Feng Chengyu realized he was smiling.

He didn’t mind Qin Bao’s love of fun, nor did he mind his rebelliousness. What he cared about was the chaotic beginning and the abrupt ending.

Whether it was because he valued the commitment between the two families, because they had already been intimate, or because Feng Chengyu’s years of abstinence made the Qin family feel guilty, Old Master Qin began arranging their marriage.

Qin Bao hated the idea of an arranged marriage and fiercely resisted, even going on a hunger strike in protest.

Mr. Qin called, hoping Feng Chengyu could talk to Qin Bao and, regardless of the outcome, prevent Qin Bao from harming himself further.

They finally had the opportunity to talk.

Arriving at the Qin residence, he found Qin Bao already weak from hunger.

The once radiant person had lost his luster. Feng Chengyu felt a strange sensation in his heart, like being pricked by needles, with a faint pain.

Both were adults, and having a relationship meant both bore responsibility, but in any case, he was the more mature one.

“Sorry, I mistakenly thought you knew and had feelings for me that day.”

Using a perspective of self-reflection as an opening, Feng Chengyu intended to have a good conversation.

“What made you think that?”

Qin Bao retorted.

A single sentence hit the mark.

Feng Chengyu fell silent.

When the engagement was arranged, he was already nine years old, old enough to remember things, while Qin Bao hadn’t even been born yet.

No one had the right to demand that Qin Bao remember.

The age gap couldn’t be changed, and the generational gap existed. As the older, more mature party, Feng Chengyu wasn’t incapable of minimizing it.

He said, “Perhaps after marriage, we can get along well.”

Qin Bao replied, “Impossible.”

The conversation gradually exposed the harsh truth. When Feng Chengyu asked Qin Bao, “If it hadn’t been me that night, but someone else, would you have taken the inhibitors?”

Or would Qin Bao, affected by pheromones and in false heat, have stumbled into a room with someone else and provocatively asked, “Dare to forget about the cake?”

In the dim light, Qin Bao’s usually bright eyes were vacant. He answered, “You’re just decent-looking; otherwise, it might not have been you.”

The prickling pain turned into a rusty blade, the pain became intense.

His Omega.

Could only be his Omega.

This thought hit his rationality.

The inherent tyranny and baseness of an Alpha couldn’t be hidden. Possessiveness surged, and pride and self-respect ultimately prevailed.

What he wanted couldn’t be coveted by anyone else.

In that moment, Feng Chengyu became despicable, releasing pheromones full of temptation, seizing Qin Bao’s breath, and uttering a very straightforward Alpha line: “You are already my Omega. Admit it and learn to accept it. I will do my best to give you the freedom you want.”

Clearly, having decided long ago to help the other party, this irrational moment turned into a conditional exchange.

“Marry me, and you can continue being a model, shooting ads, or acting in movies you want to make. I will bear the family pressure, convince my grandfather, and let you pursue your dreams… Think about it, you’ll definitely not lose in this deal.”

They got married.

Signing a five-year agreement, Qin Bao scrutinized the terms clearly and had no major objections to the content drafted by Feng Chengyu. The only request he made was to keep it private, as Feng Chengyu’s identity was too special and would affect his career.

As soon as they got the marriage certificate and stepped out of the civil affairs bureau, Qin Bao jumped a few meters away, avoiding suspicion.

Qin Bao had no interest in choosing a ring and didn’t want a wedding. Throughout the preparations, he hardly showed up.

Feng Chengyu didn’t expect Qin Bao would travel miles to another city just to invite a friend to be his groomsman.

Of course, Qin Bao didn’t go to Qinan alone but took his childhood friend Shan Yiming with him.

Riding on the back of Shan Yiming’s motorcycle, much like the photos taken on the day he finished the college entrance exam, both of them exuded youthful energy, as if they had a barrier that others couldn’t penetrate.

Fortunately, Qin Bao made his relationships clear, just as he did with Feng Chengyu, unreservedly drawing a clear line between feelings. His straightforward personality meant he expressed likes and dislikes openly.

That night, he called Feng Chengyu’s name and told him, “Did you know I actually liked you a little?”

Feng Chengyu’s heart sank.

He wasn’t unaware, but it wasn’t until Qin Bao said it himself that he could be sure.

Feng Chengyu chased after him, pressing, “What do you mean by a little?”

Qin Bao raised his head defiantly and replied, “Just a little, and now there’s none left.”

The Omega’s eyes were bright and moist, looking somewhat aggrieved. Feng Chengyu wanted to kiss him.

It felt like a blockage had been cleared.

He grasped Qin Bao’s wrist, his palm tingling: “Since there was a little, then give a bit more.”

Qin Bao’s eyes were candid, his answer resolute. That bit of affection had indeed long disappeared: “I can’t give any more. I don’t like things that are priced and forcibly given to me.”

Their marriage began impulsively and with mutual misunderstandings, marked by Qin Bao’s career.

But it didn’t matter; as long as there had been that “little bit of affection,” it was enough.

Feng Chengyu didn’t mind being a hunter waiting by the tree, laying traps, luring the prey into gradual submission.

One blunder was enough to be laughable. Before the proud Omega stepped into the trap, he wouldn’t expose his intentions again.

Once the mechanism was triggered, he would accurately and decisively bite the Omega’s neck, making the Omega willingly submit and belong to him alone forever.