MVCFO H39

Lu Cong was deeply moved by Lin Xiangqi’s final words, though he couldn’t pinpoint why.

It was just an overly poetic, sentimental metaphor, yet it felt like something had struck his heart hard, leaving him stunned, unable to recover for a long time.

For Lin Xiangqi, pouring out so many words at once was no small feat.

After all, these were things he could never have said openly in the past. He’d been a shrinking turtle for too long, and now, standing tall and delivering such a long speech, it felt like he’d wrung out his very soul.

He felt lighter now, smiling as he said:

“I don’t know why I could only say these things today. Maybe in the past, I always wanted to leave myself an escape route, thinking that if I didn’t say them, there’d be room to backtrack. Or maybe I was just cowardly, too used to passively accepting everything you gave me. I always thought you were invincible, capable of anything, so I selfishly dumped the hardest problems on you.”

“When I’m with you, I feel safe enough, so I didn’t want to change anything. I was afraid any shift would bring unpredictable consequences. So I stayed in place, avoiding plans for the future, deluding myself into thinking we could keep our relationship frozen like this.”

“But… I actually knew. Avoiding it only delays the inevitable. What I need to do is face change head-on. People have to move forward. The future, good or bad, will come. And change isn’t always bad, right?”

He smiled at Lu Cong, unaware that tears had slipped down his face.

Perhaps it was because the feelings he’d kept bottled up, never daring to admit, had finally been spoken so freely today, bringing an uncontrollable sense of relief.

In this moment, Lin Xiangqi realized that his evasive, timid, half-spoken yet restless emotions had never diminished.

And today, he’d finally told Lu Cong.

Lu Cong reached out to wipe his tears, pulling him close, responding to his words: “I promise, every day in the future will be better than the past. So don’t worry, Yanyan.”

Lin Xiangqi nodded, nestling in Lu Cong’s arms, waiting quietly for a while.

He’d said so much today, a rare outpouring. He was sure Lu Cong would respond with even more words.

But after waiting forever—nothing.

Lu Cong… wasn’t shocked?

Just one sentence in response, and that was it?

…Was his speech not impactful enough, or did Lu Cong not get it?

“Lu Cong, don’t you have anything else to say?” Lin Xiangqi prodded, a bit miffed. “Share your thoughts.”

Lu Cong said, “I’m thinking.”

Lin Xiangqi: “Uh-huh, about what?”

Lu Cong: “Your last paragraph.”

Lin Xiangqi waited eagerly: “My last paragraph—”

Was it inspiring, moving, heart-stirring, tear-jerking?

Lu Cong: “It felt like a hint.”

Lin Xiangqi: “Huh?”

What hint? He had no idea.

He’d just expressed his thoughts literally. What was he hinting at?

The next moment, Lu Cong leaned in, pressing his lips to Lin Xiangqi’s, saying, “Even though you already know, I need to say it again, seriously, Yanyan. I like you. From long ago, before I even knew what liking was, I liked you uncontrollably, loved you, wanted you, so—”

Lin Xiangqi clapped a hand over his mouth. “Okay, okay, I get it! Don’t just blurt out sappy stuff like that!”

Lu Cong easily pried his hand away, finishing firmly:

“So, Yanyan, will you be with me?”

Lin Xiangqi’s face blazed red. “Why’d we suddenly jump from college talk to this?”

“Not sudden,” Lu Cong corrected. “You said you were scared of change before, wanting to keep our relationship as it was. Now you’re not afraid. You want to move forward. So, Yanyan, you’ve decided to accept me, right?”

Lin Xiangqi: “…I.”

He had said that, but he wasn’t hinting for a confession!

He was just being honest about his feelings.

But maybe…

His feelings were exactly as Lu Cong described.

Wanting to be brave, to embrace change.

Lin Xiangqi hesitated, looking at Lu Cong, then said awkwardly, “But… isn’t dating too early bad?”

Their pledge was still in Qin Xiao’s hands.

“Mm, it’s not good. The school doesn’t encourage early dating, and I don’t support us, as students, sneaking around behind the teachers’ backs,” Lu Cong said gravely.

Lin Xiangqi’s face fell, shoving him. “Then why talk about being together? Are you messing with me? Annoying!”

“Not annoying,” Lu Cong said. “Yanyan, we’re not dating early. We’re going to get married openly.”

Typically, if an Alpha-Omega pair has a compatibility match over 95%, it’s assumed they’ll marry and form a family.

Not just because of pheromone attraction, but because the Alliance’s Pheromone Evolution Center published a study:

When a superior and inferior mate, the inferior’s pheromones neutralize the pair’s, resulting in pheromones weaker than superior-grade.
But when two superiors pair, their pheromones fuse into something even stronger.

Superior-grade pheromones are rare. To preserve these elite genes, the Alliance intervenes at a national level, matching high-grade Alphas and Omegas.

From the moment they differentiate, their data is logged in the Alliance’s database. At marriageable age, they’re automatically paired with compatible partners. Over thirty Alliance nations share one massive pheromone database, meaning even a stranger from another planet could be a match if their pheromone grades align.

Of course, matched pairs can refuse. It’s not forced marriage—just an option.
But most gene-driven AO elite families accept these matches, which is why Shen Qiaolan was so conflicted, convinced he’d never end up with Lin Xiangqi.

Lu Cong was an exception. Even when Lin Xiangqi was still a Beta, he’d decided it was him or no one. After realizing his feelings, Lu Cong immediately asked Qi Ye to remove his data from the matching pool.

Qi Ye tried, but the Alliance’s tradition allowed no exceptions.
Lu Cong could reject matches, but his pheromone profile would stay in the database.
Meaning, as long as he was unmarried, high-compatibility Omegas could access his basic info at marriageable age.

After Lin Xiangqi differentiated, his data was also entered, same as Lu Cong’s.
He could reject Alphas, but they’d still know his name and pheromone scent.

Some criticized the matching system as rigid, feudal, and cold, prioritizing genes over emotions.

Lu Cong once found it merely annoying. Now, imagining Lin Xiangqi matched with random Alphas, forced to know how many high-compatibility suitors he had, he loathed the system.

Legally, married AO pairs have their data frozen in the database. If they permanently mark each other and apply, the database verifies and deletes their records entirely.

Lu Cong wanted to drag Lin Xiangqi to get a marriage license now and freeze their data.
Maybe he was impatient, but he couldn’t help it.

This was the answer he’d waited for, dreamed of countless times.

Anything unrelated was in one ear, out the other. Right now, he only wanted Lin Xiangqi’s answer on this.

If the Alliance ever cracked down on lovestruck fools, Lu Cong would undoubtedly be the first hauled up for public execution.

Even facing death, he’d clutch his marriage certificate with Lin Xiangqi, shouting “I love you” on the guillotine.

Alright, that was just his overly excited imagination.

In reality, Lin Xiangqi was dumbfounded by his sudden proposal.

They were only eighteen. At an AO academy, it’d be fine—plenty of young lords and ladies got engaged at sixteen or seventeen.
But in a regular school, talking about marriage so early would make the teachers—especially Qin Xiao—think they were doomed, their lives ruined.

Lin Xiangqi bit his finger, wanting to say something, but Lu Cong’s gaze was so intense it seemed like if they didn’t marry today, the world would erupt in a firestorm centered on him, scorching the eastern hemisphere.

What saved Lin Xiangqi was a phone call from the unburned northern hemisphere.

It was Lu Huo calling.
And not for Lu Cong—for Lin Xiangqi.

Seeing the caller ID, both were visibly surprised.
Lin Xiangqi’s first thought: “Did he dial the wrong number?”

Lu Cong’s fiery eyes hadn’t cooled, his mood soured by his father’s interruption. With nowhere to vent, he said gently to Lin Xiangqi, “Let me take it.”

Lin Xiangqi handed over the phone.

When the call connected, Lu Huo boomed, “Afternoon, Xiao Lin! Your aunt and I are coming back for the New Year. Any gift requests?”

Even without speakerphone, Lin Xiangqi heard clearly. Realizing it wasn’t a mistake, he reached to take the phone back.
But Lu Cong didn’t return it, responding to Lu Huo in an overly cold tone, “Dad, it’s me.”

The other end went quiet. Lu Huo’s voice dropped, steady and low, “Mm.”

Then neither spoke.

Lin Xiangqi: “?”

What feud did this father and son have?
Why was the vibe so weird?!

Lu Cong spoke again, “What gifts are you bringing?”

Lin Xiangqi shook his head disapprovingly, waving his hands to signal he didn’t need gifts.
Lu Cong switched to speakerphone, letting Lu Huo’s voice fill the air.

“I don’t buy kid stuff,” Lu Huo said, calm and even.

Lin Xiangqi piped up softly, “Uncle, thank you, but you don’t need to get me anything. Just coming back for the New Year is enough.”

Lu Huo’s voice suddenly shot up, almost squeaking, “No way! Gifts for the younger generation are a must. How about this—does your school have shooting classes? I’ll bring you a couple of guns to play with.”

Lin Xiangqi jumped, “No, no! I don’t have a gun license. I’d get arrested!”

Lu Huo laughed, “What’s the big deal? Cong’er has one. If anyone’s getting arrested, it’s him.”

Lu Cong: “.”

Lin Xiangqi, face crumpled, “Really, Uncle, no need. What if it misfires?”

Lu Huo patiently explained, “Don’t worry, these aren’t military-grade. I gave a talk at an Alliance military academy recently and saw the kids training with these. Low power, but they look the part. Perfect for you to mess around with.”

Lin Xiangqi fell silent, looking pitifully at Lu Cong.

Lu Cong said, “Don’t bring guns back. Keep them yourself.”

Lu Huo: “What would I do with them? The bullets crumple if you pinch them.”

Lu Cong: “Then toss them.”

Lu Huo’s composed facade cracked, barking, “You little brat, what’s it to you? Was I talking to you? Who asked you? Give the phone to Xiao Lin, or I’ll deal with you!”

Lu Cong: “If you bring guns back for the New Year, I’ll write a complaint to the military.”

Lu Huo: “???”

Lu Cong: “Hanging up.”

Lin Xiangqi rushed in, “Uncle, bye!”

Lu Huo: “By—”

Beep, beep, beep.

Lin Xiangqi grimaced at Lu Cong. “What’s with that attitude? He’s an Alliance general! Fewer than ten people in the world dare talk to him like that.”

Lu Cong, exasperated, softened his tone for Lin Xiangqi but couldn’t hide his irritation. “He’s the only one in the world who’d dare interrupt my proposal.”

Lin Xiangqi: “…”

Oh, great.

Back to that topic.

But Lu Huo’s call had already shattered the intimate, charged atmosphere between them.

Lu Cong’s temple throbbed, silently fuming.
He knew Lin Xiangqi’s personality—once the momentum was gone, he’d retreat and need ages to build it back up.

He couldn’t force him, though.
And today, Lin Xiangqi had already given him so many surprises. He should be content.

Lin Xiangqi didn’t push him away, even said they’d set off together to find the future. They had plenty of time to take it slow.

Convincing himself, Lu Cong rubbed his brow, sighed lightly, and steered the conversation back to school. “I have some military academy materials, more detailed than what’s online. You can look them over. I’m not too familiar with Capital University’s medical department, but we can research it together—”

“Let’s get married, then,” Lin Xiangqi said suddenly.

“—As for permanent marking, don’t think about it yet. Focus on your health…” Lu Cong froze mid-sentence, his neck stiffening. “Yanyan, did you just say something?”

Lin Xiangqi tilted his head. “Yeah, I did.”

Lu Cong still thought he was hearing things.

As if unaware he’d dropped a bombshell, Lin Xiangqi started planning aloud, “But I think marrying now is too rushed. After getting the license, we’d have to plan a wedding, right? But we’ve got college entrance exams coming up, and that’d be distracting. How about after the exams, when we get our diplomas? Yeah, that works—two certificates in one day, pretty—” “Wahhh!”

Before he could finish, Lu Cong swept him up, lifting him high.

Lin Xiangqi squirmed. “Are you crazy?”

Lu Cong didn’t answer, just kept holding him, spinning in circles.

The spinning left Lin Xiangqi dizzy, stars dancing in his eyes. Suddenly, he found himself sprawled on the couch, Lu Cong pinning him down, holding him even tighter.

But he didn’t cross any lines—just held him, tightly.

Lu Cong’s body was warm, his breathing rapid. Even with the neck ring, Lin Xiangqi could almost feel the restless stir of his pheromones.

Lin Xiangqi wondered if he’d agreed too hastily.

Lu Cong didn’t seem prepared at all.

He looked downright unhinged.

Had Lu Cong just been teasing with that proposal, not expecting him to say yes?

But Lin Xiangqi soon realized he was overthinking. Lu Cong wasn’t unprepared—he’d wanted this too much.

Getting what you’ve longed for so fiercely can leave anyone dazed.

Even Lu Cong.

Soon, Lin Xiangqi felt Lu Cong snap out of it, starting to kiss him. But unlike their usual pheromone-charged, deep kisses, these were simple, lips-only touches.

Urgent kisses, from forehead to brow, cheeks to lips, ears, neck, collarbone, shoulders. Light, fleeting, but fiercely eager.

As if he were pouring all his inner fire into Lin Xiangqi through these tender gestures, urging him to burn alongside him.

Lin Xiangqi was kissed into a daze, unaware when his shirt was tugged up.

Lu Cong left more and more red kiss marks on his pale skin, a mix of barely restrained fervor and deliberate intent.

When he reached his chest, Lin Xiangqi couldn’t help but clutch Lu Cong’s head, shrinking back. “What are you doing? Say something!”

After a long pause, Lu Cong nuzzled against him, stopping at a restrained spot. He called out, full name: “Lin Xiangqi.”

Lin Xiangqi blinked, momentarily distracted. “I’m so used to you calling me by my nickname, hearing my full name feels weird.”

Lu Cong didn’t take the bait for the joke, continuing solemnly, “Lin Xiangqi, will you be my lifelong partner?”

Lin Xiangqi froze, mouth opening, stammering for a while before muttering, “…That’s not how wedding vows go.”

Lu Cong looked at him. “Is it? Teach me, then.”

Lin Xiangqi racked his prodigious memory, recalling a line from a TV drama he’d seen, reciting awkwardly:

“Do you vow, in good times or bad, in poverty or wealth, in sickness or health, no matter… well, no matter what, to love me, respect me, stay with me, never leave, and be together forever?”

Lu Cong didn’t respond.

Lin Xiangqi glared. “You don’t want to?”

After a moment, Lu Cong spoke, “I’ll do everything in my power to make your future filled with good times. I’ll give you material wealth and emotional fulfillment. I’ll keep you healthy, free from injury or illness.”

He paused, locking eyes with Lin Xiangqi, speaking with utmost seriousness despite it not being a real wedding vow.

“At all times, I’ll love you, respect you, cherish you, stay by your side, never leave, and be with you forever. So, Mr. Lin Xiangqi, will you share a happy, fulfilling life with me?”

Lin Xiangqi’s eyes sparkled as he shouted, “Wow, you changed the vows! So, sticking with you means I’ll only have good days?”

“Yes,” Lu Cong nodded.

His promises were always like this—seemingly casual, but once spoken, he’d move heaven and earth to keep them.

Lin Xiangqi knew him well.

“Perfect, I’m all in for good days.”

Grinning, Lin Xiangqi hooked his legs around Lu Cong’s waist, shouting loudly,

“—I do, I do, I do!”