MVCFO CH18

That afternoon, they had two full sessions of entrance formation practice for the sports meet. Everyone was exhausted by the end of it, so the homeroom teacher finally let them off early to rest.

Only Lin Xiangqi was still bursting with energy.

Even during math class—his least favorite subject—he was all smiles, so much so that the math teacher standing at the podium was completely stunned.

Unable to stand Lin Xiangqi’s sparkling eyes any longer, the teacher called on him and said, “Lin Xiangqi, you seem to be paying extra attention today. Have you mastered this section already? Why don’t you come up and try solving this problem?”

Lin Xiangqi replied cheerfully, “Hehe, I don’t know how.”

The teacher was so angry his beard seemed to stand on end. “If you don’t know the answer, what are you smiling about? Wasted such a clever-looking face. Sit down! And no more laughing, you hear me?”

The whole class erupted. Someone said, “Teacher, you don’t know—Lin Xiangqi’s been grinning all afternoon. When we were practicing our formation on the sports field, another class’s teacher even borrowed him!”

The teacher, distracted, became curious. “Borrowed him for what?”

Everyone chimed in at once, “They said he looked like a lucky mascot. Just standing next to him made people happy.”

At that moment, Lin Xiangqi was off to the side again: “Hehe.”

The whole classroom burst into laughter along with him.

At dismissal, Lin Xiangqi looked like a prisoner being released after a long sentence—he sprang up from his seat and ran over to grab Lu Cong’s hand, eager to dash out of the classroom.

Lu Cong could’ve easily walked ahead of him, but he didn’t.

He let Lin Xiangqi pull him along and followed behind at an unhurried pace.

He didn’t warn Lin Xiangqi to be careful of bumping into people either. But whenever Lin Xiangqi was about to collide with someone, he would gently pull him into his arms to avoid it.

Lin Xiangqi seemed used to this already.

As long as Lu Cong was nearby, he could crash around however he pleased. Even if he caused trouble, it was fine—because Lu Cong would always be there to catch him.

Lin Xiangqi had already arranged for a delivery guy to bring his birthday cake and dinner.

By the time they got home, everything had arrived. He said to Lu Cong, “You’re not allowed to help today!”

Lu Cong nodded obediently. “Okay.”

So he leaned against the kitchen island, quietly watching Lin Xiangqi bustle around, and really didn’t lend a hand—because Lin Xiangqi looked like he was truly enjoying the process of preparing everything himself.

When dinner was laid out on the table and the candles on the cake were lit, Lin Xiangqi even insisted on turning off the lights for a sense of ceremony. He clasped his hands and closed his eyes.

“Let’s just call this an early birthday celebration.”

His eighteenth birthday was actually that Friday.

But ever since his parents passed away, he hadn’t really been in the mood for birthdays or any loud, festive holidays. Maybe he was afraid of remembering what it used to be like when his family was whole, so he instinctively avoided such occasions.

Lu Cong understood this, so they usually didn’t make a big deal of such days.

But that didn’t mean Lin Xiangqi didn’t like celebration.

On the contrary, for him, as long as they were happy, any day could be worth commemorating. If every day was joyful enough, there was no need to pin all their hopes on just one.

If a sense of ritual was about celebrating something important—

Then Lin Xiangqi felt that this moment right now was more meaningful than any so-called coming-of-age ceremony.

Because he had broken free of the original story’s constraints, escaped what had once seemed like a doomed ending. The life ahead of him was now unshackled and free.

That was something truly worth celebrating.

He had placed only one candle on the cake, to symbolize the first day he had broken away from “fate.”

And he didn’t use that precious wish for himself.

Lin Xiangqi had left the plot behind, but Lu Cong was still the “villain” of the story.

Although nothing had yet happened between Lu Cong and Shen Qiaolan that might lead to an irreversible grudge, Lin Xiangqi still feared that Lu Cong might end up following the tragic path laid out in the novel.

He didn’t want Lu Cong to die.

So, when he made his wish, he silently said in his heart:

—“I hope Lu Cong can also break free from the original story’s chains, have a bright future, and live a happy life.”

Then he blew out the candle.

Lu Cong turned the lights back on for him.

Lin Xiangqi cut a piece of cake and handed it to Lu Cong, saying seriously, “Lu Cong, the two of us have to live to be a hundred, okay?”

The line came so suddenly, with no context at all.

Lu Cong’s pupils contracted when he heard it, and his hand paused as he took the plate.

After a moment, while Lin Xiangqi was already sitting down and eating the cake, Lu Cong was still staring at the one in his hands, stunned.

Live to be a hundred—what did that mean?

Inexplicably, four words popped into Lu Cong’s mind…

Grow old together.

“You should eat,” Lin Xiangqi urged him. “The cream’s really good—not too sweet, try it.”

Lu Cong nodded and absentmindedly took a bite.

Lin Xiangqi: “!!!”

Lin Xiangqi: “Why are you chewing the fork too?!”

—

On the day of Lin Xiangqi’s actual birthday, everything was ordinary.

No special cake, no decorations around the house.

He hadn’t planned anything out of the ordinary either.

Turning eighteen, to him, felt no different from turning seventeen, sixteen, or fifteen.

Without his parents, the house felt a little empty. He knew he could never again have the lively, warm home he did before the age of fourteen. He had long accepted that.

When Lin Xiangqi pushed open the door, he saw Lu Cong in the courtyard holding a steaming bowl of longevity noodles.

“Happy birthday, Yanyan,” Lu Cong said with a smile.

Lin Xiangqi froze.

For a moment, he thought he might cry.

He instinctively looked down and rubbed his eyes under the excuse that he hadn’t fully woken up. Fortunately, they weren’t wet.

When he looked up again, he was beaming.

“Thanks.” He took the bowl and tilted his head playfully at Lu Cong. “You’re with me again this year. If there ever comes a day you’re not, I’d be so lonely.”

Lu Cong looked at him. “As long as you want me to be, I’ll always be here.”

Everyone likes to hear sweet words.

Lin Xiangqi’s eyes curved into a smile when he heard that.

Suddenly inspired, he picked up some noodles with his chopsticks and held them out to Lu Cong. “Here, you eat.”

Lu Cong looked at him, puzzled. “You don’t like it?”

He’d made this every year, and Lin Xiangqi had always eaten happily.

Why not today?

Lu Cong began to doubt himself.

Since this was Lin Xiangqi’s coming-of-age birthday, he had tried to make the longevity noodles extra special—adding more ingredients than usual, even frying two eggs, making it look full and abundant.

Maybe Lin Xiangqi didn’t like too many toppings?

Or maybe it didn’t look good this time?

“I do like it. And it smells delicious,” Lin Xiangqi insisted. “But I want you to eat the first bite. So we can both live a long life.”

The same four words popped into Lu Cong’s head again.

He didn’t remember how he managed to finish that bowl of noodles with Lin Xiangqi, standing in the courtyard.

He couldn’t taste a thing. He barely even chewed. As long as Lin Xiangqi fed it to him, he just ate it.

True to his carefree nature, once he finished, Lin Xiangqi shoved the bowl into Lu Cong’s hands and asked expectantly, “Where’s my present?”

Lu Cong took the bowl, blinked slowly, and said, “At my place.”

“I want to open it now!”

Lin Xiangqi immediately dashed to Lu Cong’s house.

Lu Cong followed behind slowly, lost in thought.

It wasn’t until Lin Xiangqi let out a squeal of delight from the living room that he came back to his senses and walked in.

“You bought so much!” Lin Xiangqi waved at him from the pile of gifts.

Lu Cong had been preparing the presents for a long time.

He knew Lin Xiangqi didn’t like celebrating birthdays, and even for a coming-of-age birthday, he might not want to make a fuss. Which meant he probably wouldn’t get many gifts.

But that was okay—Lu Cong could make up for that small regret.

He alone could give Lin Xiangqi more than anyone else combined. He would give him everything he ever wanted.

Lin Xiangqi unwrapped gift after gift, completely thrilled. He refused to leave even as they were running late for class. In the end, Lu Cong had to physically lift him out of the gift pile.

“Enough, stop playing,” Lu Cong said, holding the squirming Lin Xiangqi. “They’re all yours. You can open the rest later.”

Only then did Lin Xiangqi settle down. But he still refused to go to school obediently with his backpack.

He reached out and hugged Lu Cong tightly.

At moments like this, whether he said thank you or said nothing at all—it didn’t matter.

Lu Cong would understand that this hug was because he was deeply moved.

But right after hugging Lu Cong, Lin Xiangqi suddenly grew nervous and quickly let go, his cheeks flushed pink. His eyes darted around as he said, “Huh? Why do I feel a little hot? Did you turn on the heater?”

“No.” Lu Cong’s gaze fell on Lin Xiangqi’s unnaturally flushed face.

Lin Xiangqi took two deep breaths and still said, “But it really is hot… Ah, forget it, I’m going out for some air.”

He hurriedly turned to leave, but Lu Cong pulled him back into his arms.

In that instant, Lin Xiangqi’s whole body tensed.

“Yanyan,”

Lu Cong’s voice dropped, his warm breath brushing against the back of Lin Xiangqi’s ear. “How many days has it been since our last mark?”

Lin Xiangqi’s breath hitched, and his heart started pounding erratically.

Ever since Tang Luyu gave his advice, Lu Cong hadn’t brought up marking again. He respected Lin Xiangqi’s wishes and waited for Lin Xiangqi to initiate it himself.

And up until today, Lin Xiangqi hadn’t felt any physical discomfort. The last time Lu Cong gave him his pheromones, it should have been enough to last until the weekend.

But just now, after that brief hug, his glands had instantly throbbed in pain—

And then there were signs of fever spreading through his body.

Lin Xiangqi suspected this had something to do with what Dr. Tang had mentioned before: his glands might be entering a second differentiation phase.

His gland activity would increase, and sometimes they would even “proactively” emit signals, subconsciously seeking Alpha pheromones. Dr. Tang said this was all normal.

This meant that Lin Xiangqi’s glands had more or less absorbed the pheromones Lu Cong had previously given him, and they could mark again.

To be honest, after a few days of calming down, Lin Xiangqi had already come to terms with how overly intense Lu Cong’s marking had been that night. He couldn’t really say he hated it—he definitely didn’t reject it. At most, he just felt nervous and a little embarrassed.

But they were about to head to class, and if they marked now, there was no way he’d be able to leave the room for the entire morning.

He gripped Lu Cong’s arm and gently pushed him away. “Not now.”

Lu Cong was silent for a moment, then let go without insisting. He walked over to the medicine box and took out a new suppressant patch, which he carefully applied to Lin Xiangqi.

“Even if we’re not marking, I still need to wear this?” Lin Xiangqi didn’t understand his reasoning.

It had been several days since their last marking, and Lin Xiangqi no longer smelled of Lu Cong’s pheromones. The bite mark on his neck had mostly faded too, so he’d stopped using patches—especially since classmates kept asking him if he’d injured his neck.

And yet, Lu Cong applied one for him again.

“Your glands are more sensitive. It’s better to avoid contact with any pheromones besides mine.” Lu Cong saw Lin Xiangqi’s confused expression and added, “And some low-quality scents might make you uncomfortable.”

For some reason, Lin Xiangqi felt like that last sentence was aimed at Shen Qiaolan.

But he had no proof.

After all, they could bump into Alphas on the street too—whose pheromones might also trigger his glands.

Fortunately, after stepping outside, the feverish sensation faded. Lin Xiangqi felt relieved.

As they walked, Lin Xiangqi chatted with Lu Cong about the sports meet, about where to travel after the college entrance exams, and even about how over-the-top all those gifts were, telling him not to waste money like that in the future.

Lu Cong answered every question, kept up with every topic. His tone was normal, and his expression didn’t change much.

But Lin Xiangqi didn’t know why—he just felt like Lu Cong wasn’t really in high spirits.

It wasn’t that he seemed unhappy, and he didn’t look angry either… but something was off. Lin Xiangqi just couldn’t figure out what.

Once again, it was one of those emotions that Lin Xiangqi couldn’t read.

At times like this, Lin Xiangqi couldn’t help but think:

If only Lu Cong were as easy to understand as he was that night.

With the sports meet coming up, the third-year students were unusually excited.

All day long, Lin Xiangqi could feel the lively energy in the air.

The sports meet was one of the few chances they had to truly relax, so it was only natural everyone was thrilled.

Lin Xiangqi was actually excited too, but part of him kept wondering if something was bothering Lu Cong that he hadn’t said out loud. He just couldn’t settle down.

Between classes, he kept glancing at Lu Cong, hoping to read something in his expression.

But there was nothing.

Lu Cong was still the same—impeccable, unreadable.

Eventually, Lin Xiangqi gave up. During lunch, he asked Lu Cong directly.

He said, “Are you… feeling unwell today?”

Lu Cong looked at him curiously. “Me? No.”

Lin Xiangqi wrinkled his nose. “I feel like you’re not in a good mood.”

“Really?” Lu Cong didn’t look surprised, nor did he admit it. He simply raised an eyebrow and asked in return, “Why do you say that?”

Why?

Lin Xiangqi didn’t know either!

He hadn’t actually seen any signs of a bad mood on Lu Cong’s face—it was just this vague feeling.

“So are you in a bad mood or not?” Lin Xiangqi pressed.

Lu Cong looked at him for a long moment, then suddenly let out a soft laugh. “I guess… not in a great one.”

Lin Xiangqi: “!!!”

Lin Xiangqi: “I knew it!”

But Lu Cong seemed curious. “How did you know?”

He was certain he had hidden all of his emotions perfectly. There was no way Lin Xiangqi could’ve noticed.

Lin Xiangqi said, “That doesn’t matter. What matters is—why are you in a bad mood?”

Lu Cong’s gaze steadied on him, serious and quiet.

Lin Xiangqi started to get goosebumps from being stared at like that. With Lu Cong looking so serious, he thought maybe he was angry.

But then he heard Lu Cong say, “Sorry. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Lin Xiangqi bit his lip, stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, then said, “You know, in novels, characters who don’t talk when they should always get roasted by the readers.”

You’re the original big villain, Lin Xiangqi thought silently. Your character’s already unlikable, and now you won’t talk? You’re doomed!

Lu Cong looked at him with a smile. “So… are you roasting me in your head too?”

“I don’t care about you.” Lin Xiangqi turned away with a huff. “Hmph.” Then walked off.

Whatever it was that made Lu Cong upset, since he refused to say, Lin Xiangqi decided he wouldn’t press.

But now, thanks to Lu Cong, Lin Xiangqi was in a bad mood too.

He decided to throw a mini tantrum—give Lu Cong a little taste of his own medicine. He resolved not to talk to Lu Cong during lunch break.

Conveniently, most of the class was heading down to the track to practice for the sports meet. Ignoring Lu Cong’s concerned glance, Lin Xiangqi went downstairs with Chen Qiutian and the others.

The field was packed.

Students from other classes and grades had come down too.

“Quick, quick, quick—grab a good spot!”

Zhang Kebo led a bunch of boys toward a large open area.

Lin Xiangqi didn’t follow them. He had to train for the 400-meter dash, so he stayed on the track.

He scanned the other students nearby.

Most people had signed up for events they were good at, so things were going pretty smoothly.

A few were just roped into participating and didn’t take it seriously—they were just there to hang out and had already started goofing off.

Lin Xiangqi was somewhere in between.

He had signed up for an event he wasn’t good at, but he didn’t want to slack off either. So it was an awkward struggle.

Physically, he wasn’t in bad shape, but he definitely wasn’t the athletic type either. He already found it hard to keep up during PE class, let alone in a race.

Still, he didn’t want to come in dead last. He had something to prove.

He warmed up at the starting line, ready to run a test lap—only to notice someone had appeared next to him.

Thinking it was just another student practicing, he welcomed the company—running alone was boring. He was about to ask if they wanted to race when he looked up…

…and saw a face that gave him PTSD.

It was Shen Qiaolan.

Seriously?!

Today was his eighteenth birthday, and this guy had to show up now? He was supposed to have a great day—get lost, canon ghost of doom!

Lin Xiangqi didn’t say a word. He just took off running.

His explosive start left Shen Qiaolan speechless, still mid-opening-line: “Lin Xiangqi—!”

A few seconds later, Shen Qiaolan’s face darkened. He sprinted after him, hot on Lin Xiangqi’s heels.

As an Alpha with innate physical advantage, Shen Qiaolan caught up easily.

While running, he said, “What’s the meaning of this? You’ve been ignoring me on purpose?”

Lin Xiangqi was already struggling with his breathing. Talking would only throw him off more, so he simply didn’t respond.

But Shen Qiaolan wouldn’t shut up. “Lin Xiangqi, if this is your way of getting my attention, you’d better give up now. All it’ll do is make me lose patience. You won’t gain a thing.”

“And what’s with that oversized uniform? Is it Lu Cong’s? You’re wearing his uniform? What, too poor to buy your own now?”

“I’m talking to you—stop running!”

Furious, Shen Qiaolan reached out and grabbed Lin Xiangqi, forcing him to stop and face him. “Tell me. What exactly do you mean by this?”

Lin Xiangqi: “Ugh—”

Shen Qiaolan: “?”

The retching wasn’t fake.

Lin Xiangqi’s stamina was already limited. He needed to pace his breathing to run properly. But Shen Qiaolan had been yammering nonstop, distracting him. They kept speeding up as they chased each other, making it impossible to regulate his pace.

Stopping so abruptly made him feel awful.

“Shen Qiaolan, stop bothering me.” Lin Xiangqi said.

That sentence made Shen Qiaolan furious. “I’m bothering you? Me? Bothering you?!”

His expression screamed: Are you insane?

“Don’t forget—it was you who said you liked me first.”

But Lin Xiangqi looked perfectly calm as he said, “Well, I don’t like you anymore. I’m not going to chase you anymore. From now on, we’re just classmates. So if you don’t have anything urgent—don’t show up around m—wait, what’s that smell…”

He stared at Shen Qiaolan in disbelief—

That maniac was releasing pheromones again. In public!

Lin Xiangqi instinctively wanted to cover the back of his neck but held back—doing so would tip Shen Qiaolan off. He had no intention of letting him know he was an Omega.

Fortunately, when he left the house, Lu Cong had put a pheromone-blocking patch on him.

But such patches could only prevent most accidental pheromone encounters.

If an exceptional Alpha stood right in front of him and deliberately released a large amount of pheromones, there was still a high chance it would seep through the barrier.

Lin Xiangqi felt uneasy and took two steps back. “Shen Qiaolan, in your current mental state, you’d better go see a doctor. I won’t keep you company.”

He knew he couldn’t outrun Shen Qiaolan, so he cleverly slipped into the crowd.

Shen Qiaolan had wanted to catch him, but Lin Xiangqi knew exactly what the other valued most—his pride. So he deliberately struck at that sore spot and loudly shouted in front of everyone, “What’s the fun in an Alpha chasing a Beta?!”

As expected, Shen Qiaolan stopped, his face dark and resentful as he stared at Lin Xiangqi through the crowd.

In the end, he didn’t continue the chase.

His emotions were already on the verge of collapsing,

But his pride wouldn’t let him admit it.

When the lunch break ended, a group of sweaty boys returned to the classroom.

The girls, wrinkling their noses, opened the windows.

“Ugh, it stinks. Can’t you guys air out before coming in?”

“We’re innocent, Your Highnesses. We already stood outside for several minutes.”

“Then it must be that you’re just not clean. Look at Lin Xiangqi—every time you guys come back from playing ball, he’s the only one who still looks fresh.”

As they bickered, someone suddenly noticed, “Huh? Lin Xiangqi didn’t come back with the rest of us, did he?”

Almost the moment that was said, Lu Cong stood up from his seat.

No one noticed when he left the classroom. It wasn’t until the first period started and the teacher saw that two seats were empty that they realized both Lu Cong and Lin Xiangqi were gone.

The equipment room was dim and murky. The window was blocked by a vertically stored mat, with only a sliver of sunlight slipping through a gap.

Lin Xiangqi hugged his arms, curled up in a messy corner cluttered with gear, his body alternating between hot and cold, temperature fluctuating wildly, trembling uncontrollably.

The blocking patch on his gland had already failed. Another Alpha’s pheromones had seeped in, clashing with Lu Cong’s mark inside his body—two invisible forces colliding painfully, almost making him lose consciousness.

That lunatic Shen Qiaolan—why had he released such an aggressive amount of pheromones toward a “Beta”?

Though Lin Xiangqi was actually an Omega, to Shen Qiaolan, he was a Beta.

Didn’t Shen Qiaolan know that Betas couldn’t metabolize pheromones and would suffer damage from prolonged exposure?

“…Ugh!” Another wave of pain hit, accompanied by the burning heat of his gland.

Lin Xiangqi feared that just as he was recovering, Shen Qiaolan might trigger another illness.

Clutching his neck, he gritted his teeth and forced himself not to cry out.

When he’d first sensed something wrong with his gland, he had immediately locked himself in the equipment room.

At first, he’d just wanted to lie low for a bit before slipping back out—but more than ten minutes had passed, and the situation was getting worse.

Several people had come by, knocking on the door to return equipment. Lin Xiangqi didn’t answer. After a round of knocking and cursing, they left.

He guessed they were going to get a teacher to unlock the door.

Lin Xiangqi didn’t know how much longer he could hide.

He hadn’t brought his phone. If he went out now, he’d definitely be taken to the infirmary—and the truth that he was an Omega would be exposed.

Then Shen Qiaolan would know too.

Shen Qiaolan was already clinging to him when he still thought Lin Xiangqi was a Beta. It was terrifying to imagine what he might do if he found out the truth.

Lin Xiangqi was a mess, his mind a slurry of confusion.

He deeply regretted coming down here alone today. He should’ve brought Lu Cong like usual.

If Lu Cong were here, he wouldn’t be stuck hiding alone.

Just then, the equipment room door was knocked again.

Lin Xiangqi tensed up, his breathing tight.

Should he wait to be discovered, or expose himself? A choice between bad and worse.

What to do, what to do…

“It’s me.”

The moment that voice rang out, Lin Xiangqi felt as if the entire room had lit up.

It was Lu Cong.

“Are you in there? Are you okay?” Lu Cong called. “If you can hear me, knock something nearby.”

Lin Xiangqi’s nose tingled. He opened his mouth to respond, but his voice was barely audible. He could only struggle to raise a hand and push a nearby ping pong ball off the shelf.

The small ball fell and bounced several times on the floor.

Lu Cong, now sure he was inside, said, “Wait for me.”

The door to the equipment room was a heavy iron one. Without a key, there was no way to open it.

Lin Xiangqi didn’t know what Lu Cong planned to do.

He tried to crawl toward the door to open it, but it was nearly impossible.

His consciousness was growing dim, and his body was almost paralyzed.

Thirty seconds later, Lu Cong appeared at the blocked window. Lin Xiangqi didn’t know how he managed to break the old, deteriorating glass and push aside the piled-up equipment.

But somehow, he reached his side.

The moment Lu Cong embraced him, Lin Xiangqi felt like he’d come back to life.

He opened his mouth, breathing deeply. The pain in his gland finally began to subside after a few minutes.

It was then he realized Lu Cong had removed his blocking patch and was releasing pheromones to soothe him.

He didn’t have much strength left. Resting against Lu Cong’s arms, he looked up, his eyelashes trembling—so fragile, it made Lu Cong’s heart ache.

“It’s okay now. It’s okay,” Lu Cong murmured, holding the Omega tightly in his arms, releasing a steady stream of pheromones without hesitation.

But he quickly realized that Lin Xiangqi couldn’t absorb them properly.

Most of the pheromones he released—probably 99%—weren’t being taken in by Lin Xiangqi’s gland.

“Yanyan, try to resonate with my pheromones using your gland,” Lu Cong coached. “Just like breathing—learn to control your gland.”

Lin Xiangqi obeyed, but his gland didn’t respond. His eyes were red as he looked at Lu Cong, pitifully: “I… can’t…”

His voice was hoarse, barely human.

Lu Cong’s expression remained calm, but the veins on his arms bulged as he held Lin Xiangqi.

“Lu Cong…” Lin Xiangqi called out weakly, voice filled with pleading. “It hurts so much… Am I… sick again?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not your body. It’s someone else,” Lu Cong said gently, wiping sweat from his forehead, though his voice turned cold, “trying to override your mark.”

Overriding a mark usually meant one Alpha forcibly trying to replace another’s pheromone imprint on an Omega.

But Shen Qiaolan didn’t know Lin Xiangqi was an Omega, nor that he had Lu Cong’s mark.

The only reason he’d released pheromones at Lin Xiangqi was out of desire to possess.

Since he believed Lin Xiangqi was a Beta—and Betas couldn’t be temporarily marked—overriding a mark became the only way to saturate him with pheromones.

But such a method was brutal, regardless of gender.

Because it always caused pain.

Even for an Omega like Lin Xiangqi.

“You need my pheromones right now,” Lu Cong told him gently, stroking his cheek. “But we can’t mark you here at school.”

Lin Xiangqi, though dazed, understood exactly what that meant.

They had no inhibitors on hand. If Lu Cong performed a temporary mark here, there was no telling how long he’d lose control. And who knew when someone might open the equipment room door?

But if they didn’t mark… what else could they do?

Lin Xiangqi stared at him blankly, blinking.

“Dr. Tang taught you the three fastest ways to absorb and fuse pheromones. Do you remember?” Lu Cong asked.

Temporary marking, lifelong marking, and… fluid exchange.

Pheromones could be quickly absorbed through any of those three methods.

Lin Xiangqi opened his mouth, not knowing what to say.

If he couldn’t receive Lu Cong’s pheromones soon, his newly developing gland—just beginning its second differentiation—might be forced to regress.

So this was practically their only option.

But Lin Xiangqi’s brain went numb. For a moment, he couldn’t even recall how fluid exchange worked. All he could do was stare at Lu Cong in confusion. “How… how do we do it?”

Lu Cong’s finger lightly stroked the corner of his lips, a hint and a signal, as he asked, “Like this—okay?”

Yes.

He didn’t have a choice.

But he didn’t dare look into Lu Cong’s eyes and nod—because it felt like something inside him might shatter.

Lin Xiangqi shut his eyes tightly and said, “…Okay.”

The moment he answered, he felt a little regret.

Amid the confusion, he thought: Did I say it too quickly? Even if it’s for treatment, shouldn’t I have hesitated a little? This is my first kiss—shouldn’t a first kiss be more reserved?

How could I just say ‘okay’?

I should’ve at least said ‘ah’ first, and then ‘okay.’

But what Lin Xiangqi hadn’t expected—was that someone moved even faster than his reply.

Even before the trailing sound of his “mm” had faded, Lu Cong lowered his head and kissed him.

So quick, it was as if he had rehearsed it a thousand times over.

Lin Xiangqi couldn’t quite describe how it felt—lips pressed against lips, it was like sinking into a bubble: soft, fuzzy, and a little dizzying.

Very quickly, his lips were pried open. Lu Cong’s kiss was nothing like his usual demeanor—not gentle, not gentlemanly. He invaded fiercely, devouring Lin Xiangqi’s hesitant passivity, sucking on his shrinking soft tongue, kissing him until every inch of his body tingled.

The moment their saliva mixed, the pheromones were immediately absorbed.

As the pain in his gland subsided, the sensory impact of the kiss only intensified.

The sound of Lin Xiangqi’s pounding heartbeat echoed in the empty equipment room, making his face flush red with embarrassment.

Lu Cong drew back slightly and asked against his lips, “Are you okay?”

Lin Xiangqi seized the brief moment to gasp for breath, and with a voice tinged with tears said, “Softer, please? Y-you’re sucking my tongue too hard, it hurts…”

“Okay.” Lu Cong was the kind of person who corrected his mistakes as soon as they were pointed out.

Given Lin Xiangqi’s feedback, he immediately adjusted and applied the change.

Lin Xiangqi had already absorbed quite a bit of pheromone and wanted to stop, leaning his head back slightly. But Lu Cong followed him tightly, biting down on his lower lip and forcing his tongue back inside once again.

Just as Lin Xiangqi was about to faint from the intensity of the kiss, someone knocked on the equipment room door.

Bang bang bang.

Each knock made Lin Xiangqi’s heart jump violently.

“Mmph!” Panicking and frightened, he reached out and hit Lu Cong’s chest.

But Lu Cong stayed calm and continued kissing him. The sticky, wet sounds of the kiss mixed with the knocking, fraying Lin Xiangqi’s nerves even more.

“Is someone in there?”

“Hey, who locked the door? We haven’t returned the gear yet!”

“Hey, say something!”

Lin Xiangqi felt like Lu Cong was about to eat him alive—starting with his tongue, which was being nibbled and sucked on relentlessly. Although it was a little gentler than before, it was still overwhelming.

The voices outside grew more impatient, and Lin Xiangqi was about to cry. His fingers gripped Lu Cong’s hair, trying to pull him away. But Lu Cong acted as if he didn’t notice, pressing him into the corner and kissing him even deeper.

No one knew how long it went on, but eventually, the people outside gave up and walked away in frustration.

Catching his breath, Lin Xiangqi sobbed softly, voice trembling as he begged, “Don’t… don’t kiss me anymore…”

Finally, Lu Cong responded, drawing his tongue out of Lin Xiangqi’s mouth with a thin silver thread trailing behind. But he still held him tightly, their foreheads pressed together.

“Yanyan, earlier you asked me why I was in a bad mood today,” Lu Cong suddenly brought up the earlier conversation.

“Mm…” Lin Xiangqi hadn’t fully recovered from the kiss that almost devoured him. Hearing Lu Cong talk felt like a distant echo across mountains and seas—vague and surreal.

“It’s because every moment I’m next to you, I want to kiss you like this. I want to mark you. I want to leave all sorts of terrifying traces on you.”

As he spoke, Lu Cong leaned in and kissed him again. “I’m going crazy holding back.”