MVCFO CH63

When a person got embarrassed, they really were capable of doing anything.

To avoid letting Lu Cong notice his smart terminal, Lin Xiangqi had, in a matter of seconds, flailed his arms, shook his head, danced around—he was practically one step away from breaking into a full-on breakdance right in front of Lu Cong.

Lu Cong stared at him expressionlessly for a moment, then suddenly reached out, pressed a hand to his head, and asked,
“What are you twisting around for? Itchy or something?”

Lin Xiangqi: “…”

Why didn’t the grown-up Lu Cong know how to spare someone’s dignity at all?

Thinking quickly, Lin Xiangqi gave a sweet smile and said,
“You’re back, I’m happy—I was twirling to welcome you!”

But even as he said it, he felt guilty. He immediately straightened up, placed both hands behind his back, and tried to hide the look in his eyes that said, “I did something bad, but I’m absolutely not going to tell you about it.”

Lu Cong raised an eyebrow and chuckled,
“A very unique welcome ceremony.”

He reached out to gently wipe away a tiny bead of cold sweat forming at Lin Xiangqi’s temple, and added,
“Don’t welcome me like that next time.”

Lin Xiangqi gave a dry laugh, silently grateful that Lu Cong didn’t ask what he’d just been doing alone.

So he quickly changed the subject and asked,
“Didn’t you say you had something important today and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow at the earliest? Why did you come back so much earlier?”

Lu Cong didn’t go into much detail. He just said the matter had been taken care of, one of the meetings had been pushed to tomorrow, and since there was nothing else to do, he came home.

Lin Xiangqi knew that “important matter” was a confidential Alliance issue, so he didn’t dare press for details. But he still found it odd: it was already dark, and there was still a meeting tomorrow. If that was the case, why not just stay in the capital and rest? From what he knew, flying back and forth wasn’t exactly easy for Lu Cong.

However, before he could ask more, Lu Cong interrupted his thoughts with another question.

“Whose shirt is that?” Lu Cong reached over and tugged at the collar of Lin Xiangqi’s shirt.

The black dress shirt made Lin Xiangqi’s already porcelain-white skin appear to glow. Lu Cong’s Adam’s apple moved slightly as he gazed at him intently.

“…Shirt?”
Lin Xiangqi looked down and finally realized—he was wearing Lu Cong’s shirt.

Wait. Damn it.

He was still wearing Lu Cong’s shirt!

Yes, he had chosen to wear it himself, but he hadn’t expected Lu Cong to come back this early today.

He had simply missed Lu Cong so much that he felt uneasy, and wanted to catch a whiff of his pheromones.

But Lu Cong changed clothes frequently, and the household robot washed them thoroughly. Every piece in the wardrobe was clean, scentless—as if brand new, with not a trace of pheromone left.

Lin Xiangqi had even checked all of Lu Cong’s personal items, but they were the same: squeaky clean, like they’d never been used.

Lu Cong was extremely cautious in this regard, never allowing his pheromones to linger anywhere for long.

This was because, long ago, a lower-ranked Alpha officer had once inhaled some of Lu Cong’s S+-grade pheromones while helping him search for documents in his office, which led to an immediate glandular shock.

While Lu Cong wasn’t exactly gentle with his subordinates, he didn’t want anyone to suffer unnecessarily because of him. Since then, he’d been very careful.

There was no trace of Lu Cong’s scent anywhere at home—and this made Lin Xiangqi deeply uneasy.

Except for this shirt.

It was the one Lu Cong had been wearing earlier today when he gave Lin Xiangqi a temporary mark. Because it had absorbed some pheromones, Lu Cong had changed out of it and tossed it to the robot before leaving.

Lin Xiangqi had intercepted it halfway, hugged it to his chest and sniffed—it was clean, but still carried that delicious pheromone scent. So he kept it.

But hugging it and sniffing constantly felt a little too weird. So, for convenience’s sake, he’d just put it on.

Now—seriously—did Lu Cong really need to ask whose shirt it was?

He was clearly doing it on purpose—trying to make Lin Xiangqi explain why he was secretly wearing his clothes.

If this question had come at literally any other time before today, Lin Xiangqi would’ve proudly and confidently replied:
“Yours, obviously. What, you’re not gonna let me wear your clothes?”

He’d even slept in Lu Cong’s bed before—what was a shirt compared to that?

But now, Lin Xiangqi was no longer the same person he had been five minutes ago.

Just a little while ago, he’d used his smart terminal to search through a pile of information—detailed, complex, full of charts and guides—about permanent mating marks between Alphas and Omegas.

Those words still swirled through his brain like a carousel.

People grew up without even realizing it.

Lin Xiangqi was the same. TVT

He was no longer that Beta who could talk casually about “marking” and “pheromones” without a care in the world.

He was now a mature Omega—one who knew exactly what a lifelong mating mark meant.

In the world of AOs, expressing a desire for someone’s pheromones was tantamount to a courtship—it was no small thing.

How could he just openly say: “I wanted your pheromones, so I wore your shirt.”

Growing up always came with a price.

Lin Xiangqi deeply regretted ever learning about these things.

He still remembered someone saying that because his glandular illness had dragged on for too long, he was already on the edge of a full breakdown. Temporary marking could only serve as a stopgap.

Only a permanent bond mark could fully cure his condition.

The reason they hadn’t done it yet was because his physical development was delayed compared to his peers—he wasn’t ready to receive a lifelong mark. He needed to be exposed to Lu Cong’s pheromones through repeated temporary markings to give him time to adjust and transition.

At the time, all Lin Xiangqi could think was:
Awesome! I don’t have to be marked yet! What a relief!

He just wanted to get better as soon as possible, so he innocently asked,
“Why can’t we just do the permanent mark earlier?”

Lu Cong’s reaction had been complicated. His voice had tightened when he replied:
“You’re still young.”

And how did Lin Xiangqi respond?

He probably said something like:
“I’m not a kid anymore. I’ve been an adult for a long time—stop treating me like one, will you?”

No wonder Lu Cong had reacted so strangely at the time.

Now, Lin Xiangqi just wanted to find a hole to crawl into and die.

When Lu Cong saw Lin Xiangqi’s eyes dart around a few times, he knew he was overthinking things again.

And right at that moment, he asked again:
“Yan Yan, whose shirt are you wearing?”

Lin Xiangqi didn’t want to answer. He bit his lip and decided to use the thirty-sixth strategy: Run.

But as soon as he turned, Lu Cong moved fast as lightning and pulled him into his arms.

Those hands—usually gripping guns and blades—slipped under the loose hem of the shirt, calloused palms brushing across the soft skin of Lin Xiangqi’s stomach in a punishing squeeze.

Lin Xiangqi shivered violently.
“Ugh—stop, don’t…”

“Whose is it, hmm?”
Lu Cong’s voice came from right behind his ear, soft and low like a feather brushing against his skin.

Lin Xiangqi braced himself and mumbled,
“…Yours. It’s yours, okay?”

“Oh.”
Lu Cong repeated it slowly, savoring the words:
“Mine.”

It was such a small thing, really—but because Lin Xiangqi felt guilty, he thought Lu Cong was deliberately teasing him by repeating it like that.

So he went on the offense.

“Yeah, and so what if I wore your shirt? This style looks good, and it’s roomy—I think it’s perfect for pajamas, so I wore it. And not just that—I’m claiming it. From today on, this shirt is mine.”

“Okay.”
Lu Cong didn’t seem intent on arguing with him over something so minor. His hand, still hidden under the fabric, continued to roam across Lin Xiangqi’s soft skin. He spoke each word slowly, with a smile:
“It’s yours now.”

Lin Xiangqi: “…”
Something felt… off.

They were talking about a shirt, but why did it feel like Lu Cong meant something else entirely?

But seriously—it was just a shirt. Lu Cong wouldn’t be so petty about it.

Lin Xiangqi had already thrown away his dignity. At this point, he might as well go all in. He grabbed the hand that was still wandering under his shirt and said,
“You gave me the shirt, so what are you still holding onto me for? Stingy. Let me go.”

Lu Cong went quiet for a moment and did pull his hand out from under the shirt.

But he didn’t let go of Lin Xiangqi. Instead, he lifted him straight up and sat down with him on the sofa.

Lin Xiangqi was a little confused.
This position… it looked like they were planning to stay in the living room for a while.

So he asked,
“What are you doing?”

Lu Cong wrapped his arms tightly around him and said,
“You’re clearly becoming dependent on pheromones now. That means your glands are developing faster than we thought.”

Hearing that it was a serious topic, Lin Xiangqi let out a small sigh of relief and followed up:
“I do seem more sensitive to pheromones than before. Does that mean I’m getting better?”

“Mhm.”
Lu Cong rested one hand on Lin Xiangqi’s narrow, soft waist, while the other hand lifted to activate his smart terminal.
“I think we can prepare to begin the next phase of treatment.”

Lin Xiangqi was still puzzling over what “the next phase” meant, when Lu Cong—speaking in the most casual tone—said:

“You seem like you still don’t know what a lifelong mark is. Since we have some time—”

He paused deliberately here. And just as Lin Xiangqi’s whole body tensed in sudden realization, Lu Cong slowly added,
“—I’ll teach you.”

Lu Cong played an educational AO physiology video for Lin Xiangqi—a youth-safe, school-approved version.

Lin Xiangqi’s emotions were on a rollercoaster.

The video was basic but thorough. It covered the development of AO sexual characteristics, the purpose and methods of marking, and included detailed explanations of lifelong bonding—all illustrated with colorful diagrams.

The entire thing was professional and easy to understand.
There was no vulgarity or inappropriate content at all.

It was clearly the kind of video designed for schools—for Omegas aged twelve to fourteen, learning about their bodies for the first time.

Lin Xiangqi didn’t have the heart to tell Lu Cong that he’d already snuck a look earlier at… some much spicier content.

At first, he’d been proud of that—thinking that since he’d already “previewed” things, he wouldn’t be caught off guard in front of Lu Cong.

But for some reason, even this wholesome, child-friendly version made his face burn.

Lin Xiangqi’s gaze started to drift. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at the cartoon diagram of a gland.

It wasn’t that he was overly shy—it was just that Lu Cong was holding him. The two of them were sitting way too close.

Lu Cong’s breath brushed his ear. Every time he felt that warm breath against his skin, Lin Xiangqi felt like those cold, clinical images and facts on the screen were suddenly transformed into lit matches—ready to ignite his burning blood.

The projection included diagrams, text… and voice-over narration—

“Typically, between the ages of twelve to fourteen, an Omega’s glands begin to mature, entering a developmental phase known as the ‘differentiation cycle.’
Most Omegas will experience their first heat within one to six months after this phase.”

Lu Cong noticed Lin Xiangqi was zoning out and suddenly said softly into his ear,
“Yan Yan, pay attention.”

“O-okay!”
Lin Xiangqi jolted and sat up straight, staring intently at the projection.

“After differentiation, exposure to a highly compatible Alpha’s pheromones may trigger early heat in many Omegas…
Please note: The Alliance strictly prohibits pheromone-related crimes involving minors.
It is absolutely forbidden for any Alpha to mark an Omega under the age of fourteen under any circumstance.
If such an incident occurs, please call the Omega Protection Hotline at XXXX-XX.”

The narration ended here, and the screen went dark.

Lin Xiangqi exhaled sharply in relief.

Finally. It was over.

This physiology lesson felt like a form of torture—he could barely take another minute of it.

But just then, the projection changed from static diagrams to animation.

Though the animation was simple—essentially just a series of still images played in sequence—it was enough.

And when it reached the part showing the Alpha entering the Omega’s body during lifelong marking…

Lin Xiangqi internally screamed.

The health education classes ten years in the future were way too thorough—why was there an animated demonstration of the lifelong bond process?!

He could no longer pretend to stay calm. He clamped both hands over his eyes, curled up in Lu Cong’s arms, and all the skin showing on his body flushed bright red.

He stammered, voice small,
“Can we—can we turn it off? I don’t want to watch anymore…”

It wasn’t just about being embarrassed.

If they were really just friends, watching this stuff together wouldn’t have been a big deal. Lin Xiangqi could’ve easily handled it better than Lu Cong.

In fact, if this were eighteen-year-old Lu Cong, he might have been the one blushing while Lin Xiangqi remained unbothered. Maybe he’d even tease him with something like:
“So you’re going to knot like that? Won’t it get stuck? Alpha bodies are surprisingly flexible, huh?”

But words like that… Lin Xiangqi absolutely couldn’t say them anymore.

Because this wasn’t just a joke.

He was really going to form a lifelong bond with Lu Cong.

“Why not watch?” Lu Cong asked him, in the gentlest voice. “Did you already learn everything?”

Lin Xiangqi’s face was burning, his skin tinged with an unnatural pink.
“…I just—does it really have to be done that way? Is there… is there no other method?”

He honestly couldn’t imagine the day when he’d be doing that with Lu Cong.

If there were another option—anything else—even surgery, he’d take it.

To his surprise, Lu Cong actually said:
“There is.”

Lin Xiangqi was completely stunned.
“Really? There’s another way? Tell me—quickly!”

Lu Cong, very calmly and without any urgency, adjusted the projection settings.

Soon, every wall in the living room lit up with high-resolution images.

Each screen displayed a magnified illustration of various positions used during lifelong marking.

“Here,” Lu Cong said, holding Lin Xiangqi’s chin to make him look, “Pick the one you like best.”