Lance deliberately let the rain soak him through.
First, it would lower his body temperature. Second, looking miserable would keep anyone from noticing something was wrong.
He arrived at the freshman dormitory dripping wet. His T-shirt was wrinkled, his trouser legs clung to his calves, and water fell from his lashes.
His face was abnormally flushed, his breathing uneven, his body trembling slightly. It looked as though the night rain had soaked into his very skin and he was on the verge of falling ill with a fever.
Lance was exceptionally good at disguise and particularly fond of pretending to be weak, but at this moment there was no pretending involved. Pheromone disorder was genuinely tormenting him.
The dormitory building was the most remote structure on the Xingzhou University campus. On the other side of one wall lay Capital City’s famous Giant Lizard Park. The building rose more than ten stories, with its top floor often shrouded in thin mist.
The entire structure was cylindrical, soaring straight upward. Its central circular atrium measured nearly five hundred meters across, with a broad sloping lawn looping around the middle where students could train and relax in their free time.
The dorm manager lifted her eyelids and looked Lance up and down with muddy yellow eyes. After a long moment, she paused the drama playing on her computer and complained unhappily, “Why are you checking in this late?”
She completely ignored the ribbon hiding Lance’s neck, the bloodstains on his T-shirt, and his wildly disordered pheromones.
Lance raised the back of his hand to his mouth and coughed several times in discomfort. Then he lowered his gaze and nervously rubbed his palm as though carrying some unspeakable shame, tightening the ribbon around his neck in a futile attempt to hide it.
The manager’s gaze fixed on his long, fragile neck. A thin ribbon could never conceal the scent of pheromones. The sweet fragrance of star magnolia quickly filled the tiny office.
At this age, pheromones had the pure astringency of petals just opening. They possessed no aggression at all, yet carried a faint, unconscious temptation.
A student at Xingzhou University, star-magnolia pheromones, delicate and easily bullied—he had collected the full set of red flags.
The manager’s eyes filled with disgust. Looking like this, who knew which Alpha he had been fooling around with?
“Only one room left. This year really is something. Teacher Ediv is too soft-hearted—didn’t manage to empty even one room. Here, 304.” She threw the key at Lance and lowered her eyes back to the drama.
She was afraid Lance might not understand the rules and start telling her nonsense about refusing to share a room with an Alpha or having just been taken advantage of.
What a joke. Xingzhou University was not a kindergarten. Anyone who came here to study should understand that the university only provided instruction. Students were responsible for their own safety.
As long as they did not damage public property or harm the school’s reputation, administrators would turn a blind eye.
Separating Alpha and Omega dormitories was the kind of thing that only created more work. At Xingzhou University, it simply did not exist.
Every year, therefore, some students became accidentally pregnant and suspended their studies midway, while irritable Omegas “accidentally” crushed an Alpha’s balls and sent him for emergency treatment.
Naturally, they were all officially recorded as leaving because they were “unable to continue their studies.”
Lance, however, did not ask his roommate’s sex or awakening rank. He displayed the innocent ignorance expected of a freshman, as though such implications had never occurred to him. Clutching the key, eyes lowered, he dragged his dripping clothes toward the elevator, trembling weakly and leaving a bright trail of water across the marble floor.
Behind him, the manager muttered viciously, “Ptui. Little seducer. Letting your pheromones out everywhere to entice people, then pretending you’re wronged.”
At the words “pretending you’re wronged,” Lance turned his back to the surveillance camera, lowered the brim of his cap, and forced a smile despite the pain.
What a pity. If Ediv had been half as perceptive as this dorm manager, he would not have thrown his life away so easily.
But Lance soon stopped smiling. The stabilizer he had taken not long ago was losing effect. His awareness began to swim, and his gland burned and stabbed from overuse.
Every time Lance summoned an Outer God, he paid a price. Sometimes he became unable to sleep and endured constant mental pollution. Sometimes his pheromones went into disorder, bringing prolonged fever and unbearable pain that forced him to swallow huge quantities of painkillers like drinking poison to quench thirst. Sometimes both struck together.
The symptoms usually lasted a full month before disappearing completely. Pain seemed to be the only price at which power could be obtained.
But Lance had been used to it since childhood.
By the time he found Room 304, he had nearly reached his limit. He aligned the key with the lock and could clearly feel his fingers trembling.
The tumblers shifted one by one. The bolt blocking the latch slid back.
Lance forced himself to stay alert and reminded himself: once he entered, he needed to find a chance to approach his new roommate and secretly place the morongweng on him. Once the man collapsed with fulminant myocarditis and was carted away, Lance could tell the clown to teleport him home.
High Tower Guild maintained therapeutic recovery pods for its members. At least he could suffer more comfortably there.
The only troublesome part was Guild Master Lan’s heaven-shaking wailing and nagging.
The lock clicked open.
Lance let out a long breath, placed his palm on the door, and pushed. Warm yellow light spilled through the widening gap and lit the water on his lashes.
Warm steam drifted out and washed over his face. Before the gap could widen further, however, a force from inside suddenly yanked the door open.
“Something wrong?”
Caught off guard, Lance stared blankly for a moment.
The man in front of him had obviously just been showering and had not yet dried himself. Water slid down his Adam’s apple. Excellent lines of muscle were laid bare in front of Lance without the slightest cover.
High Tower Guild had plenty of well-built members, but very few with a physique as exceptional as this. The man clearly trained year-round. Hard, powerful V-lines narrowed beneath the towel wrapped around his hips, and even within that small area there was no hiding his aggressively obvious masculine endowment. His long fingers rested casually across his arm, while concentrated male hormones seemed to spill from every taut vein. If he wanted, those hands could easily grip an adult Omega by the waist and lift him off the ground.
Everything in front of him was an enormous trial for an Omega in pheromone disorder.
A drop of cold sweat slid from Lance’s temple. He was glad he had not rashly released the morongweng. With S-rank reflexes, Zhan Pingchuan would definitely have caught him.
Zhan Pingchuan raised a brow. “You.”
He had noticed something unusual before Lance even unlocked the door.
His five senses were extremely sharp. He had clearly detected a faint trace of star magnolia drifting in from the corridor. The pheromones were chaotic and disordered, not the state of normal release. Unless he was mistaken, the person outside was in trouble.
But Zhan Pingchuan had no interest in meddling. He had come to Xingzhou University to kidnap Ediv, not to reform campus discipline.
Yet the moment he saw that the person outside was Lance, he suddenly became a little interested in campus discipline.
Lance had been drenched by the rain. Faded blood stained the collar of his white T-shirt, and a smear of mud remained on the hem of his trousers. A ribbon was wound tightly around his neck, yet it could not stop the pheromones leaking out.
He seemed feverish, his skin unnaturally flushed. Tears produced by pain shimmered in his eyes. Wet hair stuck messily to his cheeks, making him look like a stray kitten unable to find shelter in the night rain.
It would be too abrupt to ask about his embarrassment directly. Without changing expression, Zhan Pingchuan released a small amount of soothing pheromone. A faint bitter gentian fragrance spread through the room and wrapped forcefully around the rampaging star magnolia.
“Want to wash up?” he asked casually.
Omegas suffering pheromone disorder were troublesome. They became extremely irritable and aggressive, eager to bare their claws at anyone who came near, yet while aggressive they were also exceptionally easy to upset. Tears would start falling at the slightest thing, and once they cried, they were impossible to comfort.
Under ordinary circumstances, Zhan Pingchuan would have avoided such an Omega at all costs.
The moment Lance sensed Alpha pheromones, he did indeed become irritable. Gloom darkened his eyes, his canine teeth ground together, and the morongweng raced from his palm to his fingertip.
Courting death, he thought.
But the instant their pheromones touched, Lance’s expression turned incredulous.
He naturally loved sweet flavors and hated bitterness, yet he did not reject Zhan Pingchuan’s pheromones at all. He even found himself craving that intense bitter scent.
A tremor rose from deep in his bones. Lance could not control it; his knees nearly gave way.
“You…” Zhan Pingchuan’s gaze darkened. Naturally, he sensed Lance’s reaction too. An Omega becoming dazed and shivering because of his pheromones was the greatest possible encouragement to an Alpha.
A reaction this strong meant their pheromone compatibility was extraordinarily high.
Lance’s expression changed slightly. He gritted his teeth and steadied himself. Of course he understood now: Zhan Pingchuan had released soothing pheromones, and their effect on him was incredibly powerful.
In that flash of realization, he changed his plan.
His temples were damp and his breathing rushed. Lance lowered his eyes.
“Could you… do me a favor?”
Zhan Pingchuan understood what he meant almost instantly.
What a joke. If the eldest young master of Ghost Eye Guild marked an Omega, the news would explode back home. Besides, was he really that casual a man?
Two seconds later—
Zhan Pingchuan silently and decisively lifted the rain-soaked, mud-stained Omega in front of him, tossed him onto the bed, and without the slightest tenderness pinned his elegant pale hand.
As expected, Lance glared furiously and struggled to break free.
Zhan Pingchuan simply forced his fingers between Lance’s, interlocking their hands and pinning him firmly again. His voice came low with restraint. “Stop moving.”
Soon, richer soothing pheromones rolled over Lance, completely surrounding him. It was like a man dying in the desert falling into a cool, clear oasis. Lance gasped and desperately drew the scent in.
But it was not enough.
Restless in Zhan Pingchuan’s arms, Lance twisted and rubbed his legs hard against the dry bedsheets. He kept arching his waist to press against Zhan Pingchuan’s abdomen, then when the pheromones became too overwhelming, he opened his sharp teeth in grievance and bit down on Zhan Pingchuan’s shoulder.
Zhan Pingchuan sucked in a breath, his gaze darkening as he laughed softly. Then he forced Lance’s legs apart with one knee, making him look up with wet eyes.
“If you don’t behave, I’m not helping you anymore.”
Lance’s eyes were damp. For a moment he seemed unable to understand the threat, but he could at least grasp the irritation in Zhan Pingchuan’s mood.
Suppressing his instincts, he coaxingly rubbed the tip of his nose against Zhan Pingchuan’s prominent Adam’s apple. A bead of water still clung there, too eye-catching to ignore. Without thinking, Lance swept it into his mouth with the tip of his tongue.
Zhan Pingchuan’s lower abdomen tightened and his eyes darkened further.
“Good baby.” Freeing one hand, he stroked Lance’s back in encouragement and bent to kiss the earlobe that had gone red enough to bleed.
Lance tilted his head. The two finely polished turquoise pendants brushed his cheek, grazing the skin beneath his eyes and leaving behind the unrestrained wildness of the Tibetan plateau.
They both knew this was part of the necessary process for soothing pheromone disorder.
But to recover completely, an Alpha still needed to leave pheromones inside the Omega’s body.
Lance struggled to tug at the ribbon around his neck. It was stained with blood, and red streaks smeared onto his fingertips.
Perhaps because he had wound it around too many times, it was difficult to pull free. Frustrated, he even turned his head and tried to line his gland up with Zhan Pingchuan.
He needed a temporary mark to restore his rationality.
Zhan Pingchuan pulled Lance’s fumbling hand away and looked at the small vulnerable organ beneath the ribbon without moving.
An Alpha gave a temporary mark only to his own Omega. Afterward, the Alpha would find it difficult to suppress possessiveness and the urge to control the Omega, even interfering with the Omega’s everyday life.
“…Bite me.” Physiological tears kept rolling down Lance’s face, but he was already prepared. Once Zhan Pingchuan completed the mark, he could act.
In this position, he could secretly place the morongweng on Zhan Pingchuan’s back. By the time Zhan Pingchuan noticed, he would probably already be unconscious and on his way to the hospital.
Lance had never denied that he was ruthless, cold-blooded, and merciless. Without thunderous methods, how could an F-rank like him have taken control of the Black Lantern Society from Guild Master Lan?
“Relax.” Zhan Pingchuan’s voice was hoarse. His palm moved upward along Lance’s spine, heat penetrating the T-shirt and making Lance’s back muscles tremble uncontrollably.
While soothing him, Zhan Pingchuan reached out with two fingers and pinched the edge of the ribbon.
Lance’s hair was long. Zhan Pingchuan used his other hand to brush aside the wet strands, then applied a little force and pulled away a long section of ribbon covering the gland.
Lance closed his eyes and bit down on the blanket.
But Zhan Pingchuan’s expression darkened in an instant. His eyes seemed to hold an impenetrable black fog. For the moment, the urge to kill overwhelmed even the desire driven by pheromones.
“Who did this?”
The scratches on Lance’s neck had turned pale from soaking in rainwater. Torn skin was clearly visible, even across the gland, which looked red and inflamed.
Lance’s lashes trembled, but he gave no answer. He knew the marks on his neck were deeply misleading. Combined with his disordered pheromones and burning body, it was easy to imagine he had been bullied and suppressed by a high-ranking Alpha.
It fit perfectly with the first impression he gave people: gentle and easy to victimize.
Naturally, Lance was not going to admit he had scratched himself. Unfortunately, he did not see Zhan Pingchuan’s eyes at that moment. If he had, he might have suspected the man’s outward laziness and irreverence were also a disguise.
Sensing Lance’s reluctance to speak, Zhan Pingchuan steadied himself and painfully pushed down his possessiveness.
He wasn’t even his Omega. Where had this inexplicable jealousy come from?
At last he completely removed the ribbon, exposing the faintly red gland. Under the warm yellow light, the skin there was delicate and smooth, slightly raised and radiating sweet heat—enough to make anyone’s mouth go dry.
Lance knew what would happen next.
Even as someone normally calm and highly tolerant of pain, he could not stop himself from shrinking away.
He did not care much about propriety or shame, but since differentiating, this truly was the first time anyone had touched his gland.
Pheromone disorder made a person feel aggrieved. Being marked made it worse.
He had heard that marking required an Alpha to bite through the skin of the gland and forcibly inject pheromones. During the process an Omega might struggle violently, bleed, and suffer intense pain, but the Alpha would hold him down and refuse to let him escape until the mark was complete.
Lance could control his expression, but not his body’s reactions. Every muscle tightened, sweat ran down his temples, and even his breathing stopped.
He did not want to admit it, but he was afraid. He could endure any degree of physical pain. He could endure the fear and mental pollution the Outer God had brought him since childhood. But he feared unfamiliar pheromones invading his body. It made him feel profoundly unsafe.
Lance clenched his teeth. Cold sweat slid across his eyelids into his eyes, and tears soaked a small patch of bedding.
The ribbon was tossed onto the floor with barely a sound. Lance’s nerves jolted.
He told himself: only once, it’ll be over quickly—
“Good. Don’t be afraid. We won’t mark you.” A low, soothing voice sounded beside his ear.
There was no pain of teeth breaking the gland’s skin. No terror of being invaded. Zhan Pingchuan’s warm, dry palm covered the area instead, caressing it gently.
Then Lance’s chin was lifted and, before he could refuse, his mouth was sealed in a kiss. Powerful S-rank pheromones traveled along their joined lips and teeth and were fed onto the tip of his tongue.
Lance froze. The fingers suspended in midair abruptly curled, drawing the morongweng back into his palm.