Zhou Yi felt incredibly embarrassed. He had previously mentioned at the hospital that the doctor was nagging, not expecting that the very person he had been referring to was Liang Xianzhang’s younger brother.

“Maybe it’s an occupational hazard,” Liang Xianzhang said with a smile, noticing the discomfort on Zhou Yi’s face. “Shao Wen can be a bit long-winded, but he’s still very good at his job.”

Zhou Yi nodded awkwardly, unsure why Liang Xianzhang had suddenly brought up something from that day.

Seeming to read his thoughts, Liang Xianzhang continued, “Shao Wen said that, based on everything that’s happened between us, there’s a high possibility that we’re destined to be together.”

Zhou Yi was stunned. He had learned about this concept in passing while studying Omega-related knowledge, but at the time, he dismissed it as absurd. Now, hearing Liang Xianzhang speak so seriously, Zhou Yi realized that this world was stranger than he had ever imagined.

Liang Xianzhang paused before adding, “I also went for a check-up that day. I suffer from congenital glandular atrophy and am an inferior Alpha. I can’t smell or release pheromones, so I need to go to the hospital regularly for follow-up exams and medication. But when I met you that day…”

Before Liang Xianzhang could finish, Zhou Yi suddenly understood where this was heading and blurted out, “You can smell my pheromones, right?”

“Not only that,” Liang Xianzhang said, his voice low. “The more we come into contact, especially after each time, I gradually release my own pheromones under the influence of yours.”

Zhou Yi’s mind began to clear. The pieces fell into place. It wasn’t just his physical condition that made Liang Xianzhang so attentive; it was his pheromones—his body and its scent, helping to alleviate Liang Xianzhang’s illness. No wonder Liang Xianzhang had been so kind to him.

Zhou Yi bit his lip, a bitter realization washing over him. I shouldn’t have had any unreasonable expectations from anyone. He had long been used to being treated as a tool or object, but this time, he felt discomfort in his heart, as if something was pressing on him, blocking his emotions.

But it was pointless to dwell on these feelings. Zhou Yi took a deep breath, pushing down the strange emotions. Looking directly at Liang Xianzhang, he asked, “Mr. Liang, so, you seem to need my help now, right? It just so happens that I also need your help, and I have things I need to keep hidden, so why don’t we cooperate with each other?”

Liang Xianzhang immediately noticed something was wrong with Zhou Yi. Before he could respond, Zhou Yi spoke again, mentioning their cooperation.

Zhou Yi’s words felt off, and Liang Xianzhang stared at him, trying to understand his train of thought. He could tell Zhou Yi was confused, and in that instant, he realized his own words had caused a misunderstanding. Looking at him seriously, he asked bluntly, “Zhou Yi, what are you thinking? Do you think I made love with you and said I liked you just to use you to better manage my illness?”

“Yes,” Zhou Yi responded without hesitation, meeting his gaze. “I think that your feelings for me are just an illusion caused by pheromones and desire. It doesn’t mean you truly like me. One day, you’ll feel this way about someone else.”

Liang Xianzhang’s expression hardened, but he kept his tone even as he let go of Zhou Yi’s hand and gently traced his fingers over his face.

Despite the gentleness of his touch, the intensity of the pheromones that surrounded them sent a dangerous energy through Zhou Yi. His body grew weak, and his throat tightened. “I don’t know,” he said, struggling to speak. “Besides the physical relationship, I don’t know anything about you…”

Before Zhou Yi could finish, Liang Xianzhang leaned in and kissed him—his lips pressing firmly against Zhou Yi’s, not harsh, but insistent. The sharp scent of orange blossom filled Zhou Yi’s senses, making his mind spin.

A tremor ran through him, and Zhou Yi couldn’t help but recall the moments of passion they’d shared earlier. His body, starved for pheromones, grew dizzy, and he found himself gripping Liang Xianzhang’s pajamas, tilting his head…

But just as he gave in to the craving, Liang Xianzhang stopped, pulling back and looking at him with satisfaction. Zhou Yi, now aware of what he had done, flushed deeply, embarrassed by how easily he had been led. He tried to pull away, but Liang Xianzhang held him firmly.

Zhou Yi lowered his head, not daring to look Liang Xianzhang in the eye.

With a soft sigh, Liang Xianzhang reached up and pinched Zhou Yi’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. His breath was warm against Zhou Yi’s ear as he spoke with a slight smile, “It doesn’t matter if you don’t believe I like you. Just think of me as a one-sided pursuer. You just need to keep me by your side, open your eyes, and understand clearly who I am, how much I like you, and how I will treat you.”