On the other side, Shang Yichen frowned as he sent a message to Zhou Yi but didn’t receive an immediate reply. Despite the time difference with China, whenever he messaged Zhou Yi before, it felt like the Omega was always waiting by his phone, responding in less than a second.

This time was different. He hadn’t received a reply at all, and what was even stranger was that the only messages from Zhou Yi were brief reminders to be safe before and after his flight, nothing else.

In the past, Zhou Yi’s messages during business trips were much more detailed, often asking him to dress warmly and reminding him to eat on time, since he tended to forget when caught up in work. Even if Zhou Yi didn’t receive a reply, he would always send his reminders again, not tiring of it.

But now, it had been days since Shang Yichen arrived on his business trip, and the conversation between them had stalled. He hadn’t heard anything from Zhou Yi beyond the initial safety reminders. Not even a simple greeting. It was as though Zhou Yi had grown distant.

Shang Yichen took out his phone and began scrolling through their chat history. Zhou Yi had responded to every message, always polite and caring, reminding him to rest, but now his replies felt different—lacking emotion. They were concise, efficient, almost official. There were no interjections, no emojis, nothing personal. It was as if Zhou Yi was only responding to fulfill an obligation.

This shift made Shang Yichen uneasy. He had always found Zhou Yi’s constant reminders a little bothersome, often ignoring them, but now that they were missing, he felt something was off. Zhou Yi was supposed to be his “substitute,” someone he “bought” with money, someone bound by a contractual relationship to obey him. But now, Zhou Yi’s behavior was leaving him dissatisfied.

“What’s wrong? Xiaochen, you look troubled. Is your work not going well?” Gu Shuning’s voice broke through his thoughts as he set a freshly brewed cup of coffee in front of Shang Yichen.

“It’s fine,” Shang Yichen replied with a smile, glancing up at Gu Shuning. “I’m just a little distracted.”

“Rare for you to take time off from work to come visit. Put your work aside and rest a little,” Gu Shuning suggested, his smile widening as he leaned in slightly.

“Okay…” Shang Yichen nodded, deciding to put Zhou Yi’s behavior behind him. For now, Gu Shuning, the person in front of him, was more important.

He casually turned off his phone screen and set it aside, focusing on his conversation with Gu Shuning.

Gu Shuning, noticing the phone resting on the table, smiled knowingly and continued their chat.

Meanwhile, Zhou Yi slowly woke up, his eyelids heavy. Though he wanted to sleep a little longer, the flickering light in front of his eyes made it impossible. He forced himself to open his eyes and sit up, immediately feeling the soreness and pain in his body, which fully woke him up.

Looking around, he realized he was in an unfamiliar room. Fragments of last night came back to him, and for a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was. Then it clicked: I didn’t expect the Alpha who helped me through my Q period would actually take me home. He had assumed they would end up in a hotel or something. After all, they had only met twice, exchanged no more than ten sentences, and were far from acquaintances.

Yet, the doctor’s advice had been effective. Though his body was sore, Zhou Yi noticed that the operation had done more for him than any inhibitor. His pheromones had stabilized, his fever had disappeared, and the aching in his glands was gone.

Despite this, Zhou Yi didn’t want to overstay his welcome. After a one-night stand, he felt it was best to leave quickly. This was someone else’s home, and he should respect that by leaving soon.

But as he tried to get up, the pain in his muscles made him fall back onto the bed. His thighs and waist screamed in protest, a painful reminder of the “excessive exercise” he had endured the night before.

Zhou Yi groaned quietly, realizing that while his Q period had been resolved, the side effects of the operation were unexpectedly severe. It took him a while to finally get up, and even then, his legs wobbled beneath him.

With a sigh, Zhou Yi admitted to himself, The Alpha who helped me through it was quite skilled.

He clearly remembered the Alpha’s touch—gentle, considerate, never rough. He held Zhou Yi firmly but never too harshly, checking on him constantly whenever he seemed uncomfortable, pausing to make sure everything was fine before continuing.

Zhou Yi recalled the sensation of being cradled in his arms, the experience unexpectedly pleasant despite the circumstances. He hadn’t expected to feel this way.

As he looked over at the folded clothes on the bedside table, Zhou Yi noticed that they were his clothes from last night. They had been cleaned and smelled fresh, a small but thoughtful gesture from the Alpha.

I’ll give him credit for that, Zhou Yi thought, smiling inwardly. He picked up his clothes and made his way into the bathroom.

Inside, a large floor-to-ceiling mirror allowed him to see the marks all over his body—clear signs of how intense things had gotten. His neck was covered in kiss marks, and the soreness in his waist made him wince as he remembered the pain.

Zhou Yi stared at his reflection for a long time, muttering under his breath, “What is this? Did I have sex with that dog yesterday?”

No wonder he felt sore all over. With all the marks left by the Alpha, it would have been strange if he didn’t feel uncomfortable, especially his waist, which hurt as if it were broken.

He quickly washed up at the sink, then grabbed his phone, placing it in his pocket. As he opened the bathroom door to leave, he saw the Alpha from last night standing at the doorway, holding a cup and seemingly ready to come in.

His attire today was more casual, a simple cashmere sweater with the top few buttons unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of his muscular chest. Zhou Yi noticed the same red marks on his body, along with some scratches, likely from him.

Without thinking too much, Zhou Yi realized the marks must have been left by him.

Seeing the Alpha made Zhou Yi’s mind flash back to the previous night. He suddenly remembered the things he had said and done while drunk—hanging onto his neck, pressing his face to his, crying, begging him not to let go.

How embarrassing, Zhou Yi thought, feeling his cheeks flush.

Swallowing hard, he tried to speak but found his voice failing him. Finally, he managed to say, “That…”

Liang Xianzhang seemed to know what he wanted to say and responded calmly, “Liang Xianzhang.”

“Mr. Liang…” Zhou Yi spoke hesitantly. “Thank you for last night.”

Zhou Yi’s gratitude was sincere—if not for the Alpha, he might have been exposed to Meng Rongze, and this was the second time the man had helped him.

Liang Xianzhang briefly glanced at his face but quickly looked away, responding in his usual calm tone, “It’s nothing.”

“Then… I’ll leave now?” Zhou Yi asked, feeling awkward about leaving after a one-night stand.

Liang Xianzhang lowered his gaze to him and casually said, “Have breakfast before you leave. You were physically exhausted yesterday… you even fainted.”

Zhou Yi choked on his own saliva. His face flushed even deeper, his heart racing as the words fainted… fainted… echoed in his mind.

Liang Xianzhang, noticing his flushed face, immediately reached out to feel his forehead. He leaned in closer, his voice soft, “Are you feeling alright? Are you uncomfortable?”

Zhou Yi, feeling the heat radiating from Liang Xianzhang’s breath, took an instinctive step back, creating some distance between them. He managed to force out, “I’m fine…”

Liang Xianzhang watched him retreat, his expression unreadable. He lowered his hand slowly, letting his fingers curl and then release, murmuring, “Your face is hot. Tell me if you’re feeling unwell.”

“I’m really fine…” Zhou Yi rubbed his face, trying to redirect the conversation. “It’s just a little hot. Didn’t you say we should have breakfast? I’m a little hungry.”

Liang Xianzhang nodded and didn’t press the issue further.

They sat down at the dining table, facing each other. Zhou Yi, visibly uncomfortable, shifted in his seat repeatedly, unable to get comfortable.

Liang Xianzhang quickly noticed and, realizing his mistake, got up to fetch a cushion. “Sit on this. It’ll be much more comfortable,” he said, offering it to Zhou Yi.

Though slightly embarrassed, Zhou Yi took the cushion, thanking Liang Xianzhang before placing it under himself. The comfort it provided was immediate.

As they ate breakfast in silence, Zhou Yi found the food surprisingly delicious—simple yet flavorful. The crab roe buns were delicate, the porridge light but rich in taste. He devoured the meal quickly, starving after the previous night.

Liang Xianzhang watched him quietly, noticing how his cheeks puffed slightly as he chewed, his lips pursed in a way that seemed unexpectedly elegant despite his haste. Zhou Yi’s lips were a soft pink, and Liang Xianzhang couldn’t help but follow their movement as he ate.

The sight made him momentarily distracted, and as his hand shook, he accidentally knocked his spoon into the bowl, splashing porridge onto the table and a few drops onto his hand.

Before he could react, Zhou Yi was already standing and handing him a tissue. As their fingers brushed, Liang Xianzhang felt a tingling sensation, his heart skipping a beat. His eyes inadvertently dropped to Zhou Yi’s waist, still marked from the previous night.

Feeling his breath catch, Liang Xianzhang quickly turned away, his mind racing. “It’s fine,” he said, trying to maintain composure. “The porridge isn’t hot. You eat, I’ll wash my hands.”

Zhou Yi nodded, not noticing the subtle shift in Liang Xianzhang’s behavior, and continued eating.

Liang Xianzhang excused himself to the bathroom, needing a moment to calm down. Staring at himself in the mirror, he pressed his hand against his aching gland. He had never felt so out of control, his body reacting to Zhou Yi in ways he couldn’t explain.

He knew he needed to get a check-up soon. But for now, all he could do was take deep breaths and try to keep his composure around the Omega whose influence on him was far greater than he had ever imagined.