Wei Xiaochi woke up from unconsciousness, his eyes greeted by a tall ceiling.

The room was clean and tidy, the windows bright and clear. Cream-colored wallpaper complemented the wooden floors, and a sofa and coffee table were positioned near the window.

A white medical adhesive tape was fixed to the back of his hand, holding an IV needle in place. The IV bag hanging on the stand was already half-empty.

It took Wei Xiaochi several seconds to realize that he was in a hospital.

If not for the faint smell of disinfectant in the room and the call button by the bedside, Wei Xiaochi might have mistaken it for a five-star hotel.

Jiang Zhan emerged from the bathroom. Noticing that Wei Xiaochi’s eyes were open, he strode to the bedside in a few long steps.

Standing at the side of the bed, Jiang Zhan turned slightly, one hand casually in his pocket. His tall, lean frame and composed, handsome features exuded an air of confidence.

“You’re awake?” His tone was indifferent, as though he was merely checking on Wei Xiaochi in passing.

“What… what happened to me?” Wei Xiaochi felt feverish, drenched in sweat, and weak all over.

Hadn’t he already taken an inhibitor? Why did he still feel so unwell?

Jiang Zhan’s expression flickered for a moment before returning to its usual coldness. “You experienced a pseudo-differentiation. You’ll need to stay in the hospital for two days under observation.”

“Pseudo-differentiation?” Wei Xiaochi froze for a moment, then shot upright on the bed as the words sank in. “You mean I didn’t fully differentiate this time?”

He had already endured the pain, and now he’d have to go through it all over again?

The frustration surged through him, causing him to cough violently, his chest heaving with every breath.

“What are you getting so worked up about? Lie down properly,” Jiang Zhan scolded, his tone sharp.

Seeing Wei Xiaochi struggling to stop coughing, Jiang Zhan awkwardly patted his back to help him catch his breath, then poured a glass of water and shoved it towards him. “Drink.”

Wei Xiaochi took the glass, but his arms felt so weak that the water trembled along with his hands.

Jiang Zhan noticed and took the glass from him, pressing the rim of the cup to Wei Xiaochi’s lips. Without any expression, he ordered, “Drink.”

“Thank you.”

Wei Xiaochi lowered his head and sipped the water gently, one small sip at a time.

It wasn’t that he was intentionally drinking delicately—it was just that Jiang Zhan clearly had no experience taking care of others. He didn’t seem to understand the proper angle for tilting the cup, making it a challenge to drink smoothly.

Jiang Zhan held the cup level and inadvertently glanced at Wei Xiaochi as he drank.

With his head lowered, Wei Xiaochi appeared particularly docile. His ears were tinged with an unnatural redness, one of them glowing translucently under the light, revealing the fine network of capillaries beneath.

Unable to resist, Jiang Zhan reached out and pinched Wei Xiaochi’s earlobe. It was warm and squishy to the touch.

Wei Xiaochi raised his eyes in surprise.

Jiang Zhan froze for a second before scowling and snapping, “What are you looking at? Just drink your water.”

Wei Xiaochi coughed lightly, his lips glistening with a hint of moisture. Shaking his head, he murmured, “I can’t drink anymore.”

Jiang Zhan, displeased, placed the glass back on the table and leaned against the cabinet by the bed, poking at the water bottle without saying a word.

Wei Xiaochi, still preoccupied with the concept of pseudo-differentiation, wanted to ask Jiang Zhan for more details. But the moment he opened his mouth, Jiang Zhan immediately turned to stare at him, as if waiting for him to break the silence first.

“…”

Just then, the door to the room opened, and an elderly doctor with graying hair and a kind demeanor walked in, wearing a white coat.

Jiang Zhan suddenly kicked the bedside table and turned his face away, looking annoyed.

Wei Xiaochi stared at Jiang Zhan’s broad, upright back, baffled by his sudden sulking.

Jiang Zhan not only had a temper but also seemed to get angry over the most inexplicable things. Wei Xiaochi often couldn’t make sense of his moods.

The doctor, holding a medical chart, smiled as he approached Wei Xiaochi. “How are you feeling?”

Wei Xiaochi withdrew his gaze and answered honestly, “Terrible.”

“What are your specific symptoms?”

“Dizziness, weakness, night sweats, and glandular heat,” Wei Xiaochi replied, his lips dry and pale, worry etched on his face. “Do I have to go through differentiation again?”

The doctor jotted down the symptoms in his chart and looked up, saying, “No, you don’t. Your case is a bit special.”

Hearing the word “special,” Wei Xiaochi’s heart sank. His voice tightened. “What do you mean by special?”

Realizing his phrasing had caused misunderstanding, the doctor patiently explained.

Wei Xiaochi’s condition was indeed pseudo-differentiation, but not in the way he had imagined.

At the sports center earlier, he had been affected by the clashing pheromones of two alphas. His underdeveloped glands had been overstimulated, causing his initial distress.

Normally, a bit of rest would have resolved the issue.

But Jiang Zhan, thinking Wei Xiaochi was undergoing differentiation, had brought him to the locker room. There, Jiang Zhan’s pheromones triggered a premature differentiation.

However, Wei Xiaochi’s glands were still immature, leading to what was classified as a secondary differentiation induced by an alpha’s top-tier pheromones.

This unique condition was referred to as pseudo-differentiation.

While Wei Xiaochi had technically differentiated, the process wasn’t complete due to his glands’ immaturity.

Fortunately, Jiang Zhan had administered the inhibitor during the pseudo-differentiation, which delayed glandular development. If he had done so earlier in the locker room, things would have been far more complicated.

The doctor had now given Wei Xiaochi a glandular catalyst injection, requiring two days of observation.

The doctor reassured him, “The catalyst will speed up glandular development. The symptoms you’re experiencing are normal.”

Wei Xiaochi’s eyes lit up with hope. “So, does that mean I don’t have to differentiate again?”

The doctor nodded. “Correct. You’ve already differentiated. Your glands just need time to develop.”

“To put it simply, while others drop mature fruits, yours dropped prematurely. But with the catalyst, you’ll ripen just the same.”

“…”

Now Wei Xiaochi understood.

The doctor continued to comfort him. “Glandular development often comes with high fevers and night sweats, so there’s no need to worry. Just rest in bed, stick to a light diet, and I’ll check on you every few hours.”

“Of course, if you feel uncomfortable, you can always press the call button.”

The doctor added, “Do you have any other questions?”

“No,” Wei Xiaochi replied.

Noticing Wei Xiaochi’s hoarse voice, the doctor reminded him, “Drink more water. Glandular development accelerates your metabolism, so you need to stay hydrated.”

“Got it.”

The doctor took out a thermometer. “Let me check your temperature. Someone will come to draw blood in two hours. Drinking water is fine, but avoid eating for now.”

“Okay.”

After measuring his temperature, the doctor left the room.

Wei Xiaochi, visibly fatigued, had redness at the corners of his eyes but pale lips. His head still felt heavy, and he wanted to sleep again.

Jiang Zhan adjusted the bed to raise the headrest. As the bed rose, Wei Xiaochi couldn’t help but glance at him.

The alpha poured a large glass of water, his face blank as he ordered, “Drink.”

With the glass already at his lips, Wei Xiaochi had no choice but to drink, holding the bottom of the glass with his hand as he sipped half of it.

Feeling unable to drink any more, he awkwardly reached up to adjust his glasses but found nothing there.

Remembering how much he had sweated earlier, which had glued his eyelashes together and left his vision blurry, he had completely forgotten about his glasses.

“Where are my glasses?” Wei Xiaochi asked, a mix of anxiety and worry in his voice. “Did you bring them when you took me to the hospital?”

“No,” Jiang Zhan replied.

Wei Xiaochi panicked. “Then hurry back and get them!” That pair of glasses had cost over six thousand yuan!

Seeing Wei Xiaochi so flustered, a peculiar look flickered across Jiang Zhan’s face before he seemed to relax.

It made sense—after all, that was the first… gift he had ever given him.

“It’s your fault for not keeping track of them. Who else is to blame?” Jiang Zhan huffed before stepping out to call Li Suilin, asking him to check the locker room for the glasses.

When he returned, his face was as aloof as ever. Without looking at Wei Xiaochi, he said, “They weren’t lost. Someone picked them up and put them away.”

Wei Xiaochi heaved a sigh of relief. Thank goodness they weren’t gone.

Jiang Zhan let out a couple of huffs, and when Wei Xiaochi looked at him, he turned his face away.

Wei Xiaochi watched him for a while. His eyelashes fluttered, heavy with exhaustion, as they slowly drooped over his eyes.

Jiang Zhan waited for ages without hearing Wei Xiaochi say a word. Irritated, his brows furrowed as he turned his head—only to see that the boy had fallen asleep.

Omega’s soft black hair draped over the snow-white pillow, with a few strands brushing his delicate brows. His lips were pale, their color faint even with the high fever, but they looked undeniably soft.

Jiang Zhan’s throat moved involuntarily as he leaned closer.

Bending down, he took a sniff at Wei Xiaochi’s hair whirl. His nose brushed past the damp, dark strands, sliding downward until it nearly grazed the tip of Wei Xiaochi’s ear. Then, he looked up—only to meet a pair of pitch-black eyes staring right at him.

Wei Xiaochi hadn’t been sleeping soundly. Sensing something unusual, he had opened his eyes.

Seeing Jiang Zhan’s face so close, he wondered if he was still dreaming.

Jiang Zhan’s pupils contracted violently. He looked even more startled than Wei Xiaochi, his muscles taut like a bowstring, ready to snap—a startled bird trapped in an oversized six-foot-two frame.

The sight was unintentionally funny, but Wei Xiaochi dared not laugh.

Lying on the hospital bed, gripping the blanket tightly, his face was slick with sweat. His water-bright eyes stared at Jiang Zhan, unsure of what to say.

Jiang Zhan froze, holding his breath. Wei Xiaochi genuinely feared the alpha might suffocate himself, so he broke the awkward silence.

“What’s wrong? Is… is it my pheromones affecting you again?”

Wei Xiaochi couldn’t think of any other explanation for why Jiang Zhan was suddenly so close.

The doctor had mentioned that although he wouldn’t differentiate again, his glands would release pheromones during development. The sweat soaking him was from his glands secreting these pheromones. It wasn’t surprising that Jiang Zhan would be affected.

Sure enough, Jiang Zhan snapped back to reality and immediately lost his temper. “What else would it be? You think you look so great that I’d willingly sniff you?”

“You should go home.” Wei Xiaochi murmured, pulling the blanket up over his nose and tucking his neck completely inside.

After a pause, he repeated softly, “Go home. You don’t need to stay here and watch over me.”

“There’s a call button by the bed. I can reach it easily. The doctor also said they’d check on me every few hours.”

He could take care of himself. There was no need to trouble others.

Jiang Zhan froze, his entire body stiff like a statue on the verge of crumbling with the slightest movement. He held his breath for what felt like forever before letting out a harsh exhale, finally breaking free from his petrified state.

Jiang Zhan’s tone was gruff. “You… talk too much.”

Flustered, he grabbed a glass of water and shoved it toward Wei Xiaochi, his eyes darting around nervously. “Drink!”

“…”

Didn’t he just have water?

Under Jiang Zhan’s forceful insistence, Wei Xiaochi took a few more sips, his stomach now sloshing with liquid at the slightest movement.

After handing Wei Xiaochi the water, Jiang Zhan stomped over to the sofa near the window and sat in the furthest spot away from him.

He didn’t speak to Wei Xiaochi again, nor did he leave.

Outside, the ginkgo leaves stretched vibrantly, their shadows casting dappled light over Jiang Zhan’s figure.

The alpha’s chin was held high, lips pursed in defiance, giving him a proud and solitary air, tinged faintly with vulnerability.

Wei Xiaochi knew better than to provoke Jiang Zhan’s temper at a time like this. Pulling the blanket snug, he drifted off into a drowsy sleep.

The doctor had mentioned someone would come to draw blood in two hours, but during that time, Wei Xiaochi’s sleep was restless. He woke up several times.

Each time he opened his eyes, the sullen-faced alpha would feed him a couple of sips of water, to the point where just the sight of the glass made his stomach churn.

Having drunk so much water, Wei Xiaochi needed to use the bathroom. But with his fever running high, his strength was completely sapped.

Clutching his legs together, his head bobbed in and out of the blanket, his hair now a disheveled mess. His flushed face grew redder by the second.

After much hesitation and internal struggle, Wei Xiaochi could no longer hold it in. Mumbling softly, he said, “I… need to use the bathroom.”

The alpha, who had been sitting like a statue on the sofa, suddenly snapped his head up, his jet-black eyes gleaming like they were ablaze.

“Aren’t you the one who told me to leave?”

“Aren’t you the one who said you didn’t need anyone watching over you?”

“Aren’t you the one who said there’s a call button by the bed, that the doctor would check on you every few hours?”

“…”

Jiang Zhan’s delayed revenge came swiftly and without mercy.

Wei Xiaochi was left speechless by his rapid-fire questioning, unable to come up with a rebuttal.

Wasn’t it Jiang Zhan who had complained about being affected by his pheromones? How did it end up as his fault?

The alpha, clearly relishing his small victory, raised his chin even higher, exuding an air of smug arrogance.

“Well? Why aren’t you saying anything now?”

Though his words were sharp, Jiang Zhan still walked over, bending down to pick up Wei Xiaochi from the bed.

Looking at Jiang Zhan’s overbearing yet handsome face, Wei Xiaochi felt his mind blank out, his chest tight with anxiety.

“I-I can manage if you just help me walk,” he stammered.

Jiang Zhan shot him a glare. “You’re such a hassle.”

Detaching the IV bag from its stand, Jiang Zhan held it in one hand while supporting Wei Xiaochi’s waist with the other. Though his face remained impatient, there was an unmistakable glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes.

Wei Xiaochi’s legs were as weak as jelly. By the time they made it to the bathroom, he was drenched in sweat, looking as if he’d just been fished out of water.

The cramped space of the bathroom heightened his senses. The sound of Wei Xiaochi’s labored breathing and the faint traces of pheromones seeping from his glands didn’t escape Jiang Zhan’s keen alpha instincts. He stared at the tiled floor, his face heating up to the roots of his hair.

After several seconds of silence, both began to wonder—

“Why isn’t he leaving?”

“Why isn’t he doing anything?”

Their eyes met, and an awkward standoff ensued.

Unable to hold it any longer, Wei Xiaochi broke the silence, his voice breathless. “Can you please step out?”

Jiang Zhan’s brows furrowed in displeasure. “Stop pretending to be tough. You can barely stand. Hurry up already.”

Unable to bear the shame, Wei Xiaochi resigned himself to unfastening his pants.

As a top-tier alpha, Jiang Zhan’s peripheral vision was expansive. He inadvertently caught sight of Wei Xiaochi’s pale, trembling hands. His knuckles were flushed with heat from the fever, and his nails, like their owner, were slightly unkempt.

Jiang Zhan quickly averted his gaze, his ears turning an even brighter shade of red.

Wei Xiaochi’s strength was entirely sapped. After much effort and trembling, he finally managed to undo his pants.

A few moments later, he murmured in embarrassment, “I can’t… I can’t go with you here.”

For once, Jiang Zhan didn’t scold him. Instead, he inexplicably blurted out, “Do you see anything over there?”

Wei Xiaochi, desperate for Jiang Zhan to leave so he could resolve his urgent need, instinctively followed the direction of Jiang Zhan’s pointed finger.

Without his glasses, all he could see were the white tiles on the wall. He had no idea what Jiang Zhan was talking about.

And then—suddenly—he felt a flick.

A flick.

It hit him like a ripple in his mind, the sensation echoing back and forth like a water balloon bursting in his head.

A surge of uncontrollable emotion shot up his spine to his brain, leaving Wei Xiaochi on the brink of madness.

Author’s Note:

This is Xiao Chi’s iconic moment of social death, hahaha.