Thirteenth Day of Pretending to Be an Alpha

Chu Mo wondered if he was hallucinating from hunger.

Was Chi Cheng really this upset over something so trivial?

Was this still the same Young Master Chi who would argue with anything and everything?

Chi Cheng seemed to notice the confusion and disbelief in Chu Mo’s eyes.

“Of course you don’t care,” Chi Cheng said. “You’re forgetful—it’s normal for you not to remember.”

His tone was much calmer than it had been in the suit shop, but Chu Mo could still hear the sarcasm beneath the surface.

“Anyway, my stuff’s never been important to you,” Chi Cheng continued. “It’s been that way since we were kids…”

Chi Cheng said a lot after that.

But Chu Mo, who hadn’t eaten all day, could barely register any of it.

There was a faint ringing in his ears, and his vision felt just a little bit too sharp around the edges.

Still, he forced himself to stay upright.

Since Chi Cheng had waited for him so late, Chu Mo felt the least he could do was explain.

“It’s not that I don’t care,” Chu Mo said, voice weak. “It’s just… right after I got off the phone, Xie Songchen showed up.”

Chi Cheng froze.

A second later, jealousy surged through him like a wildfire.

“So you didn’t even plan it with him in advance?!”

The calm front he’d barely managed to hold up instantly cracked.

If Chu Mo had made plans with that secretary beforehand, at least he could’ve rationalized it.

But now… this meant Chu Mo had rejected him, only to turn around and spontaneously go out with someone else?

Chu Mo blinked, startled. The discomfort in his stomach was growing worse.

Still, he pressed on, frowning through the pain. “The reason I agreed to go was because I promised to get him a custom suit—”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Chi Cheng snapped.

He turned sharply, intent on walking away.

But then he caught sight of Chu Mo’s face.

His lips were pale.

Chi Cheng froze.

Without thinking, he stepped forward and grabbed Chu Mo’s arm.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, voice tight. “You don’t look right.”

Chu Mo took a shallow breath. “It’s nothing. I’ve just been busy… didn’t have time to eat.”

Besides the rice noodles with Xie Songchen that morning, he hadn’t eaten anything all day.

“This is nothing?!” Chi Cheng’s eyes widened. “Don’t you remember you have a sensitive stomach?!”

For a moment, all of Chi Cheng’s anger vanished, replaced by guilt.

“You need to go to the hospital,” Chi Cheng said. “Now.”

He pulled Chu Mo toward his car. “Stop talking.”

“I said I’m fine,” Chu Mo protested, trying to pull his arm back.

But Chi Cheng’s grip didn’t loosen. He firmly pushed Chu Mo into the passenger seat, buckled him in, and without another word, drove straight to the nearest hospital.

⸻

Chu Mo sat quietly, watching the Alpha driving beside him.

Chi Cheng’s jawline was tight, his expression full of urgency.

As he drove, he glanced at Chu Mo and said in a low voice, “We’ll be there soon. Just hold on.”

Somehow, hearing that made Chu Mo’s discomfort ease a little.

And suddenly, he realized—

The person beside him didn’t feel like the same brat from childhood anymore.

⸻

Soon, Chi Cheng pulled up to the hospital entrance.

“Help me register,” Chu Mo said, wincing slightly.

“Register?” Chi Cheng looked lost for a second.

He was usually healthy and rarely went to hospitals. After studying abroad, he also wasn’t familiar with how domestic hospitals worked.

Chu Mo was about to explain when another wave of stomach pain hit. He clutched his side and gasped softly.

“I’ll do it!” Chi Cheng said quickly.

He helped Chu Mo sit down on a bench, then rushed to the registration desk.

At the counter, Chi Cheng anxiously asked how to register. After the staff patiently walked him through it, he bowed gratefully and thanked them in earnest.

Watching Chi Cheng from a distance, Chu Mo felt a sense of unreality.

Chi Cheng had always been proud and difficult. He hated showing weakness or admitting ignorance—especially over something as basic as registering at a hospital. But now, he’d completely tossed aside his pride.

Just for Chu Mo.

⸻

After registering, Chi Cheng returned and handed Chu Mo a number slip.

“Gastroenterology. They’ll call you in ten minutes,” he said.

Then he turned, walked to the water station, and came back with a cup of hot water.

“Here,” he said, holding it out. “Drink.”

Chu Mo took it, sipped slowly, and muttered, “Thanks.”

But of course, he didn’t forget to stay in character.

He quickly added, “Chi Chengjun, don’t think this’ll change my impression of you and let you date Chu Yun.”

Seeing the color slowly return to Chu Mo’s face, Chi Cheng finally relaxed.

He even let the “Chi Chengjun” slide without complaint.

“What,” Chi Cheng said, raising an eyebrow, “You think I have a bad impression of myself?”

Chu Mo snorted. “What do you think?”

Chi Cheng didn’t answer. He looked away and lowered his head, staring at the sterile hospital floor. He was quiet for a long time.

Then, out of nowhere, he asked:

“Do you think I’m still as childish as I was when I was younger?”

Chu Mo was caught off guard. He frowned. “Why are you asking that?”

Chi Cheng didn’t respond right away.

Instead, he looked at the crowded hospital lobby—the bustling patients, the fluorescent lights, the distant echo of paging announcements—and said softly,

“I wanted to meet you today just to say…”

He paused. Then turned to Chu Mo, gaze clear and serious.

“I did a lot of dumb things when I was a kid.”

Chu Mo blinked.

He hadn’t expected Chi Cheng to admit that—not out loud.

Chi Cheng had done plenty of obnoxious things growing up, but he’d never once apologized for any of it.

“If you don’t want to talk to me because of the past,” Chi Cheng continued, his Adam’s apple bobbing, “Then I just want to say…”

The three words were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t say them. Chi Cheng had rarely apologized to anyone in his life. He lived freely, like a carefree rogue. Father Chi once commented that Chi Cheng didn’t have a sense of guilt. But somehow, looking at the Alpha in front of him, Chu Mo had a thought: Chi Cheng wasn’t without guilt; his pride just didn’t allow him to bow his head.

“If you can’t say sorry, then don’t,” Chu Mo’s expression wasn’t great. “I don’t have the energy to listen to this right now.”

“Sorry.”

The hoarse voice came suddenly. Chu Mo’s hand, holding the disposable cup, paused. He looked at Chi Cheng in surprise, who quickly averted his gaze. Under the hospital lights, Chu Mo clearly saw Chi Cheng’s flushed cheeks.

“Rare,” Chu Mo looked Chi Cheng up and down, as if seeing a stranger. “First time hearing you apologize.”

“Second time,” Chi Cheng said.

Chu Mo was taken aback.

“The first time was when I reported you for receiving love letters,” Chi Cheng’s tone grew more unnatural, “and got you scolded by your parents for two hours.”

Chu Mo sneered. “Hmph, you still have the nerve to mention that?”

Chi Cheng lowered his eyes, suddenly hooking a finger around the necklace on his neck. “This necklace was a gift from you, remember?”

Chu Mo examined it closely, vaguely recalling. The necklace was something he’d bought with his first earnings after starting high school. He’d initially wanted to give it to Chu Yun, but the size didn’t fit—and Chi Cheng, being thick-skinned, took it instead. So much time had passed that if Chi Cheng hadn’t mentioned it, Chu Mo might not have remembered.

“If you won’t forgive me,” Chi Cheng’s fingers tightened around the necklace as he looked at the person beside him, “I’ll give the necklace back to you.”

The necklace seemed well-preserved, still shiny after all these years. In Chu Mo’s impression, Chi Cheng was impulsive, breaking countless things as a child. He hadn’t expected Chi Cheng to treasure this necklace for so long, keeping it in perfect condition. Chu Mo also remembered the shirt Chi Cheng had returned when he came back from abroad. For someone as careless and forgetful as Chi Cheng, preserving both a shirt and a necklace for so many years must’ve taken considerable effort. No wonder Chi Cheng was so angry when Chu Mo didn’t recognize him—or the shirt.

Looking at Chi Cheng, who seemed a bit nervous, Chu Mo realized this was Chi Cheng’s way of seeking forgiveness. After a while, seeing Chu Mo remain silent, a hint of disappointment and reluctance flickered in Chi Cheng’s eyes.

Chu Mo’s voice finally broke the silence.

“Keep it.”

Chi Cheng was momentarily stunned. Then his eyes lit up with joy, blurting out, “Really?!”

“If you don’t want it, give it back,” Chu Mo said coldly.

“Too late,” Chi Cheng grinned. “No take-backs.”

Chi Cheng felt that the necklace around his neck was different from before. At this moment, it felt like he truly owned it.

“I’m only letting you keep it because I don’t want to hold grudges,” Chu Mo said sternly. “It doesn’t mean I approve of you and Chu Yun being a match. If you think this will win me over, you’re dreaming.”

Chi Cheng scoffed. “Who wants to win you over?”

But he couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at his lips.

Just then, Chu Mo’s number appeared on the hospital display screen. He handed the disposable cup to Chi Cheng and walked into the consultation room. After the doctor’s examination, Chu Mo was advised to undergo a simple test.

Hearing this, Chi Cheng frowned. “Another test? Isn’t that a hassle?”

Chu Mo nodded. “That’s what the doctor said.”

After the blood test, the two sat outside the consultation room, waiting. About twenty minutes later, the test results came back. The doctor called Chu Mo in and asked him to close the door. Holding the test report, the doctor said, “Your stomach doesn’t seem to have any major issues. Just avoid alcohol.”

Chu Mo let out a breath of relief.

“Your symptoms and test results suggest something more like Pheromone Imbalance Syndrome,” the doctor added, frowning in confusion. “It’s rare for an Alpha to have this condition.”

Chu Mo was stunned. He quickly glanced at the door, ensuring it was shut, and felt a weight lift off his chest.

“Ahem,” Chu Mo swallowed nervously. “What usually causes this condition?”

“Some Omegas who use inhibitors long-term might develop this,” the doctor explained. “For Alphas, it can occur if they release pheromones without relief. Generally, staying away from Omegas resolves it.”

Chu Mo froze. The doctor gave him a peculiar look but didn’t say more, only advising, “You should visit the hormone department when you have time.”

Chu Mo’s fingers clenched. He nodded. “I understand.”

Meanwhile, outside the consultation room, Chi Cheng recalled what Cheng Cheng had said to him that morning. He pulled out his phone, opened a search app, and typed:

[Can an Alpha like another Alpha?]

Chi Cheng stared at the question for a long time. Just as he was about to press enter, the consultation room door opened. Startled, he hurriedly deleted the text, closed the app, and stuffed the phone into his pocket—like he was hiding something he wasn’t supposed to be seen.