Chapter 29
Shu Ci clearly knew he was in a dream.
He remembered the actual events of that night at the awards ceremony.
He hadn’t found his assistant, and fearing someone would come looking for him, he locked himself in his car, squeezing the keys until they drew blood, while calling emergency services, maintaining consciousness until he was taken to the ambulance.
The doctor who treated him was a fan; she silently transferred him to a trusted colleague in the hospital, allowing Shu Ci to spend two peaceful days there.
Although there were some news reports expressing concern for his health, most people were more interested in the red-carpet glamour, the rumors of the best actor and actress, and even some outlandish marketing accounts claiming he had gotten food poisoning at the banquet.
In short, no one cared what he had actually experienced.
It was during this minor incident that he discovered that even his assistant had been bought off and sidetracked by that actor. Fortunately, after winning the award, his value had risen, and he met a producer who was like a mentor, and all those people and things with grievances were gradually erased from his memories over time.
After receiving news from an investor and reading the original novel, Shu Ci had suspected that the author of “The Troublemaking Sweet Omega Can’t Escape” was one of his fervent haters. Not only were his and the original protagonist’s names exactly the same, but even the plot point of accidentally drinking a drugged drink was extremely similar.
Only, he hadn’t had time to meet the original author before he was transported here.
Lu Wanqing’s appearance at that night’s awards ceremony clearly confirmed that this was a dream.
Perhaps after high-intensity training, his nerves relaxed, and his subconscious gave him a reward. He was immersed in Lu Wanqing’s face and deep eyes, unwilling to wake up from this dream.
However, even though he felt desire, in the dream, he still lacked the courage, only daring to hug Lu Wanqing and nibble on his ear. His nose carefully rubbed against his neck, as if that could suppress the uncontrollable heat surging within him.
Shu Ci vaguely smelled a scent of braised vegetables while caressing him.
His eyelashes fluttered, and he thought, when did this person’s pheromones get a scent?
But the Shu Ci in the dream didn’t think much of it; he bit Lu Wanqing’s neck, “So delicious.”
…
The Lu Wanqing in the dream stood rooted to the spot like a wooden stake, letting him do as he pleased.
While the Lu Wanqing outside the dream twitched his eye, looking down at Shu Ci unconsciously hugging him, biting his side, and smacking his lips, saying it was delicious.
Lu Wanqing: “…”
What kind of dream was this? Was he hungry?
But he understood; Shu Ci was completely exhausted and had fallen into a deep coma; his actions were no longer controlled by consciousness, purely instinctive. The pain from their pheromone incompatibility lingered on Shu Ci, but couldn’t be received by his nerves and transmitted to his brain; only he, the one who was awake, was suffering.
He pushed Shu Ci’s head away, supported his back, and helped him sit upright, using every opportunity to stuff the rice balls from the plate into Shu Ci’s mouth.
Shu Ci instinctively began to chew and swallow.
His long eyelashes were tightly closed, his throat bobbing up and down, his lips opening and closing, somehow making the act of eating rather seductive.
Lu Wanqing lowered his eyes, not daring to look.
His gaze fell on Shu Ci’s fingertips.
…Those slender fingers had touched his lips against the photograph earlier.
Lu Wanqing’s heart pounded as he looked away.
For a moment, he didn’t know where to look, finally closing his eyes helplessly.
As soon as he closed his eyes, he heard Shu Ci’s faint voice, “Water…”
He resigned himself to it, took a deep breath, released his materialized pheromones, picked up a glass of water from the table, and brought it to Shu Ci. The Omega’s crimson lips touched the rim of the cup, taking small sips before contentedly shrinking back into the blanket.
Lu Wanqing had spent two years rotating through hospital wards under his mentor; he was adept at caring for people. In the past, patients would occasionally be uncooperative, but the sleeping Shu Ci was incredibly well-behaved, seemingly having a good dream, smiling as he allowed himself to be handled.
Feeding him, giving him water, wiping his sweat, washing his face.
Lu Wanqing glanced at the time; after everything was done, he took the basin out of the rest room and turned off the lights.
Having been so close to Shu Ci, he was numb with pain.
Lu Wanqing gave the things in his hands to the cabin’s daily robot and went into the cockpit.
Leaning back in the driver’s seat, the man gazed at the meeting of sea and sky, raising his hand to press his temples.
He opened the communication system, connected to the base channel, and left a message for He Lian.
Gu Lan Zhu couldn’t possibly ignore Shu Ci’s departure.
If he sent people to patrol and search the area where the Dragonthorn Island and Jiao Yuan Island waters met, he wasn’t sure if the Gu family’s technology could detect them. After all, when the Gu family’s former member of parliament was at the height of his power, many pieces of equipment and operating systems were in cooperation with the Gu family.
It was best to have Cui You bring them to finish the work and leave as soon as possible.
After he helped Shu Ci through his heat cycle, he could return late to accept his punishment.
It was also late at night in City A; his message only received an automatic reply.
In the quiet cockpit, Lu Wanqing leaned lazily, enjoying this moment free from the torment of 1% pheromones. Soon, his ears keenly picked up a moan from the other room.
He suddenly raised his head, got up, and walked back to the rest cabin.
Stepping back into the tormenting hell.
No one saw that his deep eyes were always fixed on the person sleeping soundly on the bed. The man walked to the bedside, released his pheromones, carefully tapped the unruly pheromones that were drifting out, and bound the wandering pheromones.
Letting them unconsciously struggle and attack in his palm.
The small fight between the two pheromones created a subtle energy fluctuation in the air; some of the burning desires were dissolved in the silent scuffle; the furrowed brows of the sleeping Shu Ci gradually smoothed out.
In the dark cabin, Lu Wanqing “saw” the energy flickering and sparking, showing a surprised expression.
Until now, it seemed only Alphas were qualified to discuss the aggressiveness of pheromones.
In the secular world, the pheromones of Omegasexuals were seductive; they were a manifestation or epitome of the owner’s charm and desire, a prelude to courtship.
However, medically, the pheromones of Alphas and Omegasexuals are not essentially different.
Just as Omegasexuals have heat cycles, Alphas have receptive periods; the two are symmetrical in a physiological sense. The ability to attack with pheromones is also common to both, but no one has ever proven this.
And now? From the first time he taught, to today’s over-the-limit practice, how long had it been?
Shu Ci’s subconscious had already developed an awareness of attack and defense.
Lu Wanqing’s mind flashed with his teacher’s contemptuous expression.
Back then, he was still a naive brat.
His teacher was extremely strict with him, but he couldn’t control the angle of his pheromone attack, and he angrily kicked a peach tree, frowning.
She threw the teaching peach branch to the ground, sneering, “I saved you and taught you, just so you could have a frown on your face? If you have the ability, why don’t you glare at those rich second-generation kids speeding on Juqing Road? Or do you want to be hit by them one day, or rot in the mud for the rest of your life?”
After twenty years, some things had never changed.
High society’s self-proclaimed “top” Alphas controlled all aspects of pheromone ability acquisition, dissemination, and teaching. If it weren’t for his teacher’s appearance, he, born into a humble background, wouldn’t even have had the opportunity to learn this precise control, let alone an Omega.
They didn’t even allow any Omegasexuals to discover their potential in this area.
“Lu Wanqing, don’t resign yourself to fate; go break it.”
The last words he had spoken with his teacher echoed in his ears again.
His eyes flickered, then dimmed.
Countless sleepless nights, he would remember those words. But he couldn’t break fate; he could only watch helplessly as the fire in his heart gradually weakened, darkened, and extinguished in the deep night.
Lu Wanqing’s pheromones were tinged with negative weariness.
The wildly struggling honeysuckle seemed to sense his perfunctory pheromones and dazedly poked at his restraint.
He sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, collecting his pheromones and closing his eyes, letting the honeysuckle fragrance brush past his neck, incomprehensibly drifting back and forth in front of him.
The night was dark as water; he clearly felt every thorn on his skin.
The pain he had become accustomed to had become numb.
If it were Shu Ci, could he break it?
Shu Ci’s beautiful dream of hugging Lu Wanqing didn’t last long. After biting him indiscriminately and letting go, he found himself in a different scene.
A boundless industrial wasteland, he sat at the bottom of a dilapidated, abandoned building.
Above him was the starry sky they had seen today, a magnificent meteor shower streaking across the sky.
Shu Ci hugged his knees, captivated by the sight.
He knew he was a dreamer. Since childhood, he had had many dreams; sometimes he would realize he was dreaming, sometimes the details of the dream would be very clear, and sometimes the scenes and plots of the dreams could even connect to the chaotic dreams of the previous year.
He was accustomed to recording those bizarre dreams; the people and places that appeared in his dreams could become his creative inspiration. Several of his film’s famous scenes came from his dreams; after waking up, he had searched for a long time and found similar locations.
This was no exception.
He quickly realized when he had seen this dream scene.
Lowering his head, he saw his short arms and legs—he was indeed a child.
The meteor shower disappeared, the clouds gathered in the sky, and after a bolt of lightning, it began to rain.
It had come, the day he hated most in his life.
The day he hated the rain.
His body uncontrollably stood up and walked into the rain, stepping barefoot on the debris of the construction site’s ruins, stumbling forward.
That day, he thought he had gotten separated from his father; he cried and walked for a long time in the rain, sleeping in an abandoned building and was sent to the police station by construction workers in the morning.
Later, he learned they simply didn’t want him anymore.
They didn’t want a four- or five-year-old child who couldn’t even speak a complete sentence.
It was at the police station that he spoke his first sentence in life.
The police asked, “Do you know who you are? Do you know your parents’ names?”
He nodded, “Bitch.”
Police: “What?”
Shu Ci: “They say I’m a bitch’s child.”
The heavy rain blurred his vision; remembering this, the Shu Ci in the dream laughed.
He always thought his irritability was a self-protective aggression; now, he seemed to have a naturally bad temper, growing up with resentment and living quite unhappily, the only thing that could bring him joy was acting.
Now, he might have to add one more thing.
Training with Lu Wanqing.
That peach blossom rain was his most proud work recently.
Thinking this, a stage appeared in front of him.
A hazy light shone on it, and someone was manipulating shadow puppets, performing the classic story of the White Snake.
This was the kind of mutually devoted tragic love; Gu Lan Zhu was tasteless.
Shu Ci was captivated, suddenly meeting the eyes of the shadow puppet character.
The green eyes suddenly turned deep blue, exactly like Lu Wanqing’s long, narrow eyes.
Shu Ci abruptly opened his eyes and sat up from the bed.
Lu Wanqing was sitting on the floor by his bed, slightly lowering his head, revealing the white skin of his neck, like a lonely marionette sitting there.
What did he say that day? Helpless?
Shu Ci unconsciously raised his hand to touch Lu Wanqing’s neck.
Having read too many books, his suspicions intensified.
Could Lu Wanqing be…someone who had been reborn and awakened?
However, Lu Wanqing thought that Shu Ci’s restless pheromones were bothering him again.
He frowned, hooking Shu Ci’s finger, his voice hoarse, “Don’t make trouble.”