PTBC chapter 32

Xu Cong laid Xia Yan on the bed, doing nothing unnecessary. He only removed Xia Yan’s jacket and wiped his face and arms.

The room was dimly lit, with only a faint glow from the bedside lamp.

Xia Yan slept soundly, so deeply that it seemed nothing could wake him.

As Xu Cong wiped Xia Yan’s fingertips with a warm towel, he noticed the tips of his fingers had a faint pink hue. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the towel’s heat or something else.

Xia Yan’s hands had always been beautiful.

After all, they were hands that had practiced playing musical instruments since childhood—slender, pale, yet strong. When placed on piano keys, they were a sight to behold.

Every time Xia Yan performed a piano solo, close-ups of his hands would flood fan groups, treated with reverence.

Now, these hands rested gently in Xu Cong’s palm, showing no trace of the fierceness they displayed when throwing punches. In the soft glow of the room, they seemed to shimmer faintly, like a rare piece of white jade.

Xu Cong’s thoughts drifted back to the moment in the restaurant when Xia Yan instinctively avoided him.

And earlier that day, during the photoshoot, Xia Yan had also refused the hand he offered to help.

Xu Cong’s gaze darkened.

He couldn’t figure out what he had done wrong to make Xia Yan act so strangely.

But now, Xia Yan was too deeply asleep to provide any answers.

Xu Cong tossed the warm towel back into the bathroom and dimmed the bedside lamp further. He gazed at Xia Yan’s slightly flushed face, leaning down to rest his forehead gently against Xia Yan’s for a moment.

In that brief one or two minutes, Xu Cong released his pheromones to soothe and comfort Xia Yan.

The scent of sandalwood filled the room, like a faint, misty fog.

Xia Yan furrowed his brows slightly in his sleep, but his fingers twitched, as if trying to grasp something.

After a moment, Xu Cong left Xia Yan’s room. Outside, Ye Zhaoyang and the other team members had long stopped keeping an eye on him and had returned to their rooms to sleep.

Xu Cong went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and took out a bottle of chilled sparkling water.

Through the kitchen window, he could see that the rain hadn’t stopped; instead, it had gotten heavier.

The sound of rain filled the air, making the night feel far from peaceful.

After finishing the sparkling water, Xu Cong returned to his room.

Shortly after he entered, Xia Yan, who was supposed to be sound asleep, woke up.

…..

Xia Yan initially woke up because he was thirsty.

Although he’d had a lot of alcohol that night, he hadn’t drunk much water. Coupled with the salty food he’d eaten, his throat felt dry and parched.

He groggily opened his eyes, sat up on the bed, and fumbled around the bedside table, quickly finding the bottled water Xu Cong had left for him.

Relying on instinct, he unscrewed the cap and downed nearly half the bottle in one go before he began to feel more awake.

Xia Yan glanced around the room and immediately recognized it as his own bedroom.

However, his memory was still stuck at the Japanese restaurant. He remembered being unsteady on his feet after dinner, needing someone to help him. The bottle of sake he’d ordered was almost empty, yet he’d still been stubbornly reaching for the last bit…

“Ah… what a nightmare,” Xia Yan groaned in frustration, fully realizing the trouble caused by drinking. The alcohol’s aftereffects were strong—his head felt heavy, and the pain was unbearable.

As for everything that happened after the meal, he had no memory whatsoever. A complete blackout.

But it wasn’t hard to guess: his teammates must have carried him back.

He sat on the bed for a while longer, drinking a few more sips of water to wake up before standing up with the intent of taking a shower.

The smell of alcohol clinging to him was so strong that even he found it unbearable.

After changing the bedsheets and entering the bathroom, Xia Yan quickly realized something was wrong.

Standing under the showerhead with hot water cascading over him, the bathroom fogging up with steam, he felt a sharp sensitivity—almost as if the water stung his skin.

Hesitating, he reached up and touched the back of his neck. Was it just his imagination, or was it burning hot? His back itched slightly as well.

…Could he really be this unlucky?

With a sliver of hope, Xia Yan tried to convince himself that it was nothing. It had been two months since his last issue with pheromones; surely, there was no reason for it to flare up today of all days.

But reality has a way of hitting where it hurts the most.

Xia Yan rushed to finish his shower, but by the time he dried his hair, the strange sensations in his body were impossible to ignore.

Standing in front of the mirror, he resignedly pulled his robe apart.

Sure enough, in the foggy reflection, he saw his skin covered with conspicuous red marks and tiny rashes.

The pain radiating from his neck gland began to spread throughout his body.

The damned side effects of his secondary differentiation were once again making themselves loudly known.

Xia Yan felt utterly defeated.

After two months of relative peace, he’d almost forgotten about this condition. He’d even dared to believe he was close to recovery.

But now, these glaring marks across his skin were a rude reminder to stop dreaming.

Expressionless, Xia Yan tightened his robe.

Without hesitation, he walked out of the bathroom, intending to head to Xu Cong’s room.

Over the past two months, whenever symptoms appeared, he’d immediately latch onto Xu Cong for relief. Natural pheromones were non-toxic, efficient, and incredibly effective.

But just as he reached his bedroom door and placed his hand on the doorknob, he froze.

The temperature difference between the bedroom and bathroom seemed to wake him up a bit more.

Memories of the photoshoot earlier in the afternoon suddenly surged back.

Xu Cong’s soaked shirt, damp hair plastered against his face, Cu Cong’s hand gripping his ankle… and his own embarrassing physical reaction in the restroom.

All of it replayed vividly in Xia Yan’s mind.

As if scalded, he yanked his hand back, his expression darkening instantly.

He frowned and unconsciously bit his lip.

Could he really go to Xu Cong like this? What if, in the middle of an embrace or a temporary marking session, he had another humiliating reaction?

What if Xu Cong witnessed it firsthand?

The mere thought of such a scenario made Xia Yan rub his temples in distress.

Absolutely not.

If that happened, he’d either have to kill Xu Cong or kill himself.

There was no other way.

With that thought, Xia Yan spun around and ran back to his luggage, rummaging through it for the medication prescribed by Dr. Tu Lan.

However, as he held the brightly colored boxes in his hand, the doctor’s words echoed in his mind:

“From a medical perspective, I still recommend using natural pheromones for treatment. It’s the most effective solution for you. But keep in mind, if you rely on pheromones and then revert to medication midway, the drugs may lose efficacy. Frequent changes in treatment plans could prolong your differentiation period.”

“Of course, you will recover eventually. This isn’t an incurable condition. But switching treatments repeatedly could cause complications.”

Xia Yan pursed his lips, his hesitation growing.

Would he really go back to relying on medication? Before, he could accept it, but after experiencing Xu Cong’s pheromone treatment, the difference was like night and day.

He’d finally glimpsed hope for recovery. His body had shown signs of stabilization. And now, he was supposed to regress overnight? Every fiber of his being resisted the idea.

Lost in thought, Xia Yan sat there with a conflicted expression—his emotions cycling between frustration, anger, and helplessness.

….

In the room next door, Xu Cong stood in his bathroom, his hair half-dry, a loose black robe draped over his shoulders, faintly revealing his muscular frame.

After returning to his room, Xu Cong didn’t immediately shower but instead replied to an email.

Although he was now a celebrity in the country, family tradition dictated that once he became an adult, he held a significant amount of real estate and corporate shares. Occasionally, his older brother would drag him into meetings and lectures he had no interest in attending.

After promising his brother that he would attend a meeting next week and make time to visit home soon, his brother finally let him off the hook.

So annoying, Xu Cong thought expressionlessly as he shoved his phone into his pocket and walked out of the bathroom.

As he passed the doorway, heading for the sofa, he noticed a faint noise from outside the room. It was so subtle, like a small mouse quietly scurrying past the door.

Xu Cong frowned slightly.

The sound was almost negligible—perhaps someone in the dorm had gotten up to go to the kitchen, or it might have just been the wind.

Still, after thinking for a few seconds, he moved to the door and yanked it open.

The person outside had just given up on knocking and was about to turn and flee when the door opened on its own. Warm light spilled out of the room, freezing him in place.

Xia Yan stiffened immediately.

He looked up, meeting Xu Cong’s eyes.

Xu Cong tilted his head slightly, puzzled, and asked, “What are you doing here?”

Xia Yan adjusted his robe, unsure of how to respond.

What could he say? That in the middle of the night, the side effects of his differentiation period were acting up again, and he desperately needed Xu Cong to provide some pheromones—preferably as much as possible?

It should’ve been easy to say, but after the awkward incidents earlier in the day, he just couldn’t get the words out.

Rubbing his nose, Xia Yan muttered, “It’s nothing. I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk and just happened to end up outside your door…”

As he spouted nonsense, he turned to leave.

But before he could take a step, Xu Cong grabbed his arm.

The sudden movement made Xu Cong pull harder than intended, tugging at Xia Yan’s sleeve and causing the fabric on his shoulder to loosen. A small patch of skin on the side of Xia Yan’s neck was exposed, revealing a red, swollen area under the light.

Xu Cong’s expression immediately turned serious. “The side effects are acting up again?”

Xia Yan pressed his lips together.

In the brief delay, the pain spreading through his body had intensified. Under the light spilling from the room, his face appeared pale, save for his faintly flushed lips.

There was no denying it now. A muffled “Mm” escaped his throat.

Without asking further, Xu Cong pulled him inside.

“Come in. I’ll help you.”

Xia Yan didn’t have a chance to resist. The door to Xu Cong’s room slammed shut with a thud.

Just as Xia Yan opened his mouth to speak, Xu Cong wrapped him in a firm embrace.

His back pressed against the door, and Xu Cong stood close, leaving no space between them. The faint scent of sandalwood enveloped him, lingering close, soft and invasive as it intertwined with him, working to soothe his condition.

Xia Yan’s voice caught in his throat.

He couldn’t control himself from absorbing the pheromones radiating from Xu Cong.

He had never found anything as intoxicatingly pleasant as Xu Cong’s scent.

Quiet and profound, it evoked the image of a lush, damp forest, hiding a winding stream within.

Before his differentiation, he had thought the scent was nice, maybe akin to a good cologne.

But now, that scent felt like the cursed sunlight that lured moths to their doom.

Once he encountered it, he couldn’t resist the urge to bury himself in Xu Cong’s embrace, like an addict wanting to immerse himself completely.

How utterly humiliating.

Xia Yan thought this expressionlessly.

But his hands betrayed him, clutching tightly onto Xu Cong’s sleeve.

The two stood stiffly by the door for several minutes.

Xu Cong lightly rested a hand on Xia Yan’s shoulder.

Noticing Xia Yan’s damp hair sticking to the back of his neck, he instinctively reached out to brush it aside, inadvertently grazing the skin there.

Xia Yan shuddered involuntarily.

“Are you feeling better now?” Xu Cong asked in a low voice.

Because of his weakened state, Xia Yan’s knees were slightly bent, making him shorter than Xu Cong. As Xu Cong leaned down to speak, his breath brushed against Xia Yan’s ear.

Xia Yan’s wrists trembled at the sensation.

He shot Xu Cong a near-irritated glare, entirely unreasonable.

Xu Cong was baffled by the look.

Fortunately, Xia Yan quickly loosened the sash of his robe himself. The silk fabric slipped off his shoulders, revealing a pale, bare back.

Inspecting himself, Xia Yan muttered, “I think it doesn’t hurt as much as before, but the swelling hasn’t gone down, and my gland still aches.”

Leaning against the door, his voice was still weak and unsteady.

“I also feel a bit nauseous. I don’t know if it’s from the pheromones or because I drank too much tonight.”

He sounded guilty saying this.

Both Dr. Li and Dr. Tu had advised him to drink only in moderation. Tonight, Bai Yu had even tried to stop him, but he’d brushed the warning aside.

It was likely the alcohol that intensified his current condition.

Xu Cong stared at Xia Yan in silence.

As Xia Yan spoke, his robe hung loosely from his arms, leaving his upper body exposed under the light—revealing straight shoulders, elegant collarbones, a flexible waist, and faintly defined abdominal muscles.

Due to the pain, his brows were furrowed, and his eyes held a trace of weariness and frustration. The robe pooled around his waist, making the scene more provocative than if he had been completely undressed.

He looked just like the BJD dolls Xu Cong’s niece collected—so impeccably beautiful that it felt surreal, like a forest spirit from the mountains, distant and aloof, yet exuding an alluring charm in every detail.

Xu Cong awkwardly averted his gaze.

But from his observation of Xia Yan’s condition, he had to suggest, “Given your current situation, just the pheromone infiltration might not be enough. Do you need me to temporarily mark you?”

He was seriously asking Xia Yan.

However, as soon as he spoke those words, Xia Yan’s body froze.