Lance deliberately got himself soaked through.
First, to cool down; second, because a wretched appearance would help him avoid revealing his true condition to others.
He arrived at the freshman dormitory dripping wet, his T-shirt wrinkled, trouser legs clinging to his calves, water dripping even from his eyelashes.
His face showed an abnormal flush, his breathing uneven, his body trembling slightly, as if the night rain had penetrated his skin and he was about to fall ill with fever.
Lance was extremely skilled at disguise, particularly at feigning weakness, but at this moment it wasn’t an act—pheromone chaos was genuinely torturing him.
The dormitory building was the most remote structure at Star University, separated by just one wall from the famous Giant Lizard Park of Capital City. The building stood over ten stories tall, with the top floor often shrouded in a thin mist.
The overall shape of the building was cylindrical, rising straight and tall from bottom to top. The central circular atrium had a diameter of five hundred meters, with a large crescent-shaped lawn encircling the center, where students could train and play in their leisure time.
The dormitory manager raised her eyelids, examining Lance up and down with her jaundiced eyeballs. After a while, she paused the TV drama on her computer and complained unhappily: “Why are you reporting so late?”
She completely ignored Lance’s neck concealed by the silk ribbon, the bloodstains on his T-shirt, and his chaotically overflowing pheromones.
Lance pressed the back of his hand against his mouth and nose, coughing uncomfortably several times, then lowered his eyes, nervously rubbing his palms, as if hiding something difficult to express. Like a thief covering his ears while stealing a bell, he tightened the ribbon.
The dormitory manager’s gaze fixed on his slender, vulnerable neck. The thin layer of silk ribbon couldn’t conceal the scent of pheromones at all, and the sweet star magnolia fragrance quickly permeated the small gatehouse.
At this age, pheromones had a quality like newly opened flower petals—pure yet astringent, not only lacking any aggression but carrying a subtle, unconscious allure.
Being at Star University with star magnolia pheromones while looking weak and easily bullied—he had all the buffs stacked.
The dormitory manager’s eyes immediately filled with disgust. Looking at him like this, who knew which Alpha he’d been fooling around with.
“There’s only one room left. This year, really… Dean Erdiff is too soft-hearted, not a single room left empty. Here, 304.” The dormitory manager tossed the key to Lance, then drooped her eyelids to watch her TV drama.
She was afraid Lance wouldn’t understand the rules and would come back to her with nonsense about not wanting to share a room with an Alpha, or about being just molested.
What a joke. Star University wasn’t a kindergarten. Coming here to study meant understanding that the school only taught courses; safety issues were the students’ own responsibility.
As long as public property wasn’t damaged and the school’s reputation wasn’t affected, administrators would turn a blind eye.
Things like A/O separate dormitories that only increased workload simply didn’t exist at Star University.
So every year, students accidentally got pregnant and took leave mid-term, or hot-tempered Omegas “accidentally” crushed an Alpha’s eggs, requiring emergency medical attention.
Of course, they all left school citing inability to continue their studies.
However, Lance didn’t ask about his roommate’s awakened level or gender. He had the bewilderment appropriate for a freshman, as if he couldn’t think that deeply yet. He clutched the key, eyes lowered, dragging his continuously dripping clothes, trembling as he walked toward the elevator, leaving a glistening water trail on the marble floor tiles.
The dormitory manager maliciously muttered behind him: “Pah, little vixen, letting your pheromones loose to seduce people everywhere, pretending to be pitiful.”
Hearing the words “pretending to be pitiful,” Lance, with his back to the security camera, lowered his cap brim and forced a smile despite his discomfort.
What a pity—if Erdiff had been half as perceptive as the dormitory manager, he wouldn’t have lost his life so easily.
However, he soon couldn’t smile anymore. The stabilizer he had taken not long ago began to wear off, his consciousness gradually becoming dizzy, and his gland burning and stinging from overuse.
Every time Lance summoned the Outer God, he paid a certain price. Sometimes he couldn’t sleep, constantly tormented by mental contamination. Other times it was pheromone chaos, persistent high fever, and unbearable pain, requiring large doses of painkillers that were like drinking poison to quench thirst. Sometimes both occurred together.
These symptoms often lasted a month before completely disappearing. Pain seemed to be the only way to obtain power.
However, he had been accustomed to it since childhood.
By the time Lance found Room 304, he was almost at his limit of endurance. He aimed the key at the keyhole, even clearly feeling his fingers trembling.
The lock was gradually picked, and the bolt in the door latch retracted.
Lance forced himself to stay alert, reminding himself that once inside, he needed to find an opportunity to get close to his new roommate and silently place the Moth Rong Weng on them. Once they were taken away due to fulminant myocarditis, he would notify the clown to transport him back.
High Tower Guild had treatment pods for guild members, which would be more comfortable.
The only trouble would be Chairman Lan’s crying and complaining.
The door lock sprang open.
Lance took a deep breath, placed his palm on the door, and pushed inward. The warm yellow light from inside spilled out, illuminating his damp eyelashes.
There was a warm moisture in the air that hit his face, but before the door gap could widen further, a force from inside suddenly pulled the door open.
“Need something?”
Lance was caught off guard and momentarily dazed.
The person before him had obviously just been showering and hadn’t had time to dry off. His dripping Adam’s apple and exceptionally fine muscle lines were exposed before Lance without any covering.
There were many members with good physiques in High Tower Guild, but few as excellent as the person before him. It was evident that he exercised regularly. The taut, powerful Adonis belt disappeared beneath the towel at his waist, and within that small area was an unmistakable, overly obvious male characteristic. His long fingers rested casually and openly on his arms. Rich hormones seemed to overflow from every tense vein. If he wanted, these hands could easily lift an adult Omega by the waist.
Everything before him was a tremendous test for an Omega in pheromone chaos.
A drop of cold sweat rolled down Lance’s temple. He was very grateful he hadn’t rashly released the Moth Rong Weng; with S-level reaction ability, he would definitely have been exposed.
Zhan Pingchuan raised an eyebrow: “It’s you.”
Even before Lance unlocked the door, Zhan Pingchuan had detected something unusual.
His senses were extremely sharp, and he clearly felt a faint scent of star magnolia drifting from outside the door. These pheromones were chaotic, disordered, not the state of normal release. Without a doubt, the person had encountered trouble.
But Zhan Pingchuan had no interest in meddling. He had come to Star University to kidnap Erdiff, not to rectify school discipline.
Yet now, seeing Lance before him, he suddenly developed some interest in school discipline.
Lance was soaked by the rain. His white T-shirt collar had diluted bloodstains, and traces of mud remained at his trouser cuffs. His neck was tightly wrapped with a silk ribbon, but it still couldn’t prevent the leakage of pheromones.
He seemed feverish, his skin showing an abnormal flush. There were physiological tears in his eyes from pain, and his hair clung messily to his cheeks, like a small wild cat unable to find shelter on a rainy night.
It would be abrupt to directly inquire about his predicament. Zhan Pingchuan discreetly released some soothing pheromones. A faint scent of gentian bitterness spread out, forcefully enveloping the rampaging star magnolia fragrance.
“Do you want to take a shower?” he asked casually.
Omegas in pheromone chaos were troublesome. They became extremely irritable and angry, attempting to bare their claws and attack anyone who approached them. But while being highly aggressive, they were also particularly prone to feeling wronged, with tears falling like broken strings of beads at the slightest provocation, impossible to console.
Normally, Zhan Pingchuan would avoid such Omegas.
Upon first detecting the Alpha pheromones, Lance indeed became agitated. His eyes darkened, his canine teeth grinding, as the Moth Rong Weng quickly crawled from his palm to his fingertips.
He thought to himself, “Looking for death.”
However, when their pheromones met, Lance’s expression suddenly became somewhat incredulous.
By nature, he liked sweetness and disliked bitterness, yet he felt no aversion to Zhan Pingchuan’s pheromones. He even somewhat craved this intense bitter fragrance.
A tremor came from deep within his bones, making Lance unable to control himself, nearly falling weak-kneed.
“You…” Zhan Pingchuan’s eyes deepened. He certainly perceived Lance’s reaction. An Omega showing a dazed expression because of his pheromones, even physically trembling slightly—this was nothing short of the greatest encouragement to an Alpha.
This level of reaction meant the pheromone compatibility between them was quite high.
Lance’s face changed slightly as he gritted his teeth to steady himself. He certainly understood that the other had released soothing pheromones that had a very strong effect on him!
In a flash, he quickly changed his plan.
Lance’s temples were damp, his breathing rapid, his eyes lowered.
“Could you… help me with something?”
Zhan Pingchuan almost instantly understood Lance’s meaning.
What a joke. If the eldest young master of Ghost Eye Guild marked an Omega, it would definitely be explosive news back home. Moreover, was he such a casual person?
Two seconds later—
Zhan Pingchuan silently and decisively picked up the Omega covered in rain and mud, tossed him onto the bed, then mercilessly pinned down his delicate, pale hands.
Lance indeed glared angrily, struggling to break free from the restraint.
Zhan Pingchuan simply inserted his fingers directly and forcefully between Lance’s, firmly holding him down again, restraining himself as he said in a deep voice: “Don’t move.”
Soon, even richer soothing pheromones arrived, instantly surrounding Lance completely, like a dying person in the desert falling into a cool, clear oasis. Lance breathed heavily, desperately inhaling.
But this wasn’t enough.
Lance squirmed restlessly in Zhan Pingchuan’s arms, his legs rubbing forcefully against the dry sheets. He kept arching his back to press against Zhan Pingchuan’s abs, then when the pheromones became too intense, he would pitifully bare his sharp teeth and bite Zhan Pingchuan’s shoulder.
Zhan Pingchuan drew in a sharp breath, his eyes darkening as he chuckled. Then he roughly parted Lance’s legs with his knee, forcing Lance to look at him with moist eyes.
“Be good, or I won’t help you anymore.”
Lance’s eyes were wet and glistening, seemingly unable to understand the threat for a moment, but he could generally grasp Zhan Pingchuan’s irritated mood.
So he suppressed his nature and, as if to seduce, rubbed his nose tip against Zhan Pingchuan’s prominent Adam’s apple. There was still an undried water droplet on that Adam’s apple that was truly eye-catching. Without thinking, Lance curled his tongue and took the droplet into his mouth.
Zhan Pingchuan’s lower abdomen tightened, his gaze darkening further.
“Good boy.” He freed a hand to stroke Lance’s back encouragingly, then leaned down to kiss his earlobe, which was red enough to drip blood.
Lance tilted his head, and the two finely polished turquoise pendants pressed against his cheek, lightly grazing the skin beneath his eyes, recklessly leaving behind the wildness of the Tibetan plateau.
They both knew this was a necessary step to soothe pheromone chaos.
But for complete recovery, the Alpha needed to leave his pheromones inside the Omega’s body.
Lance struggled to pull at the silk ribbon around his neck with his fingers. The ribbon was stained with blood, and his fingertips were also smeared with blood.
But perhaps because it was tied in too many layers, it was difficult to pull off at once. He became exasperated, even turning his head and trying to align his gland with Zhan Pingchuan.
He needed a temporary mark to regain his sanity.
Zhan Pingchuan caught Lance’s frantically pulling hand and fixed his gaze on that small, fragile organ beneath the ribbon, but didn’t move.
An Alpha would only give a temporary mark to his own Omega. After marking, the Alpha would inevitably develop a sense of control and possessiveness toward the Omega, which could even affect the Omega’s daily life.
“…Bite me.” Physiological tears rolled uncontrollably down Lance’s face, but at the same time, he was prepared. Once Zhan Pingchuan completed the mark, he would make his move.
In this position, he could place the Moth Rong Weng on Zhan Pingchuan’s back without being detected. By the time Zhan Pingchuan realized, he would likely be unconscious and sent to the hospital.
Lance never denied being ruthless, cold-blooded, and merciless. Without such thunderous methods, how could an F-level like him have taken over the Black Lantern Society from Chairman Lan?
“Relax.” Zhan Pingchuan’s voice was hoarse as his hand moved up along Lance’s spine. The warmth of his palm transmitted through the T-shirt, causing Lance’s back muscles to tremble continuously.
While soothing Lance, he extended two fingers and pinched the edge of the ribbon.
Lance’s hair was long. Zhan Pingchuan used his other hand to brush aside the damp hair, then applied a little force with his two fingers, pulling down a large section of the ribbon covering the gland.
Lance closed his eyes and bit the quilt.
However, Zhan Pingchuan’s gaze suddenly darkened. His eyes seemed to hide a mass of impenetrable black fog, and at this moment, his desire to kill even overshadowed the craving controlled by pheromones.
“Who did this?”
The scratches on Lance’s neck were somewhat whitened from soaking, with clearly visible broken skin. Even the gland area wasn’t spared, appearing red, swollen, and inflamed.
Lance’s eyelashes trembled, but he didn’t answer. He knew the marks on his neck were very misleading. Combined with his chaotic pheromones and feverish body, it was easy to imagine he had been bullied and oppressed by a high-level Alpha’s pheromones.
This fit well with the first impression he gave people—docile and easily bullied.
Lance certainly wouldn’t say he had scratched himself, but unfortunately, he didn’t see Zhan Pingchuan’s expression in that instant. Otherwise, he would have suspected that this person’s outwardly displayed laziness and cynicism were also a disguise.
Sensing Lance’s reluctance to speak, Zhan Pingchuan composed himself and struggled to suppress his possessiveness.
This wasn’t even his Omega; what was this inexplicable jealousy about?
He finally completely untied the ribbon, fully exposing the slightly reddened gland. Under the warm yellow light, that area of skin was delicate and smooth, slightly raised, emitting a sweet warmth that made one’s mouth go dry.
Lance knew what would happen next.
Even though he was usually calm and good at enduring pain, he couldn’t help but shrink back a little.
Although he didn’t care much about propriety or shame, this was indeed the first time since his differentiation that someone had touched his gland.
Pheromone chaos made one feel wronged, and being marked made one feel even more so.
He had heard that marking required the Alpha to bite through the skin of the gland, forcibly injecting pheromones inside. During this process, the Omega might struggle violently, experiencing pain and bleeding, but the Alpha would firmly hold the Omega down, not allowing escape until the entire marking process was complete.
Lance could control his expression but not his body’s reactions. All his muscles tensed up, sweat flowed down his temples, and he even held his breath.
Although he didn’t want to admit it, he was afraid. He could endure any amount of physical pain, endure the fear and mental contamination that the Outer God had brought him since childhood, but he feared the invasion of unfamiliar pheromones into his body. This gave him an extreme sense of insecurity.
Lance bit down on his teeth, cold sweat sliding from his eyelids into his eyes, tears dampening that small patch of bedding.
The ribbon was tossed to the ground, very lightly, and Lance’s nerves trembled.
He convinced himself, just once, it would soon—
“There, don’t be afraid. No marking.” A deep, gentle coaxing sounded by his ear.
There was no pain of biting through the gland, no fear of being invaded. Zhan Pingchuan’s warm, dry palm covered that area, caressing it tenderly.
And the next moment, Lance’s chin was lifted and he was kissed without room for refusal. The powerful S-level pheromones were fed to his tongue tip along their joined lips and teeth.
Lance was suddenly stunned, his fingers suspended in mid-air abruptly curled, taking the Moth Rong Weng back into his palm.
##
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