Afraid of Alphas, but Pregnant with an Alpha’s Child - Chapter 8

The university food street was a chaotic swarm of people. It was so crowded and noisy that driving was impossible; they had no choice but to park and head in on foot.

Before getting out of the car, Jiang Qiu had expected Lu Mingshen to take one look at the environment and turn right back around. To his surprise, the man showed no reaction and stepped out without hesitation.

Jiang Qiu had picked a local “hole-in-the-wall” joint a neighborhood eatery run by a husband-and-wife team. During peak hours, the place was packed with university students and locals. They were lucky; having arrived slightly early, they managed to snag the last available table just before the dinner rush. Jiang Qiu took charge of the ordering while Lu Mingshen left the menu entirely up to him.

“I wasn’t sure about your preferences, so I just ordered the bestsellers,” Jiang Qiu said. “Sweet and sour pork, double-cooked snakehead fish, home-style tofu, and stir-fried asparagus. I asked for no spice; I hope that’s okay.”

Lu Mingshen was a local through and through. He wasn’t a picky eater, though he preferred lighter flavors and usually avoided anything too greasy or spicy. Jiang Qiu’s choices were perfectly suited to his palate.

Since only the owners were working, the service was a bit slow. For two people in such a nuanced relationship, waiting was the hardest part.

Lu Mingshen sat with his head down, dealing with messages on his phone. His posture was relaxed but not sloppy. He had taken off his suit jacket, leaving only a crisp, deep-gray shirt that emphasized his broad frame. He carried a natural “don’t come near me” aura that hadn’t faded even in this casual setting. People passing by instinctively tilted their bodies away, giving him a wide berth after all, those TV tropes about “you can’t afford to replace this suit” didn’t come from nowhere.

When the sweet and sour pork finally arrived, Lu Mingshen set his phone aside. A flicker of exhaustion crossed his eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. He loosened his tie and offered an apology: “Sorry, just some work matters. Let’s eat.”

He took Jiang Qiu’s bowl and utensils, rinsed them with hot water, and dried them carefully before handing them back.

The pork was steaming hot crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, and perfectly balanced between sweet and sour. Jiang Qiu took a bite, then cautiously peeked at the man across from him.

“It’s delicious,” Lu Mingshen said.

Relieved, Jiang Qiu decided it was time for a serious update. “Mr. Lu, I’d like to share an update on my recovery with you.”

Lu Mingshen generally disliked being interrupted during meals. It seemed that eating was the only time he allowed himself to be fully immersed and undisturbed even if he wasn’t exactly a gourmet. Yet, Jiang Qiu had interrupted him twice now.

To many, a meal was a time for business, and Lu Mingshen seemed genuinely interested in this particular business. He showed a surprising amount of patience for the man in front of him. He set down his chopsticks and handed Jiang Qiu a napkin. “Go on.”

Jiang Qiu repeated what Dr. Chen had told him, tactfully omitting the part about Lu being the “root cause.”

“Constantly running away from problems isn’t the answer, which is why I’ve been doing desensitization therapy for five years,” Jiang Qiu said gently. “But… and this might be a bit much to ask… when you’re at home, could you perhaps take off your suppressant bracelet? The doctor said that learning to be around a higher-level Alpha pheromone would help me recover faster.”

He looked slightly embarrassed, as if he felt he was imposing. He seemed like the type who needed explicit reassurance before he could feel comfortable.

At first, Lu Mingshen thought that was just Jiang Qiu’s personality. But he eventually realized Jiang Qiu only acted this way around him—he was much more natural with Assistant Xu.

Lu Mingshen nodded. “Of course.” Then, he sighed softly. “Jiang Qiu, do you really have to be so formal with me?”

Jiang Qiu’s internal “fur” practically stood on end. He immediately started mentally retracing his steps, wondering if he had said something rude to offend him. I thought I was being quite polite…

“You don’t need to be so courteous,” Lu Mingshen added.

The rest of the food had arrived. The owner’s wife, assuming the young couple was having a spat, stood behind Lu Mingshen and gave Jiang Qiu a supportive wink and a nod.

Unaware, Lu Mingshen continued, “You can be more casual. After all, we’ll be living together for the next ten years, maybe longer. I don’t want Chengcheng picking up on this distance.”

Jiang Qiu had a moment of realization. Lu was right; it wouldn’t be good if Chengcheng started acting distant because of him. “I understand, Mr. Lu. I’ll be more relaxed at home, though I’ll still maintain proper boundaries in public.”

Lu Mingshen: “…” Whatever makes you happy.

With the tension cleared, the rest of the meal was much lighter. Afterward, Jiang Qiu got up to pay. The owner’s wife remembered him and was about to strike up a conversation when Jiang Qiu’s phone rang. He smiled apologetically and handed the phone to Lu Mingshen, who was walking toward him.

He mouthed: Can you get this for me? He pressed his hands together in a “pretty please” gesture.

Lu Mingshen took the phone without a word. It was an unrecognized number with a suspicious-looking string of digits clearly a scam call.

As soon as he answered, a young man’s voice came through, sounding calm and scripted: “Hello, am I speaking with Mr. Jiang Qiu? I’m calling from the Omega Relief Center. Our records show your child has enrolled in the Little Universe Bilingual International Preschool—”

The caller paused when he heard a deep, masculine voice instead of the clear, soft tone he expected. “Mr. Jiang?”

Jiang Qiu had just finished listening to the owner’s daughter talk about her studies in Germany when he saw Lu Mingshen walking toward him with a dark expression. They wound through the street stalls and got back into the car in grim silence.

The staff at the relief center had asked a barrage of questions. Why isn’t Chengcheng coming to our preschool? He grew up here; he has a sense of belonging. Is there a problem? We see the father’s name is listed as Lu, an Alpha… Is your phobia completely cured? Do you have an income? Are you back in school? Can you afford the tuition? Our school is only 1,500 a semester…

Lu Mingshen blankly hung up. As the “registered Alpha,” he felt it was high time for a visit to the center.

Fifteen minutes later, the black Maybach pulled up in front of the Omega Relief Center.

The place was exactly as Lu Mingshen remembered it from his previous visits: filled with the cold, unpleasant scent of disinfectant. Despite not being a hospital, doctors and nurses in white coats and uniforms bustled about with numb, expressionless faces. Occasionally, a faint, sharp scream would echo through the halls, only to be swallowed by an immediate silence.

Jiang Qiu’s footsteps faltered. An indescribable fear began to rise within him. When he was first diagnosed with Alpha Phobia, it was much worse; he couldn’t stand being near an Alpha, and even ordinary Betas triggered him because he was afraid they might be Alphas in disguise.

The doctors here weren’t as gentle as Dr. Chen. He had spent two miserable years here before being cleared for discharge. Usually, when he came here, it was to see his son, so his joy outweighed his fear. But today, returning to this place without Chengcheng, the familiar dread and dizziness surged back, making his knees weak.

The staff member leading the way stopped and smiled politely. “Mr. Jiang?”

Jiang Qiu was pale. He instinctively reached for the wall, but a firm, steady force caught him first. Lu Mingshen rested one hand lightly on his shoulder. With the other, he found Jiang Qiu’s clenched fist. He gently stroked those white-knuckled fingers until they loosened, finally holding Jiang Qiu’s index finger in a loose grip one that Jiang Qiu could pull away from at any time.

“You can lean on me for now,” Lu Mingshen said, his voice flat and steady.

“I’m fine,” Jiang Qiu shook his head.

“Mr. Lu? Is that Mr. Lu Mingshen?” a female voice called out from down the hall. “The hard copy of your paternity report is ready! I was just about to call you to come pick it up.”

Lu Mingshen started to decline, but Jiang Qiu tugged at his sleeve. “Go get it. I’ll wait for you in the office.”

Seeing Lu frown, Jiang Qiu tried to reassure him. “It’s okay. I’ve been here a hundred times.”

Lu Mingshen eventually nodded and turned to leave. After two steps, he stopped, turned back, and grabbed Jiang Qiu’s hand. Jiang Qiu looked up in confusion as something was pressed into his palm. Before he could ask, Lu Mingshen was already walking away.

He opened his hand. It was a chocolate.

…Maybe he thinks I have low blood sugar, Jiang Qiu thought, slipping the candy into his pocket.

Once he reached the office, the noise of the outside world vanished, replaced by a vast, white silence. The doctor behind the desk was a new face, wearing a practiced smile. “Hello, Mr. Jiang. I’m Dr. Wang.”

He moved to shake Jiang Qiu’s hand, but seeing the younger man’s state, he gracefully withdrew. “I heard Chengcheng has started at a new preschool. Is everything going well?”

“It’s good…” It’s only the first day, Jiang Qiu thought.

“Ah, well, children don’t always tell the truth about how they feel. They might be unhappy but too shy to say anything. You should take a look at our new preschool here at the center. The tuition is only 1,500 a month—very reasonable. Most of the kids are Omegas, so you don’t have to worry about bullying. We also offer training on secondary differentiation, how to handle heat cycles, and so on…”

Jiang Qiu: “…” So you’re the chatty one who called!

Teaching preschoolers how to handle heat cycles? Was that really okay?

Jiang Qiu looked troubled but pretended to listen intently. Dr. Wang, satisfied with his potential “mark,” continued to drone on. He didn’t notice the sound of a chocolate wrapper being quietly torn open.

While Dr. Wang turned to grab a brochure, Jiang Qiu popped the chocolate into his mouth. It was a flavor he’d never had before silky, not too sweet, with a hint of hazelnut. He suddenly wanted another one.

Dr. Wang handed him the brochure. “You can look this over.”

The price listed was 2,800.

“Chengcheng said he liked it at the daycare, so I don’t think he’s lying,” Jiang Qiu said. “And didn’t you say the tuition was 1,500?” Why did the price jump just now?

“Ahem,” Dr. Wang cleared his throat. “1,500 is the internal price; I was going to get to that. Speaking of which, international schools aren’t cheap. You definitely can’t cover that on your own…”

He stopped mid-sentence. The office door was pushed open, and a tall figure stepped inside. The man sat down next to Jiang Qiu and leaned in to whisper something. He was wearing a black suit jacket and a deep gray shirt—expensive fabric, no tie. He was lean but powerful, with the kind of build that came from years of consistent exercise.

Dr. Wang’s eyes drifted down to the man’s wrist: a deep blue Patek Philippe… and a very understated, unbranded bracelet. It looked like a bespoke piece from some high-end, niche artist.

In an instant, Dr. Wang estimated the man’s net worth: immeasurable and untouchable.

The background check didn’t say Jiang Qiu was married? A boyfriend? Such a rich boyfriend?

He immediately snatched back the preschool brochure. It was one thing to scam a “poor soul” like Jiang Qiu, but rich people especially smart-looking ones were not to be trifled with.

“Dr. Wang?”

The newcomer glanced at the doctor’s name tag and read it aloud. His voice was low and calm, with a subtle, chilling weight to it.

Dr. Wang immediately straightened up. “This must be Mr. Lu. Actually, there’s no major issue. We just saw the update to Chengcheng’s enrollment and wanted to check in.”

Lu Mingshen remained noncommittal.

Dr. Wang scrambled to fix the situation. “Oh, Chengcheng was so well-behaved here. He’s the cutest, smartest kid in the whole center…”

Jiang Qiu mentally calculated that Dr. Wang hadn’t been on the job for more than a month. But, realizing the struggle of a fellow worker, he bit his tongue.

As the meeting ended, Dr. Wang respectfully saw them out.

Once they were outside, Jiang Qiu sighed in relief. “Good thing I stood my ground. I didn’t let that ‘low tuition’ lure me in.”

“Mm. Thanks to you,” Lu Mingshen said as he buckled Jiang Qiu’s seatbelt. “I almost fell for it myself.”

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