Drunk On The Night Breeze - Chapter 10

Chapter 10

An Omega’s nape.

Tao Zhi felt as if he had been transported back to the day he first met Ruan Lingfeng. That day, sitting below the stage, the Omega’s pheromones had swirled around the tip of his nose. Mentally, he had been repulsed, yet instinct had forced his body to feel a shuddering jolt, like an electric shock.

He had been sitting on pins and needles that day. Now, even though the Omega wasn’t doing anything out of line, Tao Zhi began to feel restless and uneasy all over again.

The truth was, Tao Zhi suffered from O-phobia.

It wasn’t a figure of speech; it was a genuine medical condition. General contact with Omegas didn’t necessarily disrupt his daily life, but if an Omega got too close—if there was any form of intimate physical contact—he would suffer a stress response.

Dizziness. Nausea. The sour taste of acid rising in his throat.

He wasn’t born with it. Tao Zhi had consulted doctors who confirmed his physiological functions were perfectly normal; the root was psychological.

An unpleasant upbringing, frequent harassment during his days in the band… a thousand petty, grinding things added up.

“Heart sickness requires heart medicine,” the doctor had said, suggesting psychological counseling. Tao Zhi, in the end, hadn’t listened.

He figured he didn’t have a pressing need to interact with Omegas anyway. Whether physically or emotionally, he didn’t believe he needed another person to survive. So be it—he’d just stay away from them.

Until he met Ruan Lingfeng.

Actually, when he smelled Ruan Lingfeng’s pheromones in the conference room that first day, Tao Zhi expected a full-blown relapse. But it didn’t happen. Instead, he had the normal reaction an Alpha should have when surrounded by an Omega’s scent.

He had been angry—mostly at Ruan Lingfeng’s perceived lack of propriety—but a part of that anger was panic at his own unfamiliar state.

He was supposed to have O-phobia.

Fortunately, their subsequent interactions had been normal. They kept a safe distance, discussed work, and Tao Zhi had almost forgotten the issue entirely.

But today… they were a bit too close.

And yet, there was no stress response.

He felt he needed to see a doctor again. He didn’t know what was happening, only that his “illness” seemed to have cured itself without medicine.

If that were the case, it should have been a good thing, but Tao Zhi didn’t feel particularly happy about it.

His gaze fell on that exposed patch of skin. Instinct made him think: an Omega’s nape is fragile. After all, the glands are located there; an Alpha marks an Omega by biting into those glands and injecting pheromones.

But his logic pulled him back, filling him with self-loathing for such instincts.

An Alpha controlled by instinct was nothing good. Couldn’t this Ruan Lingfeng have a shred of self-preservation?

Or was this what he wanted? After all, he had released his pheromones at Tao Zhi from the very beginning.

Tao Zhi hated this feeling.

“So annoying,” Tao Zhi muttered under his breath.

Ruan Lingfeng finally looked up, his eyes filled with confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Tao Zhi flared up again for no reason. “None of your business. Stop talking.”

Ruan Lingfeng: “…”

The atmosphere at their table was completely at odds with the noisy bustle of the rest of the shop. Neither said a word, looking for all the world like two strangers forced to share a table.

Both were lost in their own complicated thoughts.

Ruan Lingfeng also felt that things were slightly off.

An Alpha had looked him in the eye and sang a song, claiming it was inspired by their ride together, with lyrics that seemingly included his name…

Ruan Lingfeng was nearly thirty. He had been pursued by plenty of Alphas and Betas. If any other Alpha had done this, Ruan Lingfeng would be certain they were interested in him.

But this was Tao Zhi. Ruan Lingfeng could easily conclude that this moody idiot was just acting on a whim.

Regardless, those few lines of lyrics had stirred some subtle emotions in him.

Under the circumstances, he found it hard to strike up a conversation, so he let the silence and awkwardness stretch between them.

Until a phone call broke the tension. Tao Zhi answered. Ruan Lingfeng couldn’t hear the specifics, only Tao Zhi’s impatient “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” and “Fine, I get it.” He hung up and stood up. “We’re done eating.”

Ruan Lingfeng asked, “What happened?”

“A video of me singing is already being uploaded,” Tao Zhi said. “I just got chewed out by my manager. He asked where I am and told me to get back to my place immediately.”

Ruan Lingfeng had expected as much. He glanced toward the fans who had been listening earlier.

Tao Zhi added, “It wasn’t them. They’re real fans; they don’t want to cause me trouble, so they haven’t posted yet. It was some other passerby in the shop.”

“It’s a bit late for hindsight,” Ruan Lingfeng said, “but I was wondering if I should have stopped them from recording.”

“Stop them for what? I wanted them to film,” Tao Zhi raised an eyebrow. “I sounded great. A scene like that needs to go viral for some marketing heat, right?”

Ruan Lingfeng had almost forgotten that Tao Zhi was someone who loved buying trending spots for his own songs. He was momentarily speechless. “…You’re right.”

“Chen Ping is making a mountain out of a molehill,” Tao Zhi continued. “But whatever, I’ll listen to him this time. Let’s go.”

Ruan Lingfeng agreed. Even if fans didn’t swarm them, sitting there in silence was becoming agonizingly awkward.

The two walked out of the noodle shop one after the other, the bowl of seafood noodles left unfinished. Tao Zhi walked ahead, waving a casual goodbye to the fans while fiddling with his phone.

Once at the entrance, Ruan Lingfeng was about to say he’d call a car himself, but Tao Zhi spoke first.

“I called a car for you. I’ll wait with you at the intersection; it’s coming now. It can’t get into the alley… If you’d told me sooner you were afraid of motorcycles, I wouldn’t have brought the bike.”

“I didn’t know you were coming on a bike,” Ruan Lingfeng blinked, surprised that Tao Zhi was still dwelling on that. “…Thanks. And I wasn’t ‘afraid,’ exactly. Your driving is… fine.”

“Just fine?” Tao Zhi huffed. “Next time, tell me things in advance.”

“Next time?”

As they walked, before Tao Zhi could answer, the car arrived.

Tao Zhi urged him, “Hurry up and get in.”

Ruan Lingfeng: “…Then, get home safe.”

Tao Zhi frowned. “Stop nagging.”

Ruan Lingfeng said no more and got into the car. He saw Tao Zhi linger for a moment, head down, still messing with his phone.

A moment later, Ruan Lingfeng’s phone buzzed with a WeChat message.

Tao Zhi: The urge to sing just hit me. That bowl of noodles got cold and soggy anyway, probably tasted like crap. That idiot Chen Ping had to call me back so I couldn’t finish it. I’ll take you out again next time.

As the car slowly pulled onto the main road, Ruan Lingfeng looked back. Tao Zhi gave him a lazy wave before turning around—likely heading back into the alley to retrieve his bike.

Ruan Lingfeng read the message again.

It was their very first message that had absolutely nothing to do with work.