Drunk On The Night Breeze - Chapter 30

Chapter 30

This kind of imagination was something Tao Zhi had never experienced before.

He had never wondered what a lover would be like if he had one. In fact, he had always felt he was insulated from romance—the objective reason being his “Omega-phobia.” Theoretically, other genders wouldn’t be out of the question, but he had zero interest in other Alphas or Betas either. He had thrown himself headlong into the career he loved; as long as he had music, it was enough to keep his mental world full.

He couldn’t understand why there were so many “obsessed men and resentful women” in the world. With so many interesting things to do, why tie one’s emotions to a specific person?

Specific people always come with specific flaws.

But music and the stage would never betray him.

He had never thought…

That a day would come when he would sit across from an Omega, feeling peace just by being near him and feeling anger because others hadn’t cherished him enough.

Tao Zhi knew he was finished. Perhaps he, too, was about to become one of those obsessed souls he once looked down upon. As this realization hit him, he thought that perhaps these feelings had taken root much earlier.

He remembered the night Ruan Lingfeng took him to see the moon. Now, he felt that Ruan Lingfeng was like that distant moon hanging in the sky, while his own heart was the tiderising and falling with the lunar gravity before he even realized it.

However, Tao Zhi still couldn’t figure out: why Ruan Lingfeng? He thought the probability of him falling for anyone was slim to none, and even if he did, someone like Ruan Lingfeng should have been impossible.

Initially, he wanted to stay away because Ruan Lingfeng was exactly the type of Omega he disliked most.

But after spending time together, he felt that Ruan Lingfeng wasn’t the flighty, irresponsible person he had imagined.

It was a contradiction.

But regardless of what kind of person Ruan Lingfeng was, Tao Zhi simply wanted to see him.

He wanted to make him happy.

And he wanted to find happiness through him.

After Ruan Lingfeng replied, Tao Zhi didn’t speak for a while, just staring at him. Ruan Lingfeng felt a bit awkward under the gaze: “Why do you keep looking at me… just eat your food.”

“So, do you like him?” Tao Zhi asked again.

Do you just muddle through together because there are no conflicts?

This question truly stumped Ruan Lingfeng. He actually paused to think. In the end, he didn’t say whether he liked the man or not, only: “In the beginning, he was very reliable, very steady, and treated me well… After being together for a long time, feelings develop, right?”

Tao Zhi didn’t know how to respond. He was dying of curiosity, yet asking only made him depressed. “Reliable” and “steady” were qualities that seemed to have absolutely nothing to do with himself.

Finally, he said: “Looking reliable and steady… doesn’t mean he likes you or treats you well. Did he really treat you well?”

Back when they first met, Tao Zhi had told Ruan Lingfeng that he had terrible taste in partners. At the time, Ruan Lingfeng found the kid annoying and felt only displeasure at the remark.

“Of course, I’m not blaming you. The one who deserves a scolding is that idiot. I just think…” Tao Zhi continued slowly, “I just think, next time you should find someone who truly likes you, treats you well… or is willing to learn how to treat you well. If it’s not a good fit, break up. Even if he hasn’t crossed your bottom line, there’s no need to just ‘muddle through’.”

Tao Zhi had almost stopped eating, but out of some inexplicable guilt while saying this, he started piling food into his bowl. He didn’t actually eat it; he just let it grow into a small mountain.

Ruan Lingfeng smiled and shook his head. “Many things don’t go the way you want… You’re still young; maybe you can’t understand that yet?”

Tao Zhi really hated it when Ruan Lingfeng said that. “…I’m not that young. I’m nineteen, almost twenty.”

“True.” Ruan Lingfeng responded, but internally he felt there was still a generation gap. Everyone wants to find a soulmate, but in the vast sea of people, where do you find one? Ruan Lingfeng asked back: “Stop talking about me. You have a lot of theories—how many partners have you had?”

Tao Zhi, a lifelong single: “…”

Tao Zhi shifted uncomfortably. “Just a few.”

Lying was bad, but Tao Zhi thought that since Ruan Lingfeng already viewed him as naive due to his age, admitting to a blank dating history would make him lose even more ground.

Ruan Lingfeng didn’t seem surprised. He crinkled his eyes and looked at him: “I figured. You must be very popular… Handsome, talented, a great singer, plays instruments, very cool. The little Omegas must all love you.”

Bullshit. Since he was a kid, Omegas usually ran away the moment they saw his grumpy face. Though since joining a band, there were always Omegas who wanted to sleep with him, Tao Zhi didn’t consider that “love.” His lead singer had once shown him fan group chats where people discussed things like: “I heard no one’s actually slept with him yet,” “He looks like he’d be a great lay, his personality sucks but it’d be worth it,” “I don’t know what he’s posing for, maybe he’s impotent?”… He didn’t feel happy about that kind of “popularity” at all; it just felt disgusting.

But it felt like Ruan Lingfeng was holding drumsticks—every compliment she tossed out was a heavy beat against his heart.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, but he eventually said: “If you keep up with the cringey flattery, I’m going to think you owe me money.”

“I’m not, I’m being sincere,” Ruan Lingfeng said, showing rare enthusiasm for gossip. “So, what kind of Omega do you like?”

Tao Zhi: “…”

Is this Omega flirting with me? He says he doesn’t like ‘little brothers,’ so why does he keep doing this?

Seeing Tao Zhi’s silence, Ruan Lingfeng added: “Did I ask too much? We were just talking, it’s fine if you don’t want to say.”

Tao Zhi was still thinking: He is definitely flirting with me.

And although he had just realized that he was… indeed fond of Ruan Lingfeng.

But regardless, he couldn’t let himself be played.

So, Tao Zhi gritted his teeth and deliberately described a type completely opposite to Ruan Lingfeng: “Someone younger than me, soft and sweet. Someone who acts spoiled, cries to me, and calls me ‘Gege’.”

After speaking, he feigned calm and watched Ruan Lingfeng’s reaction closely.

Ruan Lingfeng had no reaction. He simply said: “That preference… feels a bit ‘Alpha-supremacist’.”

Tao Zhi: “…” Damn it, his level is too high.

Nevertheless, Tao Zhi still felt that Ruan Lingfeng liked him.

In the past, he thought Ruan Lingfeng just had a vague favorable impression of him—actions that looked like “keeping fish in a pond.” But now, Ruan Lingfeng’s care had become tangible.

Ruan Lingfeng wasn’t just being polite when he told him to come over for meals. After that day, Ruan Lingfeng would occasionally message him saying things like, “I bought a huge fish today and can’t finish it alone,” asking if he wanted to come over.

Tao Zhi usually said yes and went. After a few times, Ruan Lingfeng didn’t even need to make excuses; Tao Zhi would proactively ask what was for dinner. Sometimes Ruan Lingfeng didn’t even cook; Tao Zhi was actually a good cook himself. Once, when Ruan Lingfeng was busy working overtime at home, Tao Zhi brought groceries over. Ruan Lingfeng typed away on his laptop in the living room while Tao Zhi made the kitchen sizzle with oil.

Besides eating, they watched movies together. Ruan Lingfeng eventually replaced the TV with a projector. With the lights off and curtains drawn, they would sit at opposite ends of the sofa and share two hours of quiet.

They even went to see other people’s performances—actually part of Ruan Lingfeng’s work, but Tao Zhi would tag along when he had time. Afterward, they could talk for hours about everything from musicality to stage effects.

Later, because he was tired of confirming if the other was home every time, Tao Zhi simply asked for the door code. Ruan Lingfeng gave it to him without much hesitation.

He even joked: “I really don’t know if this is my house or yours.”

Because Tao Zhi came so often, there was now a permanent pair of slippers and a water cup just for him.

Tao Zhi thought: If it’s like this, does it not count as dating? Except for the lack of physical intimacy… we’re close enough mentally. At least, I’ve never shared my inner world so defenselessly with anyone else.

But no one spoke up.

That day, Tao Zhi had planned to meet Ruan Lingfeng at the TV station. Their schedules overlapped; Ruan Lingfeng was working on a music variety show for a major satellite channel. The show wanted to win through unique staging, so Ruan Lingfeng was at the station every day. Tao Zhi was the guest for the latest episode.

They hadn’t agreed on it beforehand, but Tao Zhi figured Ruan Lingfeng would definitely be there. He was a workaholic who monitored every detail of the stage effects—especially since he was the guest today.

But when he arrived, Ruan Lingfeng was nowhere to be found. He asked around and was told Ruan Lingfeng had called in sick.

After recording the show, Tao Zhi called him. It took a while for Ruan Lingfeng to answer. He let out a “Hello,” his voice sounding truly weak.

Tao Zhi asked: “What happened? Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“…It was a bit sudden. I thought I’d be fine after a nap.”

“Did you take medicine?”

“Yes.”

“Are you feeling better?” Tao Zhi answered his own question. “You don’t sound better. What exactly is it?”

“A bit of a fever… maybe you can bring me some cooling patches.”

Tao Zhi: “…Okay.”

The production crew usually invited guests to dinner after filming, but Tao Zhi skipped it. Being naturally eccentric, no one was surprised when he didn’t show up.

He went to the pharmacy to buy medicine for cold and fever. He planned to check Ruan Lingfeng’s condition first and then call a doctor if needed.

He had wanted to say it before: no matter how healthy you are, you can’t handle constant overtime, all-nighters, and business trips. But since it was Ruan Lingfeng’s job, Tao Zhi felt he didn’t have the standing to nag.

I’ll take this chance to give him a piece of my mind.

…When he arrived at Ruan Lingfeng’s house, Tao Zhi realized it wasn’t a cold at all.

The moment he opened the door, a tidal wave of Omega pheromones hit him.

The Omega himself was sitting on the sofa in warm-colored loungewear, hugging a pillow. His cheeks were flushed with an abnormal feverish red, and his eyes looked like they held a pool of water—shimmering and hazy.

Tao Zhi: “…”

Ruan Lingfeng stood up unsteadily: “Thanks for bringing the cooling patches…”

Tao Zhi closed the door and, without even changing his shoes, walked up to him in a few strides: “Are you in Heat and you didn’t know? What ‘fever’?”

Ruan Lingfeng: “…What?”

“Fuck, you’re something else.” Tao Zhi couldn’t block the effect of the pheromones. He felt a fire starting to burn within himself, and he couldn’t help but let a bit of his own pheromones leak out.

Ruan Lingfeng was originally just uncomfortable but conscious. Suddenly, he smelled a pleasant scent of wine, and his mind instantly became blurred.

Tao Zhi saw the change in Ruan Lingfeng’s eyes and knew things were going south. He had been too anxious and forgot how much an Alpha’s pheromones would impact an Omega in Heat.

He was struggling too, but he tried his best to suppress his instincts. His mood remained sharp: “Where’s your suppressant?”

“…I don’t have that kind of thing.”

Tao Zhi’s head throbbed. He thought Ruan Lingfeng was talking nonsense, so he prepared to go through the medicine cabinet.

But before he could take a step, Ruan Lingfeng grabbed him.

Though he’d never been in a relationship, Tao Zhi hadn’t missed his biology classes. Omegas are fragile during Heat and don’t want to leave their Alpha… Even though he wasn’t his Alpha yet, Ruan Lingfeng liked him.

Tao Zhi took Ruan Lingfeng’s hand for the first time and coaxed him softly: “I’m not leaving. I’m going to find the suppressants for you.”

“I don’t have those,” Ruan Lingfeng repeated.

He didn’t know where the seemingly weak Omega got the strength, but with one shove, he pushed Tao Zhi down onto the sofa.

Ruan Lingfeng straddled Tao Zhi and leaned down to whisper in his ear: “Didi… hold me.”

“…” Tao Zhi heard his own breathing grow heavy, but he still restrained himself. “You aren’t conscious.”

But Ruan Lingfeng didn’t listen. He sniffed at Tao Zhi’s neck: “I like it so much…”

Tao Zhi’s voice dropped low: “Get off, now.”

Ruan Lingfeng smiled: “Don’t you know how? I’ll teach you.”

Ruan Lingfeng hugged him.

The string of reason snapped. Tao Zhi flipped him over and pinned him down. He could no longer stay rational… After all, their feelings were mutual, weren’t they?