Marked by an Enigma After a Pheromone Disorder - Chapter 5

Tang Shi stood before the cameras, acutely aware that every gaze in the vicinity was pinned to him. The chanting hadn’t subsided; if anything, it had grown more frenzied.

He retreated politely, following the host’s instructions to greet the camera with a gentle, disciplined grace. Ironically, the more reserved he acted, the more emboldened the Alphas became, surging forward as if to breach the stage.

“Xiao Tang baby hasn’t said hello to this side yet!”

Tang Shi pressed his slender legs together and turned with a polite smile.

“How can my goddess be even more beautiful in person? A true beauty really doesn’t need filters!”

“Goddess, I’ll follow you for life!”

“His skin looks so tender, like you could squeeze water out of it. I just want to touch the fragrant, soft Xiao Tang baby!”

“Move out of the way! I’m too far back, I can’t smell her scent!”

They sniffed and leaned in, looking as though they were about to pounce.

As an Alpha, Tang Shi’s primal instinct was one of resistance and hostility. A sharp, piercing scent of sourness cut through the air, carrying a warning of bitter-sweetness that only seemed to make the surrounding Alphas more volatile. They began eyeing each other with aggression, each assuming the other was the source of the hostile intent.

With five minutes until the next streamer was due on stage, Tang Shi began to feel lightheaded. He had heard that Alphas with rare pheromones often required inhibitors to maintain a facade of normalcy, but he thought he was fine after the shot Little Uncle had given him.

“Who’s releasing their pheromones on purpose? Are you trying to scare my goddess?!”

The more innocent Tang Shi appeared, the more the Alphas brawled, their mouths watering as they looked ready to tear into one another. The noise was deafening. Tang Shi felt a surge of irritation; he wanted to snap at them and tell them all to get lost.

“I don’t feel well. I want to leave,” he whispered to the host.

The moment he stepped backstage, his vision blurred. He couldn’t distinguish the floor from the walls. Amidst the muffled shouts of “Luo Wenyu,” his hands fumbled until they touched a rabbit.

It was a large, sturdy rabbit. It didn’t feel soft—it was a bit rough, like a sculpted rabbit, but its eyes and lashes were beautiful.

With a soft mwah, he leaned in and nipped at it. Tang Shi shook his head groggily. It smelled like Little Uncle. When the “rabbit” tried to grab him, he gave it a light slap, only for his hands to be instantly captured in a firm grip.

******

After taking him away, Sheng Yansheng carried the boy straight to Song Chi’s clinic.

“Why is he showing these symptoms?” Sheng Yansheng asked.

Song Chi looked Tang Shi up and down, then glanced at the Film Emperor. To him, Sheng Yansheng currently looked less like a concerned relative and more like a human trafficker.

“Is he really your nephew?” Song Chi asked curiously, staring at the Alpha lying on the bed in full women’s clothing. He shot Sheng Yansheng a bizarre look.

“No,” Sheng Yansheng replied, his dark, sword-like brows furrowed in an expression of extreme gloom. He looked cold and unapproachable, yet his hold on the boy had been remarkably steady.

Once he heard the full story of what happened at the venue, Song Chi couldn’t help but adjust his glasses and laugh. “You’re saying he mistook you for a rabbit?”

Not only that, but the boy had been demanding hugs and kisses, his eyes rimmed with red, his body as soft as if he’d just been fished out of a pool. He had been clingy and incoherent, pressing into Sheng Yansheng with everything he had. Even in the throes of a rut, he wasn’t the least bit well-behaved.

From the look on Sheng Yansheng’s face, Song Chi could guess the rest. The Alpha on the bed was still restless, letting out occasional muffled grunts and purr-like snores. Being an Alpha, he required a certain level of effort to soothe.

Clearly, Sheng Yansheng wasn’t the type to do that. He was famous for rejecting countless Alphas and was notorious for being neither delicate nor attentive. Song Chi understood.

“Go wait outside. I’ll run some tests to see why he’s reacting this way.”

The Enigma hesitated for a moment before retreating. He sat in the hallway, picking up the oranges Song Chi had bought and peeling them one by one. By the time the door opened, a pile of peeled oranges sat in his hand.

“A-Sheng,” Song Chi began. “You know I’m fascinated by rare cases. Your ‘nephew’ has a rare pheromone profile. During his rut, he experiences identity loss and vivid hallucinations. You could totally put him in the research institute… just like you.”

Just like me? An anomaly? A monster that has to hide his fourth gender from the world?

“No,” the Enigma refused flatly.

Seeing his friend’s resolve, Song Chi shook his head regretfully. “If that’s the case, he won’t be able to get relief from a partner during his cycles. Over time, his pheromones will become chaotic, and he’ll become dependent on inhibitors. His scent is extremely difficult to match with an Omega.”

Song Chi finished his analysis with a word of caution. “Taking too many inhibitors is no different from poisoning yourself; it’ll ruin his body. You… you need to be better to him.”

Sheng Yansheng’s lips twitched almost imperceptibly. “I know.”

******

When Tang Shi opened his eyes, he found himself back at the Sheng villa. He spent a long time trying to piece together how he had gotten home. What exactly had happened?

He sluggishly checked his phone, only to find news reports about “Alphas disrupting the event.” There wasn’t a single mention of him. The chaos had apparently been overshadowed by the appearance of Luo Wenyu. In one video clip, he thought he saw Luo Wenyu’s hand reaching toward him.

At the very end of the footage, a hand with prominent veins could be seen gripping his waist. The sheer sense of strength in that single frame was enough to make Omegas across the internet go mad with jealousy. After all, a single hand from Luo Wenyu was enough to make fans—from “Mommy-fans” to “Baby-fans”—refuse to wash their own hands for three days.

Ji Zhicen had clearly been worried sick, judging by the dozens of missed calls. After calling back to say he was safe, Tang Shi noticed he was wearing an old-fashioned silk pajama set. It felt warm and comforting, as if it had been dried in the sun. It was loose and ill-fitting, clearly way too big for him.

Wait. Who had removed his makeup and bathed him? And whose clothes were these? Was Little Uncle really this tall?

As dusk fell, Tang Shi wandered out just in time for dinner. He rubbed his eyes, the long sleeves and pant legs making him look even smaller than usual. Looking lazy and relaxed, he sat across from his uncle. “What’s for dinner, Little Uncle?”

The servants began serving the courses. Half the dishes were placed specifically in front of Tang Shi. There were several types of soup: pigeon soup, cod soup, and matsutake soup.

He blinked at the spread. “I don’t want to eat all this.” He stood up and pushed the bowls toward the other side of the table. “Little Uncle should drink them.”

When his uncle didn’t move, Tang Shi remembered that the man usually needed help. He ladled a bowl of soup and sat down in front of him. Feeling he wasn’t close enough, he simply sat right between the man’s legs.

Tang Shi opened his own mouth expectantly, but Sheng Yansheng didn’t move. “Why are you staring at my mouth?” he asked, confused.

Strictly speaking, it didn’t look like the man was looking at his lips, but rather at the “void” inside his mouth. As the gaze drifted downward, Tang Shi tugged at his oversized collar. “These pajamas are huge. Whose are they?”

His uncle remained silent. So prideful. Tang Shi had no choice but to blow on the soup for him. “It’s probably a bit hot; I don’t want you to burn your tongue.” After setting the bowl down, he moved back to his own seat to eat. He stayed close, just in case his uncle needed anything.

However, Sheng Yansheng barely ate a few bites, spending most of the time watching Tang Shi. Do all adults like watching other people eat? Tang Shi wondered.

Mid-meal, he remembered his objective: he needed to borrow money. He licked his lips, which were glistening with soup. Sheng Yansheng watched the cherry-red lips go from dry to moist and back again until he finally couldn’t take it anymore. He signaled the housekeeper for a tissue.

“Wipe your face,” he said, handing it over.

“Oh,” Tang Shi replied absently.

Sheng Yansheng could tell he had something on his mind. “If you have something to say, say it.” His tone was blunt, but it lacked the coldness of their first meeting.

This should be enough rapport to ask for a loan, right? “I… I want to borrow some money,” he said in a tiny voice, tugging at his slipping sleeve. He was terrified his uncle would look down on him for asking. He quickly added, “I’ll pay you back as soon as I earn it! And… I can take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.”

Always? A dark shadow passed through Sheng Yansheng’s eyes as his gaze fell on Tang Shi’s pale collarbone. Seeing no immediate answer, the boy’s heart sank. Just as he went to pull his hand back from the side of the wheelchair, Sheng Yansheng grabbed it.

“You’ll take care of me?”

Tang Shi’s mouth hung open slightly. He was stunned. This was the first time Little Uncle had ever initiated a touch. But his grip was a bit too tight; it actually kind of hurt.

He told himself he understood—his uncle was probably just afraid of being abandoned. As long as the man didn’t find him annoying, Tang Shi was happy to stay. He nodded vigorously.

“How much?” Sheng Yansheng asked.

Tang Shi assumed his uncle hadn’t worked in years and probably didn’t have much saved up. He didn’t want to be greedy. “Two hundred thousand.”

One Enigma-grade inhibitor cost five hundred thousand, and Tang Shi had already been given two. Two hundred thousand was more than reasonable. Sheng Yansheng knew Ming Ge’s program required an entry fee—a personal investment. The boy was likely asking so he could sign up.

If he wanted to walk this path, he would have to suffer. Some people would be far more ruthless than a simple loan.

“Fine,” Sheng Yansheng said softly. Then, he tightened his grip on the little Alpha’s hand even more.

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