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Le Xiao is a top-tier pop singer in the entertainment industry and a 20-year-old Omega who has just reached the legal marriageable age. Upon returning home from a tour, he was blindsided by an Alpha fiancé whom he had never met.
Faced with a difficult, heaven-sent engagement and failing to cancel it, Le Xiao looked at the smiling, gentle Alpha and hatched a plan: he would act out until the Alpha was completely fed up and proactively asked for a divorce.
However, no matter how hard he tried to make a scene or act spoiled, the Alpha remained unfazed. He tolerated everything with a smile and had zero complaints.
Gradually, Le Xiao was shocked to find that he had begun to depend on him. A mere hint of pheromone scent would make his gland heat up; a momentary clash of eyes would make him panic and look away; and a single hug was enough to leave his whole body burning and his face flushed red.
He secretly and greedily captured the scent of the Alpha’s pheromones while stubbornly insisting, “I do not like you at all.” Little did he know, these small actions had long been seen through. Once he tripped up, he finally fell headfirst into the river of love.
Inside a worn-out medical record, the words “Pheromone Disorder Syndrome” on the diagnosis sheet were strikingly dark. Below them followed a line of small text: Genetic Match: Ye Jiming.
Deep in his buried memories, his younger self once trotted on short legs, following a tall, thin boy and calling him “Brother.”
Clutching the handsome brother’s sleeve with a chubby hand, he tilted his head and said, “Brother, I want to marry you in the future.”
In the middle of the night, the gland on the back of his neck was scalding, sending waves of burning pain. The Alpha’s strong, powerful arms pulled him into a restless embrace. Their lips and teeth intertwined, stifling his unbearable moans.
“Are you still in pain?”
The Alpha’s voice was gentle and mellow.
“Is that better?” A low, raspy voice whispered in his ear, “Call me ‘Brother,’ and I will give you my pheromones.”
He was so frustrated that he swung a hand back in a mock slap, yet his face flushed with longing as he whispered, “Brother.”
The crisp scent of cedar pheromones flowed continuously into his gland like a thirst-quenching spring in the desert.
One-sentence Summary: A one-in-ten-thousand encounter, a one-in-a-hundred-million love.
Theme: Love is the root of the illness, but it is also the cure.
