Resisting Arranged Marriages: Starting with Myself - Chapter 24

Late at night, in the midst of a dream.

An indescribable sense of parching heat rose from his lower abdomen, climbing step by step along his meridians. It felt as if a red-hot iron had been placed inside his abdominal cavity, or as if his internal organs had been thrown into a blazing fire, erupting into scorching scars.

Between sleep and wakefulness, Xiao Xiao turned over restlessly.

The heat surged continuously like flowing volcanic magma, endless and inexhaustible.

With his eyes closed, Xiao Xiao threw off the quilt in frustration. Wearing only thin pajamas, he lay spread-eagled on the bed to dissipate the heat.

He pulled his shirt up to his chest, attempting to let his skin contact the cool air as much as possible, using the most primitive method to cool down.

Bright moonlight spilled into the bedroom through the gaps in the curtains, shining on his exposed abdomen. His soft skin appeared as a watery, porcelain white.

However, this burning sensation seemed to originate from deep within his body, like the high-temperature core of the earth, radiating heat outward without a moment’s pause. Throwing off the quilt and pulling up his clothes provided only a trace of coolness that treated the symptoms rather than the cause; it was almost entirely useless.

Every pore on his body dilated. The heat had long since spread from his abdomen to his limbs. The pervasive steam made Xiao Xiao sweat profusely even on this cold winter night.

He opened his eyes, unable to endure it any longer.

It was 3:30 AM. He opened his tired eyes to gaze into the void of darkness in the bedroom, quietly feeling every point of heat on his body.

The magma-like high temperature felt like molten iron, mixing into his blood and flowing to the smallest capillaries, carrying the unbearable heat to every part of his body.

His breath began to grow scalding, as if he had a high fever. Every exhale sprayed out high-temperature water vapor, making him feel like a fire-breathing dragon.

His limbs also began to burn. His hands and feet, which usually grew icy in winter, were now so hot they felt numb. He felt as if he had lost control and perception of his limbs.

His temples began to tighten, and his head swam. It felt as if there were a string in his brain being recklessly plucked by a giant, clumsy hand, giving him a headache.

His glands throbbed violently, as if they had developed mania. Every beat was accompanied by the roar of blood in his vessels. The uncontrollable pheromones crashed around inside the glands before finally overflowing into the entire room like a volcanic eruption.

When Xiao Xiao could smell the chilling yet pungent scent of mint filling the room, he was finally certain: his rut had arrived.

Xiao Xiao’s rut was never regular. Typically, an Omega’s rut occurs once a month, lasting two to three days. However, since Xiao Xiao presented, his rut had almost never arrived on time. Sometimes there was no movement for months, and sometimes it happened twice in a month, which troubled him greatly. The duration also varied, ranging from a single day to a week. There was no regularity, making it impossible to predict.

Therefore, while other Omegas could use their regular cycles to preemptively inject suppressants, he could only react to the situation, taking measures only when physical symptoms appeared.

He had once asked Wen Yan if he had a reproductive development problem, but the answer he received was a soothing, “You are still young and only presented a few years ago. It is normal for the rut to be irregular. Do not worry.” Although he was puzzled, he did not investigate further.

Realizing his rut had come, he struggled to roll out of bed. Dragging his burning, heavy torso, he began to rummage through cabinets looking for suppressants.

He stumbled into the storage room and stared blankly at the countless items filling the space. He had only moved into Ye Jiming’s house shortly before going to Nanfeng Village. Counting it up, it had only been about two months. Most of his belongings were still at his own home; only his seasonal clothes were here.

Most of the things in the storage room did not belong to him. He looked around dazed until he finally remembered that his suppressants should still be in his suitcase.

The white, 28-inch suitcase covered in stickers was currently sitting on the very top of the cabinet.

Looking at the suitcase, which was far beyond his reach, Xiao Xiao let out a heavy, hot breath. He resigned himself to dragging his exhausted body to find a ladder.

The heavy ladder scraped across the floor, letting out a sharp screech that made his heart feel even more unsettled.

In this moment, Xiao Xiao suddenly missed Ye Jiming intensely.

During this period, even if Ye Jiming was busy with work, he would occasionally come home for a night to hold the sleeping Xiao Xiao and whisper to him, soothing their mutual longing.

Yet tonight, of all nights, at the moment he needed him most, he had not come home.

If Ye Jiming were home, with his height and arm strength, he could easily take down the suitcase and get the suppressants. Or, in the middle of the night, he could considerately go to a pharmacy to buy suppressants for him to relieve his total body discomfort.

At the very least, as a partner and lover, he could hold him in his arms, gently kiss his lips, and release some Alpha pheromones as a comfort, or even give him a temporary mark.

He missed Ye Jiming so much. He missed his embrace, his kisses, his gentle words, and his, his cedar pheromones.

For the first time in his life, Xiao Xiao craved the pheromones of another person so desperately.

That cold, distant cedar scent was like his personal drug; once touched, it was hard to quit. He had not noticed it before the thought occurred, but once the floodgates of longing opened, the craving for his partner’s pheromones began to grow exponentially. Every strand of hair, every nerve, and every cell in his body was burning. The heat swept through him like a storm, clamoring with an endless thirst for pheromones.

He wanted Ye Jiming’s embrace. He wanted Ye Jiming’s kiss. He wanted Ye Jiming’s pheromones.

He wanted Ye Jiming to mark him.

Like a person about to drown in a heatwave, he wanted to desperately grab the last vital life-saving straw.

If he caught it, it would save him from the boiling abyss and inject cool, comfortable spring water into his body. If he missed it, he would gradually be submerged and consumed by the heat until he drowned, lost forever.

Struggling to suppress his instinctive desire, Xiao Xiao repeatedly reminded himself in his heart. Ye Jiming is not home. He will not help take care of you. He will not offer moist lips or a warm embrace. He will not release pheromones to you, let alone give you even a temporary mark. You only have yourself to rely on to get through this aggressive rut.

However, for some reason, the physiological reactions and cravings were harder to suppress than anything else.

This was an Omega’s innate bottom-level code written into the genetic sequence, a biological instinct evolved over millions of years for birth and procreation.

Even the strongest willpower could not suppress the most primitive desire.

His pheromones were like a powerful mint bomb, exploding throughout the entire house. Every trace of air was permeated with a cool, pungent scent, powerful enough to even cover the cedar scent of the industrial fragrances.

The blowout release of pheromones had almost reached the limit of what Xiao Xiao’s body could carry. His glands were like a shrinking white dwarf star, expanding with fatal heat, already on the brink of an explosion.

Xiao Xiao clenched his back teeth tightly and covered his painfully throbbing glands, quickening his movements.

As long as he injected the suppressant and slept, everything would be fine.

However, when he exerted all his strength to bring down the suitcase and open it, his only hope was completely shattered.

The empty suitcase contained only an empty suppressant box; there was not a single injection inside.

Only then did Xiao Xiao remember that his last rut happened to be when he went to the island to record a music video, so he had prepared suppressants in his suitcase then. During the recording on the island, his rut finished completely, and he used every last drop of the suppressants.

Since returning home, all his energy had been used to restrain his longing, and he had actually forgotten to buy more.

Looking at the empty injection box, he slumped onto the floor, nearly collapsing from exhaustion.

His body temperature continued to rise. He was now certain that he definitely had a fever.

The intense pain in his glands persisted, evolving from a dull, swelling ache to a sharp, stabbing pain. It felt as if someone were repeatedly stabbing his glands with a dagger, leaving them mangled and bloody.

Biological instinct completely overwhelmed his reason. His groggy brain could not think of anything now, knowing only to humbly pray for cedar pheromones in the depths of his heart.

He did not know how long he lay on the floor until the cold surface froze him back to his senses. His reason returned slightly with the chill. He struggled to prop himself up to reach for his phone nearby.

Unlock, dial, wait for the call to be answered.

He could almost foresee how weak and trembling his voice would be the moment Ye Jiming answered. He could almost imagine what he would say, asking him to come home quickly to help him get through this rut.

The draft was ready in his mind, but when the words reached his lips, they were choked back by the female voice saying “No one is answering.”

In that moment, grievance, helplessness, and heartache, all kinds of bitterness surged into his heart. Tears instantly broke through the dam, sliding down the corners of his eyes and dripping onto the cold wooden floor, creating two shallow marks.

He lost all his strength and lay on the floor, unable to get up again. Something took root and sprouted quickly in his heart, growing wildly like rampaging vines, wrapping tightly around his heart until he could not breathe.

It was not the first time.

Not answering the phone, with no news whatsoever, was not the first time.

On the island, he thought it was a surprise. Back at home, he understood it was busyness. He told himself repeatedly not to care.

He could find a million reasons for Ye Jiming’s repeated “No one is answering” or “The phone is turned off.” He could swallow his disappointment a million times and then convince himself to keep dialing to face the ten million and first “Please try again later.”

But why this time? The one time he needed Ye Jiming most, the one time he craved to see Ye Jiming immediately, the one time he prayed with all his might for Ye Jiming to answer, did he still have to be disappointed?

Did you not say you would not miss calls anymore? Did you not say my matters would always be the highest priority? Did you not say, did you not?

Was all of that fake?

He was too weak to even cry properly. Tears unconsciously pooled in his eyes, slowly sliding down after they filled up, leaving two cold tear tracks.

It felt as if something in his heart had broken, making a “crack” sound like glass, shattering into ten thousand sharp pieces. Every piece reflected a piercing light, and every piece had edges like bayonets, stabbing his soft, living heart until it was a bloody mess.

With a trembling hand, he pressed end call, stopping the mechanically repeating prompt.

It felt as if something had snapped along with that phone call.

Several kilometers away, in an empty office, the lights were bright. The forgotten phone vibrated continuously on the desk for a full minute before falling silent. A few steps away in the conference room, the discussion was still in full swing.

After that vibration, the phone on the desk made no further sound until dawn.

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