Two hours, thirty-eight minutes, and fifty-six seconds.
Chi Zhuo froze, stunned by the precision of the number.
If a person wasn’t counting every second, how could they possibly know?
A little over two hours ago—that was exactly when the other person had replied to his message.
Chi Zhuo’s heart, which had been holding onto some semblance of calm, could no longer maintain its usual composure. Now it pounded wildly against his chest, reckless and violent, like a drum being beaten, and the thought he had not long ago—about giving someone a proper lesson—vanished silently in an instant.
Ji Chenxi stepped closer, each move radiating force. His pheromones, intensified by the sensitive period, hit Chi Zhuo like a strong, overbearing wave. Any other alpha would probably feel nauseous or even want to retch under such nearly tangible pheromones. Yet Chi Zhuo was different. Somehow, beneath that forceful scent, he sensed a hint of grievance.
Grievance? A word so unsuitable for an alpha, especially one as fierce and violent as this.
The tense, blade-sharp standoff between them had shifted entirely.
Under Ji Chenxi’s ferocious gaze, Chi Zhuo said, “I never said I’d definitely come.”
Ji Chenxi let out a cold snort, clearly dismissive. Yet his forward stride paused, then stopped entirely.
A sliver of remaining reason—worn thin by the torment of the sensitive period—reawakened in Ji Chenxi. Slowly, he remembered something: he had just said something like “come find me if you dare” to Chi Zhuo. Chi Zhuo hadn’t responded, hadn’t even indicated he would come. If anything, the fact that he showed up at all was a surprise.
But that bit of logic was quickly tossed aside. An alpha in the sensitive period wasn’t one for reasoning—otherwise countless omegas and betas wouldn’t suffer so much trying to handle their sensitive partners.
The result? Ji Chenxi wasn’t calmed down at all. On the contrary, he only grew more restless and irritated.
When he didn’t see the person, he grew uneasy because his alpha hadn’t shown up—fragile to the point of breaking. Once the person arrived, half of that unease melted away, leaving only the dark thoughts that anxiety had stirred.
“So you mean… the fact that you could come now is already good enough?”
Before Chi Zhuo could reply, Ji Chenxi added, “If that’s what you think, then you can leave right now. I won’t stop you.”
His deep-sea-blue eyes narrowed slightly, and he pointed to the window Chi Zhuo had just climbed in through. The message was clear—he wanted him gone.
But if he really wanted him to leave, why would he feel hurt when Chi Zhuo hadn’t come?
Kids who knew how to act spoiled got candy. And yet, a kid who was used to being spoiled suddenly refused to be coddled.
Chi Zhuo felt a twinge of discomfort, his eyes dark as midnight, darker even than the night sky outside.
“But… I still came,” Chi Zhuo murmured.
Ji Chenxi tilted his head slightly and made a soft, nasal “hm.”
“I came even after you said those words before,” Chi Zhuo continued quietly.
For a moment, Ji Chenxi’s mind felt stuck. Chi Zhuo’s words carried far more meaning than what he’d heard, and there was still something else he wanted to express.
Chi Zhuo dug his nails into his palms again, squeezing out the small fragment of reason left in him through the pain.
“Because you were desperate to kill me?” Ji Chenxi asked.
Chi Zhuo shook his head. “I’m not the type to break into someone’s house just to kill them. Too obvious.”
Ji Chenxi fell silent. Finally, he grasped the hidden meaning behind those words.
“You’re so cold… and yet I still came. Not to kill you—then what else could it be for?”
Looking up, Ji Chenxi realized—Chi Zhuo was still harboring some forbidden thoughts about him?
The idea, strangely enough, soothed the alpha in the throes of the sensitive period. His irritation eased, replaced by a flicker of satisfaction and a subtle thrill.
“Little Rose,” Chi Zhuo opened his arms. “Would a hug make you feel better?”
Ji Chenxi clicked his tongue lightly, not entirely satisfied with how Chi Zhuo had waited for him, but he didn’t hesitate—he stepped closer anyway.
“You want to hug me?”
He stopped just a step away, asking softly.
Chi Zhuo, whose face had been expressionless, first looked slightly surprised, then a faint smile appeared—shallow, fleeting, almost impossible to catch.
Ji Chenxi felt a twinge of annoyance again. Just as he was about to frown, Chi Zhuo nodded and said, “I do.”
“Oh? But if you wanted it, shouldn’t you be the one coming to me? Not me coming to you.”
Chi Zhuo didn’t move his open arms. He smiled again. The way this was unfolding wasn’t what he expected—he hadn’t imagined that Ji Chenxi, looking so uncomfortable, would still have the patience to ask something like that.
Without hesitation, Chi Zhuo stepped forward and wrapped Ji Chenxi in his arms.
“Alright, now you’re my alpha. Refusing won’t work.”
“Are you… notifying me?”
“Not notifying,” Chi Zhuo said, pausing briefly before adding, “It’s a request.”
Ji Chenxi buried himself into Chi Zhuo’s chest, inhaling the faint scent that Chi Zhuo carried. It was subtle, almost imperceptible unless you were really close. “No one’s request has ever sounded like this,” he murmured.
“Yet no one a few days ago said those words and then, a few days later in their sensitive period, wanted someone else to come. Ji Chenxi, you’re weird.”
“Weird?” Ji Chenxi, already getting restless, started fiddling with Chi Zhuo’s clothes. The pheromone scent was too faint. “Release a little more of your scent.”
Chi Zhuo fell silent—this time, truly silent. Slowly, he realized something: the tender, sweet moment from just before almost evaporated in an instant.
He lifted Ji Chenxi’s face, the one leaning toward his nape, pinching it gently, and said seriously, “I’m an alpha.”
Ji Chenxi looked a little dazed. He made a small “ah” sound, then nodded. “I know.”
Having said he knew, he continued moving toward the glands, even baring his marking teeth. His intention couldn’t have been more obvious.
Chi Zhuo sighed, emphasizing again, “I’m an alpha. You’re an alpha too. Smelling my pheromones during your sensitive period doesn’t ease your symptoms. On the contrary, it only makes you more restless.”
“But I really want to bite you, Brother Chi Zhuo. Just one bite, please, just one.”
Chi Zhuo almost laughed. One bite? Not a chance—not even half a bite!
He was just about to push him away when Ji Chenxi grabbed his collar, tilting his face up. His eyes were slightly red, the lingering moisture not fully dried by the wind, giving him a pitiful, wronged look. Silver hair glinting under the moonlight added to the fragile, heartbreaking impression.
If the request had been anything else, Chi Zhuo would have indulged it immediately.
“One bite, Brother Chi Zhuo. Just one bite, lightly,” Ji Chenxi’s hand shook the sleeve gently, his voice low and soft. “Just one bite, that’s all.”
Chi Zhuo: “……”
An alpha, faced with another alpha’s unreasonable demand, actually wavered—but the hesitation was quickly crushed. He was willing to spoil an alpha he liked, yes, but even spoiling had its limits.
Ji Chenxi let out a soft sigh, the one who had been acting spoiled now burying his head again in Chi Zhuo’s neck, whispering, “I wanted to be gentle at first.”
The gentle words instantly put Chi Zhuo on full alert. Just as he was about to pull Ji Chenxi off him, a tidal wave of pheromones surged toward his neck. The overwhelming scent made no sense—it came with the force of possession, aggressive and demanding, like it intended to take over completely.
No alpha could remain unfazed in the face of pheromones stronger than their own. But in essence, Chi Zhuo was an SSS-level alpha, supposedly immune to all other alphas’ scents. Yet, as luck would have it, Ji Chenxi had marked him before, and Chi Zhuo’s glands had been slightly modified since then.
In other words, that rich rose scent was almost impossible for Chi Zhuo to resist—he even felt his legs weaken for a fleeting moment.
Ji Chenxi’s intent was clear: he wanted to mark Chi Zhuo. But Chi Zhuo had come with full force this time; there was no way he would be completely overwhelmed by Ji Chenxi’s pheromones. Even though the sensitive-period scent was stronger than usual, it still couldn’t fully subdue him.
When Ji Chenxi tried to seize him, Chi Zhuo lifted a hand, seemingly anticipating exactly where Ji Chenxi would go. He grabbed Ji Chenxi’s hand and even pinned him against the nearest small table.
Ji Chenxi, pressed against the table, didn’t panic at all. Instead, he laughed—a laugh brighter and more playful than any he had ever shown before.
“You don’t want me to mark you?”
“No alpha wants to be marked,” Chi Zhuo said, frowning.
And just like that, two alphas on edge started fighting. In a matter of moments, the two who had just been hugging were grappling on the floor, both tumbling onto the bed.
Ji Chenxi wanted to mark Chi Zhuo, and that meant he absolutely intended to mark him.
Finally, as Chi Zhuo relaxed slightly, Ji Chenxi bit down on his gland. Immediately, his mood lifted. True to his word, he bit lightly, but there was no mercy in his mouth.
“No alpha wants to be marked,” Ji Chenxi repeated, echoing the words Chi Zhuo had just said.
Chi Zhuo, a little resentful yet already partially softened by the rose scent, almost accepted it. But with the gland bitten, the rose aroma fused wildly with the tequila, sparking a surge of irritation.
He drew in a deep breath, pulled Ji Chenxi down, and kissed him firmly. “Quiet.”
Ji Chenxi, just calmed down a moment ago, suddenly widened his eyes. The sensitive-period alpha almost let a few tiny tears slip at Chi Zhuo’s slightly harsh words. “I don’t want to be quiet… and you should hold back your pheromones. I don’t want them anymore.”
Chi Zhuo gritted his teeth. He had already bitten him—how could he still be unhappy? “You just said you wanted it! Now you don’t want to smell it, but you’re still making me let you?”
This time, Ji Chenxi didn’t even try to mark him. He let go of the gland and stepped back a few paces.
Sweat had already soaked his bangs during their struggle, and beads of sweat ran down his jaw toward his throat. His heated breath and slightly heavy panting formed a strangely seductive rhythm.
Yet this alpha, emanating pure desire, pursed his lips slightly. “No marking. Go back.”
A sensitive-period little alpha was really troublesome—so fussy, fragile, and impossible to soothe.
But Chi Zhuo found it hard to argue or insist, even feeling a bit guilty for his earlier rough attitude.
He reached out and touched Ji Chenxi’s head, pulling him close to his gland. “Alright, it’s fine now. The sensitive period will pass soon. Little Chenxi… want to bite me one more time?”
Hello, everyone ヾ(＾∇＾). I hope you enjoyed the story! If you’re feeling generous, please buy me a coffee, share/comment on my translated works! Check out the link below for early chapters. (๑>ᴗ<๑)
