Chapter Text
For a long time, Hua Yong thinks that taking over Beichao Holdings will make him happy.
Seizing control of the company would mean triumphing over his family—over the siblings who’ve spent years tormenting him and the father who’s turned a blind eye. The first twelve years of his life are the worst: with the appearance of a fragile Omega, no differentiation in sight, and no allies to his name, Hua Yong has to rely on his own smarts to survive. And then, at twelve, past the time when anyone expected it, it shifts: he presents as an Enigma. Suddenly, Hua Yanwuming takes notice of his son. Suddenly, horizons open to Hua Yong that had been closed before.
“You’ll make the Hua family proud, my son,” his father says.
But Hua Yong doesn’t want to make his family proud. He wants to make them dead.
That resolve doesn’t change as he grows older. Since his early childhood, Hua Yong’s only desire has been to take Beichao Holdings for himself and trample his family into dust.
Hua Yong achieves his goal by age eighteen. He ensures his father’s early passing, and his siblings’ demise. He gathers power in his hands, and stands on top of it all, higher and more powerful than ever and…
He is not happy. Not for long enough.
***
“Chang Yu, what makes people happy?” Hua Yong asks, absently staring out the window of his office at Beichao Holdings.
“Money, power, status,” the faithful secretary lists. Then, with hesitation: “Love. Acceptance. Creative self-expression.”
“Hm,” Hua Yong says.
He already has money, and power, and status. Certainly, he is accepted everywhere he goes. The other two… perhaps it is worth trying.
***
Hua Yong finds an expert to teach him the four arts. He is gifted, and intelligent; it doesn’t take him long to pick them up. He quickly masters the guqin, but finds no real joy in playing. His calligraphy is beautiful, and he crushes most opponents at weiqi. When he picks up a paintbrush, his landscapes come out excellently rendered. And yet there is no life to them—a hollowness to his paintings just as to his music.
“What is your message?” the teacher asks. “What is your muse? Find that which stirs you, and let this direct your soul.”
But Hua Yong’s soul is a lifeless desert. He has no muse. He reaches technical perfection, but his art can’t touch anyone’s heart—including his own.
“For many, love has been the inspiration,” the teacher says.
So perhaps Hua Yong should’ve started from there.
***
Hua Yong is attractive—he’s always known this. Comments about his physical appearance started when he was a child and have only let up now that people are too afraid to utter them to his face. They will still do it if they don’t know who Hua Yong is.
And yet Hua Yong has never found a single person appealing in return. Most people bore him, and their scents range from bland to unpleasant. He used to like the idea of soulmates—the idea of there being, out there, someone meant just for him. But he’s been alive on earth for almost twenty years, and felt not a hint of interest in anyone.
Still, he’s read books. Sometimes, love grows from lust. Hua Yong decides to try.
“Is there a specific type I should aim for, Boss?” asks Chang Yu, tasked with finding Hua Yong a discreet array of options.
“A type?” Hua Yong tilts his head to the side.
“In looks, Boss.”
“Oh. Isn’t that all the same?” Hua Yong shrugs. So far, he’s been uniformly indifferent to everyone. “Just get me someone of each gender. Omega, Beta, Alpha, female, male…”
The Omegas are eager for his cock, and dull. His scent gets them drunk and stupid, and they moan and slobber and beg him to fuck them. The physical release, such as it is, is not worth the tedium. The Betas are more entertaining, in that they mistake him for an Omega and assume they’ll be on top; their fluster to find themselves on their backs instead is at least momentarily amusing. He anticipates that the Alphas might be even more diverting in this regard, and he’s not wrong. He does let one of them explore, wondering if he might enjoy the danger of giving up control, but there’s no pleasure in it that he can feel. It’s more interesting to make a proud Alpha submit to his pheromones and accept his cock instead. But then they, too, turn stupid and just moan and writhe and cry while releasing their off-putting scent.
He fucks them all, perfunctorily, and feels almost nothing.
“Shall I find someone for your next rut, Boss?” Chang Yu asks.
“No,” Hua Yong says decisively. His ruts are disagreeable enough without a needy creature there to annoy him with their pheromones.
All this… If this is love, it doesn’t make him happy. He gives it up. It’s not for him.
***
Maybe it’s just that Hua Yong doesn’t yet have enough power. Enough status. Enough money. Maybe those things will make him happy. The Beichao Holdings takeover did occupy his thoughts for many long years, after all.
Perhaps he just needs to get stronger and grow his empire. Expand beyond Country P. Accumulate power until it fills the void in his chest, until his life gains some semblance of colour—until something, anything excites him.
The new determination gives him focus, reassuring him that he’s on the right path.
He’s an Enigma, the greatest predator in every room. Maybe conquest is what he’s meant for.
Hua Yong reorganises Beichao Holdings and prepares for war.
***
In the meeting suite at the Eastern Lake state guesthouse in Jianghu, a tea service is laid out on the long conference table. The room, with its dark wood panels and plush carpets, speaks to the nature of the place—one reserved for visiting ministers and conversations never meant for official records. Around the mahogany table sit the Jianghu regional administrator, the president of the Jianghu Chamber of Commerce, the Finance Minister, the Central Bank Governor, and the representatives of the top capital power in the country.
Holding the floor is Elena He, the former Economy Minister from Country V.
“You are all familiar with this man,” she says, pointing to the presentation slide which displays a stunningly beautiful youth in a black suit. “Hua Yong, the head of Beichao Holdings. Rumours say that the company is involved in unsavoury dealings including arms trade, but nothing has been proven. Among the youngest CEOs in the world, Hua Yong took over his family’s conglomerate when he was only eighteen years old. The thirteenth illegitimate son, he rose to prominence ahead of all his siblings and is now the only one of them still alive. Under his leadership, the already powerful company expanded into the worldwide giant we know today. In Country P, he’s considered to be the uncrowned emperor.”
“Yes, yes, Minister He, no need to belabour the young man’s accomplishments,” says Zhao Mingcheng, the middle-aged chairman of the nation’s biggest construction conglomerate.
“I’m afraid that what I want to highlight today are not his accomplishments, but the danger he poses to you and to your country,” Elena He says. “Hua Yong is a ruthless young man on a quest for power. He has not only bent Country P to his whims—two years ago, he also came into Country V and took it over. Now, he has set his sights on you.”
“Now, Minister He.” Lu Guoxun, the president of the Chamber of Commerce, gives a smile. “There is, ah, no need to be so, well, drastic in our assessments, is there?”
“I’m afraid there is,” the Country V minister insists. “In recent months, Beichao Holdings and its various subsidiaries have made significant investments in a number of your industries. They have offered preferential deals and lucrative contracts—”
“And what’s wrong with that?” asks Qin Ruichen, the young CEO of Ruichen Capital, now the top financial company in the country. His eyes narrow. “We’ve already cooperated with Beichao Holdings on a supply chain data infrastructure project—there’s been nothing irregular about their conduct.”
“Indeed there would not be, at this time,” Elena He says. “But please consider this.” She clicks to the next slide, displaying a virtual map with multiple nodes. “You have cooperated with Beichao Holdings on data infrastructure. But several of your country’s banks have already struck deals with Silverbridge Investments to rely on their emergency liquidity support systems. Meanwhile, Everline Infrastructure has invested in your country’s energy grid software modernisation. Most recently, Stratacore Logistics has secured a contract with your military for encrypted logistics coordination systems. And all of these companies are subsidiaries of Beichao Holdings.”
The Jianghu regional administrator sits upright in his chair.
“All of these different companies belong to Beichao Holdings?” he repeats, frowning, and exchanges a glance with the Finance Minister—the one who organised this gathering.
The Finance Minister nods gravely, just as Elena He says:
“Yes. Individually, there is nothing alarming or strange about these collaborations. Much like President Qin’s Ruichen Capital, others in your country have jumped on the chance to secure profitable deals. But what is not obvious to each isolated sector is the global picture that emerges.”
“You’re saying that Beichao Holdings is trying to gain a foothold in various parts of our country’s critical infrastructure,” the Central Bank Governor utters, growing pale.
“I’m saying that they’re already partway there. Beichao Holdings will integrate itself into your infrastructure until they become the coordination layer across all state-critical systems. You will depend on them in every sector. Your whole country will be beholden to the whims of this one man.” She switches back to the image of Beichao Holdings’ youthful CEO.
“You paint him as such a monster, Ms He,” Qin Ruichen says with a sharp smile. “If the head of Beichao Holdings is such a threat to Country V’s national security, I’m surprised your military didn’t send some manner of assassins after him.”
Elena He squares her shoulders.
“They did, at the end,” she says, to the visible shock of everyone in the room. “They failed. Hua Yong is very well protected. More importantly, he is the strongest Alpha anyone of us have ever encountered. A full squadron of our best-trained operatives could do nothing against him alone. He is so strong, some have suspected that he’s beyond an Alpha—”
“With all respect, Ms He, if you’re trying to imply this man is an Enigma, we will truly descend into the realm of science fiction,” Qin Ruichen interrupts.
“It does not matter what he is,” Elena He allows. “What matters is what he’ll do. Two years ago, the pattern unfolding in your country took shape in Country V. We were too slow to see it. Now, my country is entirely dependent on Beichao Holdings. Why do you think I am the former Economy Minister? I was not convenient to them, so I am gone. Hua Yong is now the little emperor of Country V, as well as Country P. He is a monster. His hold on power is absolute, and now he’s set his sights on you. If you value yourselves, do not let him win.”
A hush falls over the room, and then a spirited discussion erupts. The assembled council looks into Elena He’s documents, and make calls confirming that the various companies making deals in their country are in fact connected to Beichao Holdings. They argue about the danger this presents. They debate the best ways forward, now that most of them are convinced of the peril they face. They consider the notion of bringing in their own military chiefs, and reject it as far too precipitate and likely to complicate matters.
“Well, ah, Minister He, well, what do you suggest we do?” asks Lu Guoxun, mopping his forehead.
“You have an ace up your sleeve that we did not have and could not find,” Elena He says. “A distraction.”
She clicks forward in her presentation, and a video plays. At a recent economic summit, Hua Yong and his entourage walk past a group of people. Momentarily, his head turns, as if suddenly attracted by an invisible stimulus. Then an aide addresses him and more people approach, apparently making him refocus and put the interlude out of his mind. The video pauses, and a red circle appears around a tall, handsome man some steps away from the head of Beichao Holdings.
“Hua Yong is famously impervious to lures or honey traps,” Elena He says. “He remains entirely indifferent to people’s scents—Alpha, Omega, it doesn’t matter. He’s got no known romantic relationships, and does not indulge in sexual pleasures regardless of how they’re offered. In all records of him, there has only been one time when he’s been interested in someone’s pheromone scent. It was here, in Jianghu, with this man.”
“But that’s young Sheng Shaoyou!” Zhao Mingcheng exclaims. “He’s the CEO of Shengfang Biotech—he’s recently taken over from Sheng Fang, his father.”
“Whoever he is, he’s the only known person to have sparked even a trace of attraction in Hua Yong,” Elena He says. “This is a huge opportunity for you.”
“Minister He may not be aware, but Sheng Shaoyou is an S-class Alpha,” the Finance Minister says with a pained smile. “He comes from a respected family, well known here in Jianghu. So if Minister He is suggesting that we send him in as a—a honey trap, in your words—I’m afraid that’s not a realistic prospect. If nothing else, President Sheng himself would never agree.”
“Hua Yong will take over your country faster than you think if you don’t stop him,” Elena He says with emphasis. “He’s already got his fingers in your critical industries. At this point, rooting him out will be a struggle. Your best bet is to at least slow him down—to distract him and redirect his focus even slightly while you are trying to extricate yourselves from his hold as best you can. You have a chance that Country V never had—a person who might, just might hold Hua Yong’s attention, for however short a time. So you would do well to bring this Sheng Shaoyou to Hua Yong’s notice.”
“This is preposterous,” Zhao Mingcheng thunders. “Sheng Shaoyou is an upstanding young man. I know his father. I shall not be discussing him as some—some sacrifice, a plaything to be delivered to another Alpha’s door—”
“I’m not proposing that you send this Sheng Shaoyou directly to Hua Yong’s bed. But let them meet. Try to see, at least, if Hua Yong truly is drawn to this young man’s scent. And if he is—then you have options.”
“They are both Alphas,” the Central Bank Governor points out delicately.
Everyone assembled is an Alpha, too, rendering the topic sensitive.
“It may not matter to Hua Yong,” Elena He says.
“It will matter very much to Sheng Shaoyou.” Qin Ruichen curves an eyebrow. “The man is known for his numerous Omega conquests. The idea of him dangling on Hua Yong’s arm is… rather a stretch.” The mental image seems to amuse him.
“Preposterous!” Zhao Mingcheng repeats.
“What would you choose, if it came down to that: the security of your country, or one man’s comfort?” Elena He asks.
The assembled company exchange frowning glances.
“There is perhaps, ah, no issue in at least introducing them,” Lu Guoxun says. “We have a gala coming up, co-organised by, well, us at the Chamber of Commerce and hosted at the, ah, Foreign Ministry. Sheng Shaoyou would, well, not normally be invited, but we can arrange for it.”
“They might hit it off, at least on friendly terms,” the Finance Minister muses. “And if they don’t, there is of course no question of forcing President Sheng into a distasteful liaison,” he adds, as if assuaging his own conscience.
“Should we warn Sheng Shaoyou?” the Central Bank Governor asks, perhaps in a bid to do the same.
“Then he might reject this encounter entirely,” Qin Ruichen points out, lip quirking. “Fear not, Governor. Sheng Shaoyou doesn’t need anyone’s protection. He’s an S-class Alpha, isn’t he? He’s strong enough to reject any unwanted advances, should they take place.”
“Yes,” the Jianghu regional administrator agrees, a troubled cast to his brows. “Yes. Let them meet. We lose nothing, and what’s the worst that can happen?”
And so it is decided.
***
Sheng Shaoyou pushes the latest report from R&D away in disgust.
“This is the best they could do?” he demands from Chen Pinming.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the secretary says.
“The billions I’ve spent, the time we’ve invested, and this is all our scientists can offer? Another failure?”
Sheng Shaoyou leans on an elbow and massages his temple.
He, better than anyone, knows how close his company stands to the brink of crisis. The patent on the genetic scissors technology, which catapulted Shengfang Biotech to prominence, is running out soon. If Shengfang Biotech’s scientists don’t manage a breakthrough, their rivals will overtake them entirely. The company has been stagnating while others are leaping forth.
This means Sheng Shaoyou’s father is lying in the hospital in desperate need for a gland cancer treatment that his own company is unable to provide.
They do not have infinite time.
“What else does our R&D department require?” Sheng Shaoyou asks, looking at Chen Pinming. “More funding? Better scientists? Where is the apparent lack?”
Chen Pinming looks aside. “Sir, if it is an issue of personnel… it is not easily solved. The top talent is already employed elsewhere.”
Like Beichao Holdings.
Sheng Shaoyou signs and leans back in his chair.
He’s tried to get an in with Beichao Holdings before. So has, in his time, his father. But Beichao Holdings is too big, too unapproachable, their CEO too magnificent a figure. The closest Sheng Shaoyou has come to crossing paths with him was at an economic summit here in Jianghu, where Hua Yong was the keynote speaker. Hua Yong—absurdly young for the role he occupies, and distractingly delicate-looking for an Alpha—gave his speech and then was whisked away to private meetings with journalists and politicians and heaven knew who else. Wrangling a meeting with him is like trying to catch sunlight in a fist.
What Sheng Shaoyou needs is an opportunity.
In an unexpected turn of events, such an opportunity comes knocking later that day.
“Sir,” Chen Pinming says, entering Sheng Shaoyou’s office, “you have received an invitation to a gala at the Foreign Ministry. It’s quite short notice—already tomorrow—but there is apparently a rumour that the head of Beichao Holdings will attend.”
Sheng Shaoyou sits up.
“Accept it,” he says. “And prepare me a brief for this gala.”
This could be Sheng Shaoyou’s chance to finally meet Hua Yong. He can’t mess it up. The future of this company—and his father’s life—might depend on it.
***
The gala is boring. Of course it is. Hua Yong has never found black-tie events amusing, even when he was actively dismembering someone at them. At tonight, all such diversions are off the table regardless—he’s here in Jianghu to look friendly and just powerful enough to make people want to curry his favour. The moment to turn up the intimidation has not yet come.
Hua Yong turns to greet the next tedious person who will come to introduce themselves, and—
The world shifts.
Accompanying the portly president of the Jianghu Chamber of Commerce is a strikingly handsome young man. He’s tall and impeccably dressed in a sharp suit, his stride confident, his features chiseled.
Alpha, Hua Yong’s mind whispers. S-class Alpha.
More important than his designation is the scent: orange and rum, intoxicating, alluring. Like something Hua Yong should recognise—something briefly known and unconsciously longed for.
Hua Yong stands up straight, and doesn’t take his eyes from this man as Lu Guoxun performs the introductions.
“Sheng Shaoyou,” Hua Yong repeats in an undertone, holding the young man’s hand just a moment longer than normal.
Sheng Shaoyou quickly adjusts his expression, but Hua Yong hasn’t missed the split second of appreciation on his face. Clearly, Hua Yong’s beauty has made an impression. His mouth ticks up at the corner.
“President Sheng is the head of Shengfang Biotech,” Lu Guoxun adds. “Given the, ah, suppressant technology pioneered by Beichao Holdings, I thought you two might have, ah, things in common!”
Shengfang Biotech. Hua Yong does remember that, from his files on this country. A significant player in the biochemical sector, though not otherwise.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, President Hua,” Sheng Shaoyou says with a polite smile which now reveals nothing of his real feelings.
“Of course,” Hua Yong says, swaying just a little closer to catch more of that orange scent—the first that’s interested him in his lifetime. He’s almost dizzy at the notion. “The pleasure is all mine, President Sheng.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it!” Lu Guoxun says, but Hua Yong pays barely any attention as he withdraws.
Hua Yong’s eyes remain pinned to Sheng Shaoyou—cataloguing the minute changes in his face, the careful way Sheng Shaoyou is assessing him back, the manner in which his hair falls over his forehead. There is reserve to Sheng Shaoyou—something innate? Or is he sensing, as most people do, the subtle danger emanating from Hua Yong?
Hua Yong’s heart is beating fast. It’s something of a thrill to even be standing next to Sheng Shaoyou—to this man whose scent has got him riveted.
Who is he? Why? What makes him special? Hua Yong must find out everything about him, as soon as possible.
For now, though, Hua Yong keeps up a light conversation.
“Perhaps we could talk more at dinner sometime next week, President Sheng,” he says, as if offhand. “Shengfang Biotech’s genetic scissor technology is something Beochao Holdings has long considered complimentary to our own suppressant techniques.”
“I would be delighted,” Sheng Shaoyou says, a keen light in his eye—clearly seeing a business opportunity.
A lot of people in this room would love to meet Hua Yong one-on-one and talk cooperation with Beichao Holdings. It is convenient, to be able to dangle such a lure in front of this intriguing Alpha.
They talk together for longer than Hua Yong has spent with anyone else. People notice, glances sneaking towards them from across the room. Hua Yong doesn’t mind. He would’ve monopolised Sheng Shaoyou the entire evening, but that might make him look too eager for his company. When Chang Yu comes up to him, he lets Sheng Shaoyou excuse himself and leave, though he’s still tracking his movements from beneath lowered eyelashes.
“I want to know everything about this man,” Hua Yong says quietly. “Everything, Chang Yu.”
“Yes, Boss.”
The orange scent still lingers in Hua Yong’s nose. It makes him want—
What? What does Hua Yong want from this Sheng Shaoyou?
He isn’t sure. He only knows his instincts stir near this man, and his heartbeat thunders in his ears. Sheng Shaoyou is special, somehow. Hua Yong will dissect his every sinew and snuff out every secret before he lets him go.
***
Sheng Shaoyou is twenty-seven years old, and born with a silver spoon in his mouth—the clear heir to his father’s company. He’s a reasonably competent president of that institution now, having expanded it during his father’s illness. He’s reportedly cold and aloof, focusing on his work and having only the most superficial relationships with his many sexual conquests.
But if you dig deeper, there are weaknesses threaded through Sheng Shaoyou’s profile. He is in fact unduly given to sentiment, judging by his futile and desperate investment into researching gland cancer treatment for his father’s sake. He is far too forgiving with with his gaggle of useless siblings, and infallibly generous towards his paramours. He wants to think himself a good man, living by his own version of a moral code.
It’s almost too easy to see how these weaknesses could be used to manipulate him. And yet this somehow does not bore Hua Yong.
“What is it about you, Sheng Shaoyou,” he mutters, stroking his fingers over the Alpha’s photo.
Chang Yu is still looking for pictures from Sheng Shaoyou’s childhood and adolescence, but the collection he’s already managed to amass is impressive.
Sheng Shaoyou is, doubtlessly, good-looking. But Hua Yong has seen many good-looking people—many of whom have thrown themselves at him. And yet, this one…
“Sheng Shaoyou,” he sighs. “What am I going to do with you?”
The first step is simple, at least—he’ll take Sheng Shaoyou to dinner.
Chang Yu has made a reservation for them at a Western-style Michelin-starred restaurant in a glass tower overlooking the city, securing a table by the window. Hua Yong doesn’t spare the view any notice, however, his attention drawn to Sheng Shaoyou’s handsome face from the moment he walks in.
“President Hua. It’s great to see you again.” Sheng Shaoyou’s voice is level, and his handshake just firm enough.
But the scent of orange and rum is stronger this time, riper. A normal person might not be able to smell it, but Hua Yong’s senses are beyond everyone else’s; he can tell that a suppression patch is leashing pheromones which want to burst forth.
Sheng Shaoyou must be nearing his rut. He shouldn’t be having business dinners in this state, but evidently Hua Yong is important enough for him to push his limits.
Hua Yong squeezes his hand, inhales, and—
An entirely new instinct roars to life inside him. He wants to pull Sheng Shaoyou down, right here in this restaurant, press him into the floor, and sink his teeth into his gland. He needs Sheng Shaoyou under him, submitting to him, right at this moment.
Hua Yong’s fangs start elongating in his mouth, and his orchid pheromones flare before he clamps down on them, hard. He forces himself to release Sheng Shaoyou’s hand and take a step back.
“Please,” he says through the ringing in his ears, and gestures Sheng Shaoyou into a chair.
Servers come to seat them and offer them menus, the distraction of their presence giving Hua Yong a moment to pull himself together. He manages desultory small talk about the weather and the drinks options before a pretty Omega approaches their table with warm house bread and artistically curled butter.
She flutters her eyelashes at Sheng Shaoyou, demure, and he looks up at her, and—
That’s unacceptable. Sheng Shaoyou should only be looking at Hua Yong. There should be no others in his eyes while Hua Yong is here.
Hua Yong targets his pheromones in a threatening spike. The Omega gives a full-body flinch and turns her eyes to him.
“S-Sir?” she bleats.
“I’ll have a glass of the Louis Roderer Cristal,” he says, tone velvet.
“Y-Yes, sir.”
“The same for me,” Sheng Shaoyou says, evidently not having noticed the byplay.
“R-Right away.”
It takes until the second course for Hua Yong’s heartbeat to calm down, and until the seventh for Sheng Shaoyou to broach the subject of their cooperation on a cause close to his heart.
“I heard that some of the research ongoing at Beichao Holdings has applications for gland cancer treatment technology,” Sheng Shaoyou says.
Hua Yong watches his plush mouth, the gleam of intelligence in his eyes, the noble sweep of his brows.
“Is that so?” he murmurs. “What applications are these, President Sheng?”
He doesn’t take Sheng Shaoyou’s hand, or bite his ear, or put his face into Sheng Shaoyou’s neck to inhale those orange pheromones up close. Hua Yong’s restraint is frankly incredible. The fact that this much restraint is required of him is even harder to fathom.
He hears Sheng Shaoyou’s carefully couched business proposal without truly listening to him.
“Send the documents for me to review, President Sheng,” Hua Yong says, putting the napkin away at the end of their dinner.
“Of course, President Hua.” Sheng Shaoyou gives him a smile correctly measured between confident and friendly. “I look forward to talking with you again.”
It’s clear that, to him, this entire dinner has been a business transaction with another Alpha. He’s probably thinking that he’s managed it rather well, especially given his oncoming rut. In that sense, he’s not even wrong—his control over his pheromones is impressive, not a whiff of them escaping to bother anyone except Hua Yong, for whose senses he couldn’t possibly account.
But in showing up in front of Hua Yong so on the edge of his rut—
Sheng Shaoyou has no idea what he has unleashed.
***
It turns out, not even Hua Yong had the right measure of the impact of Sheng Shaoyou’s pheromones. After their dinner, in the middle of the night, Hua Yong goes into a rut of his own—completely off-schedule, and in a way he’s never experienced before.
The memory of Sheng Shaoyou hovers in front of Hua Yong’s eyes as he writhes on the bed. His mind conjures up an image of Sheng Shaoyou on all fours on the restaurant floor, arching his spine as Hua Yong tears his suit trousers off him. Sheng Shaoyou would moan for him so prettily. His body would welcome Hua Yong so well. Hua Yong would bite into his gland, and—
Hua Yong wants to chase those orange pheromones. He must have those orange pheromones. He will find those orange pheromones—
There’s a fight. It’s all a blur, and there’s blood, and the sound of furniture breaking.
There’s a—tranquilliser? In Hua Yong’s arm?
The world goes hazy and indistinct. Hua Yong’s instincts are howling, furious to be denied. He won’t be kept from what belongs to him. He will claw against all obstacles to get to—
There’s another shot in Hua Yong’s arm. Loud voices, concerned. Hua Yong can’t move. Someone is carrying him, maybe. He loses consciousness and wakes up again restrained, with more shouts echoing around him. People are arguing. His blood is surging. He will find Sheng Shaoyou—
It is a week of hell which takes him aback and frightens his closest subordinates.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was something like mate-seeking syndrome,” Cai Hong says at his bedside in a Beichao Holdings underground facility in Jianghu, evidently having been summoned sometime in the interim. He looks worn out, second only to Chang Yu.
“Mate,” Hua Yong repeats.
Is that what Sheng Shaoyou is to him? Is that why all of his instincts clamour for the Alpha? Is that why his scent alone sets Hua Yong’s blood alight?
Hua Yong has killed five people trying to get to Sheng Shaoyou. He wasn’t himself, and required the first-ever use of the tranquillisers developed just for him. If Chang Yu and Shen Wenlang had been any less rigorous in guarding him, Jianghu would’ve seen the spectacle of an unfettered Enigma causing havoc and presumably taking Sheng Shaoyou by force wherever he managed to corner him.
Hua Yong should be aghast at his loss of control—at how much power this man apparently has over him. Instead, every cell in his body trembles with excitement.
“Yes,” he says. “Sheng Shaoyou is my mate. My soulmate.”
He has a name, finally, for that instinctive pull towards Sheng Shaoyou.
This must be why Hua Yong has never cared about anyone else before. Why nothing has really mattered. All this while, he’s had a soulmate waiting for him. He just hasn’t known it.
“Why Sheng Shaoyou?” Shen Wenlang asks, running an agitated hand through his hair. “What’s so special about him?”
“Just that he was made for me,” Hua Yong says.
“He’s older than you!”
“Then I was made for him. Has Sheng Shaoyou sent over the documents about potential cooperation with Shengfang Biotech?”
“Yes, Boss.” Chang Yu pauses. “It was not part of your original plan for this country to—”
Hua Yong waves a hand. “Plans can change.”
A cooperation between their companies is exactly the kind of leverage Hua Yong needs to keep Sheng Shaoyou close.
Chang Yu and Shen Wenlang exchange glances.
“Isn’t it risky, getting sidetracked like that? You had a clear plan. If you devote resources to Shengfang Biotech, they won’t get used elsewhere,” Shen Wenlang says bluntly. “If you want that piece of ass, just sleep with him and be done with it.”
It’s doable in theory, of course. Hua Yong can invite Sheng Shaoyou into his office and tell him to strip and spread. He can overpower Sheng Shaoyou with his pheromones until Sheng Shaoyou just lies there and submits. But Hua Yong doesn’t want it like that. He wants Sheng Shaoyou to want him. And given that Sheng Shaoyou holds enough sway over Hua Yong to throw him into a sudden rut—to awaken all these instincts he didn’t know he had—he doubts that one tumble in bed with him will cut it.
“This is why you’re still single, Wenlang,” Hua Yong says, lips curving. “Wooing someone takes time. Sheng Shaoyou is my priority.”
Frankly, conquering Sheng Shaoyou is also a more interesting prospect than taking over this boring country. Oh, he’ll manage to juggle both, but he knows where his focus lies for now.
***
Hua Yong must take it slow. Sheng Shaoyou is an S-class Alpha; he needs to be courted carefully. Hua Yong shouldn’t make any sudden moves.
He knows this. It doesn’t stop him from sneaking into Sheng Shaoyou’s house the very night after his rut.
He can’t help it! He needs to see his mate now that he knows what he is! And his mate has just gone through a rut, too, without him. Surely it’s only right to see how he’s doing.
The security around Sheng Shaoyou’s house is appallingly lax. Admittedly, Hua Yong is an Enigma with strength and agility superior to everyone else’s, but still. He doesn’t even have to try that hard to break into Sheng Shaoyou’s bedroom.
Sheng Shaoyou is asleep, as expected. Hua Yong releases soothing pheromones to keep him firmly under.
Hua Yong prowls around the room, taking in the decor with eyes that see perfectly in the dark. Sheng Shaoyou’s bedroom is done in restrained accents, just like the man himself—all sharp angles, masculine blue and brown colours, pristinely tidy. No frivolous knick-knacks to indicate the owner’s personality, not even a carelessly thrown bathrobe… Sheng Shaoyou’s life is so perfectly regulated. Hua Yong shakes his head when he opens the cupboard to appraise the row of near-identical suits and shirts. His socks are neatly folded, as are the boxer briefs he’s apparently fond of wearing. Hua Yong’s eyebrows rise when he finds a drawer with what looks like garters. Does the staid Sheng Shaoyou divert himself with such pursuits? He fingers the leather, finally realising that these are meant as shirt stays, worn around his thighs.
Well. Hua Yong knows what he’ll be imagining every time he meets Sheng Shaoyou now. The temptation to tear his trousers off him will be that much harder to resist, given what’s under them.
Hua Yong’s heart speeds up and his blood runs hotter in his veins, in what’s undoubtedly sexual arousal. Sheng Shaoyou is the only person in his life who’s ever made him want. The feeling is as unfamiliar as it is heady.
“See what you’ve done,” Hua Yong mutters, very quietly. “You should take responsibility.”
Finally, having left the dessert for last, he approaches the sleeping man. Sheng Shaoyou looks so innocent like this—expression open, mouth slack, long lashes fanning his cheeks. Not a steely CEO, but a prize for Hua Yong to unwrap.
Hua Yong leans over Sheng Shaoyou. The smile on his face disappears as the stench of an Omega assaults his senses.
That’s right. Sheng Shaoyou has just spent his rut with some Omega. He dared come home with their scent on his skin, even though he’s Hua Yong’s mate. Sure, he has showered, but Hua Yong can tell.
Hua Yong clenches his jaw.
He’s not about to let this stand.
The totem on Hua Yong’s hand flares as luring pheromones shoot out, drowning Sheng Shaoyou in the orchid scent. Sheng Shaoyou gasps slightly in his sleep, a flush rising to his face. He tilts his neck back, and—offence of offences—there’s a thin scratch peeking through the collar of his silk pyjama top.
“Really, Shaoyou?” Hua Yong asks, cold. “You let them mark you, too?”
At this point, he can do nothing but unbutton the pyjama to assess the damage. The scratch is a small one, clearly left by someone’s long nails. An Omega woman, then, most likely. The rest of Sheng Shaoyou’s torso is thankfully unblemished, and currently suffused with the same blush that colours his cheeks. Hua Yong smirks and releases another wave of luring pheromones. Sheng Shaoyou breathes harder, his chest rising and falling, pert nipples standing up.
Hua Yong leans in to sniff at Sheng Shaoyou’s neck, and, displeased to find the Omega’s scent still lingering, carefully licks Sheng Shaoyou’s throat.
“Look how much trouble you are,” he murmurs. “I ought to punish you.”
The image flits instantly into Hua Yong’s head—Sheng Shaoyou put over Hua Yong’s knees, ass bared and growing red under Hua Yong’s smacks. Would the proud Alpha cry? Would he try to fight back? Maybe one day Hua Yong will find out.
For now, he will only take a good look. He needs to see if the Omega left any other marks, and besides—for all the pictures he has of Sheng Shaoyou, none show him in the nude. And he surely can’t be expected not to know what his own mate looks like.
He tugs Sheng Shaoyou’s pyjama pants all the way off and blinks.
“Really, Shaoyou? Are you that easy?”
Sheng Shaoyou’s long, pretty cock is partly chubbed, reacting to the luring pheromones. Hua Yong releases more, and sure enough, Sheng Shaoyou’s dick twitches.
“You are the problem,” Hua Yong tells it, prodding it disapprovingly.
This is the part of Sheng Shaoyou that has been inside other people. Many other people. It clearly has no standards whatsoever.
If some part of Sheng Shaoyou deserves to be spanked, it’s probably this one.
“I will not be tolerating any more of your nonsense,” Hua Yong tells the dick in front of him.
He carefully turns Sheng Shaoyou around, and that’s—that’s a very nice ass indeed. Sheng Shaoyou is slender, and his file mentions him frequenting the gym; Hua Yong can see the results for himself. Evidently, Sheng Shaoyou doesn’t neglect glute exercises.
Hua Yong’s hands reach out to knead those globes quite of their own volition.
That’s reasonable! It’s practically stress relief!
Besides, this part of Sheng Shaoyou has done no harm at all. Sheng Shaoyou may have amused himself with numerous Omegas, but he’s surely never let himself be taken. That side of him is for Hua Yong to discover alone.
Has anyone even seen—
Hua Yong spreads Sheng Shaoyou’s butt cheeks apart, and looks at the entrance nestled between them. In this one way, Sheng Shaoyou is still a virgin, kept for Hua Yong. Hua Yong will be the first and only one to touch him there.
Heart thundering, Hua Yong ghosts a finger over Sheng Shaoyou’s hole. It’s so small and dry. Unused to taking anything. One day, it’ll open easily for Hua Yong’s cock.
Hua Yong has never had such thoughts about anyone before. He’s never wanted, so much—
Unable to help himself, he spits at Sheng Shaoyou’s entrance. It glistens now, inviting him to reach for it again. This time, when Hua Yong’s finger presses against it, it dips just a tiny way in, and Hua Yong’s whole body flushes hot and cold. His own cock strains against his pants, knowing exactly where it wants to be.
He can’t, can’t do this now. If he doesn’t stop, he’ll take Sheng Shaoyou right here, and he told himself he’d wait.
But what is he meant to do—just leave? Just walk away from his mate when his whole being yearns to touch, to claim? When his fangs itch to sink into Sheng Shaoyou’s waiting gland?
Hua Yong screws his eyes shut.
Nobody in his life has caused him such turmoil. It’s awful and exquisite. He never wants it to end. He never wants this moment to end. He wants to thrust into Sheng Shaoyou, and—
No. He has to go. He has to re-dress his mate and leave.
But maybe… there’s one last thing he’ll allow himself.
Hua Yong leans down and gently, very gently sinks his canines into the soft inside of Sheng Shaoyou’s buttock. The orchid of a temporary mark blooms in the vulnerable spot, and Sheng Shaoyou gives a light whimper. Hua Yong smiles, kisses the mark and draws away.
There. His instincts are satisfied with him having left at least a temporary claim on Sheng Shaoyou. When they meet again, Hua Yong will know that his mate has been marked, even if Sheng Shaoyou himself doesn’t realise it.
***
“He’s taken the bait,” Elena He says in a one-on-one in the Finance Minister’s office.
The photographs show Sheng Shaoyou and Hua Yong talking at the function where they were introduced, and again at a dinner table in a high-class restaurant.
“He is at the very least interested,” she says. “This is a good start.”
The Finance Minister rubs the bridge of his nose.
“Perhaps this was merely a business meeting. President Sheng will surely want to try and convince President Hua to cooperate on gland cancer treatment technology.”
“Yes. But it is a meeting that Sheng Shaoyou has managed to get, where many others failed.” Elena He smiles. “Hua Yong is notoriously difficult to catch. He chooses to be gracious for reasons that benefit himself only.”
The Finance Minister regards the photos on his desk for a moment.
“What does Minister He think Hua Yong’s attention will entail, if he truly is infatuated with young Sheng Shaoyou?”
“It’s difficult to tell, since he’s never been seen with a romantic prospect before,” Elena He admits. “But if Hua Yong agrees to his gland cancer project, we can be sure it’s a sign of favour. This project holds no immediate benefit for Beichao Holdings’ plans in this country. If Hua Yong goes for it, we can consider the distraction a success.”
“And then?”
“And then I advise you to take what opportunities you can, while the distraction lasts. Start stalling on his contracts. Run a technical audit on the military contract, schedule a sudden central bank stress test, build backup payment rails… The road ahead won’t be easy.”
“And Sheng Shaoyou?”
“He might not even hold Hua Yong’s attention for long.” Elena He shrugs. “And he’s an S-class Alpha and a playboy, isn’t he? If someone can hold his own, it’s him.”
“That’s true, that’s true,” the Finance Minister says. “President Sheng certainly has more experience in such matters than this old man.”
“Yes. We can leave young people to their amusements and keep our eyes on what’s important—” Elena He’s eyes shine with a steely glow. “—keeping this country out of Hua Yong’s hands.”