TPLTMOE - Chapter 25

The cruise ship wouldn't return until the evening banquet at seven. The group took a speedboat back to the island ahead of schedule.

Ling Ran remained obedient throughout the journey, sticking close behind Jiang Zhiyu as if certain he wouldn't be abandoned. He didn't even ask about Ling Su's whereabouts.

Nor did he care to know.

As they passed through the lobby toward the suite area, Ling Ran suddenly stopped in his tracks.

He and Jiang Zhiyu resided in different sections—this was where their paths diverged.

Yan Xiwen noticed him standing still while Jiang Zhiyu walked farther away.

He found their dynamic intriguing—intimate yet maintaining a polite distance.

Like two people who could go wild in bed but wouldn't share lingering, tender kisses.

Turning to the young Omega, Yan Xiwen offered, "Where are you staying? Need me to walk you back?"

Ling Ran quickly declined, "No need, I'm staying the other way. I'll head there myself."

Yan Xiwen insisted cheerfully, "It's no trouble. I've got no meetings anyway—plenty of free time."

His implication was obvious.

"President Jiang, you go ahead with your business. I'll see the kid home—no worries."

Hearing their exchange, Jiang Zhiyu paused and glanced back at Ling Ran.

After a brief silence, he nodded in acknowledgment before striding off.

A flicker of disappointment crossed Ling Ran's eyes—an indescribable sensation. He'd been hoping for something, but the unmet expectation left his heart feeling like it had been tossed into a soda bottle, fizzing with sour, prickling bubbles.

As Yan Xiwen accompanied him down the other corridor, he reassured, "Don't worry, no one will talk about what happened on the cruise today. Everyone who boards knows the rules."

Ling Ran nodded, though his thoughts were actually elsewhere.

"By the way, what exactly happened between you and Jiang Shengyi? Can you share a little?"

Ling Ran replied, "There's really nothing much to say. We just weren't suited for each other."

"Did it really take two whole years—right before the wedding—to realize that?" Yan Xiwen couldn't hide his curiosity. "The Jiang family never makes bad investments. Seems like Jiang Shengyi acted on impulse this time. But it's just as well you didn't marry into the second branch. When it comes to tactics, the main branch is far more formidable. Your brother didn't look too happy at the card table earlier."

Mentioning Ling Suo only made Ling Ran instinctively shrink back.

Now, his feelings toward that family weren't just fear—more than anything, it was disappointment.

With so many people around on the island, it wasn't the right time to make a scene. He could already imagine the storm that awaited him once he returned home.

The thought made him lower his head even further, as if an invisible hand were dragging him down, making it impossible to lift his gaze or struggle free.

Yan Xiwen noticed his subdued mood and, assuming he was just tired from the day, escorted him to his room before leaving.

Ling Ran entered the passcode and stepped inside.

***

After finishing his report, Zhao Qin stood stiffly in front of the desk, not daring to move.

From the moment Jiang Zhiyu had taken his seat, he hadn't spared him a single glance.

Zhao Qin racked his brain, trying to recall if he'd made any mistakes today, but came up empty.

The only unpleasantness had been the absence of a certain Omega who was supposed to follow the plan—instead, he'd returned to his own room.

Zhao Qin ventured cautiously, "Mr. Jiang, should I go and invite Ling Ran over?"

Jiang Zhiyu finally lifted his gaze, giving him a cool, indifferent look. "Mind your own business."

Zhao Qin immediately shut his mouth. "Then... I'll take my leave."

Even after closing the suite door, Zhao Qin still couldn't make sense of it. If Jiang Zhiyu wanted Ling Ran back, why not just have him summoned? Was he waiting for Ling Ran to come on his own?

Unexpectedly, as dusk fell, a soft knock sounded at the suite door.

Jiang Zhiyu had spent the entire afternoon buried in work, preparing for a series of video conferences that evening. Every project required his personal review beforehand.

Assuming it was Zhao Qin, he opened the door with a hint of irritation, ready to speak—only for his attention to be completely captured by the soft, delicate face that suddenly appeared before him.

Ling Ran stood there with his hoodie on, strands of hair slightly disheveled across his forehead. Breathing unevenly, his lips parted slightly as he panted, cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink. The sudden opening of the door seemed to startle him, his peach-blossom eyes widening slightly as they lifted to gaze forward.

He had sneaked over from his room, running as fast as he could the entire way, terrified of bumping into anyone familiar.

He'd even worried the room might be empty, never expecting the door to open so quickly.

But now, face to face with the tall, strikingly handsome "alpha" before him, the carefully rehearsed words in his mind suddenly seemed impossible to voice.

After mumbling incoherently for a moment, Jiang Zhiyu couldn't make out what he was saying.

"What?" He leaned in slightly closer to the omega, catching the faint scent of rose and grape beginning to emanate from him.

"Speak up. Say it again."

Ling Ran clenched his palms and forced the words out: "Mr. Jiang, there's something I... I was wondering if... could you possibly let me stay here temporarily?"

His clear, dark eyes stared up anxiously, awaiting an answer with palpable tension.

Jiang Zhiyu straightened up, looking down at him impassively. Instead of answering, he first pressed the back of his hand against Ling Ran's forehead.

As expected—it was slightly feverish.

"Are you fully conscious right now?" Jiang Zhiyu asked.

He seemed to be affected by pheromones, meaning whatever he said now might just be hormone-induced rather than his true feelings.

Ling Ran seriously considered this before nodding firmly.

"I'm conscious."

Though his body was gradually heating up, he hadn't yet reached the point of delirium.

Compared to others, he felt a natural sense of reliance toward Jiang Zhiyu, which was why he saw this place as a warm harbor to shelter from the storm.

Now he stood at the doorway like a pitiful little animal begging for shelter, eyes pleading as he waited for a response.

Jiang Zhiyu studied his eyes intently, as if trying to discern the truth behind his words.

Ling Ran's neck was starting to ache from looking up for so long. Interpreting the silence as a silent rejection, he sniffled softly and began to consider retreating.

Just then, the man before him took half a step back, clearing the doorway.

"Alright," Jiang Zhiyu said.

Light instantly sparked in Ling Ran's eyes as he followed him into the suite. After closing the door, he remembered the IOU he'd unnecessarily left on the entryway cabinet when leaving earlier that day.

But now it was gone.

"Mr. Jiang," Ling Ran pointed at the cabinet, "did you happen to see the note I left here this morning?"

Jiang Zhiyu glanced casually. "No."

In truth, he'd torn that note in two before leaving—though he hadn't thrown it away. The pieces still lay in his pocket.

But his expression was so natural that Ling Ran believed him.

"That's strange. I definitely left it here. How could it be gone?"

"Was it important?"

The IOU was something Ling Ran had scribbled casually, holding no real weight. "Not really. It's fine if it's gone."

The room carried no discernible pheromone scent. Ling Ran inhaled deeply but couldn't detect even a trace.

Disappointed, his body grew increasingly restless, his small face flushing even redder.

Jiang Zhiyu still had documents to review. Seeing that Ling Ran seemed stable enough for now, he asked, "Can you hold on a little longer?"

Ling Ran thought he was asking if he was hungry. Not wanting to trouble Jiang Zhiyu, he nodded slightly.

He wasn't particularly hungry—he could hold out until evening.

Jiang Zhiyu handed him the remote. "Watch some TV for a while. I still have some work to finish. Wait for me."

"Okay."

As Jiang Zhiyu disappeared into the study, Ling Ran settled on the sofa to watch cartoons.

But the longer he watched, the more unbearably hot he felt. He shed his hoodie, yet the heat persisted. Tugging at the collar of his T-shirt, he exposed a stretch of milky-white skin, but the discomfort barely eased.

At the same time, the scent gland at the nape of his neck, sealed beneath a suppressant patch, throbbed silently. It had swollen into a small, raised bump, lifting the patch slightly.

His eyes grew damp and flushed from the heat. Unsteadily, he rose and stumbled to the bathroom to splash water on his face. When he glanced in the mirror, his reflection stunned him—cheeks flushed like peach blossoms, his entire body simmering as if melting into a pool of grape juice.

The suppressant patch seemed ineffective now. He could smell his own scent.

He needed to replace it. Reaching back, he tried peeling off the patch, but his fingers trembled weakly. A careless brush against the swollen gland sent a sharp pang through him, tears welling instantly.

Now, more than ever, he craved the soothing embrace of another scent—something sharp, intense, like top-shelf tequila.

The moment the thought crossed his mind, the cramped bathroom seemed to flood with that familiar, intoxicating aroma. Instinctively, Ling Ran inhaled deeply, a shiver running from his scalp to his toes. But it wasn't enough. Turning toward the source, he flung his arms open and lunged into the man behind him.

Jiang Zhiyu caught him effortlessly, one arm securing his waist as he lifted him onto the bathroom counter. Ling Ran's legs fell open, and Jiang Zhiyu stepped between them, tilting his chin up to meet his gaze.

Those peach-blossom eyes, glistening with unshed tears, were veiled in a misty haze. His long, thick lashes trembled faintly, each flutter striking straight to the heart.

Jiang Zhiyu had known his scent would destabilize again—just not this soon.

Midway through reviewing documents, the cloyingly sweet fragrance had reached him. As an enigma, his sensitivity to scents far surpassed the norm, and he realized the little Omega's earlier claim of endurance had been a bluff.

Slender fingers traced the delicate column of Ling Ran's throat, pausing just above the flimsy suppressant patch. The barest touch drew a pained whimper from the Omega.

The fragile gland beneath was swollen taut, the edges of the patch crumpled from strain.

Jiang Zhiyu slowed his movements, carefully peeling away the adhesive. The moment it lifted, an overpoweringly rich sweetness burst forth.

Beneath, the gland was inflamed, its thin skin stretched over what seemed like countless tiny mouths, all starving for the crisp, heady nourishment of aged tequila—something to revive this frail, withering body.

Ling Ran clung to the last threads of his awareness. The man before him carried the scent he craved, and like a kitten, he nuzzled desperately against his chest, rubbing his nose back and forth, pleading silently for more—always more.

He bared his most vulnerable spot without reservation, even arching his waist to press closer to the man's lips.

"Bite... bite me..."

He was pleading.

The intoxicating fragrance of this delectable treat was right before him. Any alpha with slightly weaker self-control would have already sunk their teeth in without hesitation, desperate to pour every ounce of their pheromones into the delicate Omega in their grasp.

But Jiang Zhiyu remained clear-headed. He knew the little Omega wasn't ready yet.

One arm wrapped around that slender waist to keep him from falling off the sink, while the other pressed firmly against his trousers. "Take off the inhibitor first."

Ling Ran clung to him helplessly, tears streaming as he whimpered in response—only Jiang Zhiyu could understand what he meant.

"Be good," Jiang Zhiyu murmured, lifting the man from the sink, his large hands perfectly enveloping that soft warmth. "Take off your pants first."

Ling Ran instinctively wrapped his legs tightly around Jiang Zhiyu's waist, like supple vines that had grown there from birth, bending and conforming to every contour.

The inhibitor was strapped to his inner thigh, the pure white skin as flawless as snow. Jiang Zhiyu held his breath for a moment, focusing solely on the device. After unclasping it, he tugged Ling Ran's pants back up.

Placing the inhibitor on the sink, Jiang Zhiyu removed his own scent-blocking patch. The rich, potent aroma of tequila slowly permeated the air.

Nestled in his arms, Ling Ran panted in shallow gasps at first, then grew even dizzier from the overwhelming alcohol scent, his lips parting unconsciously.

Jiang Zhiyu carried him out of the bathroom. He needed to wait for Ling Ran to adjust to the overpowering enigma pheromones before performing a secondary marking—a point later emphasized in a lengthy document Xu Guanyi had sent.

While waiting, Jiang Zhiyu settled back at his desk with Ling Ran in his lap, just like the night before—one arm cradling him, the other flipping through documents.

The little Omega was utterly docile, soothed by the pheromones, his head lolling weakly. He barely had the strength to move, only shifting occasionally when his legs grew numb.

After finishing a file, Jiang Zhiyu brushed aside the strands of hair at the nape of Ling Ran's neck. The gland there had reddened further, like a ripe fruit ready to burst with juice at the slightest bite.

Jiang Zhiyu traced the delicate line of his spine, from the base of his neck all the way down to the tailbone, as if smoothing the fur of a small animal—ensuring he would stay just as obedient later.

Ling Ran was soothed into a state of utter comfort, his eyelids growing heavy—blinking once, then twice, before they finally stayed shut, as if he were about to drift off to sleep.

Yet his body still burned with fever, and the restless pheromones within him remained far from satisfied.

Jiang Zhiyu gazed at the gland, his tongue flicking against the inside of his cheek.

Then he lowered his head and covered the mark once more.

Since this was a second marking, the process was much smoother than the first. There were no lingering traces of another alpha's pheromones left in Ling Ran's body—the first time, they had already been completely overtaken and replaced by the enigma's far more dominant scent.

Ling Ran's reaction this time wasn't as violently painful as before, though the sudden flood of pheromones surging through his veins still made his back tremble faintly, drawing a few muffled whimpers from him.

But as the enigma's pheromones continued to pour in, growing denser and more overwhelming, the Omega's delicate body began to struggle under the strain.

Ling Ran's eyes flew open abruptly, his body tensing with the instinct to resist—only for the hand on his back to press him firmly in place, forcing him to endure the relentless infusion of pheromones far beyond his capacity.

Through the metallic tang of blood spreading across his tongue, Jiang Zhiyu could taste the intoxicating sweetness of rose and grape—far richer and more potent than anything he had encountered before. The concentration of pheromones in blood was incomparably higher than through any other means.

The cloying scent he had once disliked now felt like the most lethal poison, luring him deeper, urging him to explore, to claim.

For the first time, the enigma—who had always prided himself on his self-control—lost himself just a little too much. By the time Jiang Zhiyu finally released the small Omega in his arms, Ling Ran's fluffy head had slumped limply against his shoulder, unconscious from the overwhelming stimulation.

The air was thick with the mingled scents of grape and tequila, so potent it was as if they had been steeped in a vat of liquor.

Realizing he had momentarily lost himself, Jiang Zhiyu wiped his lips with a fingertip, the pad of his thumb coming away stained crimson.

He lowered his head once more, his tongue darting out to lap up the few remaining droplets of blood welling from the gland.

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