The next morning, the clinic was already buzzing with energy.
"You're heading out already?" Haoran asked, his hands busy rummaging through a bowl of fresh fruit on his desk. He gathered a handful of the best pieces and thrust them toward Qixian.
Qixian stared at the pile of fruit in his hands, his expression a picture of utter confusion. "What… is this for?"
"Could you deliver these to my mother?" Haoran asked, leaning in and shamelessly deploying a pair of wide, shimmering puppy eyes.
Qixian let out a genuine, short-lived laugh, shaking his head. He could never say no when Haoran pulled that face. "Fine, fine. I'll do it."
He shifted his grip on the fruit and moved toward the door. Just before stepping out into the morning sun, he glanced back over his shoulder. "I'm heading out! Don't work yourself to death!"
"I won't! Take care out there!" Haoran shouted after him, his voice beaming with gratitude. "And thank you, Qixian! Seriously!"
As soon as Qixian slid behind the wheel and brought the engine to life, his phone vibrated against the console. He hit the Bluetooth, pulling out of the clinic driveway.
"Young Master?" Chengli's voice filled the car immediately.
"What now?" Qixian asked, his tone mockingly weary. "We just saw each other yesterday, Secretary Wu. Are you already suffering from withdrawal?"
Chengli let out a warm, nostalgic chuckle. "I've missed that title. It has a nice ring to it."
"You really are an old man." Qixian teased, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
"A handsome old man, if you please," Chengli corrected smoothly.
"I don't know about that. I've definitely seen someone much better looking than you…"
"Oh?" Chengli asked, his voice tinged with curiosity. "And who might this rival be?"
"Who else? Me, obviously," Qixian replied with unshakable confidence.
"Wait—hello? I think my phone is malfunctioning," Chengli joked. "It's starting to broadcast blatant lies. I should probably get it checked."
Qixian rolled his eyes, a short laugh escaping him. "Haha. Funny."Qixian rolled his eyes. "Now, let's just get down to business. Why did you actually call me?"
Chengli's tone shifted, becoming guarded and professional. "Right. I wanted to confirm something… did you officially change your surname?"
Qixian's grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. "I did. I'm going by Song Qixian now. Why?"
"Because my ears picked up something troubling," Chengli said, his voice dropping an octave. "Someone has flagged a high-priority investigation into a 'Song Qixian.' I figured it had to be you."
Qixian's eyes narrowed as he watched the road. "Who's digging?"
"I don't have a name yet. I'm still tracing the digital trail to see where they're hunting for evidence," Chengli admitted.
"Find them," Qixian ordered, his voice turning cold and sharp. "Call me the second you have a lead." Without waiting for a goodbye, he snapped the call shut, his mind already racing.
As Qixian crossed the threshold of the ZH General Hospital, the sterile, stinging scent of disinfectant surged into his lungs, sharp enough to scrape the back of his throat. He ignored the mounting nausea, his white doctor's coat billowing dramatically behind him as he navigated the familiar hallways with a practiced, authoritative stride.
He arrived at Mrs. Hong's suite and offered a soft, hesitant rap on the door. "Excuse me? Hello, ma'am?"
Mrs. Hong turned her head slowly, her eyes meeting his. Qixian offered a polite, guarded wave as he crossed to her bedside table, carefully setting down the bundle of fruit Haoran had given him. "Haoran asked me to bring these to you."
"You know my Ranran?" Mrs. Hong asked, her voice tinged with a mother's curiosity.
"I'm a new friend of his," Qixian replied, his tone carefully modulated to sound warm yet professional. "He's quite busy at the clinic today and couldn't make the trip himself. He sent these to make sure you're looking after yourself."
Qixian felt a bead of sweat form at his temple.
The hospital's heavy atmosphere was beginning to press in on him. "I'm afraid I have to head out as well. I have a busy schedule ahead of me," he added, offering a low, respectful bow.
"Thank you, dear," Mrs. Hong said, her smile soft. "Could you tell my son to take care of himself, too? Tell him he needs to eat healthily."
"Of course, ma'am. I'll be sure to pass that along." Qixian turned and made a quick, calculated exit.
The moment the door clicked shut behind him, the visceral clash between the hospital's chemical scent and his internal, rising heat hit him like a physical blow. His skin felt uncomfortably hot, and his vision blurred for a split second as his S-tier Omega instincts began to scream for isolation.
Qixian's pace quickened into a near-run as he reached the elevator, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Why now? Of all the moments... he cursed silently, the thought fracturing as a wave of heat rolled over him.
The doors slid shut, sealing him in a momentary sanctuary of cold metal and silence. The second he was alone, he fumbled for his medical kit. His hands were vibrating, a violent tremor that made the plastic casing of the suppressant syringe rattle.
He was drenched in a cold, feverish sweat, his vision blurring at the edges as the sweet, cloying scent of his Omega nature began to leak into the small space. With a sharp, pained hiss, he slammed a massive dose of suppressants into his arm, the chemical burn the only thing steadying his hands for a few precious seconds.
His phone chirped, the vibration feeling like an electric shock. He swiped it open, his breathing ragged and shallow.
"Young Master?" Chengli's voice was taut with urgency. "Yichen's people are at the front desk. They're asking questions about you, I just 'happened' to be the one they asked, I didn't tell them much. Where are you? I'm coming to get you."
"Is… is Yichen here himself?" Qixian choked out, the words scraping his throat as he fought the suffocating weight of the incoming heat.
"Yes, he's here too," Chengli confirmed, his concern radiating through the line. "Young Master? Just tell me your floor. I'm moving now."
"No!" Qixian gasped, his grip tightening on the handrail as the elevator descended. "If he sees you with me… it's over. Your history is bolted to mine. One look at you, and he'll connect me to the Zhou family. My cover will shatter."
Before Chengli could protest, Qixian snapped the call shut, his head falling back against the cold elevator wall as he waited for the doors to open into a lobby filled with the very people hunting for his secrets.
The elevator doors slid open with a clinical chime, and Qixian's heart stopped. Standing right there, as if he'd been waiting for this exact moment, was Yichen.
Qixian froze, his entire body locking up in a primal panic. He instinctively recoiled, stumbling backward into the elevator to put as much distance as possible between them. His mind screamed at his pheromones to stay leashed, but the suffocating proximity of an S-tier Alpha made the task nearly impossible.
Yichen tracked his movement with a predatory stillness. Seeing the way Qixian practically climbed the walls to avoid him, his lips curled into a dark, offended smirk.
"You're acting remarkably un-Alpha-like today," Yichen remarked, his voice dropping into a low, rumbling bass. He stepped into the elevator, the space suddenly feeling ten times smaller. With a sharp gesture, he signaled his men to remain in the lobby, then reached out and slammed the button for the top floor.
"Find another elevator," Qixian managed to choke out. His voice was faltering, cracking at the edges as he pressed his spine against the cold metal wall. "I'm not… I'm not headed to the roof."
He was shaking visibly now, his vision swimming. Every step Yichen took toward him felt like a physical weight pressing against his chest, threatening to draw out the sweet, undeniable scent of the Omega heat he was fighting to bury.
Yichen didn't move. Instead, he took a predatory step forward, closing the distance until the air between them was charged with static. He invaded Qixian's personal space, his gaze roaming over Qixian's face with clinical intensity.
"You look pale," Yichen remarked, his voice a low, dangerous purr. He leaned in, his nostrils flaring slightly. "And you smell… sweet. Did you run into an Omega on your way up? Or did you just leave one's bed?"
"Get away from me," Qixian hissed, his eyes flashing with a desperate, cornered fury as he clenched his fist.
Yichen let out a dry, mocking huff. He slowly began to release a calculated thread of his own pheromones—a heavy, stronger than S-tier Alpha monkshood scent designed to force submission. "Why so tense? Are you actually afraid of me?" He leaned in even closer, deliberately trying to scent the crook of Qixian's neck.
Qixian shoved him back with a jolt of adrenaline-fueled strength, his chest heaving. "Do you not understand the concept of personal space?" he gritted out, his teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached.
Yichen simply smirked, seemingly satisfied with the reaction. As the elevator reached a floor, he reached out and punched the button to exit. He paused in the doorway, casting a sharp, warning glance over his shoulder. "A word of advice, don't you dare spend your rut with Haoran."
The doors slid shut, finally cutting off Yichen's suffocating presence. Qixian immediately collapsed against the wall, fumbling for his phone as he slammed the button for the lobby.
"Young Master?!" Chengli's voice exploded through the speaker the second he picked up.
"Get me out of here," Qixian gasped, his voice fractured and breathless. "Wait for me at the main entrance. I'm in the elevator."
'That damn Gu Yichen,' Qixian thought, his mind spiraling in a haze of heat and rage. 'Who lets out their pheromones like that when someone is clearly unwell?' Qixian frustratedly complained.