Dou Changxiao’s car was parked nearby, and the two soon reached the vicinity of the parking spot.

Yet the closer they got to the spot, the more Dou Changxiao and Ning Zhu unconsciously slowed their pace.

Dou Changxiao hadn’t looked back at Ning Zhu once along the way, his head bowed in thought.

He had been raised by his grandfather, Dou Linyuan, who was both deeply traditional and intensely devoted.

Dou Linyuan was erudite and possessed great integrity—the elder Dou Changxiao respected most. Having been immersed in his grandfather’s influence since childhood, Dou Changxiao had absorbed nearly all of his grandfather’s admirable qualities.

Even accidentally brushing Ning Zhu’s waist at Anjiang Square left Dou Changxiao feeling awkward for ages. The drunken indiscretion video? Just one more glance would make him explode.

Casually letting other Omegas smell his pheromones was, in his view, utterly indecent behavior.

Their pace was already slow, and now, with deliberate dawdling, they moved scarcely faster than snails.

But even the slowest journey eventually reached its destination.

Dou Changxiao silently unlocked the car while Ning Zhu, mute as a mouse, circled to the passenger door and pulled it open.

Last time he’d sat in this same passenger seat, but back then his mind had been consumed with scheming how to lure Dou Changxiao down a path of no return, leaving him oblivious to everything else. Now, as he settled in, he took a quick look around the interior.

Apart from the essential equipment, the car contained almost no unnecessary decorations. The only item that could be considered decorative was a silver metal tag hanging beneath the rearview mirror. Shaped like a bone, it appeared to be a pet dog tag.

The cord holding the tag was short, its length barely reaching the bottom of the mirror to avoid obstructing the view. Only the small dog tag peeked out from below, making it easy to overlook at first glance.

Ning Zhuo was about to examine it more closely when the driver’s door opened. Dou Changxiao ducked his head to enter, and Ning Zhuo shifted his gaze away, feeling slightly awkward.

Both men fell silent for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts.

After all, it was Ning Zhuo who had requested to experience the other’s pheromones. He couldn’t afford to act coy now.

He was adept at feigning composure. Raising his hand, he rubbed the isolation switch on his collar. When he turned back to look at Dou Changxiao moments later, his face already held a hint of a smile. “I turned off the isolation on my collar,” he said.

Your turn.

Dou Changxiao caught the unspoken meaning in those words and touched his own wristband.

Loyalty, devotion, and keeping promises—these were the most important qualities Dou Linyuan had taught him by word and deed. During his youth, Dou Changxiao had been too preoccupied managing his excess adolescent energy to notice any Omegas who might catch his eye, so he rarely had the chance to practice the former. But the latter, he had always done well.

He never doubted he would become an Alpha as exceptional as his grandfather—a worthy mate.

Pheromones should be reserved for an Omega you care for.

But that Ning…

Dou Changxiao felt a deep guilt toward his potential future mate. Perhaps it was better not to seek them out at all. Otherwise, he would never be able to hold his head high in their presence.

He felt like someone about to stray from the path. Two roads stretched before him: one marked by the strict code of conduct he’d followed since childhood, the other leading directly away from it.

Dou Changxiao hovered one foot over the latter path, poised to step forward yet hesitating, his inner resolve violently shaken.

“Do you want to back out…” Seeing Dou Changxiao’s hesitation, Ning Zhu couldn’t help but voice his suspicion.

Dou Changxiao turned to look at him.

Ning Zhu watched him with pursed lips, unease flickering in his eyes. It seemed that if Dou Changxiao truly intended to back out, Ning Zhu would only sigh silently, get out of the car, and walk away—taking no action against him.

Truthfully, there was little he could do anyway.

Dou Changxiao remained silent.

Moments later, the car filled with the subtle, lingering scent of coconut.

Ning Zhu detected the fragrance, shifted his body slightly, tilted his face upward, and sniffed intently for a while.

He remarked casually, “Your pheromones are sweeter than ordinary coconuts.”

He’d thought this while drinking that coconut at Ren Hongyuan’s birthday banquet yesterday—so it hadn’t been a mistake after all.

Dou Changxiao: “…”

Ning Zhu continued, “It smells wonderful.”

After his cheerful comment, he turned to look at Dou Changxiao and noticed the other’s nostrils twitching ever so slightly—a physical reaction reminiscent of feeling wronged.

“…”

Ning Zhu froze, his happy expression stiffening on his face.

Like some clueless little brat in school who bullied his cute female desk-mate until she cried, then stood there dumbfounded and helpless.

Wh-wh-what’s wrong? What is this…

No, it’s just smelling pheromones, right?

For a split second, Ning Zhu almost thought his eyes had reddened. But they hadn’t. When he looked again, Dou Changxiao appeared completely unchanged, his gaze as still as a stagnant pool. Even the fleeting hint of hurt Ning Zhu thought he’d glimpsed earlier seemed like a figment of his imagination.

Still shaken, Ning Zhu hesitated before asking, “Would you like… to try sniffing my pheromones too?”

Dou Changxiao replied, “No need. I’m not interested.”

His tone was calm, everything normal. The alarm was off.

Ning Zhu exhaled in relief.

Dou Changxiao turned his head to look out the car window.

Regretting mistakes already made was pointless. After a long while, he turned back and said, “Why did you want my pheromones?”

Ning Zhu: “Hm? Because… I was curious.”

Dou Changxiao: “Now that you’ve smelled it, doesn’t that satisfy your curiosity? You asked for it twice.”

Ning Zhu touched the side of his neck, his fingertips tracing the outer edge of the collar. He hesitated.

He wasn’t sure if he should mention the defect in his scent glands.

First, it was his weakness, and Ning Zhu disliked showing vulnerability to others.

Second, based on his limited interactions with Dou Changxiao, though outwardly unapproachable, the man was surprisingly soft-hearted. Ning Zhu feared Dou Changxiao might make the wrong decision out of pity.

His gland treatment was an extremely lengthy process, requiring a matched Alpha to provide pheromones continuously for years. If sympathy or other factors were introduced, while beneficial to Ning Zhu, it would inevitably become a major headache for Dou Changxiao in the future.

Therefore, his initial hope was to establish a purely transactional relationship with Dou Changxiao, free of any other complications. They would proceed while awaiting results from the matching database. Should the latter yield any leads, their transactional relationship could conclude whenever Dou Changxiao deemed fit.

Little did he expect this kid’s bottom line to be Schrödinger’s bottom line—and stubborn as hell at that…

He remained silent, and Dou Changxiao pressed no further.

The cabin held no scent of leather or perfume—only a clean, crisp air. All Ning Zhu could detect was the other’s pheromones.

Perhaps influenced by their compatibility, Ning Zhu found the scent particularly appealing. It smelled like the warm summer sun, drawing him into a state of relaxation. His nerves, bathed in tranquility, gradually succumbed to drowsiness.

The passenger seat suddenly fell silent. Dou Changxiao was about to tell Ning Zhu it was time to get out when he turned and saw the other’s head resting against the window, eyes closed in sleep.

“…”

Dou Changxiao stared expressionlessly at Ning Zhu’s profile for a moment.

Suddenly, the other person frowned slightly in his sleep, looking quite uncomfortable as he shrank back.

This man seemed to be in poor health. After fainting at the art exhibition last time, Dou Changxiao had checked Ning Zhu’s temperature and sensed a slight fever.

Earlier at Anjiang Plaza, Dou Changxiao had also sensed something off about this person’s condition today, though he hadn’t voiced his concern at the time.

Dou Changxiao reached out, intending to touch Ning Zhu’s forehead, but paused just as his hand neared.

He withdrew his hand slightly, glanced at the rearview mirror beside him, and instead began to fiddle with the small, bone-shaped dog tag.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

He didn’t know how much time had passed.

In his hazy consciousness, Ning Zhu felt someone touch his forehead.

His eyelashes fluttered twice as he opened his eyes halfway, still drowsy.

A shadow loomed before him, jolting him more awake. His voice was muffled: “Hm?”

Dou Changxiao withdrew his hand at the same moment.

Ning Zhuo sat up straight, his reaction delayed by two seconds. “Sorry,” he said. “Your pheromones are incredibly sleep-inducing.”

Dou Changxiao: “…”

He pressed his thumb against the knuckle of his index finger, where a faint warmth—not his own—lingered.

Dou Changxiao said, “You have a slight fever.”

Ning Zhu froze, then realized Dou Changxiao had just taken his temperature.

Though he didn’t understand why, he answered first: “Oh… no. My body temperature is naturally higher than others’. It’s not a fever.”

Ning Zhu didn’t know the exact reason—he’d been born this way. Perhaps because of his high body heat, he’d always had more energy as a child. But whenever he caught a cold or fever, the thermometer readings were always alarmingly high.

That’s why, after leaving home, he chose the character “Candle” for his name.

Ning Zhu hadn’t always gone by this name. He’d changed it during a break before his senior year of high school.

It happened to be the Mid-Autumn Festival that day. His dorm mates had all gone home, leaving him alone in the classroom studying until evening. When he ventured out for a stroll after dark, he stumbled upon the remnants of a moon-worshiping ceremony that had already dispersed.

Every year during the Mid-Autumn Festival in Beicheng, traditional customs like moon worship and sky lantern releases were held. Unfortunately, the school was quite far from the lantern release site, so Ning Zhu had never had the chance to join in the festivities.

The moon worship event seemed to be an advertisement organized by a merchant. After the crowd dispersed, the offerings on the altar were cleared away, leaving only two cheap incense sticks burning halfway down. One of them had a large flame, its flickering light in the wind almost appearing hot.

Ning Zhu didn’t know why his gaze was drawn to them. After staring for a moment, he suddenly felt that this thing, burning so hard, so warm yet fleeting, bore some resemblance to himself. And so, he rashly changed his name.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Seeing Dou Changxiao still watching him with obvious distrust, Ning Zhu laughed wryly. “Really. It’s been like this since I was little. My neck is the warmest part of me. In winter, the neighbor’s kitten always loved burrowing into my neck.”

Not a fever? Dou Changxiao paused.

So his fainting at the art exhibition last time wasn’t due to a cold or fever either? Then what was the reason…

As Ning Zhu spoke, he tugged at the necklace with his finger. As if he intended to remove it and let someone test the warmth…

Dou Changxiao turned his face away.

After waking up, Ning Zhu seemed to be in better spirits.

He glanced at his wristwatch and realized he’d slept quite a while at Dou Changxiao’s place. He’d thought he’d just closed his eyes for a two-minute nap, but over half an hour had passed.

This kid had patience—waiting this long without calling him.

“I need to get back to the office,” Ning Zhu said.

Dou Changxiao: “Now?”

It was already past eight. If he went back now, he’d be working until who knows when.

Ning Zhu hesitated at the question.

Returning to the office now, handling those contract documents, and then going home would indeed be a hassle.

He’d taken his medication half an hour ago tonight, so his condition should improve by tomorrow. Rather than grinding it out late into the night, it would be more efficient to arrive an hour early tomorrow.

“…Forget it.” He changed his mind.

Going back to the office meant walking to meet Old Zhao. Feeling lazy, Ning Zhu asked the person beside him, “Changxiao, which route are you taking?”

“Not the one that goes to your place.”

Ning Zhu: “…”

He chuckled as he reached for the door handle.

The car was still locked. He tugged at the handle but couldn’t pull it open.

He turned his head, about to ask Dou Changxiao to unlock the door, only to see the other person turning the key and starting the engine.

This kid really was… adorably stubborn.

The car’s navigation still had Ning Zhu’s address saved from over half a month ago. Dou Changxiao had forgotten to delete it, but he set the destination smoothly.

Ning Zhu smiled and said, “Thanks,” then fastened his seatbelt.

The evening rush hour had passed, and traffic flowed smoothly. They arrived at their destination before long.

“Oh, right…” Just before getting out, Ning Zhu remembered something and said to Dou Changxiao, “Let’s exchange WeChat contacts. It’ll be easier to get in touch next time.”

“…”

Dou Changxiao gave him a light, dismissive glance and replied with a surprisingly agreeable “Sure.”

Ning Zhu instinctively reached into his pocket, only to find nothing but the air he’d stuffed there moments ago.

Ning Zhu: “…”

Dou Changxiao stared at him, waiting patiently for several seconds.

Ning Zhu froze in awkwardness.

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

His throat rolled slightly. He cleared his voice to buy time, frantically brainstorming a way out.

“My WeChat is my phone number. You can look it up when you get back.” Before Ning Zhu could explain, Dou Changxiao looked away and said, “I have things to do.”

Ning Zhu relaxed inwardly. “…Oh. Okay.”

Without his phone, where could he look up his number… Getting a replacement SIM card would take who knows how long. Why was he having such bad luck with phones lately? Losing two in less than a month…

He pushed open the car door and stepped out, shifting half a step to the side to make room.

Dou Changxiao started the engine.

Perhaps knowing they’d meet again, Ning Zhu felt surprisingly lighthearted this time, unlike his previous farewells to Dou Changxiao.

As the car slowly pulled away, he waved at its rear, unsure if anyone inside had seen him.