Delicate, Yet Shamelessly Freeloading [Quick Transmigration] Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Alpha with Pheromone Disorder (28)

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【Boys need to be careful when they go out.】

 

【Especially when it comes to protecting their privacy.】

 

Outside the closed door, an Alpha with a red handprint on his face waited.

 

Inside, the ever-watchful monitor lingered like a ghost.

 

【Don’t let others think you’re too easy.】

 

The monitor had the privilege of observing employees from a god-like perspective 24/7, tracking their every action. However, the main system accounted for privacy concerns, automatically censoring necessary moments with holy light.

 

System 77 had explained this to Shui Que before.

 

The clothes fresh out of the dryer still carried the scent of lavender detergent. Shui Que sat on the bed, absentmindedly pulling up the thin shorts hanging loosely around his ankles.

 

His actions were anything but subtle—deliberately nonchalant, even defiant. His sweater bunched up around his waist due to his careless movements.

 

The fabric slid up his legs, eventually wrapping snugly around his full, rounded curves.

 

As for the observer, all they could see—aside from a small glimpse of his upper thighs just above the knees—was an overwhelming, blinding holy light.

 

【……】

 

Shui Que deliberately snapped, 【Who asked you?】

 

【You’re just as much of a pervert as he is.】

 

Hurriedly, he yanked on his outer pants, slipped on his socks, and stomped out, dragging along oversized fuzzy slippers several sizes too big.

 

How had he not realized sooner? Xie Xiangxun wasn’t just a pervert—he was an alpha pervert!

 

He had to go home!

 

Part of the reason for his sudden departure was the fear that Xie Xiangxun would realize what was happening, get angry out of embarrassment, and throw him into a holding cell…

 

If he demanded repayment, then most of the soft rice points Shui Que had accumulated in this world would be gone.

 

He decided that running away was the best course of action.

 

Just as he twisted the doorknob open—

 

A tall German Shepherd sat right outside the door.

 

To say its posture was dignified would be an understatement. It sat with impeccable poise, head held high, chest puffed out, its profile exuding pride.

 

Its nose was black, and its brown fur had just been washed and dried, leaving it smooth and sleek.

 

The soft click of the door unlocking caught its attention. It glanced at Shui Que out of the corner of its eye, then deliberately turned away as if uninterested.

 

Its body had the sculpted elegance of an ancient civilization’s statue.

 

It really did resemble his childhood stuffed dog.

 

Standing nearby and receiving not a single glance, Xie Xiangxun eventually gave in and spoke first. “You can pet him.”

 

“Really?” Shui Que’s eyes lit up with excitement, completely forgetting his plan to go home.

 

He crouched down, extending his hand to let the German Shepherd get familiar with his scent.

 

Xie Xiangxun was nearly mesmerized by the way Shui Que’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.

 

“York likes you.”

 

He said.

 

“He usually doesn’t initiate contact with humans.”

 

Let alone deliberately wait outside a bedroom door, posing with such dignity.

 

Xie Xiangxun saw through him immediately.

 

The German Shepherd sniffed Shui Que’s hand lightly before finally resting its muzzle in his palm.

 

Surprisingly gentle.

 

It seemed like an entirely well-mannered, emotionally stable large dog.

 

Shui Que’s eyes practically radiated with joy as he ran his fingers—tentative but gentle—over the fur on the dog’s head.

 

York narrowed his eyes slightly in contentment. His tail began to sway slowly, a clear sign of goodwill.

 

Softly, Shui Que asked, “Can I call you ‘Coalball’?”

 

It was the name of his stuffed dog from over a decade ago—one he had never forgotten.

 

As if someone had flipped a switch, the moment he said “Coalball,” York’s tail started wagging like a helicopter rotor.

 

“He likes that name,” Xie Xiangxun said on his behalf.

 

How odd.

 

York had never wagged his tail so enthusiastically at him.

 

Most of the time, York’s emotions were reserved, unlike typical dogs.

 

Xie Xiangxun wasn’t the type to get jealous just because his dog of five years seemed to like Shui Que more.

 

People always said pets took after their owners, and it was perfectly natural for a dog’s preferences to align with those of its human.

 

Watching Shui Que’s whole heart and mind become absorbed in York, Xie Xiangxun suddenly felt as though his own worth had risen simply by association.

 

“York goes for a run every morning,” Xie Xiangxun mentioned.

 

Shui Que looked up at him, cheeks flushed pink. His crouched posture caused a soft dip in his slim waist, forming a dangerously attractive curve.

 

Whatever he had eaten growing up had clearly done wonders—his skin was smooth and fair. He looked slender, but Xie Xiangxun distinctly remembered that when he had lifted him earlier, the plush flesh at his thighs and hips had almost swallowed up his hands.

 

His nose felt hot.

 

Realizing he was heading down a dangerous train of thought, Xie Xiangxun quickly averted his gaze, forcing his mind to cool down.

 

“He hasn’t been to Haicheng before and isn’t familiar with the area. Would you be interested in taking him for a run in the morning?”

 

Shui Que had originally planned to avoid Xie Xiangxun at all costs until he left this world.

 

But the German Shepherd kept nudging his palm insistently with its head.

 

Fine.

 

It wasn’t like he couldn’t do it.

 

＊

 

It didn’t take long for Shui Que to realize why Xie Xiangxun had invited him to familiarize York with the area.

 

He hadn’t noticed earlier, but the house Xie Xiangxun lived in was in the same gated community as the Song family’s semi-mountainous villas. In fact, it was less than a twenty-minute walk away.

 

He was indeed familiar with the area—enough to serve as a perfect little guide dog.

 

Winter nights fell early.

 

As dusk settled, the distant cries of crows faded into the canopy of Chinese parasol trees in the front courtyard.

 

Shui Que arrived home right on time—not early, not late.

 

This was mostly due to the fact that his strict older brother had a rule: he wasn’t allowed to stay out past nine.

 

While changing his shoes at the entrance, he called out, “Brother, I’m home.”

 

The man, usually dressed in formal suits, was now in comfortable loungewear. Around his waist was the bear-themed apron Shui Que had picked out for him during a trip to the supermarket.

 

He walked out from inside.

 

“You’re back? Had fun?”

 

Song Qin’s voice faltered as his gaze landed on something behind Shui Que.

 

 

 

 

The golden lenses refracted, concealing the shadowy gaze.

 

Standing at the doorway, the Alpha had his hands stuffed into his pockets, his hair casually streaked with dyed highlights, and a roguish smile playing on his lips.

 

Even with Xie Xiangxun’s composed demeanor supporting him, and despite the fact that Song Qin could be considered an old acquaintance of his, in Song Qin’s eyes, this man was no different in essence from those hooligan youths living in lawless neighborhoods—the kind who ride motorcycles through the streets at midnight, making a racket, and forcibly stop passersby.

 

People like that especially love to target innocent-looking, seemingly easy-to-bully boys on the street—slamming their brakes to a sudden stop, blocking the boy’s path, then grinning as they spit out some obscene, shameless words. If their target shows fear, they become even more brazen, shamelessly and without boundaries, reaching out to touch the boy’s face.

 

Xie Xiangxun had no idea that Song Qin had mentally classified him as one of those undisciplined, self-indulgent Alphas. He naturally greeted him, “Hey, long time no see.”

 

Admittedly, back in their reckless youth, he and Song Qin had clashed many times, mutually disliking each other. However, considering that Song Qin was his future brother-in-law and they would inevitably cross paths, it was wise to smooth things over.

 

“…”

 

Song Qin remained silent.

 

Shui Que, oblivious to his grim expression, cheerfully chimed in, “Brother, this is… Hmm, wait, you two already know each other, so I guess I don’t need to introduce him.”

 

For the first time ever, his brother didn’t follow his lead in conversation. That was highly unusual.

 

Song Qin took a sweeping glance.

 

The white down jacket Shui Que had worn when he left that morning had been swapped for a short black coat. Given his petite frame, the short coat looked almost regular-length on him. The stark contrast of black against his pale skin made his face seem even more porcelain-like. However, this style and color were clearly not something he would normally choose.

 

On the other hand, Xie Xiangxun had, quite deliberately, paired his outfit with a matching black trench coat before stepping out.

 

It wasn’t hard to guess who the coat belonged to.

 

A sudden sense of absurdity washed over Song Qin.

 

It felt as if this all-black, funeral-styled Alpha was about to say, “Hey, old man, your ghostly bike is parked downstairs.”

 

“…”

 

The door slammed shut. The loud bang startled a flock of sparrows, sending them scattering into the sky.

 

“Uncle Chen, see him out.”

 

The butler, though confused, followed the order without question.

 

“Brother?”

 

Even Shui Que, as slow as he could sometimes be, noticed that something was off with Song Qin’s mood. This was not how one reacted upon seeing an old childhood friend.

 

He hesitated, glancing back. Simply shutting the door in someone’s face felt rude, especially since he hadn’t even said goodbye to York, who was still waiting at the street corner.

 

After a moment of hesitation, he decided to follow Song Qin inside, his soft slippers padding noisily against the floor.

 

He stole a glance up at him. Without the reflection of his lenses, Song Qin’s eyes were clearly laced with frost, his face clouded with a stormy expression.

 

Shui Que was puzzled.

 

What was going on?

 

Hadn’t Xie Xiangxun just told him on the way over that they had known each other since childhood? Surely their relationship wasn’t so bad…

 

Song Qin disliked pointless family gatherings, and since his divorced parents were both living abroad with no plans to return, the household staff had all been given time off.

 

That left only the two of them for New Year’s Eve dinner. But despite the small gathering, the feast was lavish. Song Qin had even taken a short crash course in cooking, and half the dishes on the long dining table were prepared by him. The other half were made by Aunt Wu, who had been too worried to leave until she ensured the meal was fully set.

 

When he had first arrived, he couldn’t even be bothered to cook himself a bowl of noodles in the morning. Now, his recipe collection had been updated countless times.

 

Shui Que thought that at least half of Song Qin’s progress in cooking was thanks to him, because no matter what Song Qin made, he always praised it as delicious.

 

Helping his brother acknowledge his own interest in cooking—that could be considered Shui Que’s way of making up for being such a troublemaker of a younger sibling.

 

The story’s progress had reached 85%.

 

He felt a little reluctant to move on. Who knew if, in the next world, there would still be someone willing to cook for him?

 

His thoughts were always written all over his face. The overseer, noticing his concerns, comforted him:

 

[Don’t worry, four-legged dogs might be hard to find, but two-legged cooks aren’t exactly rare.]

 

Shui Que scowled. [You’re not allowed to say that.]

 

Even if he was a troublemaker, the kindness Song Qin showed him was genuine. He liked their current sibling relationship just the way it was.

 

But once Song Qin found out the truth about him, he would undoubtedly be devastated. Most likely, he’d ship him off abroad just to be rid of him.

 

From the first to the sixth day of the new year, an official holiday, Song Qin had initially planned to take Shui Que on a trip. But no matter how much he tried to convince him, Shui Que refused to go, as if he had a hidden treasure buried nearby that he needed to guard.

 

Every morning, he would leave early and return with sweat beading on his forehead.

 

The weather was still chilly, with the lingering bite of spring frost. If he didn’t dry off properly and take a warm shower after sweating, he was bound to catch a cold sooner or later.

 

On top of that, he was acting suspiciously secretive, unwilling to explain where he had been.

 

Then, yet another morning, he came back.

 

Thinking he had concealed everything perfectly, Shui Que nonchalantly strolled through the living room—until Song Qin reached out and grabbed his hood.

 

The light blue coat had a detachable hood, connected by buttons on either side. The hood wasn’t deep, making it easy to spot the glaringly obvious red tucked inside.

 

A wooden cane tapped twice against the floor, its oppressive presence looming.

 

“Roses. Where did they come from?”

 

Song Qin plucked a single rose from the cluster stuffed into the hood, waving it before Shui Que’s eyes—a clear indication that he had been caught red-handed.

 

Shui Que glanced up at him and hesitantly explained, “The neighbor’s puppy gave them to me.”

 

They didn’t even have neighbors.

 

Song Qin remained silent.

 

Shui Que shrank his neck, burying half his face into his fluffy white scarf. His hair had grown a little longer, left untrimmed, soft strands falling over his brows. Only his bright, watery eyes were fully visible.

 

Judging by those eyes alone, he certainly didn’t look like the kind of boy who would lie through his teeth.

 

Song Qin’s gaze sharpened.

 

Well, there had been one neighbor before. And now, that neighbor had moved back.

 

Neighbor.

 

Song Qin, suddenly alert, yanked down Shui Que’s scarf. His fingers clamped around both sides of Shui Que’s face, exerting just enough pressure that he wouldn’t be able to escape.

 

After being brought back to the Song family, Shui Que had finally gained some weight. His once sharp chin was now soft enough that, when pinched between two fingers, his cheeks puffed up slightly.

 

Shui Que was forced to tilt his head up. His squished face distorted slightly, and his lips, pressed together, gleamed with a faintly moist sheen.

 

Feeling suffocated, he tried to pry Song Qin’s iron grip off him, struggling to speak. “Brother…”

 

Song Qin’s expression remained impassive.

 

“Open your mouth.”

 

?

 

Completely lost.

 

He was utterly confused, yet he still opened his mouth.

 

His soft red tongue stayed quietly hidden in his mouth. His lips were a pale pink, lacking the overly bruised and swollen hue he had seen before—the kind that came from being sucked and bitten too hard.

 

The fingertip was not soft. At first, it rubbed between his teeth, causing an itchy, tingling sensation.

 

Then, Song Qin furrowed his brows and lifted the red tip of his tongue. The wet tongue stretched out awkwardly.

 

“What are you doing…” Shui Que resisted.

 

No swelling.

 

No trace of having been licked frantically by someone.

 

He was so close—as if he wasn’t checking whether some stray dog outside had taken advantage of the boy’s tongue, but rather conducting a major scientific study in a national laboratory.

 

His glasses fogged up from the exchange of breath.

 

Caught off guard, Song Qin felt a sharp pain—Shui Que had bitten him.

 

When he pulled his finger out, a mix of clear saliva and a thin streak of blood clung between them.

 

Shui Que quickly covered his mouth and wrapped his scarf around it several times, fortifying his defense.

 

He said indignantly, “I didn’t lie.”

 

That whole thing about a tongue getting twisted when someone lies—that’s just something little kids believe.

 

He hadn’t expected Song Qin to be so naive.

 

But he had told the truth.

 

Coalball really had come to him carrying a bouquet of flowers. If he hadn’t accepted them, Coalball would’ve been heartbroken.

 

Even Shui Que knew that, logically speaking, roses weren’t in season during winter.

 

They must have been flown in as fresh-cut flowers.

 

And the choice of flowers was incredibly tacky—he didn’t even need to think to guess whose doing it was.

 

But there was nothing he could do.

 

He had York deliver them.

 

Shui Que simply couldn’t refuse.

 

Not only that—he had to carefully place them in a meticulously selected vase and display them in the most prominent spot in his bedroom.

 

Song Qin: “……”

 

Before bed, Song Qin silently entered Shui Que’s room.

 

“This is the card Father left for you before he went abroad.”

 

There wasn’t much money on it. That sentimental old man had long lost the sense of responsibility a younger alpha would naturally feel for his child. He had no intention of properly raising this illegitimate son he had brought back and had completely handed him over to the eldest son, who had already inherited the family business.

 

The card only held twenty million. In a family as wealthy as the Songs, this was an unvarnished statement of how little they cared about this illegitimate son.

 

Shui Que took the card. System 77 didn’t announce any soft rice points in the background like he had expected. After all, the card had originally been intended for Song Shui Que, so it didn’t qualify for calculating his soft rice points status.

 

Song Qin observed his expression. He couldn’t tell if Shui Que was happy or not.

 

At first, Shui Que had been pestering him to hand over the card that the “old man” left for him. But now, after half a year, did he not care anymore?

 

Song Qin had originally planned to hold onto the card until Shui Que graduated. In his mind, Shui Que was still a student, and his expenses weren’t that high. The Song family had never been wasteful, nor did they lack financial discipline. The previous arrangement of thirty thousand per month had only been to help Shui Que develop good money management habits.

 

But now…

 

Even the card didn’t matter to him anymore. That could only mean…

 

Song Qin’s brows knitted tightly.

 

After a long silence, he finally handed over another card—one he had prepared in advance. A black and gold card.

 

“The password is your birthday.”

 

System 77’s soft rice points tracker crashed.

 

Shui Que blinked slowly, a beat behind.

 

He carefully put the card away, making sure it was secure.

 

Then, he glanced up at Song Qin and took hold of his still-unhealed hand.

 

Blowing softly on the spot where he had bitten earlier, he asked in a delicate voice, “Does it still hurt, brother?”

 

The tension inside Song Qin melted away. That tight, suffocating feeling in his chest disappeared.

 

So, parenting advice wasn’t entirely right after all.

 

Who said only Omegas needed to be spoiled?

 

Clearly, Alphas needed to be spoiled too, or else they’d end up being snatched away by other Alphas.

 

＊

 

The weekend after the Lunar New Year break was a working day due to schedule adjustments.

 

After breakfast, Song Qin left for the office.

 

Shui Que’s winter break, however, was only halfway through. Other than taking York on morning runs and live-streaming for about an hour each evening, he had nothing to do all day.

 

Shui Que was starting to think Xie Xiangxun had way too much free time.

 

He had supposedly entrusted him with full responsibility for walking the dog, yet he still followed him and York around every single day.

 

Finally, a workday arrived.

 

Shui Que had expected that when he got to the Xie family’s villa, York would be waiting for him at the door alone.

 

But the moment he stepped outside, he saw an Alpha in a black jacket standing in his front yard, holding the leash of a German Shepherd.

 

Snow fell from the tree branches, landing perfectly on the shoulder of the black jacket, leaving a small damp spot.

 

Xie Xiangxun quickly brushed the snow off, his palm getting wet in the process.

 

He extremely cherished it.

 

Ever since Shui Que had returned it, Xie Xiangxun had worn it almost every day. He must have really liked it to begin with.

On the day he lent it out, it even got wet. Yet he still let Shui Que borrow it—he really was quite generous.

 

Shui Que thought to himself.

 

Oh, but he had always been a generous fool with too much money. Otherwise, why would he just call him ‘Brother Xiangxun’ and have money rain down on him?

 

Sometimes, Shui Que wanted to forward him the anti-fraud videos that Song Qin sent him.

 

This guy probably needed them more.

 

Kicking at the snow with his low-top sneakers, not caring that the gray slush dirtied the edges, he reluctantly walked up to Xie Xiangxun.

 

Taking the leash, Xie Xiangxun half-complained, half-teased, “I specifically waited until your brother left before coming into the yard. I’ve been waiting for over an hour.”

 

“It’s been years, but Song Qin’s gotten even worse. How is he this stingy? He won’t even let you hang out with me? Controlling your freedom to make friends?”

 

Something felt off about his tone, but Shui Que couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. For some reason, it reminded him of those ‘mistress’ characters in melodramatic dramas who always got roasted by online commenters.

 

He quietly defended Song Qin: “Don’t talk bad about my brother. He’s not controlling my freedom to make friends.”

 

“Really?” Xie Xiangxun raised an eyebrow, his tone displeased. “Then why is it that every time I come looking for you, he always shuts the door in my face?”

 

He crossed his arms and waited for Shui Que to explain. “Does he really think I’m going to be a bad influence on you?”

 

Xie Xiangxun was born with a naturally split eyebrow and a pair of phoenix eyes—a look that older generations generally disapproved of. He always gave off an intense, somewhat wicked vibe.

 

No wonder Song Qin always resisted interacting with him. To be honest, it wasn’t just because Song Qin had traditional and somewhat stereotypical tastes; even most people, upon seeing Xie Xiangxun, would probably assume he was a spoiled rich kid who liked to pick on delicate, fair-skinned boys like Shui Que.

 

But heaven could testify—when he pulled Shui Que up from the riverside that day, that had been the first time since learning to walk as a toddler that Xie Xiangxun had held someone’s hand. And of course, he had carried him too.

 

That entire night, Xie Xiangxun dreamt of holding Shui Que in his arms.

 

He had woken up the next morning feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

 

Shui Que didn’t want to follow Xie Xiangxun’s train of thought—he didn’t want people thinking he held stereotypes too.

 

So he simply changed the subject. “Don’t you have a job or something?”

 

How could he be even more idle than Shui Que?

 

He thought he’d finally get a chance to walk the dog alone today.

 

York, clearly getting impatient with their conversation, began circling around Shui Que. Shui Que gently patted the German Shepherd’s head to calm him down and continued walking.

 

Xie Xiangxun reached over and tugged the leash from Shui Que’s hand, bringing the end of it to York’s mouth. As expected, the dog expertly bit down on it and, showing impressive self-management, started walking himself.

 

York had gotten familiar with the area over the past few days. The hillside villas weren’t in a long-developed area, and the distance between each villa was quite far. On top of that, very few people lived around here, so the roads were usually empty.

 

York, being a large breed, was quite aware of his size and naturally avoided people. So neither Xie Xiangxun nor Shui Que were too concerned.

 

Instead of immediately answering Shui Que’s question, Xie Xiangxun asked,


”Want to go to the supermarket and buy something for Coalball?”

 

It was a weekday morning, and the large supermarket was nearly empty.

 

They entered through a full glass automatic door. The shiny floor tiles were marked with signs reading “Pet Friendly.”

 

“This supermarket belongs to our family,” Xie Xiangxun said, glancing over at Shui Que, who was holding York’s leash. He added seriously, “So inspecting the place is technically part of my job.”

 

His tone didn’t seem like he was joking.

 

Seeing that Shui Que looked like he believed him, Xie Xiangxun chuckled. “Just kidding.”

 

“It’s just part of the company’s culture. I figured I might as well finish using up my leave days, no need to swap shifts or anything.” He shrugged.

 

Pushing the shopping cart together as they slowly strolled through the store—this was the kind of simple thing couples did.

 

But they weren’t a couple yet.

 

So this made the moment feel far more significant.

 

Xie Xiangxun pushed the cart with one hand, the other—closest to Shui Que—tucked into his pocket.

 

Every now and then, he snuck a glance at Shui Que’s exposed hand sticking out of the puffy coat sleeve.

 

He didn’t even dare hold it.

 

In that moment, he seemed completely like a shy, innocent boy in love—nothing like the reckless Alpha who had brazenly touched someone’s upper thigh just days before.

 

York hadn’t been to this supermarket before and was busy sniffing the air.

 

Most of what he smelled was the store’s fragrance diffusers.

 

“York loves this brand’s duck jerky the most,” Xie Xiangxun said, pulling a bag off the shelf and dropping it into the cart. York, recognizing the familiar packaging, wagged his tail in response.

 

Shui Que watched as Xie Xiangxun added an entire bag of frozen blueberries to the cart.

 

“Can dogs eat blueberries?”

 

“Of course they can.” Xie Xiangxun met his curious gaze and explained, “Aside from things like grapes, chocolate, and cherries, which you need to be cautious with, most foods are fine for dogs.”

 

“Blueberries, for instance, help protect their vision and prevent arthritis and heart disease. His digestion is better than most German Shepherds, and he loves frozen blueberries.”

 

“You’ve never had a dog before?”

 

Seeing Shui Que looking at him with wide, eager eyes, Xie Xiangxun couldn’t help but explain more.

 

He knew Shui Que had a deep fondness for dogs.

 

Could Song Qin really have denied him the chance to raise one?

 

Shui Que simply shook his head.

 

He had once had the chance to.

 

He had quietly slipped a note into the shoe his mom usually wore when going out.

 

Written carefully, stroke by stroke, it read:

 

“Mom, I want to raise a puppy.”

 

He’d overheard his parents talking about bringing one home after their current mission, once they’d collected their bonus—something from the base market, if they were lucky enough to find a good one.

 

He’d heard the whole conversation, but had to pretend like he hadn’t, keeping his excitement in check.

 

That day, he waited for a long time, enthusiastically rehearsing over and over the moment when his mom would walk in holding a puppy from behind her back, all mysterious-like. He planned his reactions in detail.

 

First, he’d exclaim “Wow!” and hug the puppy, then kiss his mom, and finally give his dad a hug too.

 

Unfortunately, no one ever came home.

 

York, extremely sensitive to human emotional changes, whimpered and rubbed against Shui Que’s leg, his tail wagging so fast it left a blur.

 

Shui Que crouched down and hugged him.

 

The big fluffy dog filled his arms, gently nuzzling his cheek with its snout.

 

“What about this? Does he like it?” Shui Que stood up and pulled a whole pack of yogurt from the bottom shelf freezer. The label read: fermented, chilled plain yogurt made from raw milk and Bulgarian lactobacillus—no sugar or additives.

 

York barked once, pawing at Shui Que’s pant leg, tail wagging eagerly like he wanted to eat it right away.

 

But Shui Que just patted his head and calmed him down.

 

The dog settled quickly.

 

Shui Que said, “Maybe York could be a therapy dog.”

 

Xie Xiangxun dismissed the idea. “He’s just good with you. He doesn’t bother with other people.”

 

Back at the kennel, he used to lie alone in a corner, sulking with a grumpy face all day, totally different from the excitable pups around him.

 

Almost like he was waiting for someone specific.

 

They continued shopping and picked out things like mussels, freeze-dried snacks, and deer tendon chews for York.

 

Since everything could be stored frozen, they weren’t worried about buying too much.

 

Out of nowhere, Xie Xiangxun said, “You’re nothing like the rest of the Song family.”

 

“Huh?” Shui Que was confused about what triggered that remark.

 

Xie Xiangxun particularly loved the way Shui Que looked at him—like he was the only person in his world.

 

Curled lashes, such big eyes.

 

So watery.

 

Would he flutter them nervously and close his eyes when kissed?

 

He was nothing like the cold and rigid Song family. Shui Que seemed so soft.

 

He even smelled nice.

 

Finally, Xie Xiangxun took his hand.

 

Shui Que glanced forward and instinctively pulled away.

 

At first, Xie Xiangxun thought Shui Que just didn’t want to hold hands. But then he noticed Shui Que subtly trying to hide behind him.

 

Xie Xiangxun followed his gaze and saw a tall Alpha standing at the end of an aisle in the quiet supermarket, browsing items. He hadn’t noticed them yet.

 

But judging by his route and their shopping cart’s position, he’d be walking right toward them next.

 

He was from the Lu family—the only son of the current head.

 

If memory served, he was the same age and attended Haicheng No. 1 High School, same grade as Shui Que.

 

Oh right. Xie Xiangxun almost forgot.

 

Wasn’t he the one who played the knight at this year’s New Year’s gala?

 

Without showing much emotion, Xie Xiangxun turned around to face away from the guy.

 

“Ex-boyfriend?” he whispered, careful not to attract attention.

 

Shui Que nodded, very honestly.

 

Xie Xiangxun gritted his teeth. “And that guy from the banquet the other night? The one from the Qu family? Is he an ex too?”

 

He had attended that banquet knowing Song Qin would be there, not because he wanted to, but because he’d seen the New Year’s gala list and noticed the name “Song Shui Que.”

 

Song Shui Que… Shui Shui?

 

Almost without thinking, he went—arriving fashionably late—and the moment he entered, he spotted someone heading upstairs. Only the side profile was visible, but he was sure it was Shui Que.

 

During the clinking of glasses, he faintly heard someone mention that the young master of the Song family was an Alpha—straight from Song Qin’s mouth.

 

Then a tall boy followed him upstairs.

 

Qu Jiuchao? Xie Xiangxun had seen the strange look on his face—cold with a hint of grievance—and instinctively followed, made up a lie, and sent Qu Jiuchao away.

 

He had opened door after door before finally finding the poor little kitten hiding in a cabinet.

 

Xie Xiangxun was practically grinding his teeth now. He asked again, “So both of them are your exes?”

 

Shui Que noticed something off in his tone and didn’t nod, but his eyes couldn’t hide a thing. His gaze was open and completely unguarded—clear as day.


So it was true.


Xie Xiangxun was utterly exasperated.

 

The person on the other side slowly began walking in their direction.

 

The sound of the shopping cart wheels rolling grew louder and louder.

 

Nervously, Shui Que clutched Xie Xiangxun’s sleeve, practically wishing he could shrink on the spot and hide.


But it was too late to escape now.

 

Xie Xiangxun pulled him into his arms without warning and leaned in close to his ear. “Don’t want him to come over and see?”

 

Shui Que nodded frantically, just like a pecking chick.

 

From behind, the tall Alpha in a black winter jacket almost completely covered Shui Que. Only the top of his soft, jet-black hair and the edge of his white cotton coat peeking out could be seen.

 

But if someone passed by at close range, it would be hard not to see clearly.

 

The Alpha pushing the shopping cart showed no reaction to the couple hugging and clinging to each other inside the supermarket. He wrinkled his brows in disgust but had no intention of taking a detour. He continued on the original path, heading straight toward them.

 

He was getting closer and closer. Shui Que gripped the corner of Xie Xiangxun’s jacket.

 

“Stick out your tongue,” Xie Xiangxun said.

 

Shui Que looked confused. “Huh?”

 

But the moment his mouth opened slightly, the man before him seized the opportunity and forced his tongue inside.

 

He cupped Shui Que’s cheeks almost obsessively, plunging in without restraint, deliberately chasing after that helpless, nowhere-to-hide pink tongue, stirring up wet, obscene slurping sounds.

 

Lu Fengchi, pushing the shopping cart, furrowed his brows so tightly they could crush a fly. He took off his Bluetooth earpiece—those shameless kissing noises were audible from more than ten steps away.

 

Xie Xiangxun left saliva everywhere, the moisture trailing out of Shui Que’s pale pink lips. He licked and sucked at them repeatedly, until those lips turned flushed and tender, as if they were about to drip juice.

 

When he spoke, he deliberately didn’t lower his voice:
“Baby… stick out your tongue. Let me kiss you again.”

 

Shui Que didn’t dare make a single sound, terrified that Lu Fengchi might recognize his voice.

 

But this couldn’t even be called kissing anymore—Xie Xiangxun was practically pecking at him like a woodpecker, licking and sucking until Shui Que’s tongue went numb.

 

Lu Fengchi came to a stop about five or six steps away from them.

 

He felt like he had accidentally wandered onto the set of some low-budget adult film. Even though he couldn’t clearly see who the two people were, the storyline was easy to guess.

 

A cocky guy with dyed hair had grabbed hold of an innocent little boy and was now shamelessly, half-coaxing, half-forcing him to open his mouth and stick out his tongue.

 

Who knew what that man’s hand was doing—looked like it was about to slip into the white winter coat.

 

Lu Fengchi glanced at them in disgust. What was so delicious about saliva, anyway?

 

Did they have to do this in public?

 

As a heartbroken, freshly dumped high schooler, he couldn’t stand the sight. He cursed under his breath, turned around, and left with the shopping cart.

 

Xie Xiangxun finally stopped.

 

He stared at Shui Que’s lips, now swollen and crimson, a complete mess.

 

“Have they kissed you before?” he asked in a rare, harsh tone.

 

Yes, they had.

 

And they were better at it than you.

 

But of course Shui Que couldn’t say that.

 

He was afraid of Xie Xiangxun—afraid he’d pounce on him again, hugging and biting all over.

 

So all he could do was truly pretend to be an innocent boy who had never been kissed before and shake his head.

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Huge shoutout to @candycorns2 on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.

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