Chapter 30: Alpha with Pheromone Disorder (30)
He searched all over, but didn’t find Song Qin.
There was no other way out of the villa. Once the courtyard gate was locked, there was no leaving.
Except at night, the gate was usually left open during the day for normal comings and goings.
“Uncle Chen?” Shui Que finally found someone alive in the empty house and hurried over to ask, “I want to go out—why is the courtyard gate locked?”
In his rush, he didn’t notice that the butler had clearly been avoiding him.
The man looked like a mouse caught by a cat, sweating nervously. “Well, young master, do you need to buy something? Tell me what you need and I’ll go get it for you.”
“No.” Shui Que had long since mastered the art of acting like a bratty young master who threw tantrums from time to time—and right now, he was defending his legitimate rights.
“I want to go out now!”
The butler had no choice but to try to reason with him: “Eldest Young Master said you’re not allowed to go out today. How about… you wait until he comes back, okay?”
Shui Que wasn’t buying it at all and shook his head with a stubborn face.
“If you won’t give me the key…” He paused, lips tightening. Even his threat came out in a soft, timid voice. “Then I’ll climb over the wall.”
After he finished speaking, he worried that he really might have to climb over the wall if no one stopped him.
He added slowly, “You know, the wall around the courtyard is really high. I might get hurt… I could fall off the top. It’s really dangerous…”
So please, just give him the key already.
There was no signal inside the house, and he needed to get outside and check. System 77 had said someone had already exposed him online. He had to monitor how the post was trending. Ideally, Qu Jiuchao or Lu Fengchi would come out and spill something too—maybe say he was two-timing. That way, everything would follow the original plotline to a tee.
Besides, judging from how Song Qin had gone as far as to lock him up, things must’ve already blown up pretty badly.
If he disobeyed now and ran off, wouldn’t that just pour more oil onto the fire—
Tomorrow, he was setting sail abroad!
Goodbye, York.
Goodbye, little bear toast.
But… where was York?
Shui Que suddenly realized that he hadn’t seen the German Shepherd all morning—not even once. It wasn’t in the courtyard either.
The disappearance of Coalball instantly shot to the top of his priority list.
His lashes looked like they’d just been soaked by fine rain, clinging together in damp clusters. The anxiety on his face was impossible to miss. “Uncle Chen, Coalball… where’s York?”
He stood there frozen, completely at a loss. “York’s gone.”
The housekeeper couldn’t stand to see him on the verge of tears and quickly reassured him, “Young Master, don’t worry. Eldest Young Master took it out for a walk. They’ve been gone for a while, but they should be back soon.”
Shui Que’s eyelids were still faintly red, his brows furrowed, and at this moment, his features finally showed a true hint of anger.
He wasn’t faking his anger anymore.
“Then why didn’t he say anything to me this morning?”
Truthfully, he didn’t mind Song Qin stopping him from going out—it was understandable. Things had escalated, and Song Qin probably didn’t want him making a bigger fool of himself in public, especially before figuring out how to deal with him.
But ever since Song Qin had ordered the butler to restrict his movement, he hadn’t shown his face again. Even when he went out to walk the dog, he hadn’t said a word to him.
That, Shui Que really took to heart.
He deliberately ignored the fact that he had woken up too late today, and Song Qin had gone out with the dog much earlier—making their timing simply miss each other.
With no way to get out, and unable to climb the walls—
That whole climbing-over-the-wall thing had been just a bluff.
Like he said earlier, the courtyard walls were ridiculously high. It wasn’t an exaggeration to call the place a heavily fortified mansion. He wasn’t Spider-Man from the movies; he couldn’t leap between roofs and walls—there was no way he could escape.
Continuing to trouble the butler uncle wasn’t a real solution either.
So Shui Que could only drag himself gloomily back to his room.
Unlike usual, when he would neatly place his fuzzy slippers beside the bed, this time he just kicked one leg up and let them fly off messily.
He threw himself onto the bed like a ragdoll, arms and legs spread wide. The springy mattress sank under his weight and then bounced his soft body upward slightly, before finally letting him sink deep into the comforter.
He rolled onto his side and curled up his legs, no different from a wilted, droopy little kitten.
System 77 was heartbroken enough to crash.
It squeezed itself between his clasped hands near his collarbone.
The smooth mechanical orb pressed coldly against his chest.
“Hmm?” Shui Que’s attention was drawn. “77, what’s wrong?”
“Don’t be sad, Host. I can still connect to the internet. What do you want to watch? Let’s put on a movie and wait for the male lead to come back,” System 77 tried to comfort him.
Shui Que: “You can still connect to the internet?”
He immediately sat up in bed. “Then let’s check out the post that exposed me?”
After putting on such a long show of being a cunning Alpha pretending to be an Omega and scamming people with charm, the messier the online chaos, the more it proved he had succeeded.
Shui Que wanted to evaluate the results of his performance.
Ideally, people would be cursing him as a heartless, irresponsible playboy Alpha who scams for both money and sex—boo-hoo, poor livestream viewers, classmates, and ex-boyfriends all tricked by him!
He could almost feel devil horns sprouting on top of his head.
Ah, he was so bad. He was fully immersed in his role now…
System 77 was from a higher-dimensional realm—its internet signal was unaffected by the villa’s blockers.
Its built-in connection was lightning-fast. It quickly found the original post and projected it in front of Shui Que’s eyes.
It even thoughtfully read it aloud in a flat, robotic voice.
[Shameless New Livestream Sensation Pretending to Be an Omega, Hooks Up with Multiple Fans Offline for Sex]
The beginning part of the title was accurate, but the second half was pure slander.
He was such an upright little streamer—he only tricked fans out of their money, when did he ever trick them in that way?!
Shui Que blushed.
And he certainly hadn’t done that thing…
He didn’t even want to repeat the words used in the title.
But he had to admit, it was a catchy title—eye-grabbing and explosive.
He could already imagine how badly the comments would roast him.
[Nothing much to say, the new streamer that Orange Platform’s pushing is my former schoolmate. Weak Alpha, couldn’t show his face in our school, transferred to Haicheng No. 1 High.]
[Who knew, once in the new school, he claimed to be an Omega, got two of Haicheng’s rich heirs wrapped around his finger. Had them totally obsessed. Cheated emotionally with both, and even scammed people on the Orange platform, hooked up with the top contributor offline.]
[Attached is the streamer’s Orange profile—name and avatar uncensored. Gender marked as Omega.]
[Image 1, Image 2, Screenshot 1, Screenshot 2, Image 3]
It was all written so vividly that Shui Que had to click the images.
They took a moment to load. Two of them were taken under dim streetlamps.
They only showed silhouettes—it was the night of the New Year’s party, when Qu Jiuchao had carried him.
And when Lu Fengchi snuck a kiss while he wasn’t paying attention.
He hadn’t realized he was being photographed back then.
One screenshot was of his profile page—sure enough, it did say “Omega.”
Another screenshot showed a message from the first day he streamed—Xie Xiangxun had tipped him and then asked for his WeChat ID. But strangely, the bullet comment looked different.
If Shui Que remembered right, it originally said: “Streamer, can you leave a contact? Check your private messages.”
It had clearly just been reminding him to check DMs.
But now the second half had been photoshopped into something obscene.
Shui Que’s pupils trembled.
And it got even more ridiculous.
The last image was from just yesterday—he and Xie Xiangxun had gone grocery shopping, and someone had snapped a photo of their backs outside the supermarket.
Only… the supermarket had been edited to look like a hotel.
This—this was just outright defamation!
Fortunately, netizens weren’t all fools. Not everyone believed baseless rumors.
[Before clicking, I thought—no way it’s my streamer. Turns out, it is… Naughty little boy hasn’t streamed for three days, I’ve been looping old clips till they wore thin. Now I know he wasn’t sick, just out there playing with boys. Mommy’s relieved.]
[Uh… that bullet message definitely got edited. The font doesn’t even match. But why’d you paste our dream guy’s real feelings on it?]
[Dream Guy leading the charge! Dream Guy Army, let’s GO!]
[Frog fun—what the heck is this?! Who are those two guys kissing and hugging our sweet streamer?! No shame?!]
[Impossible. OP is just making stuff up. My baby is clearly the cleanest, prettiest little boy in the world. No way he kissed a guy—I don’t believe it! (breathing fire) (jumping around) (heartbroken)]
…
[I mean… really? Total outsider here, but how are you fans so sure it’s your streamer? These pics are mostly blurry side shots and back views…]
[Oh? Why don’t you try pretending again with my baby’s avatar? Crafty little fan—trying to bait OP into dropping high-res pics of our boy? (hook finger emoji)]
[I won’t believe it unless you post a crystal-clear tongue-kiss pic with that stinky man. As everyone knows, my baby’s tongue is super pink, super red, tiny and moist—tongue-kiss pics are un-fakeable. slurp slurp]
…
[Good lord… (facepalm laugh, helpless) If you’re going to Photoshop, at least do a better job. The road tiles in front of the supermarket near my house haven’t changed. There’s no hotel there at all. But hey, thanks—I didn’t know my streamer had been to that store before. I missed him. Heartbroken.]
[Who told you to post this late at night?! You realize I had a fever dream after reading it, and now I wake up to everyone already chatting about it!]
……..
【Wuwuwu I’m so sorry, I’m such a bad mom. Just thinking about our baby getting happily invited to a hotel by that top fan who threw money like crazy, only for that fan to find out the truth—that he’s actually an Alpha pretending to be an Omega—and then completely losing it, licking his “wife” all night long until he even drank all the water from baby’s mouth… I just wuwuwuwuwu…】
【Honestly, I don’t even know this streamer. Just wanted to say: Omegas are usually weaker, their health isn’t good, they get sick easily when overwhelmed… but Alphas, no matter how weak, shouldn’t be that fragile, right? With such a small frame, how did he even dare to pretend to be an Omega? Isn’t that just asking for someone to be rough with him?】
“I’m not looking anymore!” Shui Que snatched the floating screen and stuffed the system under the blanket.
System 77, a beat too slow to react, was still reading the last message when it was suddenly plunged into darkness. Shui Que’s body collapsed face-down onto the bedding, his voice full of shame and anger: “Stop reading! Stop reading!”
Ahhhh what were these netizens and fake fans even saying?!
How could they say something that outrageous!
And hardly any of them were normal users—most were fans who came sniffing out the gossip from the livestream.
Maybe the post was still too new to get enough exposure…
Were there really no rational netizens left this time around?!
…No wonder people always said you couldn’t count on internet users.
Maybe—
Maybe even his classmates who’d been with him day in and day out couldn’t accept that he suddenly turned out to be an Alpha?
Shui Que buried his face for a while, only reaching out when the burning heat on his cheeks finally died down. From under the blanket pressed to his chest, he pulled out the dazed and dizzy System 77.
＊
He told 77 to find the group chat he’d joined before.
It was a Lu Fengchi fan group he’d joined via the school forum. The members were probably cursing him to death now—after all, he had pretended to be an Omega to seduce Lu Fengchi, even deceived his feelings. At this moment, if Shui Que went in using a small alt account to stir things up a little, they’d definitely flood that exposé post and help spread his “evil deeds” as insiders!
When it came down to it, classmates were still more dependable.
Shui Que clicked into the group chat and saw “999+” messages. Someone had already shared the exposé post there around midnight.
But strangely, even though he’d only been absent from the group for a little over a month, many familiar profile pics now had new chat nicknames.
Especially the three group admins, who had changed their names to [Ball Game Stan, Loves Shipping], [Not That Into the Transfer Student], and [Solo Fan, With Pics and Tags].
Shui Que had a vague sense of doom.
The message list was updating too fast. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to read through all of it before another notification popped up.
[Solo Fan, With Pics and Tags]: Didn’t expect the transfer student to be that kind of person!
Shui Que’s eyes lit up and he quickly chimed in.
[Water element missing]: Exactly! Can’t believe he turned out to be like that! Such a faker!
[Solo Fan, With Pics and Tags]: He dressed so nicely for his livestream fans, but at the New Year’s party he bundled himself up so tightly. Are we, his classmates at Haicheng No. 1 High School, not as good as some internet strangers? Does he see us as outsiders? Does he think we’d eat him alive?
[Solo Fan, With Pics and Tags]: Just look at this yourself (image.jpg)
The picture was from a special fan-reward session Shui Que did when he hit 300,000 followers. Somehow, a fan had taken a screenshot that was full of bright white thigh meat, with the image centered on the curve of flesh squeezed out by a tight leg ring.
At the time, Shui Que hadn’t felt embarrassed wearing it, but now that the picture had been circulated so boldly among his classmates at Haicheng No. 1, he could practically curl up his toes from secondhand shame.
Someone help, how did this even happen?!
How did that picture end up in the group chat?!
He sat on the bed, awkwardly hugging his calves, half his face buried against his knees, his cheeks burning hot and pink.
Why was everyone focusing on this? Wasn’t anyone concerned that he’d turned out to be an Alpha after all?
[Not That Into the Transfer Student]: @Solo Fan, With Pics and Tags, nice pic. Saved it.
[Ball Game Stan, Loves Shipping]: So… does this mean Lu Fengchi’s into A-on-A? Did he know the transfer student was an Alpha when they were together?
[Not Chen Jian But Chen Jian]: He probably did… those few days he asked me about it, said he had an Alpha friend, and every time he saw this tiny, delicate Alpha, he just wanted to hug and kiss them. Asked me if that made his friend weird?
[Not Chen Jian But Chen Jian]: I swear, I was such an idiot. Guys, I should’ve known! There was no mysterious Alpha friend—he was obviously talking about himself!
Shui Que was stunned.
If he guessed correctly, that meant…
Lu Fengchi had known he was an Alpha since back when they first got together?
Then why had he still wanted to be with him? Wasn’t Lu Fengchi supposed to be a straight Alpha who liked Omegas?
[Solo Fan, With Pics and Tags]: WTF, our school forum is getting bombarded by fans and gossip-hunters. Seriously, who leaked that exposé post?
[Not Chen Jian But Chen Jian]: Maybe someone snuck onto the school forum and stole those photos of Shui Que with Brother Lu and the student council president? Someone did post two of them late at night during the party. My bad for not deleting them in time.
Why was no one reacting to the fact he had suddenly gone from an Omega to an Alpha? Were all his classmates really this chill about it?
Shui Que couldn’t take it anymore.
He exited the group chat, and System 77’s projection screen automatically switched back to the page he hadn’t closed earlier.
Quite a bit of time had passed, and since midnight gossip seekers had missed the drama, now around noon, a new wave of people started clicking in during their lunch break.
But most of them were still scolding the original poster for doing a bad Photoshop job—the street and hotel background didn’t even match.
Others were digging into the two “young masters” from Haicheng mentioned in the post.
Some newer fans had even jumped in to claim they were the shadowy figure seen heading to the hotel with Shui Que.
【Ohohoho isn’t that the famous grumpy eSports champ? Came back from his grand slam just to be someone’s lapdog?】
【Can’t tell if that’s a fan or a hater, but wow, didn’t expect the aromatherapy guy to chase his wife that hard. Threw money like it was nothing… But after seeing your wife’s HD pics, I get it. If you can’t lick someone like that, it’s understandable. A pheasant doesn’t deserve a phoenix…】
【This exposé smells like it was made by someone bitter they couldn’t get with the little streamer. The OP sounds like a jealous river-kappa Alpha—am I allowed to say that?】
Finally—finally—Shui Que saw a reasonable comment.
【Without knowing the full story, I’ll reserve judgment.】
Yes! That’s right! Someone please explain his side of the story!
Shui Que anxiously started typing himself, but before he could finish, someone replied to that rational comment.
[Alright, here’s a full view of my little streamer at home. Now you know, right? Attached: 5 pictures]
[I saw it. From the very first glance, I knew it wasn’t his fault.]
[He must be such a pure boy. What could he possibly have done wrong???]
[He definitely didn’t mean it. Maybe he just clicked the wrong gender when registering on the Orange platform.]
[Regardless of the facts, aren’t we also at fault in some way?]
Shui Que almost felt dizzy from the brainwashing comments flooding in from netizens. It was as if he truly was the most innocent boy in the world—someone who had simply clicked the wrong gender tab by accident.
Perhaps because the plot development had diverged from the intended direction, System 77 suddenly issued a warning:
[Host, something strange is happening. The progress of the plot has regressed by 5%. It’s now at 85%!]
Its mechanical voice stuttered unnaturally, becoming choppy and slow.
[System 77 is attempting to repair the data determination bug…]
[Running diagnostics…]
[Diagnostics complete.]
[Everything is normal.]
“Huh?” Shui Que’s eyes widened. That 5% was hard-earned—he had worked all morning for it, and now it was just gone. He clutched the blanket in his hands so tightly that it wrinkled, but couldn’t bring himself to blame System 77 directly. He could only give a soft, barely-audible grunt.
“Why do you guys even have point deductions in the first place?”
Honestly, he wasn’t even that attached to the 5%. Even without it, he still had 85%. Passing required 80%, and he had already exceeded that.
He really didn’t care about the 5%.
[Mhm, just like you, baby, I also think this scoring system is unreasonable.]
The Overseer chimed in at just the right moment to soothe him.
[I’ll submit a report about it when I get back.]
[How can points be deducted? If it were up to me, I’d give you full marks, baby.]
Shui Que responded with a simple “Oh” and ignored him.
The more he talked to this Overseer, the more the guy ramped up. After spending nearly an entire world together, Shui Que had figured out his temperament.
Absolutely no eye contact allowed.
But this time, the Overseer didn’t back off in the face of Shui Que’s indifference.
[Don’t you want to know why Song Qin hasn’t returned in so long?]
[He never told you, did he? His study is connected to a hidden room.]
[Aren’t you curious? It’s on the wall near the last bookshelf—just twist the white wall sconce there.]
*
They say curiosity killed the cat.
That’s exactly what Shui Que was thinking as he stood in front of the wall sconce.
Nervously, he swallowed hard. His small Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. He tugged up the collar of his turtleneck sweater, hiding his sharp chin inside the wool as if that might offer him some protection or sense of safety.
He pressed and gave the sconce a little twist.
The motion was effortless.
The only difficulty was that the sconce was mounted a bit high, so he had to stand on tiptoe.
The seemingly flat wall gave off an old, creaky sound as it loosened, and when Shui Que gave it a little push, the whole wall swung open like an unlocked door.
Inside, the floor was cluttered with a random assortment of items. Shui Que lowered his head to watch his step and carefully made his way in.
It was hard to imagine such a messy room existing behind Song Qin’s study. Song Qin always gave off the impression of being meticulous and methodical—like a top-tier Alpha with OCD and a cleanliness obsession.
Bundles of twigs, a tiny water bottle, torn-up doodles that looked like children’s drawings, a toy car racetrack model…
These things were so old and dusty it was clear they had been left here for ages. This storage room had probably been sealed off for years, trapping someone’s childhood inside.
He touched a toy car and came away with a hand covered in dust.
A little deeper in, something on the floor caught his attention.
Unlike the rest of the junk, this item was new and completely dust-free—totally out of place.
Hmm…?
Shui Que picked it up.
Wasn’t this his umbrella?
He had left it in Song Qin’s car on the first day and never saw it again. He hadn’t paid it much attention since he had plenty of spare umbrellas at home. He’d just grabbed a new one and tossed it in his school bag.
[Look up. Go to the table up ahead.]
The Overseer’s sudden voice startled him so badly he jumped.
Can’t this guy at least give a warning before he speaks… Shui Que muttered silently in his head.
The room did have a window. It faced the back hill next to the villa, so from outside, you’d never guess a small room like this existed.
The table sat directly under the window, pressed tightly against the white wall. The surface was coated in dust, holding only a few small decorations.
The air inside was stuffy. Shui Que pushed open the window—it probably hadn’t been opened in ages. The cracks were filled with dirt, and the remains of insects that had flown in and died there from the nearby hill.
The Overseer: [Drawer.]
The Overseer’s voice reignited his curiosity. Half skeptical, Shui Que pulled open the drawer.
It was an old wooden table, and the drawer handle had long fallen off. He had to stick two fingers into the round hole where the handle used to be and tug the drawer out that way.
The wood was rough and splintered, scraping his fingertips as he pulled it open.
Shui Que stared into the drawer, his pupils dilating and shrinking rapidly. His expression grew increasingly panicked as he flipped through stack after stack of developed photos.
His fingers trembled uncontrollably, the shaking impossible to stop.
He flipped through every single one.
They were all of him.
Not just the ones he’d accidentally sent to Song Qin via WeChat—there were screenshots from his livestreams too.
What was even more disturbing… there were photos of him sleeping, in various poses?
Why did he have these?
When were they taken?
How were they taken?
The most chilling of all—
One photo was from the New Year’s Eve program’s curtain call. He stood at the center of the photo, and Song Qin had cut out the faces of everyone else.
A creeping chill climbed up Shui Que’s spine, buzzing in his ears.
A cane thudded heavily against the floor, the sound deep and muffled.
“Shui Que.”
He turned around slowly. At the doorway stood the owner of those photos.
His lips were pressed into a straight line. His features were already cold by nature, but now they seemed to bear down with an oppressive weight, making it clear Song Qin was not in a good mood.
No one knew where he had been all morning.
His shirt was soaked through—whether it was melted snow or sweat was unclear. His pants were streaked with mud and dead grass, giving him a worn and exhausted look, as if he had trudged through great hardship.
Thud, thud, thud—the cane struck the ground again and again.
Shui Que stared at the man drawing closer with every step, his anxiety mounting. For a moment, he felt as if dark clouds had blotted out the snowy day’s sunlight, making the single-windowed room seem even dimmer.
He instinctively stepped back. His heel bumped into the leg of the table. A chill spread through his whole body, making him weak. He reached back, bracing himself against the table for support.
His elbow brushed against something cold and hard.
There was a sudden crackling sound—like something shattering. White porcelain fragments scattered around the table leg.
Shui Que was startled. He looked down to see a broken ceramic figurine, shattered into pieces. One small fragment still had the figurine’s smiling face on it.
It resembled a teru teru bozu—a little weather charm doll.
In the next second, the world blurred. The ground filled with debris suddenly seemed to fall away beneath him.
Song Qin had pulled him into a tight embrace, so tight Shui Que could barely breathe.
The other man’s chin rested in the crook of his neck, hiding his expression from view.
All Shui Que heard was Song Qin’s low, strained voice: “There’s nothing worth seeing. Let’s not look anymore, okay?”
There was something off about him. Shui Que smelled more than just dust in the air—there was an increasingly intense sandalwood fragrance.
For the first time, Shui Que felt genuinely afraid of the person holding him.
Huge shoutout to @candycorns2 on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.