Chapter 4: Small-Town Drama and Moments of Tenderness

Shao Ye hadn’t expected this. The polished, pampered image of a wealthy heir like Lu-ge? Shattered. Turns out the man had a knack for wilderness survival, too—rugged competence wrapped in tailored luxury.

Shao Ye replayed the humiliation in his mind. He’d been all swagger and bravado, spinning tales of expertise, only to lose his way in the unforgiving depths of the mountains.

The punchline? His so-called guide instincts were useless, and it was Lu-ge—calm, unruffled, and trailing silently at his side—who’d led them back to safety. The sting of it made his cheeks burn.

Shao Ye worried. Had his bumbling ineptitude already cemented him in Brother Lu's mind as nothing but a posturing fool?

Would the man—impossibly cool and maddeningly efficient—write him off entirely?

Resolving to redeem himself, he fell into line, meek and obedient, trailing after Lu Zhanxing like a chastened pup.

It wasn’t long before Lu Zhanxing found them shelter: a shadowy cave tucked into the craggy hillside.

The plan? Rest for the night.

But as Shao Ye stepped toward the cave’s gaping mouth, the darkness inside stirred. A glint—no, several—pierced through the gloom. Eyes. Wild, unblinking, and predatory. The sight turned his blood to ice. He stumbled back, instinct overriding reason, and collided squarely with Lu Zhanxing’s solid chest.

There was no escape now.

"What's wrong?" Lu Zhanxing's voice was low but steady, cutting through the tension like a knife through silk.

Shao Ye's voice quivered, words tumbling out in a nervous stammer. "L-Lu-ge, I think… I think there might be wolves. Could we have stumbled right into a wolf den?"

Lu Zhanxing's sharp night vision needed no help from a flashlight. Even in the oppressive darkness of the cave, he could see every detail with clarity.

"Stay here. Don't move. I'll check it out." The command was curt, final, and before Shao Ye could process it, Lu Zhanxing was already striding deeper into the cave with unshakable resolve.

Panic surged through Shao Ye like a shot of adrenaline. The idea of being left alone was unbearable. He reached out desperately, clutching the edge of Lu Zhanxing's jacket. "No! Let’s… let’s go in together."

Lu Zhanxing paused, then turned his gaze on him. "Fine. Hold my hand, and don’t let go."

Without hesitation, he gripped Shao Ye's sweat-slicked palm and led him into the suffocating blackness.

The cave swallowed them whole, pitch-dark and eerily silent, save for the faint, uneven breaths of Shao Ye beside him. His flashlight had plummeted into a ravine earlier, leaving him blind and terrified. Every sound, every imagined movement in the shadows sent shivers up his spine.

The wolves had already caught the scent of intruders. They bared their teeth, primal instincts primed for attack, every muscle tense with territorial rage.

But then, Lu Zhanxing stepped forward, and his presence changed the air. He let loose a surge of pheromones—raw, commanding, animalistic. The wolves hesitated. A flicker of recognition passed through them as they caught a scent they couldn't ignore: the scent of one of their own.

They faltered, confusion overtaking aggression. When their wild eyes met Lu Zhanxing's unflinching gaze, the weight of his authority crushed them. Absolute dominance radiated from him, suffocating any trace of defiance. One by one, they slunk back, tails tucked between their legs, until the cave was emptied of every last predator.

"Lu-ge… are you sure it’s safe?" Shao Ye’s voice wavered, his unease refusing to fade.

Lu Zhanxing tightened his grip on Shao Ye’s hand, his warmth grounding the younger man. "It’s safe. Trust me."

The certainty in his voice, paired with the protective pressure of his hand, was enough to ease the gnawing dread in Shao Ye’s chest.

They hadn’t prepared for an impromptu trek into the wilderness, let alone a night in a cave.

Supplies? None.

Shelter? Nonexistent.

Lu Zhanxing made do with what he had. He slipped off his trench coat and spread it across a flat rock, motioning for Shao Ye to sit.

"Lie down. I’ll keep watch."

Shao Ye hesitated. "No, that’s not right. I’m fine—well, mostly fine. I mean, aside from fainting from that fever last week. But you—you could get sick! And if that triggers your… condition… without medicine, what then?"

Lu Zhanxing’s expression softened, almost imperceptibly. "As long as you’re here, I won’t lose control."

The words were delivered so casually it was disarming, like stating a universal truth. Shao Ye, however, was thoroughly perplexed. "But… I’m not a cure or anything. How does that even work?"

Seeing the confusion in his companion’s wide eyes, Lu Zhanxing explained patiently. "My beast form is wild. I’m not so easily affected by the cold. Don’t worry about me."

The reminder jolted Shao Ye. In this world, everyone had a beast form, a primal side they could transform into at will. The thought stirred a flicker of curiosity in him. "What’s your beast form, Lu-ge?"

Lu Zhanxing didn’t answer immediately, his silence thick with intention.

Shao Ye’s mind spun, jumping to conclusions. Maybe Lu-ge’s form was something embarrassing—like a prairie dog or a wild boar. It had to be something mundane or unflattering for him to stay tight-lipped.

Sensing his companion’s reluctance, Shao Ye relented. "Never mind. Whatever it is, as long as it’s not a wolf, it’s fine by me."

He settled onto the makeshift bedding, the lingering warmth of Lu Zhanxing’s coat and its faint scent—a mix of pine and rain—enveloping him. It was a familiar, grounding smell, evoking memories of moonlit snowfalls and the serene comfort of home. He felt his taut nerves unwind, giving way to an unfamiliar but welcome calm.

From his spot beside the rock, Lu Zhanxing’s voice cut through the quiet. "Why not a wolf?"

“Is that even a question? Of course, it’s because of my so-called marriage partner, that damn predator, Lu Zhanxing,” Shao Ye declared, his voice laced with a palpable mix of frustration and unease. “Word is he’s never been able to find an Omega with a high compatibility score. Now that I’ve run off, he’s not going to let this slide so easily. Lu-ge, you swore no Alpha would lay a hand on me. But what about him—Lu Zhanxing, the kind of Alpha who wields power like a weapon and thinks the universe bends to his will? Will you still protect me?”

“You haven’t even met him yet,” Lu Zhanxing countered coolly. “What if, once you meet, you actually find him… compatible?”

“Lu-ge! How can you even suggest that?” Shao Ye shot up straight, eyes blazing with indignation. “Those so-called ‘high-ranking nobles’ in the Alliance? They’re a joke! Everyone knows they’re mostly bloated sacks of privilege, waddling around like overfed pigs. And Lu Zhanxing’s a man, too—a fat one, at that. You know what that means. Men like that usually… underperform. What if, when the moment comes, I strip down and he can’t measure up? He’d lose it from embarrassment and take it out on me!”

Lu Zhanxing fell silent, his mind spinning for a response, but nothing came. The darkness cloaked his expression, leaving Shao Ye guessing at his thoughts.

“Are you even listening, Lu-ge?” Shao Ye’s voice softened, probing for reassurance.

A low grunt of acknowledgment came in reply.

Taking it as a cue to continue, Shao Ye sighed dramatically. “Lu Zhanxing’s some kind of frontline commander, right? God, I hope the battlefield swallows him whole. If he dies out there, I’ll finally be free.”

“…And if he doesn’t die?” Lu Zhanxing hesitated, his voice cautious. “What if he survives and keeps chasing after you?”

“Then I hope he loses the only thing that matters to him—may his precious manhood rot away!” Shao Ye shot back, his tone sharp and unwavering. He clasped his hands together in mock prayer, the picture of earnest sincerity. “I’ll burn incense every single day, praying that he stays limp forever.”

Another heavy silence fell over them. Lu Zhanxing had nothing to say, caught somewhere between disbelief and exasperation.

Finished with his tirade, Shao Ye collapsed back into his makeshift bedding, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “What’s the point of praying anyway? Heaven’s been out to get me since day one. Every wish I’ve ever made has backfired spectacularly. It’s like the gods are determined to shove me straight into hell.”

For some reason, those last words made Lu Zhanxing feel marginally better.

The next day, with Lu Zhanxing leading the way, they finally emerged from the mountains. But with no transport available, the trek to the nearest port was still painfully long.

By dusk, they stumbled into a strange little town. From a distance, Lu Zhanxing frowned, his sharp eyes scanning the scene. “That’s odd. A whole town springing up here in just a year? How is that even possible?”

Shao Ye glanced at the ramshackle settlement, realization dawning instantly. “The times are changing too fast, Lu-ge. Those are smugglers, guaranteed. They’ve got no legal status on the Imperial Capital Star, so they hide like rats in the sewers, moving from one place to the next every couple of years.”

“Smugglers? On the Imperial Capital Star?” Lu Zhanxing’s voice carried a hint of disbelief. Clearly, this was news to him.

“It’s called hiding in plain sight,” Shao Ye explained with a dry chuckle. “The value gap between Imperial credits and Alliance currency is massive. Plenty of people are willing to risk everything to sneak onto the capital star and work. Spend two or three years living in a sewer like this, and they can return to the Dust Town zones as millionaires. For them, the gamble’s worth it.”

Lu Zhanxing pressed further. “You’ve been to one of these places before?”

“Never,” Shao Ye admitted, his tone hardening. “My little sister’s still in the Dust Town zone. I couldn’t abandon her there alone, and there’s no way I’d drag her into a life like this.” He clapped Lu Zhanxing on the shoulder with surprising warmth. “Come on, let’s grab some supplies and find a place to stay for the night. No one’s going to run a military check here, and even if someone recognizes us, they wouldn’t dare call the authorities.”

The town was as grim as its reputation suggested—filthy streets, churned into muddy slush by countless feet, and a suffocating stench of sewage that hung in the air like a curse. The buildings, patched together from old shipping containers, were crumbling, their peeling paint adorned with chaotic graffiti. Neon signs flickered and buzzed overhead, casting eerie glows across the dreary scene. It was a world held together by desperation, but for tonight, it would have to do.

Every three to five steps, you’d encounter a vagrant exuding a stench so foul it could churn the strongest stomach. Walking here required laser focus to avoid stepping into the filth they so shamelessly left in the streets. Setting foot in this place felt like wandering straight into the back alleys of Earth’s worst slum, where every breath reeked of pungent decay, the kind of smell that climbed straight into your skull and refused to leave.

An Omega in a cesspool like this? Reckless, if not outright suicidal.

But Shao Ye didn’t look the part—nothing about him screamed vulnerability. No pheromones leaked from him, not now, not ever. Hell, he didn’t even know what his own scent was supposed to be. Without a blood test under strict lab protocols, no one would peg him as an Omega.

And that anonymity? It was his armor.

Still, he wasn’t naive. Just because the locals wouldn’t rat them out to the authorities didn’t mean they wouldn’t try to rob them blind. Blending in was key.

“Let’s not draw attention. Straight to a motel,” Shao Ye instructed firmly.

The check-in was no better. “One room,” Shao Ye said, slapping a wad of cash on the counter.

The receptionist—a female Omega—lit up like a firecracker at the sight of two attractive men. But the moment he asked for one room, her excitement soured. Her smile disappeared, replaced by a frosty, almost judgmental expression.

“Room 105. Take the key,” she muttered, sliding it over with a side-eye. “It’s a tin can of a room, bad soundproofing. Don’t get too wild in there.”

The words hung heavy with implication. Shao Ye froze for a beat, then rolled his eyes.

The people here? Utter garbage.

They couldn’t imagine anyone booking a room for anything but debauchery. Explaining their situation would’ve been pointless—no one would’ve believed it. Instead, he grabbed the key and tugged Lu Zhanxing toward the room without another word.

The "room" turned out to be a narrow cargo container repurposed into a lodging. The space barely accommodated a single bed—a flimsy iron frame no wider than a school dorm bunk. It wasn’t a bed; it was a joke. Hell, even sleeping solo would’ve been a balancing act.

Shao Ye sighed, surveying the miserable setup. He wasn’t stingy—he was broke. The last of his funds had gone into a syringe of nutrient solution, bartered for some food and supplies. What remained had just been spent on this sorry excuse for a room.

“I’ll sell my nutrient shots,” Shao Ye declared, already moving toward the door. But Lu Zhanxing’s hand clamped around his arm like a vice.

“There’s no medicine here. You’ve got a low-grade fever, and you’ll need that shot.”

“Then I’ll sleep on the floor,” Shao Ye said, dropping his bag to prepare a makeshift bed. But Lu Zhanxing shut that down too, his tone brooking no argument.

“You take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said, already setting up his spot without waiting for a reply.

Shao Ye was left standing there, guilt clawing at him. Last night, Lu Zhanxing had given up his coat to keep Shao Ye warm. Now he was giving up the bed, too. Shao Ye had no idea how to repay the man’s kindness.

“At least eat something before you crash,” Shao Ye mumbled, setting a container of freshly bought food on the rickety table.

Lu Zhanxing raised an eyebrow as he opened it. Inside were skewers of questionable origin—grilled duck intestines among them. The smell was inviting, but the sight was... less so.

“What is this?” he asked, picking up a skewer.

“Duck intestines,” Shao Ye replied matter-of-factly.

Lu Zhanxing froze, staring at the offending skewer like it might attack him.

Duck intestines? The very notion churned his stomach.

Weren’t intestines just pipelines for excrement?

How was this food?

“Not hungry?” Shao Ye asked, noticing his hesitation.

“Not really,” Lu Zhanxing muttered, setting it aside. But right then, his stomach betrayed him with a loud, undeniable growl.