Chapter 1: Picking Up a Wife

The Northern Frontier, District Three Supply Station.

The wind howled like the dying cries of a wounded beast, carrying coarse grains of snow that lashed this frozen wasteland—forgotten by civilization—without end.

Low, squat buildings sprawled across the horizon like frostbitten gray beetles.

The only splash of color was the Alliance flag outside the supply station, whipping violently in the gale, its once-bright colors faded almost white.

Shen Qingxian sat on an icy metal bench, his fingertips digging so deeply into his palms they nearly broke the skin.

The expensive cashmere overcoat draped over him looked utterly out of place against the rust-streaked metal walls and the heavy scent of machine oil filling the station.

A section of dazzlingly fair neck peeked above his collar.

An inhibitor patch was affixed there, its edges already curling upward, unable to completely suppress the uniquely alluring pheromone scent that seeped through.

It carried an icy, pristine fragrance, like plum blossoms blooming after fresh snowfall, mingled with an indescribably enticing sweetness that tugged at the senses.

Yet because his pheromones were unstable, the scent fluctuated unpredictably, fading and intensifying without warning.

He had already been “inspected” by three Alphas.

The first was a captain from the border garrison, built like a bear.

After leaning in to sniff him, the man frowned deeply.

“Too weak. Too unstable. I need a wife who can fight, endure hardship, and has strong pheromones for good breeding—not some porcelain doll that’ll shatter if I touch him and need constant looking after. No way.”

The second was the head of a resource mining company.

His gaze was sharp and calculating as he swept Shen Qingxian from head to toe.

“Unstable pheromones? Sorry. Medical resources are limited out here, and I don’t have time to deal with that kind of trouble. I need a partner who can reliably support me and handle social connections. You’re obviously not suitable.”

The third…

Didn’t even wait for the station manager to finish the introduction.

The moment he sensed Shen Qingxian’s drifting, unstable pheromones—clearly incapable of providing strong calming effects—he waved dismissively, as though avoiding an infectious disease, and walked away without another word.

Every inspection.

Every judgment.

Every rejection.

It felt like a dull knife carving over Shen Qingxian’s heart again and again.

His eyes remained lowered.

Long, thick lashes cast fragile shadows beneath them.

The cold and anxiety had drained the color from his lips, yet his back remained perfectly straight, stubbornly preserving the last remnants of his crumbling dignity.

He had long since lost count of how many places he’d been taken to.

But the outcome had never changed.

A top-tier Alpha had never wanted someone like him.

The supply station’s manager, a middle-aged Beta, rubbed his hands together awkwardly.

“Mr. Shen… Major Lin Yan’s mission ran late, so he hasn’t arrived yet.”

“He’s today’s last candidate.”

“If even he…”

The man hesitated before lowering his voice.

“According to regulations, you’ll have to enter the standard Alpha matching pool.”

The standard Alpha matching pool…

Shen Qingxian’s fingertips trembled violently.

That meant losing every last bit of choice.

He could be matched with any random Alpha—perhaps crude, perhaps violent.

Worse, none of them would be capable of suppressing his unstable pheromones.

The result would only be more dangerous…

And far more painful.

He could already picture that endless, lightless future.

Just then—

Bang!

The station’s heavy metal doors were shoved open.

A violently overbearing wave of pheromones surged inside before the man himself did.

It carried the freezing wind and snow from outside, mixed with the pungent scent of gunpowder and smoke.

The fierce aroma flooded the entire room instantly.

It burned like blazing liquor, carrying the scorching intensity of iron and blood.

Even the Beta staff inside involuntarily held their breath beneath the overwhelming pressure.

A man strode in.

He was tall.

Exceptionally powerfully built.

He wore the dark green standard overcoat of the Frontier Defense Army.

Snow still clung to his broad shoulders.

The coat hung open, revealing a black tactical vest stretched tightly across a chest packed with explosive strength.

His hair was cropped close.

His sharp features were cold and commanding.

His jawline was taut, his lips pressed into a hard, straight line.

He resembled a military saber freshly drawn from its sheath, still carrying the scent of blood.

Rugged.

Powerful.

Oppressively intimidating.

This was Lin Yan.

Commander of the Third Northern Frontier Outpost.

A top-tier Alpha with countless military achievements, yet one who had ultimately been posted to this remote frontier.

The station manager hurried forward.

“Major Lin, you’re finally here. This is Mr. Shen Qingxian. Headquarters assigned him to you… He’s a 3S-class Omega.”

Lin Yan didn’t spare the Beta manager a second glance.

His gaze went straight past him and landed on Shen Qingxian.

It was sharp enough to feel tangible.

It carried scrutiny…

And unconcealed impatience.

His eyes swept over Shen Qingxian in an instant.

The overly slender frame.

The unnaturally pale skin.

The exquisitely beautiful features etched with exhaustion and resistance.

And that faint strand of cold, sweet pheromones drifting toward him, impossible to conceal because of their instability.

Lin Yan frowned almost immediately.

“They think I’m too damn idle, so they dumped an ancestor on me to worship?”

His deep, gravelly voice was as cold as the snowstorm outside.

The disdain in his tone was no different from the previous Alphas’.

If anything, it was even more blunt.

Shen Qingxian’s heart sank completely.

The last flicker of hope inside him seemed ready to be snuffed out by the merciless wind and snow.

He watched Lin Yan click his tongue softly before turning to leave.

The movement was decisive.

Without the slightest hesitation.

Despair crashed over Shen Qingxian like an icy tide.

It couldn’t end like this.

Almost instinctively, just as the broad figure was about to turn away completely, Shen Qingxian sprang up from the bench.

The sudden movement made him stumble.

He reached out with all the strength he had left…

…and grabbed the sleeve of Lin Yan’s overcoat.

The coarse fabric was icy cold, damp with melting snow.

Lin Yan stopped.

Very slowly, he turned his head.

His cold gaze dropped to the hand clutching his sleeve.

It was a beautiful hand.

Slender fingers.

Delicate joints.

Skin so fair the faint blue veins beneath it were clearly visible.

It trembled from exertion.

The fingertips had turned red from the cold.

Like an exquisitely carved piece of jade.

Against Lin Yan’s bronze skin, rough calluses, and bulging veins, the contrast was striking.

Almost painfully so.

Yet strangely…

…captivating.

Shen Qingxian looked up at him.

A thin layer of moisture clouded his dark eyes—not tears, merely the result of the freezing cold.

The corners of his eyes were tinged red.

His voice was soft, carrying an almost imperceptible tremor.

“…Please.”

He drew a shaky breath.

As though summoning every ounce of courage he possessed—or perhaps simply giving up all pride.

His voice became even quieter.

Yet every word reached Lin Yan’s ears with startling clarity.

“…Don’t go.”

“Take me home…”

“…Please?”

“I… I’ll be good.”

Silence filled the supply station.

Only the howling wind outside could be heard.

Every pair of eyes focused on the slender fingers clutching that sleeve…

…and on the towering, imposing man before them.

Lin Yan neither moved…

Nor shook him off.

He simply stared at Shen Qingxian’s face.

Then lowered his eyes to the hand desperately gripping his sleeve as though it were the last lifeline keeping him alive.

Too pale.

Looks soft.

A bizarre thought suddenly crossed his mind.

‘Bet it’d feel nice to squeeze.’

‘And that body… so skinny.’

‘If I held him… he’d probably be soft.’

‘Sleeping with something this warm in my arms would probably feel a hell of a lot better than hugging a cold rifle every night.’

He had spent years guarding the frontier.

Always on alert.

His sleep had been terrible for as long as he could remember.

The military doctor had once hinted that perhaps a highly compatible Omega’s pheromones might help.

He had never cared.

Yet now…

The cold, sweet scent of snowy plum blossoms lingering at the tip of his nose, though unstable, stirred none of the rejection or aggression his own pheromones usually provoked.

Instead…

There was a faint, inexplicable sense of harmony.

Besides, he had never intended to seriously find a partner.

Headquarters insisted on assigning him one.

Refusing would only create more trouble.

This Omega looked troublesome…

But at least he was easy on the eyes.

And soft.

Weak enough that he wouldn’t interfere with anything.

If he had to keep him…

Then so be it.

He could even serve as a rather nice body pillow.

Nearly a full minute passed in silence.

Just as Shen Qingxian was about to lose hope and let go…

Lin Yan finally moved.

He didn’t shake the hand away.

Instead, he subtly turned his wrist.

Almost as if taking control, he lightly pressed Shen Qingxian’s icy, trembling hand beneath his forearm, seemingly brushing against that smooth skin by accident.

Then he looked toward the dumbstruck station manager and spoke in a firm, decisive voice.

“All right.”

“I’m taking him.”

Shen Qingxian abruptly looked up, his eyes filled with disbelief and the dazed relief of someone who had narrowly escaped disaster.

Lin Yan, however, no longer looked at him.

Instead, he added to the station manager,

“I know the procedure.”

“Pheromone compatibility test, right?”

“Let’s do it now.”

He wanted to see for himself just how compatible he was with this delicate little Omega whose pheromones were in complete disarray.

If the compatibility was too low—if he couldn’t protect him—then even if he brought him back, surviving in the Northern Frontier would be impossible.

The testing device pricked both of their fingertips, drawing tiny samples of blood for analysis.

The numbers on the electronic display began climbing frantically.

Finally, a brilliant crimson number froze in the center of the screen.

100%.

Absolute compatibility.

A fated mate.

Silence engulfed the entire supply station.

Lin Yan stared at that number, his pupils contracting sharply.

For the first time, he truly looked at the Omega before him—the one who seemed as though a single gust of wind could knock him over.

Shen Qingxian also stared at the result.

A complicated emotion flashed across his pale face, too fleeting for anyone to grasp.

In the end, all that remained was a faint, fragile look of relief.

Lin Yan snapped back to his senses.

His Adam’s apple bobbed once, and his gaze grew deep, fierce, and unmistakably possessive.

He reached out with one large hand.

This time, instead of merely touching him through the sleeve, he firmly wrapped Shen Qingxian’s cold hand in his own scorching palm.

“Let’s go.”

His voice remained low and steady, but now it carried an unmistakable note of dominance and possession.

“We’re going home.”

His grip was firm.

As though he were holding a treasure he’d finally recovered after losing it.

Or as though he’d finally found the perfect possession to belong within his territory.

Led helplessly by him, Shen Qingxian stumbled, nearly falling against Lin Yan’s side.

The overwhelming scent of gunpowder and fiery liquor instantly enveloped him.

For the first time in a very long while…

He felt something that made his heart tremble.

Safety.

The snowstorm still raged.

Yet that rough, warm hand seemed capable of shielding him from all the cold in the world.