Chapter 11: Feeding

Ji Xu slumped back onto the sofa right after finishing his meal.

His entire person resembled a piece of soft candy melted by the sun, his arms and legs spread out loosely, his cheek pressed against the cotton fabric of the sofa cushion.

His phone rested on his stomach, its screen still lit up with the game interface.

However, he didn’t even have the strength to tap to match for a game, merely keeping his eyes half-shut as he stared blankly at the ceiling light.

The clinking sound of bowls and chopsticks came from the direction of the dining table in the living room.

Rong Du was clearing up the mess, the tap water running with a splashing sound, the rims of the bowls clinking together with crisp, ringing sounds.

Listening to those sounds, Ji Xu’s eyelids felt heavy, baked to the point of nearly falling asleep by the warm porridge in his stomach and the cozy sunlight outside the window.

Rong Du brought out a dishcloth from the kitchen to wipe the table.

After wiping the table, he wiped down the stove once more, and then grabbed a mop to begin mopping the floor.

His work movements were brisk yet unhurried, the mop drawing even semi-arcs on the dark wooden floor, the water trails rapidly evaporating dry in the air, leaving behind a faint scent of cleanliness.

He mopped from that end of the living room to this end, pausing briefly as he passed by the side of the sofa.

Bending down, he reached out and gave Ji Xu’s crown a gentle rub, the soft strands of hair pressing against his palm before dispersing again.

He picked up a washed strawberry from the fruit basket beneath the coffee table—a plump, bright red fruit, its stem already removed, with a few fine water droplets still clinging to it.

He handed the strawberry to Ji Xu’s lips.

Without even opening his eyes, Ji Xu obediently opened his mouth, one tooth lightly tapping against Rong Du’s fingertip, biting down gently and warmly as the entire strawberry was popped into his mouth.

The instant his tooth pierced the skin of the fruit, sour-and-sweet juice spread across the tip of his tongue, carrying the distinctive fragrance and mild chill of the strawberry.

“How is it? Is it tasty?” Rong Du’s voice came from above, carrying a hint of a smile from asking what he already knew.

Ji Xu chewed twice and swallowed the strawberry down, the tip of his tongue licking the juice lingering at the corner of his mouth.

His mouth then opened wide once more, his cheeks puffed up, his eyes not even opening, as he squeezed two words indistinctly out of his throat: “Want more.”

Rong Du looked down at him.

Ji Xu nestled in the sofa just like that, his mouth slightly open, waiting to be fed with utter candidness, not even bothering to lift a finger, completely as righteous and unbothered as a small cat waiting to be waited on.

His eyelids remained closed, his eyelashes resting quietly beneath his eyes, a trace of pinkish strawberry juice lingering at the corner of his mouth.

He looked lazy and obedient, making it entirely impossible for anyone to harbor the heart to refuse him.

Rong Du had indeed intended to feed him another one, his hand already extended to the edge of the basket.

However, his fingertips paused, and he withdrew his hand, lifting the entire fruit basket off the coffee table and stuffing it into Ji Xu’s arms.

Weighed down on his stomach by that heavy fruit basket, Ji Xu finally opened one eye to look, then closed it again, pouting his mouth: “Hmph, fine, I’ll eat it myself.”

He reached out his hand into the basket to feel for a strawberry, stuffed it into his mouth, and chewed with his cheeks puffed out.

After finishing it, he felt for another one, his movements lazy, his joints carrying a sluggishness of not wanting to move whenever he raised his arm.

After eating three or four of them, his movements gradually ground to a halt.

With half a basket of strawberries still resting on his stomach, his breathing began to grow uneven once more, the breath exhaled from his nostrils carrying a higher temperature than before.

The back of his neck burned faintly hot, that familiar, feverish, sticky feeling surging up again from the depths of his gland, like something churning beneath his skin trying to push its way out, uncontrollable and surging outward in torrents.

Ji Xu furrowed his brow slightly.

His susceptibility period wasn’t over yet.

He had thought that the suppressor shot yesterday had tamped it down.

Having slept peacefully through the entire night after taking the shot and feeling clear-headed and refreshed in the morning, he had assumed that was the end of it.

However, an Alpha’s susceptibility period was never something that could be held back with just a single dose, often recurring over two or three days.

This was especially true given his body was naturally on the leaner side while his pheromone secretion was unnaturally vibrant—a single injection could only manage half a day to a day.

That feverish heat spread again from his gland along the back of his neck down to his entire back.

The surface of his skin began to burn hot, yet his fingertips turned slightly cool.

He braced himself against the sofa to sit up, placed the fruit basket on the coffee table, and walked toward the bedroom with somewhat unsteady steps.

Walking to the doorway of the room, he glanced back.

Rong Du was bending over at the other end of the living room clearing up the mop, his back turned to him without noticing.

Ji Xu pulled out a suppressor from the nightstand drawer, beside which sat half a box of Band-Aids and a foil pack of cold medicine.

He tore open the packaging, the needle pricking into the skin of his upper arm with a faint sting.

As the icy medication was pushed into his bloodstream, he let out a shiver, whereupon that feverish heat slowly receded as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over it.

He wrapped the used syringe in a tissue, threw it into the trash can, climbed onto the bed, and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders.

The moment his body made contact with the mattress, drowsiness swallowed him up almost instantaneously.

By the time Rong Du finished tidying up everything in the living room, an hour had already passed.

He hung the mop back onto the hook in the bathroom, wiped his hands clean, and walked to the living room, only to find the sofa empty.

Only that fruit basket with half a basket of strawberries left remained resting quietly on the coffee table.

He turned his head to look at the bedroom door, which was left ajar, revealing a narrow slit of light.

He walked over and pushed the door open.

The curtains in the bedroom were drawn, dimming the light, a faint honey sweetness floating in the air.

Ji Xu was lying on his side in bed, wrapped in the blanket up to his shoulders, exposing only a fluffy back of his head and a small section of his hindneck.

His cheeks still bore a lingering, unevaporated flush, the light pink heat visible over his cheekbone from the side view, his lips slightly parted, his breathing shallow and even.

The edge of the blanket had slid down slightly.

His side-lying posture caused the hem of his T-shirt to roll upward, revealing a strip of skin at the side of his waist.

A fair, smoothly lined waistline extended from beneath his ribs down into the unseen depths of the blanket, illuminated into a soft arc by the light leaking through the gap in the curtains.

Rong Du stood by the bed and watched for two seconds before gently pulling the door shut and stepping out.

He went to the bathroom to take a shower, letting the warm water rinse over his shoulders and back.

He washed his hair as well, wiped it dry with a towel, and changed into a clean short-sleeved shirt and loose lounge shorts.

When he pushed open the bedroom door once more, the honey sweetness inside had grown a fraction richer.

Ji Xu’s pheromones seeped out continuously from his peaceful sleeping posture, slowly accumulating and stacking up in the tightly closed room, thick with sweetness.

Rong Du walked to the bedside and lowered the air conditioner temperature by two degrees.

Cool air blew out from the vent, bringing a trace of dry, crisp freshness.

He lifted a corner of the blanket and lay inside, the mattress dipping slightly.

Beside him, Ji Xu’s body shifted in his sleep, his eyelashes trembling once, though he didn’t wake up.

Rong Du lay flat on his back, his hands folded over his stomach, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

That honey scent was close at hand, lingering around him without dissipating.

Not long after lying down, the person beside him began to move restlessly.

Ji Xu pulled his shoulders inward in his sleep, a layer of fine goosebumps rising on his arms exposed outside the blanket—as the air conditioner temperature dropped, the chill began to penetrate the edges of the blanket.

He instinctively leaned toward the only source of warmth.

First, his knee bumped against Rong Du’s leg, then his shoulder pressed against Rong Du’s arm.

Afterward, his entire body flipped over, his forehead resting against Rong Du’s shoulder as he curled up his body to burrow into his arms.

His back arched, like a curled-up small animal finding the warmest spot deep inside a burrow, his whole person fitting seamlessly into the crook of Rong Du’s arm.

Rong Du’s arm had long been opened wide waiting for him.

The instant Ji Xu burrowed in, he naturally wrapped his arm over his back, his palm resting at the small of his lower back.

Through the thin T-shirt, he could feel the warm skin beneath and the even heartbeat.

Ji Xu’s face pressed against his chest, his warm, moist breath brushing against his skin through the clothing fabric, light and warm.

Rong Du rested his chin on the crown of Ji Xu’s head, tightening his arms to pull him closer into his embrace until virtually no gap remained between the two of them, Ji Xu’s entire weight pressing onto half of his body.

After a moment, Rong Du’s fingers moved slightly.

His fingertips slowly slid down along the arm, sliding from Ji Xu’s back to the back of his neck, before coming to a stop.

That spot was warm and soft, with a tiny, slightly raised patch beneath the skin—the source of the pheromones lay right there.

Rong Du’s fingertips pressed onto it extremely, extremely lightly, the pad of his finger resting against that thin layer of skin, as cautious as if touching a flower bud about to bloom.

The moment he pressed down, the thick honey scent seemed like a bottle whose cork had been unscrewed, pouring out almost tempestuously, sweeping over the entire space sweetly and domineeringly.

The pheromones that were already rich enough climbed another step, submerging the pillows, blanket, Rong Du’s clothes, and skin in a sea of golden honey.

Ji Xu furrowed his brow in his sleep.

He was dreaming—in the dream, he had transformed into a plump drop of honey, sticky and golden all over, lying atop a giant tree leaf to sunbathe.

Then two bears rushed out from the bushes, brown, fluffy, gigantic creatures, running toward him with all four paws pouncing, baring their teeth and drooling, charging straight toward him, this drop of honey.

He tried desperately to roll away and escape, but being a round drop of honey made it impossible to run fast, the bear paws drawing closer and closer.

As he ran, he looked back—the two bears looked more and more familiar, their brown heads round and plump, one of them seemingly missing a tuft of hair on its head, while the other had a silly, teeth-baring expression.

In the dream, he felt terrified yet found it hilarious at the same time—why did these two bears look so much like Xiong Da and Xiong Er?

His honey body was swatted by a bear paw, a huge portion of his sweetness knocked apart.

Sleeping Ji Xu furrowed his brow once more, but didn’t wake up.

Rong Du felt the person in his arms unconsciously shrinking into his body.

Withdrawing his fingers from that gland, he placed his hand back onto his back, gently patting him twice in a soothing manner.

He lowered his head, burying his nose in Ji Xu’s hair, and took a deep breath.

That honey scent poured into his lungs through his nasal passage, so sweet that a trace of sweet aftertaste even rose on the tip of his tongue.

He held Ji Xu a little tighter, sinking entirely into the warm, soft depression wrapped in sweetness.

I really like him so much.

This thought surfaced clearly in his mind, completely intact without undergoing any modification or disguise.

Closing his eyes, he pulled Ji Xu tighter into his embrace, slowly sinking into sleep within that air so sweet it wouldn’t melt away.

During this period of susceptibility, Ji Xu spent most of his time sleeping, occasionally waking up to drink some water or eat a little food.

Sitting on the living room sofa for less than half an hour, he would feel his head grow groggy again, his gland burning hot, his pheromones leaking outward uncontrollably.

Thus, he would return to the room to give himself another suppressor shot, wrap himself in the blanket, and continue sleeping.

Rong Du kept all the curtains in the home drawn, the air conditioner constantly running on low wind, cooking plain white porridge and vegetable soup for Ji Xu, peeling oranges to leave on the nightstand, and replacing several pillow towels soaked through with sweat.

Whenever Ji Xu woke up dazedly, he could see Rong Du’s figure moving beside the bed—sometimes handing over a glass of warm water, sometimes using a wet towel to wipe his forehead, his cool fingertips pressing on his temples to make him close his eyes again.

Half-awake and half-asleep, he would grab Rong Du’s wrist, let go again, and flip over to continue sinking into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

Three days later, the susceptibility period finally passed completely.

Ji Xu opened his eyes on the morning of the fourth day.

Sunlight outside the window shone in through the gap in the curtains.

He twitched his nose—the honey scent in the air had faded considerably, leaving only a hint of lingering fragrance.

Bracing his arms, he sat up—his waist no longer ached, his head no longer hurt, and his gland was no longer hot.

His entire person felt like a rebooted machine, every single component operating nimbly and smoothly.

He let out a huge stretch, hearing a soft click sound from his shoulder blade.

Then, flipping off the blanket, he jumped off the bed, walking barefoot across the floor to the bathroom with light steps.

Coming out after taking a shower, he felt clear-headed and refreshed, comfortably thoroughly down to his pores.

Wiping his hair, he thought to himself that he had to properly make up for the time spent sleeping away these past few days.

It just so happened that today was the final day of Rong Du’s vacation.

Starting tomorrow, Rong Du would have to head out to work every morning again, leaving at eight and returning around eight or nine at night.

He didn’t want Rong Du’s last day of vacation to be spent cooped up at home keeping him company while he slept—they ought to go out for some fresh air and do something.

He browsed the ticketing software on his phone, seeing that a movie was currently showing with pretty good reviews—a lighthearted comedy, perfect for two people to watch.

He bought two tickets for seven-thirty in the evening, selecting twin seats in the middle of the very back row.

Then, putting down his phone, he walked out, following the delicious aroma from the kitchen.

Rong Du was standing in front of the stove stirring-fry dishes.

The tomatoes and eggs in the wok were mixed together, red and yellow intermingled, bubbling softly with hot bubbles.

He stood sideways, one hand holding the handle of the wok to flip it, the dish flipping over as oil smoke and fragrance rose together.

Ji Xu pressed close, leaning almost directly against his side, tilting his head to look up at Rong Du’s side profile from below.

His eyes were bright, his voice carrying a liveliness rarely seen over these past few days: “Rong Du, let’s go watch a movie tonight.”

The two were far too close.

The post-shower heat on Ji Xu hadn’t fully dissipated yet, his body carrying the floral fragrance of the body wash and a subtle honey aftertaste, leaning soft and warm beside Rong Du’s elbow.

Hearing the voice, Rong Du turned over.

The moment he lowered his head, he met Ji Xu’s face brought very close—eyebrows and eyes curved, fine moisture still hanging from his eyelashes, his lips red and moist, slightly parted as he waited for his answer.

Rong Du’s brain lagged by a beat.

Looking at those beautiful eyes, his line of sight was completely occupied by that face right before him, his mind turning blank for a fraction of a second as if the pause button had been pressed.

Ji Xu’s lips moved, repeating it once more.

This time, Rong Du didn’t even hear clearly what those words meant when put together—he only saw his lip shape moving, seemingly saying “movie” or “something,” failing to catch it entirely.

Yet, out of habit, he nodded his head.

Ji Xu let out a cheer, turned around, and hopped away.

After walking two steps, he turned back to strike a “V” sign at Rong Du.

Rong Du watched his back disappear around the living room corner, the spatula in his hand still held mid-air.

The tomato and eggs in the wok were already about to burn at the bottom before he abruptly snapped back to reality and turned off the fire.

He looked down at the slightly charred edge in the wok, his ears still retaining that phrase he hadn’t heard clearly when Ji Xu leaned close.

He reached out to press his temple, lifted the wok to place it into the sink, and then slowly curled up the corners of his mouth.

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