Unsaid emotions bloomed between Wang Yibo and Xiao Zhan at school, but they were driven apart by animosity rooted in their hearts because of Jiang Zhuocheng.
Ten years later, they find themselves face-to-face once again, the tension between them pal...
The morning sun peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the sleeping figure sprawled in bed. The soft sound of birds chirping outside, a peaceful melody, could mesmerize anyone into waking up and listening, but that doesn't work with Zhan. Instead, a faint sound—a combination of footsteps and a distant voice singing—gradually pulls him from his dreams.
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He slowly opens his eyes and turns his head to see Cheng coming over to sit at the edge of the bed, mouth closed. He knows his brother enjoys singing alone but not with an audience unless necessary.
"Good morning, sleepyhead." Cheng smiles, reaching out to ruffle Zhan's hair.
"Morning," Zhan mumbles, feeling a slight headache from the night before. He can endure it, but the bright sunlight streaming through the window doesn't help, so he shifts slightly and places his head on Cheng's lap, closing his eyes.
"What?" Cheng frowns. "You need to get up, Zhan. We have a busy day ahead of us, so we can't stay in bed all day. Are you still feeling bad?" he asks, concern evident in his voice.
Zhan shakes his head as he starts to raise his upper body. "No, just a headache and tired," he says, sitting up and stretching his arms above his head.
"I think you're dehydrated. Let me take care of you," Cheng says, helping Zhan out of bed and guiding him to the bathroom like a father helping his son. He never tires of pampering him like a child because, in his eyes, Zhan will always be a little kid who holds his hand wherever they go.
"I'm going to fetch breakfast for us. If anything is urgent, please call me." Cheng plants a gentle kiss on Zhan's forehead and pats him on the shoulder before pushing him into the bathroom.
Zhan nods and closes the door behind him before looking around for one thing that he needs right now: the thing that hides his natural scent and prevents him from being attacked by insane alphas; the thing that keeps his body from going into heat during the concert; the thing that has long kept his true self hidden—even from himself!
He lets out a frustrated sigh and swallows a suppressor pill, washing it down with a cup of water from the sink. It is his last pill for the month, and he makes a mental note to get more before leaving Wuhu. He's been relying on these pills for too long, so going without them is always a challenge for his body. If he misses one dose, he will experience the onset of early heat.
Sometimes, he wishes he hadn't been born an omega but an alpha or even a beta so he wouldn't have to worry about society's expectations. The pressure to conform to certain norms and expectations weighs heavily on him, causing a constant sense of anxiety and fear when interacting with others.
He brushes a hand across his jaw, stifling a yawn. He removes his tank top and throws it at the mirror before turning the water on full blast. Adjusting the temperature to one of its higher settings, he stands under the scorching stream, letting the water soothe him. The magic works on his body but not on his mind. At least his exhaustion washes away in gentle waves.
