After An Alpha Discovered I Have Pheromone Deficiency Syndrome - Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Feed Me The Medicine

So, the little fox put on the student uniform he had specially bought, applied delicate yet subtle makeup, and opened the door of the box with eager anticipation.

He had hoped to meet the person he longed for, but instead, he was met with cold stares.

The carefully chosen uniform had ended up looking more like a costume for others to mock.

When Pei Yu appeared outside the glass window, all he said was simply, “Save me.”

Hua Che leaned weakly against Pei Yu’s chest, gasping for breath between soft sobs. Every now and then, darkness flickered before his eyes, but he clung to Pei Yu, barely able to keep himself upright.

Someone’s hand gently massaged the back of his neck, the warmth easing the tight tension bit by bit.

The little fox’s breathing was still uneven, accompanied by faint whimpers. His fox ears drooped pitifully to the sides, like a floppy-eared creature.

He lifted his head, his eyes reddened like a frightened rabbit’s, lips curled downward in a sorrowful pout, gazing at Pei Yu with a look that spoke of deep hurt.

Pei Yu’s heart softened instantly.

He stroked Hua Che’s fox ears tenderly, eyes full of affection.

“Did you wear this uniform for me?”

The bashful little fox nodded shyly.

Pei Yu smiled faintly and continued to caress the soft ears, causing Hua Che to twitch slightly at the sensitive touch.

“You look beautiful.”

“You don’t even realize it yourself…”

But now, Hua Che’s clothes were in disarray, the torn collar exposing much of his skin, the damp fabric clinging tightly to his body.

He was drained of tears, his entire frame trembling uncontrollably.

“Go away…”

Hua Che’s fists clenched tightly, trying to suppress his shaking.

Though too weak to physically push away the Alpha holding him firmly, his increasingly cold body felt like a wall against a terrifying enemy, pushing with all his might.

“Leave! Go away!”

“Why all of a sudden, Hua Che…?”

“Leave!!”

“Don’t look at me, don’t talk to me… Just go, quickly!”

His voice rose sharply, trembling hands forcing Pei Yu away.

His makeup was nearly gone, lips that had once been flushed now pale.

He struggled for breath, as if suffocating, as if an invisible hand squeezed his lungs.

Pei Yu pressed his palm against Hua Che’s chest and pulled his hands away cautiously.

The atmosphere chilled instantly.

Pei Yu’s expression shifted slightly.

As a psychiatrist, he had seen countless mental breakdowns and already guessed what was happening.

In this brief moment of manic collapse, the little fox’s mind was fragile.

He cupped Hua Che’s face and leaned in close, nearly nose to nose.

“Breathe deeply.”

The command was quiet but firm, entering Hua Che’s mind directly.

“Be good.”

Yet, Hua Che broke free, raising his knee to keep the Alpha at bay.

His body trembled, resisting, voice cracking and raw.

“Leave! Just go…!”

“Please… I don’t want you to see me like this…”

“I’ll be fine soon! Just give me a moment of dignity, please…”

He wanted to keep the image of the graceful fox Oiran alive in Pei Yu’s eyes.

He needed space to be alone and take his medicine, not to be seen falling apart.

“All right, I’ll wait outside.”

Pei Yu understood perfectly, despite the ache in his heart.

He knew staying would only make things worse.

“Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m the only one here.”

With that, Pei Yu released him, helping him slide gently to the floor.

The little fox’s eyes dulled, limbs stiff as if frozen, collapsing like a broken doll.

Pei Yu longed to scoop him up, warm him in his arms, but Hua Che pushed him away, pleading tearfully for solitude.

A wave of loss and helplessness washed over Pei Yu as he finally stepped out, softly closing the door behind him.

As long as Hua Che stayed in Lingguan, Pei Yu could never truly claim him.

He was forced to buy nights of fleeting closeness, watch the little fox drown in others’ arms and empty glasses.

Pei Yu’s grip tightened.

He must—no, he would—take Hua Che away.

Out of this hellhole and into the warmth that belonged only to them.

Once the door clicked shut, Hua Che’s last reserves gave out.

He collapsed sideways on the wet floor, convulsing uncontrollably.

His body spasmed, wracked with waves of nausea and pain.

His eyes flickered wildly, gold stars flashing through the darkness.

He retched, stomach churning fiercely, acid stinging his throat and ears.

The room spun relentlessly.

He lay there like a fish out of water, struggling desperately.

His heart hammered painfully against his chest.

Despite the agony, he gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out.

“If only I had never met Professor Pei…”

The thought struck him then.

If only hope had never touched him.

…

Pei Yu burst out of the box, suit and hair still soaked.

Signs of acute somatization were clear.

His psychiatrist instincts were on high alert, tense as if performing a delicate operation.

“This is a fast-acting sedative, similar to lorazepam, exclusive to Omegas.”

The clerk eyed the scarlet-eyed Alpha nervously, noting his drenched hair and fierce demeanor.

“This… psychotropic medication requires registration, sir.”

Pei Yu could only purchase over-the-counter mild sedatives, which worked slowly.

He scanned his electronic ID at the counter.

The box was silent except for water running in the bathroom.

He exhaled deeply, rushing back in.

He feared Hua Che would emerge early and find the box empty.

He crushed the pills into a glass, dissolving them into orange juice.

Some sediment settled at the bottom, stubborn and opaque.

No matter how much Pei Yu stirred, it wouldn’t fully dissolve.

The orange juice looked murky and suspicious at first glance.

Outside the bathroom, Pei Yu waited anxiously for the first time.

The door opened and Hua Che appeared in a bathrobe.

His face still flushed from the hot water, the robe loosely tied, seeming ready to fall apart with a few steps.

The robe was ill-fitting, the fox tail poking out from behind, barely covered by the short hem.

Hua Che sat down opposite Pei Yu, half-dried hair dripping.

One hand trembled slightly, held steady by the other.

Pei Yu pushed the glass of medicine-laced juice forward.

The little fox tilted his head in doubt, eyeing the cloudy drink.

He let out a sad, bitter chuckle.

“Alcohol isn’t a cure.”

Pei Yu looked down at the medicine dissolved in juice.

“Just in case?”

Hua Che’s trembling hand reached for the glass but he hesitated.

Leaning forward, his robe slipped open to reveal pale, smooth collarbones and flawless skin.

His eyes narrowed slightly in fox-like grace.

“Feed me.”

Pei Yu took the glass, pulled a tissue to Hua Che’s chin, and gently wiped the moisture.

“Drink slowly, don’t choke.”

The little fox’s scarlet tongue flicked out, tracing the rim of the glass.

His sharp canine tapped against the surface with a crisp sound.

He sipped cautiously, his Adam’s apple moving rhythmically.

As he drank, he grew more compliant, finishing the liquid and staring at the white residue at the bottom.

Pei Yu wiped his lips with the tissue gently.

“So bitter…”

Hua Che frowned, retreating slightly, murmuring softly with an air of grievance.

“Have some candy.”

Pei Yu offered sweets from the fruit plate.

The little fox popped a hard candy into his cheek, his expression softening.

Gradually, his tense mind quieted, muscles relaxed, and discomfort faded into numbness.

He sat blankly, eyes closed, waiting for the medicine to work.

After a while, he didn’t feel the warmth he expected, but he settled down.

His trembling stopped, his body wrapped in a comforting haze.

Opening his eyes, he stared blankly at the glass.

“What happened?”

Pei Yu asked.

“Why isn’t it working?”

Pei Yu smiled, seeing the misunderstanding.

“What did you expect it to do?”

“I thought it would…”

Hua Che looked down at the glass with regret.

“Be a kind of… spring medicine.”

“Huh?”