After An Alpha Discovered I Have Pheromone Deficiency Syndrome - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Careful Dressing — Is The Body Shape So Poor?

The rain had cleared by noon, and the world felt fresh again. Warm sunlight filtered in, and the air smelled clean, slightly cool and damp with renewal.

Hua Che stood by the window, carefully ironing his kimono. Each fold was pressed with precision, the fabric steamed to perfection. This wasn’t just any outfit—it was the outfit. The most lavish piece in his wardrobe: the same one he wore during his coming-of-age parade on Flower Street.

Back then, he had saved every coin to afford professional dry cleaning, and now, even a slight wrinkle from transport seemed unacceptable. Every crease mattered.

At eighteen, he had become what people called the “fox oiran”—a celebrated role, supposedly signifying maturity. But to Hua Che, it had never felt like adulthood.

That coming-of-age event, meant to be a personal milestone, had instead turned him into a living display—an object to be priced and paraded.

The glamour, the celebration… none of it had really been for him.

But now, wearing this same outfit again, taken away from that world by Pei Yu, Hua Che no longer felt like an object. For the first time, he felt like a person again—someone with agency, dignity, and hope.

This ceremony, this night—it was just for the two of them.

And somehow, that made it matter more than the entire bar mitzvah had.

He dressed slowly. Instead of layering with traditional linings, he wore just the outer kimono and soft skirt. The result was elegant but revealing—a deep V-neck barely shielding his chest, the satin shimmering against his pale skin. Red and black fabric framed his slender form, highlighting a narrow waist and long, graceful legs.

He didn’t hide the black belt at his waist or the spot designed for the fluffy fox tail. In fact, he embraced it.

The custom design cinched neatly at his lower back, emphasizing how easily his waist could be encircled with just one hand. The tail flared out proudly, parting the fabric so the long folds of cloth trailed on either side like ribbons.

Spinning in front of the mirror, Hua Che asked the empty room with a hint of shyness:
“Do I look okay…?”

He touched the fox ears on his head, fiddling with them nervously. It was the first time he’d cared so much about how he looked.

“You already look amazing, Brother Hua Che,” said Fujiwara Yebai from his chair, watching with amusement. “All dressed up like this—are you going somewhere special?”

Hua Che smiled, mysterious and a bit bashful. His foxlike eyes crinkled into playful slits.
“It’s a big day.”

He was a little fox, radiant and full of anticipation.

Even putting on makeup had him second-guessing himself—should he go bold, or keep it soft? He rarely did his own makeup anyway. Usually, the shop manager would call a professional to do it for him.

The makeup kit in front of him looked like a maze of products and tools, and he hesitated, frozen by indecision.

“I’ve got it!” Yebai bounced over, brandishing a glittery blush compact.

“You must be meeting someone really important, right? Don’t worry—I know just what to do.”

Yebai’s touch was light but practiced. The blush at the corners of Hua Che’s eyes was just enough to evoke sympathy, not seduction. He added a subtle highlight on the collarbone—a glossy touch with a faint scent of roses, noticeable only up close.

“If this important someone gets close and kisses your neck,” Yebai said with a wink, “they’ll catch just a trace of rose.”

Hua Che looked down, pretending to be preoccupied with brushing his fox tail. “Where did you even learn that?”

“Well, you’ve got natural charm,” Yebai replied smugly. “I have to rely on tricks. I’ll be waiting to hear how it goes.”

The kimono trailed behind Hua Che like a flowing curtain as he quietly stepped out of the dressing room.

He arrived early. The private room was empty.

His heart raced. He clasped his hands together and silently hoped that the one he was waiting for would arrive soon—just as they’d promised.

Time passed slowly. He grew restless. He tugged at the edge of his sleeve, pulling it down further until the fabric dipped dangerously low, exposing a little more skin. Any lower, and there’d be nothing left to the imagination.

The light in the room shimmered on his bare shoulders and delicate collarbone. The butterfly bones of his back cast soft shadows under the lamp.

He shifted, uncrossing and recrossing his legs to let the slit in his skirt fall open naturally.
“Is this too obvious…?” he whispered to himself.

His eyes never left the door.

Then, finally—it opened.

And there he was.

Pei Yu.

Every time Hua Che saw him walk into that room, he knew what it meant: Pei Yu had chosen him again. And that choice had cost a fortune.

Pei Yu wore his usual formal outfit—tie, shirt, tailored suit. Nothing unusual—except for the small detail stitched onto his shoulder: a pink, cartoonish fox, a bit clumsy in its embroidery.

It was Hua Che’s work. He had sewn that little fox himself.

“Good evening, Professor Pei…” he said shyly.

The once-drooping tail behind him perked up and swayed, like a puppy wagging with joy.

Hua Che turned, giving Pei Yu the best view of his outfit. His red and black kimono sat delicately on his frame, the soft folds slipping low across his collarbone. Satin shimmered under the dim lights. The look was bold, sensual—but never vulgar.

The missing inner lining let the fabric drape loosely, revealing more than it concealed. The effect was suggestive—enticing not through exposure, but through imagination.

He looked at Pei Yu and asked softly, “Will you sit beside me tonight?”

Pei Yu took his outstretched hand without hesitation. “Of course.”

Only after Pei Yu sat beside him did Hua Che relax. He let go of the collar he’d been holding tight, letting it fall open naturally. The fabric slipped lower, revealing not just his collarbone but even the gentle rise of his chest.

A blush bloomed across his skin—soft, alluring, vulnerable. His tail swayed again, this time more deliberately.

“I dressed up carefully today,” he whispered, laying a hand gently on Pei Yu’s knee. His tone was light, affectionate.
“Do you think I look good?”

“That’s not even a question,” Pei Yu replied, reaching up to trace the contour of Hua Che’s face, admiring every detail—the blush, the subtle shimmer, the way everything came together.

“You look… stunning. There’s no word beautiful enough.”

The little fox beamed under the praise, eyes sparkling as he pulled his kimono forward slightly.

“I dressed like this just for you,” he said. “Because you said you’d come.”

Pei Yu felt a sudden tightness in his chest and a fierce tenderness in his heart. He wanted to scoop this little fox into his arms and never let go.

Instead, he gently pinched Hua Che’s cheek, holding back with visible restraint.
“You’re getting bolder. Do you even realize what you’re doing, teasing people like this?”

Hua Che grinned, clearly pleased with himself.

He sat up straighter, then pulled the alarm ring off his own finger. He reached for Pei Yu’s hand, intending to place the ring on his.

But the finger wouldn’t fit—the width was too different.

Why is everything about him so long… even his fingers?

Hua Che froze, thoughts briefly wandering in an inappropriate direction.

Pei Yu raised an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?”

“N-nothing!” Hua Che quickly placed the ring on Pei Yu’s pinky instead, securing it with the live clasp.

“I treasure every moment I have with you,” he said quietly. “So even if you scold me or try to scare me off—I won’t run.”

Pei Yu smirked. “I’m not planning to be that cruel.”

“But even if you were… I’d still stay.”

Hua Che’s eyes glowed with joy, unfiltered and radiant.

“I’ve never been this happy before.”

“I used to think no one would ever choose me, not really. People said no one would actually pay that much for a toy… that it wasn’t worth it.”

Pei Yu looked like he wanted to speak, but Hua Che gently cut in.

“I know you don’t think that. That’s why I dared to dream about leaving it all behind.”

“I can’t go back,” he said, his voice steady now. “Not after knowing what real care feels like.”

He took a deep breath, then brightened.

“But let’s not talk about sad things—I’m really, truly happy tonight.”

His joy was unmistakable. He was wearing the same outfit from his bar mitzvah—but this time, it meant something different.

This time, he wore it proudly. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t polished. But it was his.

And the man in front of him saw him not as a commodity—but as a person.

“I belong to Professor Pei now,” he whispered, grinning. “I can finally live without pretending.”

He