After An Alpha Discovered I Have Pheromone Deficiency Syndrome - Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Kissing Healing

A sharp, awkward noise broke the silence behind them.

“I’m going to your school and plaster the whole forum with posters—big-character posters! I’ll expose you!”

“You… and a…”

Pei Yu shifted slightly, lowering his gaze so firmly that the other person quickly fell silent.

The princess gently cupped Hua Che’s fox ears with her hand, soothing and protective.

“If someone can’t even breathe, how can they be reported, huh?”

Pei Yu’s dark eyes held a confident sharpness, leaving no doubt to anyone about the lengths this fierce Alpha would go.

“You’re crazy… Don’t you want to keep your professorship?”

“I just want you to know that pushing someone to the brink like this won’t help anyone.”

Inside the small private booth, it was just the two of them.

Hua Che sat leaning back against Pei Yu’s chest, knees bent, his breathing ragged and uneven.

His breaths came in shallow gasps; he held his breath instinctively, froze for moments as if his lungs had stopped working, then was forced by sheer survival instinct to gasp for air.

His body twitched with uncontrollable spasms, limbs limp and unresponsive like a broken doll.

Pei Yu quickly fished a small pillbox from his briefcase, prepared after the last frightening episode, just in case.

“Open your mouth,” he instructed gently.

But Hua Che seemed distant, his eyes glassy and unfocused, blinking slowly as if floating somewhere far away.

Pei Yu’s fingers brushed Hua Che’s cold lips, softly prying them open, then pressed the bitter pill onto his tongue.

The sharp bitterness spread instantly, filling the little fox’s mouth with an unpleasant sting.

Hua Che remained still, like a puppet without a soul—no reaction, no resistance, barely aware.

He didn’t swallow at once, and seemed deaf to Pei Yu’s voice, like a machine gone silent.

“Ka—kiyo,” Pei Yu whispered.

No reply.

So Pei Yu poured some water into his own mouth, pressed Hua Che’s chin, and pressed their lips together.

His fingers gently pressed Hua Che’s throat, applying subtle pressure on the Adam’s apple, helping the bitter medicine flow down safely without choking.

The taste was sharp and rough—enough to make anyone grimace.

But in Hua Che’s vacant eyes, a flicker of surprise appeared. Clutching Pei Yu’s sleeve, he nervously swallowed the medicine as he lifted his head.

That kiss—their very first—was bitter, tinged with the medicine’s harshness.

Pei Yu’s plan worked: though some medicine lingered on his own tongue, most was sent down Hua Che’s throat.

Still, he didn’t release the fox in his arms, and Hua Che didn’t push him away.

They understood each other without words.

Hua Che lifted his chin, almost surrendering himself to Pei Yu’s hold, seeking to deepen the unexpected, precious kiss.

Pei Yu paused briefly, then tilted his head and kissed more fiercely.

His tongue traced lightly over Hua Che’s upper lip. The fox’s eyes fluttered with growing emotion, slowly glazing over with tears shimmering like crystals.

His delicate eyebrows lifted; his pale cheeks blushed a tender pink.

Still unable to breathe properly, Hua Che’s chest heaved with deep emotion. The suffocating intensity of the kiss hurt far more than any illness.

Pei Yu watched him carefully, only letting go once Hua Che’s eyes rolled back slightly.

A thin string of saliva, mixed with bitter medicine, stretched between their lips.

Hua Che gasped rapidly, clutching his chest as if to hold it in place.

“Florets, listen to my voice,” Pei Yu murmured softly as he circled behind him and leaned close, pressing his cheek against Hua Che’s.

His hands wrapped around Hua Che’s ribs, feeling the bones beneath.

“Start now—breathe with me.”

Pei Yu’s voice was gentle and soothing, without a hint of force.

“Try to take a breath… hold for one second… now exhale slowly… one, two…”

Hua Che struggled to match Pei Yu’s rhythm, gripping his wrist tightly and trying to steady his wild breaths.

His chest felt tight, body trembling uncontrollably, limbs stiff and nearly numb.

“That’s okay. It’s fine if you can’t keep up perfectly,” Pei Yu comforted, patting his chest softly.

“Good boy. You’re doing great. Let’s try again.”

Pei Yu’s patience was endless. Calm and steady, he helped the frazzled little fox regain control over his breathing.

His instructions, grounded in medical knowledge and meditation techniques, came naturally—almost instinctive.

Slowly, Hua Che’s breathing steadied, his eyes refocusing, returning to awareness.

Though still weak and sluggish, he looked more composed.

The medicine and the breathing exercise pulled him back from the brink of losing himself completely.

His lips, pressed in that hard kiss, were no longer pale but flushed, full and tender.

His cheeks remained faintly pink, tear-streaked but more beautiful than ever.

Pei Yu exhaled with relief, sweat soaking his back.

This wasn’t his first time caring for someone on the edge of collapse—but it was the first time he’d felt such nervousness.

“Feeling better? Are your limbs still numb?”

Hua Che gave a faint nod and sank weakly against him.

He no longer felt pain, but had no strength to move.

That frustrating sensation—mind willing but body refusing—made him uneasy. The numbness was like his hands and feet had disappeared.

“I’ll massage you a bit. It should help. Rest for a while, okay?”

Pei Yu kept his voice calm and warm, rubbing Hua Che’s stiff muscles with steady hands.

He knew that this state was serious—on the edge of a breakdown that could lead to institutionalization.

But such truths didn’t matter now.

His touch moved from arms to calves, gradually coaxing life back into Hua Che’s body.

At first, Hua Che felt only faint sensations, but soon the feeling grew stronger.

He flinched away from the next touch, knees pulling in protectively.

His calves reddened under the pressure, finger marks visible on his soft skin.

“That hurts…” he murmured.

“Okay, no more. That’s enough pain to wake things up. Can you move now?”

Hua Che nodded, placing his wrist gently on his knee.

“But I don’t want to move… I just want to stay like this.”

“That’s fine. Stay as long as you need.”

Hua Che shifted to a more comfortable position, leaning against Pei Yu’s chest.

His mind still foggy, paused by the medicine, not wanting to rush.

The sweat dampened his clothes, sticking uncomfortably to his skin.

“This… do I look ugly now?”

Pei Yu blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected the fragile little fox—just rescued from collapse—to ask such a thing.

“Last time you pushed me away in the bathroom,” Hua Che said softly. “You didn’t want me to see me like this.”

Pei Yu pulled him close, brushing away his tear-stained cheeks with the back of his hand.

“You’re not ugly. You’re unlike anyone else. Don’t worry.”

“Why do you care so much?” Hua Che whispered. “Xiaohua, you need to rest now.”

“I have to be beautiful enough for people to like me. They only like me if I’m beautiful.”

He had never denied his own allure, his power to captivate with his looks—and he believed that was all he had.

Maybe that was why he thought he could win Pei Yu’s heart.

“You are beautiful,” Pei Yu said softly, “but that’s the smallest part of who you are.”

Hua Che looked away, tears welling up again.

“But… I’ve already cost you so much… And I’ll cost you more.”

“This is a bottomless pit. Many people spend millions on artists like me… Why would you waste so much on me?”

He pulled away from Pei Yu’s arms, grabbed the edge of the table, and pulled himself upright.

“I said you’re worth it. I don’t mind spending millions.”

Pei Yu didn’t pull him back, but a tight ache filled his chest.

“You don’t have to worry about money. I’ll find a way to take you away—millions or even buying the whole Lingguan if I have to.”

“I’m not short on money. I started university at fourteen and have been a professor for over twenty years. I don’t care for extravagance. Money just accumulates.”

Hua Che sat back, facing Pei Yu silently.

In the quiet, Pei Yu realized he’d been too forceful.

He sighed softly.

“Sorry, I got carried away. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.”

Hua Che tore open a candy wrapper and popped a hard candy into his mouth.

“Professor Pei, let’s just say we’re both a little crazy right now.”

“What?”

“I want you to kiss me.”

The little fox’s voice was soft and a little slurred through the candy.

“I don’t want our first kiss to taste bitter.”

He just wanted a kiss—right now.