After Alpha Discovered Pheromone Hunger - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Dating Alone

That was an unmistakable hint.

Offering up his delicate neck into someone’s palm—clearly being choked, yet wearing an expression of pleasure while whispering, “Thank you.”

Hua Che was like the most masterful succubus in the world, intimately familiar with the human heart. No one could escape his trap.

He took Pei Yu’s hand, and through a layer of thin gauze, lightly pressed a kiss on the back of the very hand that had just choked him.

The warm, damp sensation vanished in an instant.

By the time Pei Yu realized what had happened, Hua Che had already released his hand and turned to walk back toward the stage.

After a few steps, he seemed to remember something and turned his head with a smile, his eyes full of charm and flirtation.

“Until we meet again, dear guest.”

For the first time, Hua Che stopped smiling. He paused mid-step and looked at Pei Yu for a few extra seconds.

He wasn’t smiling anymore. In those calm eyes, tears still shimmered, and his reddened eyes were even more noticeable than when he was being choked.

In just a split second, a crystal-clear tear slid down from the corner of his eye, soaking into the veil hanging beside his ear.

“He really cried—so beautifully! Professor Pei, what did he say to you?”

Zemura Koichi leaned in and slung an arm around Pei Yu’s shoulder. Clearly drunk, his words in Sakura-go (Japanese) were slurred with excitement.

Pei Yu’s eyes didn’t leave Hua Che’s figure.

In the depths of his chest, something stirred—like a buried emotion breaking through the surface—just a faint tremor, even more fleeting than Hua Che’s moment of vulnerability.

A professional instinct suddenly flared, ringing like a siren in his mind.

From that momentary crack, he sensed an air of sadness.

As a professor of psychiatry, it was a familiar scent.

Pei Yu withdrew his gaze, sat back down, and took a light sip of his drink.

The sound of silver bells slowly faded away, while the teasing and crude remarks around him only grew louder, with some guests making lewd guesses and comments about Hua Che getting choked.

“Hua Che—is he a marked Omega?”

Pei Yu suddenly asked, his tone so calm it sounded nearly mechanical.

Zemura Koichi paused, then chuckled, “No, no one’s ever marked him.”

“You didn’t see it? The top courtesan of Ling Pavilion—the price for an absolute mark is sky-high.”

Pei Yu glanced around the hall at the gathered elites and power players.

“These people aren’t short on money.”

That flawless body, that breathtaking smile, and those eyes seductively potent like a drug—it was no wonder the price was so high.

He deserved to be taken away. In fact, he should’ve been taken away long ago.

“Because he’s so popular, Ling Pavilion won’t let go of their cash cow.”

Zemura Koichi explained matter-of-factly.

“As long as the price is high enough…” Pei Yu murmured.

Zemura Koichi laughed and said, “Looks like our Professor Pei really doesn’t know much about how Ling Pavilion works.”

He gestured around the room. “Everyone here thinks Hua Che should always be dancing on stage. He belongs to everyone’s gaze, but never to anyone’s arms.”

“Did you know, Professor Pei? A lot of people go on dates with others right after watching him dance. The price tonight? Very few would pay that much just to drink with a performer who doesn’t sleep with clients. They either book someone else, or bring their own company to a private room…”

He rested his hand on Pei Yu’s shoulder, eyes trailing Hua Che who had returned to the stage.

The fox’s back arched as he walked, and the pink tail swayed enticingly behind him.

“Professor Pei, he’s just a trigger for desire. For the audience, he’s not even the main course.”

Pei Yu’s hand paused slightly, still holding his wine glass.

Zemura Koichi continued, “No one actually wants to bring him ashore. They watch a dance, get turned on, then find another outlet.”

“Among everyone here, who truly likes him?”

He emphasized the word “likes.”

That pure kind of liking.

When Pei Yu said nothing, Zemura Koichi chuckled and joked:

“Professor Pei, don’t you think the people at Ling Pavilion are too good at reading others?”

“Imagine—a performer dancing seductively, inspiring all sorts of dirty thoughts, and he’s actually a virgin?”

He really was drunk—his words had lost all filter.

A decadent vessel—gazed at, fantasized over, objectified—but never loved.

Pei Yu rubbed a finger along the glass beaded with condensation, then asked softly:

“…Does he want to leave?”

Zemura Koichi tipped his head back and took a drink, laughing as he said:

“That? Who cares?”

Pei Yu’s gaze darkened. He didn’t speak for a long while.

Each time he looked up, it felt like he was meeting Hua Che’s eyes.

The fox was clearly familiar with his own dance—each movement fluid and seductive, brimming with implication.

His eyes swept past Pei Yu’s direction again and again, quickly averting as though nothing had happened.

At first, Pei Yu thought he was imagining it. But as the music continued, the number of glances increased, and the odd feeling grew stronger.

Pei Yu stood out in the crowd.

A dark gray suit broadened his shoulders, the tailored fabric impeccably pressed. A glimpse of an old-fashioned mechanical watch at the cuff—a discreet display of wealth.

The air around the others was heavy with lust, yet Pei Yu seemed untouched, almost aloof.

The only concession was a single undone shirt button.

Calm and restrained, his demeanor suggested a man forged by time and experience—composed to the point of being inhuman.

He neither relaxed nor blended in.

Zemura Koichi, unable to stand the oppressive calm of sitting beside him, turned and said:

“Professor Pei, if you’re uncomfortable, I’ll go outside with you for some air.”

He added jokingly, “Honestly, you’re too conspicuous sitting here. Even I feel suffocated.”

“I’ve noticed—Hua Che keeps looking at you. If he gets flustered and trips mid-dance, we won’t be able to afford the compensation.”

But this time, Pei Yu didn’t try to leave like usual.

He kept his eyes on that dazzling figure on stage, and spoke flatly:

“…How much is his price tonight?”

Zemura Koichi blinked, taken aback.

“Are you serious?”

He paused for a long while, sobering up a little from the shock.

“So you really are… interested in him?”

But Pei Yu didn’t look impulsive, didn’t seem overwhelmed by desire, not even faintly moved.

Zemura Koichi started to wonder if it was just the alcohol messing with his head.

He scratched his head awkwardly.

“The price is sky-high, and you’ll have to be quick. He’s not the only one who wants Hua Che tonight.”

“Whatever the price is—I can afford it.”

Pei Yu replied.

Zemura Koichi was genuinely surprised, sipping his wine and laughing:

“Wow… I didn’t expect that. Even Hua Che, that little fox, could shake Professor Pei.”

He leaned closer and teased: “I always thought you only cared about case studies. Didn’t expect our Professor Pei to be just another mortal man.”

Pei Yu gave him a glance and spoke like he was in a lecture:

“Fusion-type Omega, mentally unstable, shows a high degree of self-domestication tendency, but we can’t rule out severe self-destructive behavior. As an experimental subject for latent self-destructive personality—he’s ideal…”

“Stop! Just stop right there!”

Zemura Koichi took a deep breath, feeling like he’d just been smacked in the face by knowledge. “Are you serious…? You just asked about his price, and now you’re analyzing him like a case file? Why am I hearing this kind of stuff at Ling Pavilion…”

He sighed dramatically, like he’d just barely survived:

“No wonder they call you Professor P. You even work in a pleasure house.”

“You’re really not suited for romance. No wonder you’re still single. Poor little fox—he came right up to you to interact, and he runs into a block of wood like you.”

Pei Yu smiled faintly, but said nothing.

Even he didn’t know if what he’d said was an excuse—or just a smokescreen.

The manager was an older man. Zemura Koichi had pulled some strings and raised the offer several times before finally sealing the deal.

Pei Yu held his suit jacket in his hand. Even his shirt’s top button was now done, his tie neat enough to attend a formal academic conference.

The manager stared at him a while before finally speaking: “You’re offering a high price, and of course we welcome that.”

“But I must remind you—Hua Che does not sell his body. If you cross the line, by house rules, he has the right to end the session.”

Pei Yu nodded, face calm.

With that kind of price, he could’ve done anything. Yet all he wanted was to sit and drink with a courtesan from Ling Pavilion.

The manager was clearly uneasy and added, “If you have other intentions, I can cancel the arrangement now.”

Pei Yu didn’t flinch. “No need to cancel. I understand perfectly.”

The manager didn’t say more and gave a polite smile: “Good.”

The lighting in the room was dim, just right for creating an intimate mood.

Pei Yu knelt on the tatami. His knees began to ache, so he sat cross-legged instead, the fabric of his suit trousers creasing slightly.

He waited patiently, not once urging the staff.

The manager had said: Until dawn, Hua Che’s time belonged to him.

The door creaked open, and a faint scent of roses wafted in, drawing Pei Yu’s gaze.

Hua Che had changed into something even thinner than his stage outfit. Technically, it was a semi-sheer, modernized robe—wrapped around his torso a few times, exposing his collarbones, with not even an underlayer for modesty.

A long, sheer piece of fabric trailed to the floor, wrapped slightly more around his chest and lower belly for minimal coverage, but it was all incredibly suggestive. In places with only one layer, his body’s contours were faintly visible.

Just that outer veil gave the illusion that one tug could reveal everything.

He walked barefoot on the tatami, his fox tail swaying behind him, sweeping from leg to leg.

His cheeks were flushed unnaturally, eyes wet, breath uneven—like he was already prepped for the main course, or perhaps already immersed in it.

That redness radiated from under his skin, a burning crimson that screamed of heat and longing.

Hua Che knelt across the table, thin gauze trailing behind him, keeping a full arm’s length from Pei Yu.

He wore a calm, familiar smile. His fox-like eyes were filled with open seduction and ambition, but the flush on his cheeks softened the threat, stirring only a primal urge to pounce.

His presence heated the air, and even Pei Yu felt a scratch in his throat.

He sat quietly in front of Pei Yu, staring at him with eyes that seemed to understand too much.

At last, he spoke:

“Good evening, guest.”

“I didn’t expect you to stay for me tonight. I’m very lucky.”

Still in flawless Shenzhou dialect.