After Alpha Discovered Pheromone Hunger - Chapter 7
Chapter 7: Flower Street Fox Oiran
That pill was even harsher than Hua Che had expected, intensifying his craving for pheromones. He didn’t need extra coaching—just following his natural instincts during a semi-episode was enough to meet the store manager’s demands.
His distinctive beauty and figure perfectly matched the intensity of his pheromone hunger. When Hua Che performed his first dance at the shop, the reaction far surpassed what the manager had hoped for.
Countless admirers chased after him, lusted after him, and fantasized about him, spending large sums on his charms.
Yet no one ever tried to claim him for themselves, and Hua Che himself never brought it up in front of the customers.
Habits are powerful.
Hua Che grew used to the relentless, burning gazes fixed on his body and the crude, vulgar remarks that seemed like part of the atmosphere.
He felt that this body, ravaged by addiction, would eventually ruin his entire life—and he waited in numb resignation for that day to come.
Naturally, Hua Che became the shop’s top attraction. On the day of his coming-of-age ceremony, he wore a custom-made, extravagant kimono and took part in the Flower Street Parade.
The heavy garment was richly colored, with a lengthy train. Most of his headwear was made of wig pieces, and the gold and silver decorations were so weighty he dared not bow his head.
His pink fox tail curved upward, peeking out from beneath the layered skirts, a delicate silk ribbon tied at its base. The tail’s soft fur moved gently with each step, stirring feelings in onlookers.
The “Fox Oiran” had been trending for quite some time. The pre-release makeup photos became a popular tourism card for the area, attracting many foreign visitors eager to see him.
In those photos, his slightly upturned fox-like eyes were dusted with pink eyeshadow, but the makeup was not overly heavy or traditional.
His lips were a soft red, curved beautifully—not overly seductive, but alluring.
The streets were packed with people, their eyes locked on the newly famous “fox oiran.”
Hua Che steadied himself, one hand resting on someone’s shoulder, as he carefully walked along the stilts that raised him by tens of centimeters, moving slowly down Hua Street.
Rose petals fluttered down onto him, his delicate makeup lending a faint pink tint to his eyes, making him appear more fragile and luminous than the blossoms around him.
“Brother, you’re so beautiful.”
A youthful voice cut through the noise of drums and gongs.
Hua Che’s vacant gaze sharpened slightly as he turned toward the sound.
He glanced down at the boy, noticing the school uniform emblem on his chest.
His eyes grew distant again, following the practiced rhythm of his steps as he moved forward.
When he first arrived in Sakurazuru, he was probably about that boy’s age.
The heavy hair accessories caused his neck to ache, and by the time he reached the end of the street, his calves throbbed painfully.
Dragging the weight of his voluminous skirt, he pressed on along the path strewn with petals.
The boy in the uniform, clutching a family member’s arm, followed behind.
Crowds thickened on either side, gradually blocking the street.
Out of the corner of his eye, Hua Che saw the boy slowly fall behind until he was completely out of sight.
The distance grew wider and wider until the boy could no longer see Hua Che’s figure—only the rose-petal-covered street and the trails left by the dragging skirt.
…
“Brother Hua Che, are you awake?”
Ye Bai returned to the dorm carrying a meal from the cafeteria.
He pulled out the familiar suit from his bag.
“This dress got dropped in the bathroom yesterday, so it’s pretty dirty. If we don’t wash it soon, the stains might not come out. But…”
He hesitated, showing the torn shoulder.
“It’s ripped here. I asked around, and professionally repairing this kind of suit is really expensive. I don’t have that kind of money…”
“It’s fine, Night White. The owner probably won’t come back for it.”
Hua Che’s voice was flat, as if the matter was already settled.
Still, his fingers traced the torn seam, fascinated by the feel of the fabric beneath his touch.
Professor Pei was different from any guest Hua Che had ever met. He wasn’t a usual customer at Lingguan.
Hua Che still couldn’t figure out why Pei Yu had spent money to buy him for the night.
He didn’t believe that just a simple gesture—like pulling someone’s hand to his neck—could sway an Alpha.
The used bell rested in Hua Che’s palm, gradually warming from his touch.
He wasn’t sure if his attempts to use it had worked this time. Judging by the results, probably not.
Bells are supposed to bring joy, but Hua Che didn’t seem to find much pleasure.
He recalled Pei Yu’s words, puzzled.
He could feel pain and cold, but how was that enjoyment? How could he enjoy it?
His chest was still red, despite the ointment, burning especially when rubbed against clothes, causing an itch.
If it was enjoyable, would Professor Pei be able to do that?
With a clatter, Hua Che tossed the bell back into his drawer.
He felt foolish for even pondering this. There was no contact info left behind, and likely no chance of seeing Pei Yu again.
“Night White, how much money should I transfer to you?”
Hua Che had never bought anything like that before—not once.
He knew what would happen if he triggered pheromone hunger after using it the first time; he probably wouldn’t survive without it for a day or two.
He could only rely on endurance—the simplest and most naive method.
“No need, Brother Hua Che. It’s not expensive.”
Ye Bai waved his hand repeatedly.
“If you need anything else, just ask me. Brother Hua Che is always the best to me.”
Hua Che gave up resisting and ordered a small gift online.
“Do you have a needle and thread box? I want to fix this suit.”
“Yeah, I do.”
Ye Bai rummaged and found one quickly.
“But this suit is tricky to mend and needs special thread. I don’t have the right kind here.”
“It’s fine. They say the owner won’t return anyway.”
Hua Che took out some pink thread and followed an online tutorial to sew a simple patch of a little fox’s head on the shoulder.
His beginner stitching was rough, some lines unconnected, but the overall shape was smooth.
It was a chubby little fox with big round eyes and tall ears, smiling widely.
After admiring his handiwork, Hua Che’s phone buzzed with a notification:
[From “MOOC app”: Introduction to Psychiatry]
[Keynote instructor “Professor Pei” posted a class reminder.]
Hua Che froze and stared at the message.
This Professor Pei was Pei Yu—the psychiatry professor from Kyoto University, and the same Pei Yu he had briefly met at Lingguan.
He was very familiar with this professor, having followed his charity MOOCs online repeatedly.
In the dim light of Lingguan, Hua Che could recognize that familiar figure instantly.
Only then would he dare put on the clip he’d never used before, show up for the appointment, and say, “I want to leave this place with you.”
The fox was sincere; everything he said came from his heart.
At least at that moment, Hua Che allowed himself a fleeting, almost unprecedented hope.
He tapped the MOOC notification.
As the app opened, an advertisement slogan appeared:
“A good university has no walls.”
Every time Hua Che saw this, he paused slightly.
He sat by his bed, leaning against the windowpane.
The glass fragmented the sunset’s light, casting shards over his body—like a cage.
Instead of warmth, he felt a deep chill creeping in, his limbs stiffening and trembling.
Who said there were no walls?
Would there soon be a thick barrier between him and Professor Pei?
[Professor Pei posted: Course Question Box (visible only to instructors)]
[Tip: Students may privately submit questions to the speaker.]
Hua Che had followed many MOOCs but never encountered a private question box like this—especially not after meeting Professor Pei.
His mind raced.
He quickly typed a question:
“Can a special piece of clothing make someone give up on suicide? From UserPink Fox.”
The question was unrelated to the course, purely personal.