Empire of Desire: An Alpha’s Financial Reign - Chapter 20

At the Central Medical Research Institute of China, the sterile scent of disinfectant hung in the air, mixing with the quiet hum of fluorescent lights. Han Zaijing sat across from her aunt, Dr. Lin Jin, a renowned endocrine specialist. Between them lay a printed report—fresh from the institute’s diagnostic center. Both stared at it in silence, brows furrowed, weighed down by its implications.

The document revealed something alarming. Han Zaijing’s pheromone levels had spiked four times in a single month—an anomaly far beyond the norm. Typically, individuals experienced only one susceptible or estrus period per month, but this frequency hinted at something deeper: a persistent instability in her pheromonal regulation system.

“What does this mean?” Han Zaijing’s voice was low, tense. She already had a hunch, but hearing it out loud was another matter.

Lin Jin adjusted her glasses and spoke gravely. “Four peaks in one month—this exceeds the standard frequency for a healthy Alpha. It’s not just a hormonal fluctuation. It suggests a disorder… but not the typical pheromone imbalance. Your body isn’t exhibiting any of the usual secondary symptoms like organ dysfunction or neurological instability. That’s what’s strange.”

She leaned back, crossing her arms. “This allows for plausible deniability. If anyone outside this lab got ahold of your records, they might assume a minor condition. But anyone who studied this closely… might begin to suspect the truth.”

Han Zaijing knew what she meant: her pheromones weren’t just overactive—they were evolving. Mutating, even. Potentially becoming high-level enough to draw dangerous attention in a society where such traits could be weaponized or exploited.

“The inhibitors,” she asked quietly, “Can they still help me through just one of the episodes?”

Lin Jin’s gaze softened. “Barely. The resistance is growing. Your body’s rejecting the formula more aggressively every cycle. It might help once, maybe twice more—but beyond that…” She hesitated before continuing. “You need exposure to diverse, high-quality Omega pheromones. Physical proximity, maybe more. It could stabilize the disorder—or at least delay the resistance buildup.”

Han Zaijing leaned back in her chair, letting out a long sigh. The idea of purposefully surrounding herself with Omegas like a parasite didn’t sit well with her, but she understood the logic. “I’ve been reading up,” she said. “About how pheromones adapt. The literature suggests resisting them too aggressively actually worsens the instability.

They evolve in response to stimuli. So maybe… maybe I need to stop fighting it and start understanding it.”

Lin Jin offered a rare smile. “Exactly. Let the bullet fly for a while, observe, adapt. This isn’t a curse, Zaijing. It’s a gift—and a challenge. You need to treat it like both.”
Han Zaijing nodded, a new clarity in her eyes. she had made her decision.

Later that evening, after collecting the newly synthesized inhibitor from the hospital, Han Zaijing returned to Huaxin University. The air on campus was filled with a different kind of energy—laughter, music, and anticipation.

The week-long Beijing Elite Schools Exchange Program had drawn to a close, and the grand finale was about to begin: a performance evening organized by the Arts and Literature Department. The auditorium was already alive with students filing in, chattering excitedly about the lineup.

Tonight’s spotlight shone brightest on Ni Jia, a double major in journalism and business operations, and the evening’s main host and final performer.

Ni Jia was already something of a legend on campus. Her beauty alone could turn heads—alabaster skin, soft bangs framing expressive eyes that seemed to hold secrets, a delicate nose, and an elegant posture born from ten years of ballet training. Tonight, she wore a strapless lotus-pink evening gown, hugging her figure with tastefully placed sequins that shimmered under stage lights.

As she stepped onto the stage, the room erupted in applause. Her confidence radiated in every step she took, her voice resonating with a natural charm. She introduced the performances with clarity and grace, quickly winning over both the students and faculty in attendance.

The night moved forward in a blur of music, spoken word, and drama. Finally, it was Ni Jia’s time to perform. She reappeared on stage, her hair now tied up, revealing the graceful curve of her neck. Her movements, a blend of jazz and street dance, were both precise and expressive—her body telling stories even before the music’s lyrics caught up.

The auditorium buzzed with cheers and thunderous claps.
Offstage, Han Zaijing watched silently from the wings. Her eyes followed Ni Jia’s every move, a mix of pride and something warmer, deeper.

When the curtain finally fell, and the lights dimmed, Ni Jia took her final bow, a soft smile on her lips and her eyes twinkling with satisfaction. She was met backstage with enthusiastic congratulations—and the gaze of Lin Ziyin, the student union president of Central University of Finance and Economics, who had been smitten with Ni Jia since the first day of the exchange week.

He took a deep breath, straightened his jacket, and approached her.

“Ni Jia,” he said, voice slightly tremulous, “I’m Lin Ziyin. Your performance was incredible. I… I was wondering if I could add you on WeChat?”

Ni Jia was just about to respond when a warm arm wrapped around her bare shoulders. She looked to her side and saw Han Zaijing standing beside her, gaze steady but slightly amused.

“I’m sorry, Chairman Lin,” Han Zaijing said with a faint smile. “I’m Ni Jia’s Alpha.”

Lin Ziyin blinked, forced a polite smile, and quickly retreated, clearly embarrassed.

Ni Jia glanced up at Zaijing, mischief glinting in her eyes. “Did you have to scare him like that? He just wanted my WeChat.”

Zaijing shrugged, grinning. “Alpha instincts. His eyes betrayed his intentions.” She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a bouquet. “Here. These are for your amazing performance. Now… Miss Ni Jia, would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner tonight?”

Ni Jia laughed softly, the sound like wind chimes. “Only if you carry me. My feet are killing me in these heels. And afterward, you owe me a foot massage, a hair-blow dry, and dessert.”

“Deal,” Zaijing replied, wrapping an arm around her waist. The two walked off into the night, bickering and giggling like longtime lovers.

Hours later, after a cozy dinner and gentle massages that dissolved into playful teasing and passion, they collapsed into bed. The phone on Zaijing’s nightstand began to ring insistently.

Ni Jia, still flushed and breathless, nudged her. “Pick it up. It might be important.”

Zaijing groaned and answered, still trying to catch her breath.

“What is it?” she said, slightly annoyed.

On the other end, Jiang Shutong’s calm voice came through. “You sound… breathless. Were you working out?”

Zaijing coughed awkwardly. “Yes, gym. What’s wrong?”

“My estrus started,” Jiang Shutong said bluntly. “I’m out of inhibitors. Bring me some. Or come yourself.”
She hung up.

Zaijing stared at the screen and muttered, “Such a demanding tone.”

Ni Jia, overhearing everything, burst into laughter. “You really said gym? You’re the worst liar!”

She flopped against Zaijing’s chest, eyes full of amusement. “I’m exhausted. Carry me to the shower, then go deal with your emergency.”

With a sigh and a fond kiss to her temple, Zaijing rose to get dressed. She had barely finished one crisis—and now another awaited.