TYMIMA Chapter 73

Past noon, Zhan Pingchuan finally woke.

 

He raised his arm to shield his eyes, struggling to adjust to the light before moving it away: “Baby?”

 

“You’re awake?” Lance walked to the bedside wrapped in the jacket.

 

“Come here for a cuddle.” Zhan Pingchuan half-squinted, opening one arm.

 

Lance obediently leaned down, only to be hooked by Zhan Pingchuan and pulled onto the bed.

 

“Mm.” Lance tumbled onto Zhan Pingchuan, his just-tied red hair scattering across the bed again.

 

“Waking so early—seems I still didn’t ask for enough.” Zhan Pingchuan teased, then lifted Lance’s hair to check his gland.

 

The bitten spot had healed and scabbed over, leaving a clear mark.

 

His mark.

 

Zhan Pingchuan’s gaze immediately softened. He pressed a kiss to the gland, rather reluctant to let go.

 

Lance shivered on top of him: “Don’t!”

 

With his heat over, he really couldn’t do any more. After three days of overuse, he still wasn’t very comfortable.

 

This was too intense for an Omega’s first intimate contact with an Alpha.

 

“Uncomfortable? It was too late yesterday—the school clinic was closed, otherwise I’d have gotten you some anti-inflammatory ointment.”

 

“That’s not necessary.”

 

After all, that part of an Omega was meant to endure such things, so it would recover quickly. By this time tomorrow, it basically wouldn’t hurt anymore.

 

Zhan Pingchuan held the little fox ball in his arms, kneading and squeezing for ages before reluctantly letting go and sitting up.

 

“Hungry, right? Wait a moment, I’ll take you to eat.” Zhan Pingchuan jumped out of bed, headed straight for the bathroom, turned on the tap, quickly washed up, and came out shaking water from his face.

 

Just as Lance was about to take off the jacket and return it, Zhan Pingchuan stopped him, wrapping it around him again: “I like you carrying my scent.”

 

Lance thought privately: there’s already plenty inside and out.

 

When they went out toward the cafeteria, they discovered that many students had left school to go home during these three days.

 

Winter break had officially begun.

 

This meant their long-distance relationship would start soon too.

 

Thinking of this sad matter, Zhan Pingchuan couldn’t help talking more: “Do you want to go home first or straight to Desert City?”

 

“Not sure. The offer hasn’t come yet—if I get through, I might go straight to Desert City.”

 

Zhan Pingchuan thought: the offer will definitely come through—after all, you’re my wife.

 

“It’s gotten so much colder now, and you don’t handle cold well. Desert City winds are like knives this time of year—do you have enough warm clothes?”

 

Lance looked up from his beef porridge, puzzled: “My wardrobe—don’t you often go through it, even like to smell my clothes?”

 

Zhan Pingchuan: “…”

 

He just occasionally missed the scent of star magnolia pheromones—after all, in Desert City, they didn’t have such delicate small trees.

 

These things couldn’t tolerate drought or humidity, didn’t like urban pollution or strong winds—just like little fox, clearly meant to be pampered and treasured like a precious thing.

 

“Cough, don’t work too hard there. Just have fun when you’re free—the Yardang landforms are quite spectacular. Don’t go alone though, it’s easy to get lost inside. Have Ghost Eye arrange a car to take you, and take lots of photos for your husband to see.”

 

Lance was so speechless he actually laughed: “I’m going to intern, not tour. Do you think Ghost Eye is my home, arranging cars to take me sightseeing?”

 

Zhan Pingchuan: “.”

 

It will be your home sooner or later, baby.

 

As they chatted, Lance’s phone rang. He glanced over—a new email.

 

Opening it, he saw a huge “Congratulations” at the top—it was Ghost Eye Guild’s internship offer.

 

“My CV got through, so fast.” Lance suddenly looked up, eyes brightening.

 

He’d guessed he’d probably get through, but hadn’t expected the offer to come so quickly.

 

After all, he was only a freshman competing with many sophomore and junior students.

 

Zhan Pingchuan smiled meaningfully: “That’s definitely because baby is too excellent—they have good taste.”

 

Lance: “Can’t say that—perhaps competition wasn’t fierce this year.”

 

Lance continued reading.

 

Ghost Eye Guild was indeed serious and rigid—every sentence written without emotion, showing that the HR leader had a practical, down-to-earth style.

 

Zhan Pingchuan was satisfied, carefully observing Lance’s expression: “So happy?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Lance’s eyes sparkled—after all, this way he could legitimately investigate Ghost Eye Guild.

 

“Sigh, mine hasn’t come yet. Don’t know if I can pass High Tower’s CV screening.” Zhan Pingchuan tapped his bowl edge with chopsticks, feigning worry.

 

Lance put down the email and slowly looked up: “Don’t worry, you definitely can.”

 

You’re White Pharaoh’s little wolf cub—who would dare not let you through?

 

Sure enough, when they finished eating and returned to the dorm, Zhan Pingchuan received High Tower Guild’s offer.

 

Unlike Ghost Eye Guild, High Tower Guild’s email was full of emotional value—lively and interesting, conveying a relaxed atmosphere before even arriving.

 

“Seems Teacher White’s bad review didn’t affect me much—there are still guilds with discerning eyes.” Zhan Pingchuan excitedly pulled Lance over, demanding a reward kiss.

 

Lance indulgently kissed him back.

 

Little idiot, so easy to coax, so cute.

 

Lance caressed the Alpha’s broad shoulders, responding to his kiss whilst finding time to say: “Harbor Tan is also very… beautiful. Remember to try… emperor salmon and gem pears, eat more.”

 

“That can’t be cheap in Harbor Tan either, right?” Zhan Pingchuan licked his moist lips before asking in surprise.

 

After all, these two things had extremely limited production, especially gem pears, which could only be grown in Harbor Tan’s environment, so even their family couldn’t eat them daily.

 

Lance said lovingly: “Internship salary can afford it.”

 

Little idiot probably hadn’t eaten good things since childhood—his mother died early, and his father had to work two jobs: collecting rubbish and stealing bicycles.

 

Zhan Pingchuan was shocked.

 

Could it be that such low-production items were actually affordable fruit for the people in Harbor Tan? Even internship wages could buy them?

 

Lance kissed his suddenly widened eyes, thinking: I’ll give my little wolf cub the best fruit to eat.

 

That evening, they each booked flights. There were many flights from the capital to Harbor Tan—Zhan Pingchuan got one for tomorrow afternoon, whilst Lance booked the day after tomorrow evening.

 

University internships generally lasted a month, which meant they couldn’t meet for at least a month.

 

That night, they held each other close. Zhan Pingchuan clung like a nursing wolf cub, constantly asking Lance to release soothing pheromones, wishing he could remember this scent for the entire winter break.

 

Lance kissed the muscle lines of his upper body, then took his two earrings in his mouth. After those three days, Lance discovered that pierced ear bones were extremely sensitive—just one lick and the little wolf cub would immediately react.

 

Finally, Lance turned his back, letting Zhan Pingchuan hold his waist, using only his thighs.

 

Star magnolia fragrance slowly drifted out, welcoming the Alpha’s demands.

 

The next day, Zhan Pingchuan secretly rolled up one of Lance’s pyjamas and set off in high spirits.

 

Boarding the plane, he immediately switched to work mode.

 

After a night of repairs, Adrian’s phone had finally returned to normal.

 

“Listen carefully, I’ll now brief you on Lucas’s situation.”

 

Zhan Pingchuan glanced at the yawning passenger beside him, then picked up the magazine provided on the plane, adopting a lazy posture whilst lightly tapping his micro earpiece.

 

“Our father is a Federation government congressman named Belial Howard. He served as Speaker for four years before being suppressed by competitors and exiled from the restricted zone.”

 

Zhan Pingchuan was somewhat surprised. Adrian had been at Ghost Eye Guild since he was small—he’d always thought Adrian was one of the originals who followed his parents, never imagining this usually restrained and abnormally calm uncle actually came from a political family.

 

“Lucas and I aren’t really father’s biological children. Father’s health was poor and he couldn’t reproduce normally. They initially adopted me, but after several years of adjustment, mother couldn’t develop feelings for me, so she used IVF with another Alpha’s sperm to create an embryo and gave birth to Lucas.”

 

“Father has Asperger’s syndrome. Holding high position and extremely intelligent, to maintain the Howard family’s glory and return to Federation Congress, he was always extremely harsh with Lucas and me.”

 

“Our lives had only one meaning: surpass all competitors, enter Federation Congress, and become father’s support.”

 

“I was always good at studying and worked hard enough. Probably knowing I had no blood relation to either parent, I desperately wanted to fulfil father’s expectations. But Lucas was different.”

 

“He was naturally active, unruly and rebellious. Not only did he consistently rank last, but he often caused trouble that embarrassed father. Father was irritable and violent—whenever Lucas’s performance didn’t meet his expectations, he’d be beaten. The worst time, father nearly broke Lucas’s spine.”

 

Zhan Pingchuan frowned deeply, his expression indescribably disgusted.

 

Actually, Zhan Qinghe had disciplined him plenty as a child, but it was all bark and no bite—he could feel there was love in that discipline, like an adult male tiger training its cub for wilderness survival.

 

But clearly in Belial Howard’s eyes, children were just tools for his return to power’s peak, his face, his slaves.

 

“My existence obviously made Lucas’s situation more difficult. The achievements I made, the glory I gained, were all reasons for father to beat him. Lucas resented and hated me.”

 

“He became increasingly strange and gloomy. He often grinned maliciously, even whilst being beaten. He gradually came to like bloody, dark things, would stuff headless dead mice in my bedding. Doctors said he needed psychiatric treatment, but father wouldn’t allow it because it would shame the Howard family.”

 

“Later, mother couldn’t stand it. She wouldn’t allow me to be Lucas’s threat, so she framed me for crimes, completely disqualifying me from running for Federation Congress. Father decided I had no value and expelled me from the family.”

 

“…Uncle.” Zhan Pingchuan felt uncomfortable listening.

 

“Let me finish.” Adrian’s tone remained composed and calm, as if he were just narrating someone else’s story.

 

“I was twenty-two when I left, Lucas fourteen. He didn’t know the inside story and thought I’d escaped hell alone, abandoning him.”

 

“After I left, father’s supervision and domestic violence towards Lucas became even more terrifying. His thinking gradually became paranoid—he even wanted fourteen-year-old Lucas to be forcibly impregnated and bear a child for him to raise anew.”

 

“I only learned these things later, because four years after, Lucas ran away from home. The first thing he did was try to assassinate me.”

 

“He didn’t succeed. During our fight, I learned of his abilities: [Night Raven Strike] and [Shadow Anchoring]. After the failed assassination, he went to High Tower Guild.”

 

“Why didn’t he kill Belial Howard?” Zhan Pingchuan was puzzled.

 

According to Adrian’s account, Lucas had never lived a normal life since childhood. All his suffering was thanks to his adoptive father—before coming to assassinate Adrian, shouldn’t he have killed the adoptive father first?

 

“He no longer needed to assassinate father. Father fell ill and forgot everything, including his obsession with power and family mission. Absurdly, he became a kind and harmless person. The person Lucas wanted revenge on had disappeared.”

 

“I’m just telling you that Lucas is unruly, rebellious, and cold-natured. When he doesn’t consider you the same kind, you’ll find it very difficult to approach him.”

 

“Understood.” Zhan Pingchuan got it.

 

Wasn’t this just the story of a child abused since childhood with psychological problems, who finally gained the ability for revenge only to find his enemy had dementia, failed to beat up his adoptive brother, and finally had nowhere to vent his anger until he went mad?

 

To approach such a person, you had to understand his world, even act according to his behavioural logic.

 

That is, after arriving at High Tower Guild, he’d have to restrain his smiles, go to work daily with a faint air of death, and occasionally let out world-weary cold laughs.

 

When chatting, he’d need to subtly reveal his fondness for bloody, gothic, death-like elements to resonate with Lucas.

 

If Lucas was truly connected to the Black Lantern Society, it meant this was an organisation he identified with, where people more or less shared similar childhood experiences.

 

Then if Oliver was really taken by the Black Lantern Society, perhaps for him it was also a kind of salvation.

 

Zhan Pingchuan pondered, slowly closing the magazine.

 

The plane lowered its landing gear, sliding into the runway. The friction noise filled his eardrums as the cabin windows shook violently.

 

Zhan Pingchuan pressed tightly against his seat back.

 

Soon the plane stopped, the announcement sounded, and passengers rose to collect their luggage.

 

Zhan Pingchuan immediately typed with both hands, sending Lance a message—

 

[Baby, I’ve arrived, let me show you photos!]

 

He took a picture of Harbor Tan airport shrouded in mist.

 

Lance put down the Ghost Eye Guild materials he was studying, picked up his phone, and smiled.

 

[Saw it.]

 

Lance exited the chat interface and immediately called his sister.

 

“Sister, he’s arrived. Arrange for someone to pick him up—say it’s a benefit for interns.”

 

At High Tower Guild, Dream Witch put down her phone, her vermillion lips parting in a slight smile: “The naive fool who’s stolen our family’s black-hearted little cabbage has arrived. Who’s going to pick him up?”

 

Lily’s eyes lit up as she grabbed her two blue braids: “Is it the little idiot mister who likes spicy beef?”

 

She still remembered what she’d seen in Lance’s notebook.

 

Duma lifted his head from the Lego, his round eyes looking toward the small elevator that delivered food daily: “Spicy beef, Duma has never eaten it.”

 

His battleship had already taken shape, occupying a large space on the carpet.

 

Oliver turned to the next page of instructions, gently inserting the flag at the top of the battleship. The onesie pajamas really hindered arm movement, so he had to roll up his sleeves.

 

His arms were still skin and bones, but his complexion was no longer sickly pale. Fata’s medicine had worked wonders, gradually restoring his body that had been depleted for years.

 

Dream Witch extended one finger, wagging it at Duma with a serious tone: “No, you’re allergic to chilli.”

 

Duma hugged his knees, slowly turning around bit by bit to face away from Dream Witch, like a speechless mushroom.

 

Oliver smiled as he patted his head: “The battleship… is finished.”

 

Duma opened his right palm to Oliver, revealing two small red components, puzzled: “What about these?”

 

Oliver raised his hand, placing two other small figurines in Duma’s palm: “These are… gifts for Duma.”

 

Duma seemed struck by something, his palm patting his calves lightly a few times before he lifted his chin with satisfaction.

 

Abaddon slowly raised his hand, saying in his muffled voice: “I’ll go pick up the young madam. I’ll drive Mad Clown’s Maserati.”

 

“Of course I’m going.” Mad Clown showed a mischievous smile at the corner of his lips. He rose from the balcony edge, poking the nearby pothos leaves with his finger. “Three days without replying—those who know, know. Our little cabbage’s heart has been completely devoured.”

 

Fata: “Cough, children present.”

 

Mad Clown immediately commanded: “Little Olive, plug Duma’s ears. Little robot head isn’t allowed to listen to adult talk!”

 

Duma: “Hmph.”

 

Abaddon: “You’re unreliable. I should go.”

 

Unfortunately, his body was too large and clumsy, nowhere near as agile as Mad Clown. Mad Clown directly grabbed the car keys and disappeared by the door in a flash, leaving behind words that grew fainter: “I witnessed their first meeting—I should sit at the main table at their wedding.”

 

He had to extract from this little idiot what exactly they’d done those three days, whether they’d mated, whether there was a permanent mark.

 

As a double agent, he had to report the first-hand ‘good news’ to his boss with the bad heart.

 

Zhan Pingchuan got off the plane and was about to hail a taxi when he heard someone was picking him up.

 

“Nice benefit. Does the rival company value interns this much?”

 

Zhan Pingchuan muttered, shouldering his bag and crouching by the roadside, patiently waiting in the drizzle.

 

Soon, a Maserati stopped at the exit. Mad Clown’s call came through: “Hey intern, do you see a red Maserati?”

 

Zhan Pingchuan certainly saw it—the most ostentatious car there.

 

Zhan Pingchuan immediately put on a faint air of death, walking toward the Maserati with world-weary steps and drooping eyelids.

 

As soon as he got in the car, he planned to express his love for gore. Only this way, through word of mouth, could he establish his persona and slowly approach Lucas.

 

This process might be slow, but with a month’s time, he could wait.

 

“I like red cars, they look like fresh—”

 

Mad Clown showed a brilliant smile, hand on the steering wheel, looking through the rearview mirror: “Let me introduce myself. I’m Lucas, the guild master’s personal assistant. I happened to be running errands nearby today, so I’m picking up the intern. By the way, do you have an O?”

 

Zhan Pingchuan: “…”

 

“Hey, just casual chat.” Mad Clown turned around, propping one hand on the seat back, studying Zhan Pingchuan with interest. “Have you done a permanent mark?”

 

Intelligence had never had such a serious error! And this was intel personally given by his uncle!

 

Cold-natured, difficult to approach, cold-natured, difficult to approach…

 

“…Yeah.” Zhan Pingchuan’s features twitched as he forcibly squeezed away the faint air of death, showing a tired smile. “No.”

 

##

---

 

 (advanced chapters available on kofi)