Extra: The Liar 12 (Huasheng couple + Wolf–Rabbit 2nd couple): Shen Wenlang… be gentler
For a long time, “mating syndrome” was something that only existed in legend.
The only time Shen Wenlang had personally witnessed mating syndrome was when Hua Yong was seventeen.
At the peak of his heat, the Enigma had locked himself in a specially customized safe room, the walls of which were plastered with giant posters of Sheng Shaoyou.
Shen Wenlang had long thought that little maniac was sick in the head.
He had even seen a life-size doll in Hua Yong’s safe room that looked exactly like Sheng Shaoyou.
Hua Yong was addicted to that S-class Alpha far away in Jianghu. So it came as no surprise to Shen Wenlang when, during a heat-induced bout of mating syndrome, Hua Yong smashed the reinforced doors and windows to pieces, and bit his own wrists bloody.
After coming to Jianghu, every time his heat came, Hua Yong would hole up alone in a specially modified room at the top of X Hotel. When the syndrome struck, he would go mad and self-harm because he couldn’t see his destined partner—it had become routine.
That little maniac had even once injured himself so badly from all the thrashing and blood loss that his blood pressure plummeted and Shen Wenlang had to rush him to the ER.
He had even caused a scene that, in Sheng Shaoyou’s eyes, looked like some kind of “group affair.”
At the time, Shen Wenlang couldn’t understand why anyone would love another person so much that they’d hurt themselves just for being unable to get close.
He never imagined that one day, he himself would also suffer from mating syndrome.
After being discharged from the hospital, Gao Tu stayed at a temporary residence for just a week.
Once Ma Heng learned that the Alpha father of Gao Tu’s baby had come looking, he immediately moved the wheelchair-bound Gao Tu to another location.
After 14 days of pheromone-soothing treatment, Gao Tu’s pheromone disorder was brought under control. The doctor removed the suppressor from his gland. These days, although he still couldn’t fully control his pheromones, at least they no longer overflowed excessively and threatened his life.
The day Shen Wenlang came knocking, Gao Tu had just changed his inhibitor patch.
The room was inevitably filled with the strong scent of sage. Though Gao Tu retreated quickly, he was still caught red-handed by Shen Wenlang, who arrived just moments later — the lingering sage scent in the air was undeniable proof he’d been there.
But Gao Qing insisted that Gao Tu wasn’t there.
Shen Wenlang didn’t believe it, but had no other options.
On the way back, sitting in the perfectly climate-controlled business car, he still felt chilled to the bone. That night, he developed a high fever.
Calling it a fever wasn’t quite right.
His body temperature shot up, his breath came out hot and harsh, but all other vitals remained normal.
It was a sensitivity episode different from usual.
Clutching his phone, staring at his chat with Gao Tu, a violent frustration spread and filled Shen Wenlang’s chest.
He scrolled quickly through their old messages, trying to find something that might calm him.
His fingers finally stopped on a video from two or three years ago.
Shen Wenlang changed phones often and rarely bothered migrating his data — but for some reason, this one video from Gao Tu was the exception. Every time he got a new phone, he made sure to save it.
Expressionless, he hit play. Gao Tu’s calm, straight-laced voice immediately came through the speaker.
“President Shen, is it this one?”
In the video, Gao Tu stood in front of the wardrobe in the third-floor walk-in closet of Shen Wenlang’s home, holding up Shen Wenlang’s favorite set of pajamas.
The third floor of the house was Shen Wenlang’s bedroom. The walk-in closet only held loungewear, and the lighting was dim.
In the soft, muted glow, Gao Tu’s face carried a hint of confusion, making his features look unusually gentle. Behind his glasses, his gaze seemed even softer, harmless.
Like a clueless little rabbit who had wandered into the wolf king’s den without knowing the forest’s rules, staring with bright black eyes through the cold screen, meeting Shen Wenlang’s heated gaze.
Shen Wenlang no longer remembered why he’d asked Gao Tu to pick up pajamas that day — probably because of a sudden business trip.
But the sight of Gao Tu standing there, puzzled, beside his bedroom closet… it felt harmonious. Every time Shen Wenlang replayed it, he felt at ease, even pleased.
So no matter how many times he changed phones, he always saved this video.
That night, Shen Wenlang watched the clip a hundred times.
He tried to recall what he’d done to that Omega at the banquet.
Strange desire, like a chocolate dusted with sugar, melted under the heat and slid sweetly down his throat.
He felt thirsty. He wanted more.
His mind was full of vague, fragrant cravings related to Gao Tu.
He thought about the child in Gao Tu’s belly, about how Gao Tu needed his soothing pheromones, about how Gao Qing claimed Gao Tu already had a new Alpha, about how Gao Tu was deliberately avoiding him…
…
The chaotic thoughts left Shen Wenlang restless. In his huge home, with the AC cranked to sixteen degrees, he still couldn’t stand it for even a second longer. Like a slab of steak beaten loose and sizzling on a hot iron plate, he burned.
Clutching his phone, unable to bear it, he finally began desperately calling Gao Tu.
No response to voice calls. Number came up as disconnected.
Shen Wenlang sucked in a breath, gritted his teeth, and dialed Gao Ming.
“Have you been in contact with Gao Tu?”
“N-no, President Shen, no…” Gao Ming’s voice was full of ingratiating laughter.
“Thank you for saving my life, really! And for the money you gave me! I promise, if I hear anything about Gao Tu, I’ll report it to you right away! Don’t worry, once I find him, he’s yours. If he dares not to appreciate it, I’ll—”
“Shut up! Don’t you dare!” Shen Wenlang’s whole body burned hot, but his heart felt icy cold.
He felt sorry for Gao Tu, felt it was unfair. That little rabbit had been born into a den of wolves — too pitiful.
On the other end, Gao Ming quickly shut up, swore again and again that he wouldn’t hurt Gao Tu and would tell Shen Wenlang immediately if he heard anything.
Shen Wenlang didn’t believe a word of it, but there was nothing he could do.
His missing-person ads were everywhere, short of putting up flyers on Mars. Yet Gao Tu avoided him like a rabbit avoiding a wolf. Shen Wenlang tried to pull up his medical records and trace him through the hospital.
But since Gao Tu’s discharge from Jinling’s pheromone specialty hospital, he and his records had vanished into thin air.
All Shen Wenlang could glean from the old records was how bad his condition had been. The archived critical condition notices were terrifying in both thickness and language. At his most dangerous, he’d been hanging by a thread. Without an Alpha’s pheromones, his pregnancy was bound to be miserable.
“Still, he has an Alpha by his side now — a good-looking, attentive one. Their compatibility isn’t bad. That Alpha’s pheromones have some effect on him. So, President Shen, you don’t need to worry. Whether Mr. Gao decides to keep the baby or not, as long as that Alpha is around, theoretically he won’t face any extreme danger again.”
Lying on his couch, Shen Wenlang’s mind echoed with what the doctor in Jinling had said.
What did they mean “whether he keeps the baby or not”?
What did they mean “as long as that Alpha is around”?
That wasn’t just Gao Tu’s baby!
It was half his too!
Damn it! He wasn’t dead yet!
Why should another Alpha be the one to soothe his Omega and his child?!
The more he thought about it, the angrier he got, so angry he felt like he’d cough up blood and spit fire.
Extreme desire mixed with rage, bubbling like oil over flame, filling him with smoke and heat.
The urge to embrace grew stronger and stronger. He couldn’t help but think of that day, holding Gao Tu.
That little rabbit-like Omega, pressed beneath him on the lounge’s sofa bed, unable to move, his legs, hands, and lips all made soft by the Alpha’s pheromones, melting helplessly into the cushions.
Throughout the whole thing, for some reason, Gao Tu barely made a sound.
Only when Shen Wenlang was too rough did that little rabbit, forced on his stomach, let out pitiful whimpers and pleas, like a small animal bullied too much.
Shen Wenlang’s heart burned painfully with desire.
He wanted Gao Tu to come back. He wanted him close. He wanted to sniff his nape, kiss his hair. He wanted to hear Gao Tu call his name.
He wanted him to cry and call out like that night, “President Shen… President Shen…”
And then, unable to hold back anymore, scream:
“Shen Wenlang… be gentler.”
Shen Wenlang wanted Gao Tu so badly his whole body burned, his chest ached.
…
Hua Yong got the call in the middle of the night.
These days, Sheng Shaoyou’s sleep hadn’t been great, so Hua Yong, like a sensitive detector, quickly silenced the phone the moment the screen lit up.
Unfortunately, the S-class Alpha beside him still woke up, his voice hoarse: “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Hua Yong leaned over and kissed the Alpha’s temple reassuringly. “Just a spam call. Go back to sleep.”
To avoid disturbing Sheng Shaoyou, Hua Yong always shut off his phone at night. Very few people knew his backup number — if someone called it in the middle of the night, it had to be a big deal.
Even so, when he saw the caller ID, Hua Yong was still startled.
He’d never expected to get a call from that Omega.
“Uncle Ying Yi.”
Hua Yong rarely spoke to elders like this, but his handsome, pale face was unusually solemn.
“Ah Yong.”
On the other end, the caller’s voice was calm and deep, making it hard to imagine that thirty years ago, the name Ying Yi could silence crying children in P-country.
“What can I do for you?”
“Wenlang owes much to your care these years in Jianghu.”
He sounded weak. After just one sentence, he was slightly breathless and coughed softly.
Hua Yong waited quietly for him to finish coughing, then heard him continue:
“Wenlang’s run into some trouble now. It’s inconvenient for me to step in. Could you go in my place?”