The first rays of morning crept softly into the room, casting a pale wash of light across the floorboards. Hua Ren stirred, his lashes fluttering as he woke to an unfamiliar stillness. A low groan escaped his lips as he tried to sit up, only to pause halfway when a wave of dizziness rolled over him. His limbs felt like lead—sore, sluggish, and faintly trembling. He pressed a hand to his temple and sat there, hunched and dazed, until his vision steadied.
Something didn’t feel right. Why was he so dizzy? What happened?
A persistent ache pulsed through his body, most intensely in his hips and lower back, as if he’d been stretched and used for hours—days, even. His skin prickled with sensitivity, and when he shifted slightly, a dull, stinging pressure throbbed at the base of his spine.
“What happened to me...?” He murmured, trying to recall the night before, but everything was muddled—flashes of heat, shadows, a golden gaze, hands on his body, a voice whispering his name.
He drew in a breath, intending to stand up but it caught in his throat when he felt a sharp, burning tingle on the side of his neck. His hand flew up instinctively, fingertips brushing over swollen skin, tender and hot. He hissed, pulling away at the sudden pain.
“What the—?” he whispered, voice hoarse.
His heart began to pound, anxiety curling cold in his chest. Why did his body ache ? Why couldn’t he remember? And what was this pain—this strange, stinging pressure near his glands?
A sudden unease gripped Hua Ren’s chest as he instantly swung his legs off the bed and stood up, wobbling slightly. The soreness in his muscles intensifying with every movement.
Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong.
His eyes flicked to the small washbasin perched on the nearby table and he stumbled over, ignoring the protests of his aching body. He leaned over it, hands bracing the sides as he peered into the water’s still surface.
And what he saw made his blood run cold.
Right over his gland.
A deep crescent, red and swollen around the edges. There was also a faint bite mark, like the skin there had been punctured.
His heart skipped a beat and his mouth went dry. He raised trembling fingers to the mark again and hissed in pain. The pain confirmed it. That it wasn’t a dream. He wasn’t hallucinating either. It was a bond mark. One that could be done only by one’s mate.
And just like that, everything came rushing back.
The searing heat, the drugged haze. Sheng Fei’s voice—rough, tender and commanding. The feel of his calloused hands on his skin. The fervent kisses that drove him wild with lust. The beautiful lake. The twinkling stars. The way they’d touched and connected, over and over again. The burning ache of need, and the desperate words he had whispered:
‘Please, Alpha... mark me.’
“No!” The bowl slipped from his grasp and shattered against the floor, porcelain shards scattering like the fragments of his composure. His legs gave out and he sank to his knees, one hand pressed to his neck, the other gripping the edge of the table as his breath hitched.
“There he is! That’s the man!” a young boy whispered excitedly to the fruit stall owner, eyes wide as he pointed discreetly.
The fruit seller, a burly man with a cloth tied around his forehead, didn’t look up from the oranges he was washing in a basin of cool water. “You sure?” he asked, glancing sideways.
“Yes!” the boy hissed, nearly bouncing in place. “He’s the one who buys two of everything! Two!”
The seller’s brows lifted slightly. That was unusual. Their village was an extremely remote place. It was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone, word spread fast and business was very slow. Who was this man buying two of everything?
His gaze followed the direction the boy pointed—just in time to see a few neighbouring stall owners enthusiastically waving a tall man over. The man looked somewhat ordinary, with dark eyes, a thin mustache and plain black robes. He was carrying many bags filled with only the heavens knew what.
The man certainly didn’t seem rich but what the boy said must be true since many sellers were making their way to him or waving him over. Seeing this, the fruit seller hastily dumped the oranges back into the basin, wiped his hands on his apron, and rushed into the street.
Sheng Fei was just passing by in disguise as usual, arms laden with bags brimming with food. The bags were heavy, but he carried them as effortlessly as if they weighed nothing. He was walking fast for he wanted to get back to his wifey as soon as possible. He wanted to make sure breakfast and clean clothes were ready before Hua Ren woke up.
“Hello, sir!” a fruit vendor called out all of a sudden, falling into step beside him. “Would you like some fruit? We’ve got fresh mangoes, sweet guavas, juicy watermelons—all straight from the capital!”
Sheng Fei just shook his head. He already bought too much. Though they hadn’t eaten for days, he wasn’t sure they could eat all that he bought.
The vendor’s grin didn’t falter. “Come on, sir, don’t be like that. If not for you, then for the beauty you have waiting at home.”
Sheng Fei’s eyes flicked sideways, curious. He did have a beauty at home. The most beautiful creature he had ever set his eyes on in fact. He wondered, would Hua Ren like some fruit along with breakfast?
The man leaned in a little and lowered his voice, smirking. “If I may recommend something... the pineapples. They do wonders in the bedroom.”
Sheng Fei paused mid-step, turning to look at the man. “...Pineapples?”
The vendor nodded sagely, as if revealing an ancient secret. “Pineappled enhance the... experience, if you catch my drift.” He said, wiggling his brows in a suggestive manner.
Sheng Fei stared at him for a moment, then he recalled the way Hua Ren kept calling out his name, begging him to go faster. Would pineapples make Hua Ren beg even more?
He then turned fully. “Give me all your pineapples.”
The fruit vendor blinked, stunned. “All... all of them?”
“Yes,” Sheng Fei said firmly. “Every last one.”
Overjoyed, the seller barked out an order to the boy to began packing them up, placing the pineapples carefully into a large sack.
“I’ll get him to help carry it—” the vendor started.
“No,” Sheng Fei cut in, lifting the heavy bag over his shoulder with one hand like it weighed nothing. “I’ll carry it.”
He offered the man a nod and a few coins—more than enough—and continued on his way, picturing Hua Ren. Pale white hair and flushed cheeks, legs spread open on the bed, inviting him to come in.
Sheng Fei groaned and immediately quickened his pace.