Chapter Text
Hua Yong’s vulnerable periods had always felt like punishment since they began, especially with the mate-seeking syndrome that accompanied them. But this one was worse than any before.
Strangely, he hadn’t even seen it coming. In hindsight, the signs were there, but Hua Yong with his mind running overdrive trying to find ways his Mr. Sheng might forgive him, missed them entirely. It shouldn’t even be happening at all. The last one had been recently, spent in that one reckless night with his mate – a selfish indulgence that had brought relief unlike anything before. He’d already started plotting how to win his alpha’s acceptance before the next cycle came, so that maybe, just maybe, Mr. Sheng would be there when it happened again.
But everything he built fell apart with that earthquake.
He’d always known Sheng Shaoyou’s acceptance of his true nature would not come easily. Hence the deceit, the manipulation. But now that all his plans had collapsed so suddenly, there was no space to soften the truth. And as much as it was painful for Sheng Shaoyou, it was just as unbearable for Hua Yong.
That cold rejection, thrown in his face by the only person in the world he would ever chase after. The disdain, the disappointment painted across that beautiful face. The righteous fury, cutting through him in contempt. But worst of all, was the declaration that he would never forgive.
Hua Yong was not someone who felt fear. An enigma on top of the food-chain had no need for such emotion. Yet now, even with his faith that time would heal things, that one day Mr. Sheng would be his, a quiet dread still took root somewhere deep inside. Was it all truly ruined beyond repair?
The worries he would never voice aloud crawled beneath his skin, festering until his body broke under them, dragging him into a stress-triggered rut – cruel, consuming. And his permanently marked partner’s rejection only made it worse.
He locked himself away in that infamous room of his at the X Hotel again. This time, he made sure the doors were bolted tighter, the locks reinforced. There would be no one sneaking in – and no chance of him escaping. He wrapped the chains around himself inhumanly tight, almost welcoming the pain, as if the suffering might somehow make him more deserving of Mr. Sheng’s forgiveness.
Not that his body needed any help for that. It seemed determined to punish him on its own.
The rut was brutal. Unbearable heat clawed at him from the inside, as though something alive crawled beneath his skin. He scratched until blood welled, desperate to tear the sensation away, chasing relief that never came. His head throbbed with static. He thrashed violently, the agony driving him to slam his head side to side until, at one point, he nearly broke his neck. The shock of it ran down his spine and Hua Yong wondered, distantly, if this rut would actually kill him.
Even through the haze, his thoughts inevitably found their way back to Sheng Shaoyou, as they always did. Though in this state, they were hardly thoughts at all, more like fragments of instinct and emotion.
Longing. Yearning. Loneliness. Rage – at himself, for angering his alpha, for not being enough. And a foreign feeling that seemed to be–
Guilt.
It was uncomfortable as it was unfamiliar. Hua Yong never had any reason to feel guilty about anything before. Being what he was came with a certain distance from regret. Even the deception with Sheng Shaoyou could be justified as a necessity. After all, how else would Mr.Sheng ever look twice at an Enigma? And as the owner of X Holdings, he knew Mr. Sheng would have seen him as a rival to be wary of, or a possible business ally at best – never a potential lover. So hiding who he was had been the only chance.
But when he remembered those eyes – red-rimmed and tired; the distant tone; the hurt carved in the body language of someone so proud – Hua Yong felt guilt burn through him. For taking the game too far. Lying for too long. Hurting the one person who had ever made him feel seen. And now that regret was consuming him from the inside out.
He loathed his own nature. Questioned his purpose. Doubted everything that had once made him proud. He wanted to hurt. To see the pain tangible, to carve it out of himself somehow. To feel it in his body as it tore through his soul.
Usually, his rut left him too weak to do much harm, but this time, self-disgust drove him into a frenzy. His claws tore through skin until blood slicked his palms, more than was safe for someone with a blood type as rare as his. But Hua Yong didn’t care. The sting brought a strange, almost comforting satisfaction.
The thoughts kept growing louder, unbearable. They tangled into deranged images, echoes of all he feared: flashes of Sheng Shaoyou walking away, running into harm, eyes raging and then empty, voices screaming it was all his fault. Nothing would ever return to how it was. No, no, no! His chest tightened, panic seized him. He clutched at his throat, gasping as though the air itself was denying him the right to breathe.
He couldn’t love from afar as he once had – not after knowing what Sheng Shaoyou’s arms felt like around him, how his voice sounded in the mornings, how his lips curled when amused, how his citrus scent filled the room. To have known all that and lose it – it was an unbearable thought.
He desperately wanted forgiveness, but he couldn’t force Mr. Sheng either. He could try, again and again, but he might never succeed. Mr. Sheng might always hate him for this.
The realization broke something.
Tears came before he realized it. He had endured pain before, endless kinds of it, without ever once crying. Never found anything worth the tears. His body had long learned what his mind believed – that crying changed nothing. It was pointless and only made one appear weaker. Even faking tears for Mr. Sheng had been difficult. But after knowing his love – seeing how intensely Sheng Shaoyou felt things, how he saw Hua Yong as more than a convenient ally or a freak of nature, how he even shed tears for his sake – it started to undo his beliefs. Now for the first time, there was someone worth crying for.
And though Mr. Sheng wasn’t there to see it, the tears fell anyway. They fell for the small, foolish hope that maybe he would come, maybe he would see, maybe he would care. That Sheng Shaoyou might touch his face, wipe them away, finally see the truth of his feelings - the depth of his love and the despair - and he might be granted forgiveness.
There was no sense of time, Hua Yong felt trapped in this endless bitter loop. It could’ve been days, weeks, months. Without Mr. Sheng, it was all meaningless.
Eventually, his strength gave out. His limbs refused to move, every muscle burned. His breathing came in shallow bursts, lightheadedness swimming through him from dehydration and exhaustion. The tears dried on his cheeks, then started again in quiet, uneven streaks.
There was silence, heavy and unkind, until somewhere in it he thought he heard something. A disturbance, and then a distinct sound.
His name – spoken by a beloved voice.
He forced his heavy eyelids open. His vision swam but through the blur, and he saw that familiar face. Beautiful and fierce, as always.
“Mr. Sheng…” he whispered, barely audible. “It hurts so much. Will you hold me?”
The image seemed to hesitate, expression twisted with something Hua Yong couldn’t name. Then arms – trembling yet strong – gently pulled him close. Hua Yong’s breath hitched. The touch, the scent, the comfort – felt so real. This merciful warmth was overwhelming.
He sobbed once, softly – in relief, disbelief, longing. And as the soothing orange-rum pheromones wrapped around him, Hua Yong let his eyes close.