The early morning sunlight in Haicheng always possessed a crystalline brightness, as if washed clean by the sea.
As the first rays of dawn pierced through the layered white sheer curtains of the seaside villa, spilling gently onto the deep blue silk pajamas scattered across the carpet, Lin, the chief steward of the Life Sciences Institute, stood outside the master bedroom door holding a new, high-definition blocker patch delivered via express courier. He raised his hand, trembling slightly.
"Knock, knock—"
"Professor Shen... Student Huo? The wedding execution team from Haicheng and the stylists are waiting in the downstairs lounge area. Also, the Huo Corporation's special assistant just called to urge us; the media broadcast vans have already taken their positions around the red carpet. Would you... be ready now?"
Lin's voice came through the heavy solid wood door, permeated with the cautiousness of a dedicated employee.
However, the response he received was a heart-pounding, crimson-inducing silence.
In the master bedroom, the snow-white silk quilt on the massive bed was a chaotic mess. The concentration of fir and orange pheromones in the air had reached a level so shockingly high it could only be described as "viscous." If any outsider had pushed the door open at that moment, they likely would have been unable to stand upright under the crushing, legally possessive mental pressure left behind by a top-tier Alpha's frantic rut.
Shen Qingzhou was sinking wearily into the soft pillows, his elegant profile flushed with an alluring, lingering heat that hadn't yet faded.
The reckless folly on the balcony last night had inevitably spread from the cool rattan chair all the way back to this bed. The predatory sense of an Alpha completely losing control during his rut left Professor Shen, who could normally stand in a lab for ten hours without changing expression, feeling sore in every muscle—to the point where even moving a finger felt like an ordeal.
Worst of all, his voice was utterly shot.
"...Huo Xingran."
Shen Qingzhou reached a fair arm out from the covers, shamefully attempting to pull the thin blanket over to cover the dense, unsightly ring of red marks circling his neck. But as he spoke, his voice—exceedingly hoarse and tinged with a sense of powerlessness—lacked even a shred of its usual professional authority.
"I'm here, Professor!"
The "large golden retriever" sprawled at the foot of the bed sprang up almost instantly.
Although Huo Xingran had exhausted himself all night, this morning he was as energetic as a fully charged solar panel. He was shirtless, his toned, muscular torso on display, his dazzling golden hair a messy disaster in the morning light, yet it did nothing to diminish his excessively handsome face. Currently, he was rubbing his slightly sore lower back from last night's intensity, grinning with a mouthful of white teeth like a silly fox that had finally stolen a fish and been officially granted a name by its master.
"Professor, why is your voice so hoarse? Did you catch a cold from the sea breeze last night? Here, let me get you some warm water."
Huo Xingran shamelessly crowded over, his tall frame pressing firmly against Shen Qingzhou's side. His large hand rubbed against Shen Qingzhou's soft black hair in a fawning manner, and he took the opportunity to try and steal a kiss from the professor's earlobe, which was turning red enough to bleed.
"Get away from me."
Shen Qingzhou turned his head away with effort. His glasses were lost in some corner, forcing him to squint his mist-covered phoenix eyes. He looked at the wolf before him—full and satisfied, his invisible tail wagging frantically—and took a deep breath, using his remaining sliver of reason and a cold glare to stab at him:
"Put on some clothes, and have Lin take the stylists to the side parlor. Also... withdraw the mental power you leaked everywhere when you lost control during your rut last night—immediately and completely."
Huo Xingran felt invigorated by his professor's non-lethal icy glare. He rubbed his nose, just about to shout his agreement, when his eyes fell on the seven-figure pure white bespoke groom's suit, meticulously protected by a dust cover on the nightstand. He froze mid-motion.
"It's... it's over, Professor."
Huo Xingran grabbed his brilliant golden hair, a flash of guilty desperation crossing his puppy eyes.
Shen Qingzhou frowned, following his gaze.
The silk suit that was meant to shine on the red carpet today had a bizarre, faint caramel-colored pattern on the inside, right where the brand logo should have been. It was clear to the eyes of a top-tier Omega: a trace of a "highly private and exclusive" imprint left by Huo Xingran's overbearing, top-tier Alpha mental power during his most frantic moment last night, when he had subconsciously and forcefully left his mark in the fabric fibers to prevent Shen Qingzhou from escaping his embrace.
In the secular world, this mark had a very hardcore name: a Mental Brand.
It could not be cleaned by any modern biochemical technology unless Huo Xingran personally used mental power of equal purity to unravel it bit by bit. But now, there was less than two hours before the red carpet entrance.
"Student Huo."
Shen Qingzhou closed his eyes, feeling a headache brewing; a vein on his temple throbbed uncontrollably. He gritted his teeth and delivered the final verdict, word by word: "If the media reporters on the red carpet see even a hint of this brand... all your research funding for the second half of the year will be deducted."
Huo Xingran gasped, scrambling to grab the suit, frantically trying to "destroy the evidence" on the spot with his own mental power.
Two hours later.
On the Haicheng coastline, a grand outdoor red carpet, constructed of countless fir branches and fresh citrus, kicked off amidst the flashes of the entire city's media.
The perimeter of the red carpet was packed tight with bodyguards and Huo Corporation security personnel. Top reporters from the finance, tech, and entertainment sectors had their cameras aimed right at the edge of the carpet.
As the low-key, luxurious black Rolls-Royce came to a steady stop and the door opened, Shen Qingzhou, in his pure white bespoke suit, was the first to step out.
He wasn't wearing his usual, imposing gold-rimmed glasses today. His black hair was groomed to perfection. Although his expression retained its usual cold, unreachable aloofness, a keen observer might notice that his gait today seemed slower, and slightly stiffer, than his usual pace on the lecture podium.
Huo Xingran, who stepped out next, was sharp in his suit, his golden hair dazzling, his handsome face filled with undeniable flamboyance and happiness.
The moment the two stepped onto the carpet side-by-side, the shutter sounds across the site erupted like a torrential downpour. However, just as they reached the center of the carpet, facing the main camera lenses of the major media outlets, the sea breeze abruptly whipped up a massive gust.
The fierce coastal wind, carrying layers of heat, lifted the hem of Shen Qingzhou's pure white suit without warning.
In that flash of a second, on the inside of that extremely expensive suit, the caramel-colored Alpha Brand—which Huo Xingran had been trying his best to cover with mental power—was exposed entirely under the macro lenses of high-definition cameras that could capture even the dust!
Even more fatal was that as the suit hem flipped, the scent of scorching orange candy—which had been sealed tightly by high-tier blocker patches—was pushed by the sea breeze and exploded across the entire media zone like a bomb.
"My God... is that a mark?!"
"That is definitely not a pattern from the clothing! That is... a mental brand of absolute possession left by a top-tier Alpha during his rut!"
"Holy mother! What on earth happened in that seaside villa last night?! Why does this pheromone scent... why is it so heart-stoppingly provocative!"
The wedding venue, which had been extremely solemn and filled with top-tier academics and business moguls, fell into a deathly silence for a moment due to this unexpected "public accident," followed immediately by collective screaming and frenzied commotion.
The shutter sounds in the media zone practically drowned out the sound of the waves, and telephoto lenses locked onto the slightly unnatural opening of Shen Qingzhou's collar and the glaring brand mark on the inside.
Standing in the center of the red carpet, Shen Qingzhou's face went cold at a speed visible to the naked eye.