The headache was a rhythmic thumping, a physical manifestation of two lives colliding. Lin Cheng sat on the edge of the silk-draped bed, his hands—large, steady, and calloused from holding swords and wine jars—trembling slightly.
He wasn't gasping for air. For the first time in twenty-three years, his lungs expanded fully, pulling in the scent of expensive sandalwood and something sharper, more primal.
Pheromones.
In his old life, he was a ghost. Here, he was an S-Class Alpha. He could feel the raw power coiled in his muscles like a spring. He stood up, crossing to the polished bronze mirror. The man staring back was a masterpiece of wasted potential: sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and eyes the color of molten amber. But the eyes were bloodshot, and the skin was sallow from nights spent in the gutters of the capital.
"Young Master Cheng? Please... the Minister is losing his patience. You must come for breakfast."
The voice outside the door was small, shaking with a fear that made Lin Cheng's stomach churn. That was the voice of a servant who had likely been beaten by the "original" Lin Cheng more times than he could count.
"Tell my father I will be there shortly," Lin Cheng said.
His voice was a shock. It wasn't the raspy, weak whisper of a dying man. It was a deep, resonant baritone that commanded the very air in the room.
The servant gasped behind the door, followed by the frantic scuffling of feet. He was clearly terrified by the lack of a thrown bottle.
Lin Cheng didn't head for the dining hall immediately. His mind was racing, sorting through the "data" of this world. The wedding had been two days ago. The "Incident"—the drugged trap that ruined his reputation—was still fresh news in the Imperial City. And Lu Hang...
Lu Hang.
The memory hit him like a physical blow. A delicate boy with hair like moonlight, weeping on the floor while the "scum" Lin Cheng laughed and called him a "lowly stall-boy."
Lin Cheng's new, powerful heart clenched with a protective fury. "I was given this heart to fix this," he whispered to his reflection. "And I'm starting now."
He strode out of the master suite, his heavy boots echoing with a new purpose. He bypassed the main hall and headed toward the cold, shadowed side-wing of the manor. This was where the "scum" had banished his new bride, refusing to let a "peasant" sleep in the main chambers.
He pushed open the door to the side-room.
The room was freezing. There was no charcoal for the heater, no silk on the bed. In the corner, sitting on a hard wooden stool, was a small, trembling figure.
Lu Hang was even more beautiful than the book described. His silver-blue hair fell over his face in soft waves, and his violet eyes were wide with a terror that broke Lin Cheng's soul. He was wearing a thin, faded linen robe, his shoulders hunched as if expecting a strike.
"M-Master Cheng..." Lu Hang's voice was a broken thread. He scrambled off the stool, falling to his knees and pressing his forehead to the cold floor. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to fall asleep... Please don't take the money... I need it for Grandma's lungs..."
Lin Cheng stood frozen. The sheer weight of the boy's fear was suffocating. This was a boy who had sold himself into a nightmare to save his only family, and he was being treated like a dog.
Lin Cheng took a step forward. Lu Hang flinched so violently his head hit the floor with a dull thud.
"Stop," Lin Cheng commanded, his voice thick with emotion.
He reached down, his large, warm hand sliding under Lu Hang's arm to lift him up. Lu Hang shivered, his entire body shaking as if he were caught in a blizzard.
"Don't... please... I'll work harder," Lu Hang sobbed, his eyes squeezed shut.
"Look at me, Lu Hang," Lin Cheng said softly.
Slowly, the Omega opened his eyes. He expected to see the glazed, drunken madness of the man who had tormented him. Instead, he saw a fire—a deep, protective, and intensely focused amber glow.
Lin Cheng didn't pull away. He reached up, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear from Lu Hang's pale cheek. The skin was cold—too cold.
"From this moment on," Lin Cheng said, his Alpha pheromones—the scent of Dark Cedar and Rain—beginning to wrap around the boy like a heavy blanket. "No one touches you. No one speaks down to you. And you will never, ever sleep in this cold room again."
Lu Hang stared at him, his mouth parted in shock. He felt the heat radiating from Lin Cheng's body, a heat he had only ever known as a weapon. But now... it felt like a shield.
"Master Cheng...?"
"Call me by my name," Lin Cheng whispered, his grip on Lu Hang's waist tightening just a fraction—not to hurt, but to possess. "And get your things. You're moving into the master suite. With me."