[Bam—!]

[Lin Zhu slammed the door and left.]

[…Yan Ruojun lay dazed on the cold tiled floor. This proud, arrogant Omega looked utterly disheveled now. One could even say… pitiful.]

[His hands were tied behind his back with a necktie. His shirt collar hung open, exposing the back of his neck, which was covered in bite marks. Those marks were deep and vicious, especially over the gland, which was swollen badly and even bleeding. It was obvious just how rough and frenzied the person who had marked him had been…]

[Marrying Lin Zhu was the gravest mistake of his life. Yan Ruojun thought this to himself.]

[And all the expectation, dependence, fluttering feelings, repression, and reluctance that had arisen during that time… were only illusions brought on by their 100% pheromone compatibility.]

[Its name had never been “love.” People had simply imposed that absurd interpretation upon it.]

[So Yan Ruojun spent an hour undoing the necktie binding him, forcing himself through trembling, bracing against the wall as he walked out of the bathroom. From behind the bedroom door he retrieved the phone whose screen had been cracked by his husband, and dialed a familiar number.]

[“President Yan, it’s not yet time for your monthly follow-up. Has something gone wrong with your gland again?” The person on the other end sounded very respectful.]

[Yan Ruojun gave a strange little laugh, like a beautifully crafted shell of a person with no soul left inside—or rather, one that had been shattered by someone who did not treasure it in the slightest.]

[He parted his lips and said, “…Doctor Xu, I’m fine. I just want to make an appointment for two surgeries.”]

[The line went very quiet.]

[Yan Ruojun continued, “One gland-removal surgery, and one early-term Omega abortion. The sooner they can be scheduled, the better. Is that possible?”]

[After hanging up, he pulled a pregnancy test report from beneath the pillow, tore it to pieces, threw it into the trash, then changed clothes and walked out without looking back.]

[As though he were walking out of a long nightmare.]

[…]

[Much, much later.]

[At a banquet, Yan Ruojun saw Lin Zhu again.]

[He looked utterly down-and-out, so slovenly he resembled a beggar. When the security guards at the entrance threw him out, the scene was almost embarrassing to watch.]

[A young Alpha beside him who had come over to chat held up his wineglass and cursed in disgust, “Who the hell is that? He’s ruining the whole mood.”]

[Yan Ruojun merely smiled indifferently, tossed out a single sentence, ignored the Alpha’s shocked expression, and turned to leave.]

[“—My ex-husband,” he said.]

[That was the last time Yan Ruojun ever saw Lin Zhu.]

—

Silence. Deathly silence.

Inside the vast room, the stillness was so oppressive it seemed almost tangible, wrapping itself around the boy sitting at the edge of the bed and giving him a suffocating feeling that was hard to describe.

The Ex-Husband Roleplaying System—abbreviated simply as “System”—waited for a long while before finally unable to help asking:

“Uh, well… Host, that’s all of the original novel’s scenes involving the ‘ex-husband character’! Can you start the mission now?”

—Lin Zhu, a.k.a. the actor assigned to play the scumbag ex-husband in Hormonal Illusion, slowly lifted his head. The light had completely vanished from his eyes.

“System, just let me die instead…”

Expressionless, Lin Zhu shut off the original-novel light screen in his head, which had been filled with vulgar and filthy content, in an attempt to reclaim a little peace and quiet.

Also, he dearly wished he could pay a fortune for a pair of eyes that had never read this novel before.

His were contaminated now.

In just half an hour, the mask of pain had already been permanently welded onto Lin Zhu’s world-weary cool-guy face.

He had never imagined that something as simple as reading a novel could produce such extreme mental pollution.

Raising a hand, Lin Zhu combed back his newly dyed rebellious blond hair. He truly could not suppress the urge to vent, and he started firing off complaints one after another:

“When you bound yourself to me, you only said I had to play a missing side character from a novel. You never told me this side character’s setup would be this trashy! Seriously!”

He pulled the light screen back up and pointed at several outrageous scenes from the novel, speechless.

“Verbal humiliation, forced marking, nearly bullying someone into miscarriage, all-around PUA from body to mind… what kind of third-rate scumbag behavior is this? I can’t do it!”

And beyond that, the ABO setting itself—with its trendy gender structure—was just too much for Lin Zhu, an ordinary male high school graduate who had only just finished the college entrance exams.

After thinking it over for a moment, Lin Zhu sighed regretfully.

“If you’d shown me the script earlier, I wouldn’t have bound myself to you.”

The System defended itself weakly and tried to play the emotional card.

“Host… it was this system that bound itself to your soul in time when you were hit by that car, then sent you across dimensions. That’s the only reason you didn’t die on the spot.”

Seeing Lin Zhu’s expression ease up by one or two degrees, the System struck while the iron was hot and encouraged him:

“Besides, this system is an officially appointed plot recorder from headquarters. Considering your acting skills, I’ll do my best within the allowed limits to help you complete the performance!”

Lin Zhu began to hesitate. “For example?”

The System hurried to explain.

“Roleplaying has to satisfy the three elements of character, setting, and plot. If the process involves extreme scenes the host can’t accept, the system has a certain degree of fault-tolerance authority…”

As it spoke, its voice grew smaller and smaller, before it suddenly raised its volume again to emphasize:

“Although there’s some room for flexibility in the character’s actions, the key lines absolutely must match the original novel!”

“Once you complete this roleplaying mission,” the System said in a coaxing tone, “I’ll send you back to your original world and provide resurrection services, guaranteed with no aftereffects whatsoever.”

After saying that, it even set off a tiny firework for Lin Zhu and clapped enthusiastically a few times as encouragement.

Lin Zhu fell silent and didn’t speak for a long while.

The System waited, then asked again, “Host, do you have any other questions? This system will answer them proactively!”

Rubbing his chin, Lin Zhu mused, “Nothing much… I just suddenly feel like maybe you’d be more suited than I am to playing a scumbag ex-husband.”

System: “…”

The System choked and decided to change the subject.

“Host, tonight is the time of your first meeting with the protagonist Yan Ruojun in the original novel. The location is Xiangshan Clubhouse, and the plot is—”

Lin Zhu narrowed his eyes and interrupted dryly, “Alright, I know this part. I literally just read it.”

Quietly, he licked one of his sharp canine teeth.

…This level should be manageable, right?

—

Meanwhile.

At Beidu Huanshan Manor, inside the first-floor main hall.

Three generations of the Yan family had rarely gathered together like this, and all the elders present kept sneaking glances toward the young man seated on the single sofa.

The man was very handsome—black hair, dark eyes, dressed in a light-colored suit. His entire bearing was elegant and refined, like an ink-wash painting.

He sat with perfect posture, his presence naturally distinguished. His rather cool expression added a hint of distance, making people instinctively think of four words—

A flower on a high peak.

—Yan Ruojun, the exceptionally high-grade Omega passed down through three generations of the Yan family, the sole heir to the Yan clan, and an unattainable existence for countless marriageable Alphas.

Putting family background aside, there was another reason:

When Yan Ruojun was sixteen, he had already been engaged to Lin Xiujie, the eldest young master of the Lin family, a family that had long been close family friends. They were simply waiting for the right time in the future to turn the arrangement into a formal marriage.

The two were a perfect social match, both blessed with outstanding looks, and in recent years their families’ increasingly close corporate collaborations had often put them in the same public frame. Quite a number of CP fans had gathered online to ship the engaged pair.

What outsiders did not know was that the engagement between Yan Ruojun and the Lin family’s eldest son had, in truth, long existed in name only.

…Because he was an Omega with a latent gland defect.

At eighteen.

Yan Ruojun underwent his second differentiation, as expected.

At that time, an Omega’s hormones would spike. After differentiation ended, sex-characteristic organs such as the reproductive cavity would be matured by the process, making the body more suited to pregnancy.

That was simply how Omegas were.

As such, hospitals had already developed very mature care services for second differentiation.

But an accident still occurred.

The hospital discovered that Yan Ruojun’s hormone changes were extremely abnormal. His fever would not come down, and several of his organs showed faint signs of premature decline.

This was clearly not a normal reaction for an adult Omega undergoing second differentiation.

Yan Ruojun lay in the ICU for three days before they managed to pull him back. They ran a mountain of tests and in the end diagnosed him with an extremely rare genetic disease.

Its scientific name was “NH0047 Sequence Deficiency Syndrome.”

Although it had appeared only two or three times in all of medical history, it had a highly famous common name—

“True Love Syndrome.”

The specific symptoms of this illness were as follows: a hidden gland defect, under which the patient could only accept pheromone marking from someone with a compatibility above 95%. Otherwise, hormonal instability would be triggered, worsening organ failure.

Testing showed that his pheromone compatibility with the Lin family’s eldest son was only 60%—merely the socially accepted passing line.

For Yan Ruojun, it was nowhere near enough.

As society developed and medical standards advanced, Alpha and Omega couples in modern times no longer paid too much attention to their pheromone compatibility.

But Yan Ruojun had suddenly lost that freedom.

Because of the close cooperation between the Yan and Lin companies, his engagement with Lin Xiujie was not canceled immediately. Instead, they reached a private agreement: when necessary, the two sides would publicly announce separate marriages in the future so as to avoid turbulence in the stock market.

And what “when necessary” meant was:

When an Alpha with a compatibility above 95% with Yan Ruojun appeared.

This was extremely difficult.

After all, in nearly a hundred years of history, the highest AO pheromone compatibility ever recorded between a couple had only been 93%, and that alone had already been called a miracle.

Yet, in Yan Ruojun’s twenty-eighth year—when he had already given up hope—that Alpha finally appeared.

And with Yan Ruojun, he had a pheromone compatibility as high as 100%.

The hospital had exclaimed on the phone like this at the time:

“It’s simply… a miracle among miracles!”

Yes. An unprecedented miracle.

But unfortunately, the miracle’s name was “Lin Zhu.”

Lin Zhu had only turned eighteen last week. He completed his second differentiation at Beidu First Hospital, which was funded by the Yan family, and with full awareness he registered his pheromone sample there.

The hospital report provided only the most basic information: name, date of birth, and mobile phone number. No other personal details were visible.

Even so, the Yan family recognized him immediately.

The Lin family’s disgraceful illegitimate son.
Lin Xiujie’s half-brother.
A notorious second-generation wastrel whose reputation had long been dragged through the mud…

Setting aside the messy family relationships, how could someone with such a terrible track record possibly be a good match?

Pei Shurong looked troubled, but she still took the initiative to break the silence. Looking up at her son, who remained as calm and composed as usual, she said:

“Ruojun, just meet Lin Zhu once.”

The tense atmosphere that had hung in the hall for so long was broken by that sentence.

The others quickly followed, urging him too:

“Yes, exactly. It wasn’t easy to find a solution that doesn’t damage your body… Doctor Xu said the same thing.”

Seeing that Yan Ruojun’s expression remained completely unmoved, the elders’ tone became increasingly anxious.

“Junjun, otherwise you’ll still have to keep getting monthly injections of synthetic gene suppressants. The doctors say your dosage is already getting dangerous. Not only is it suffering, it’ll shorten your lifespan too!”

Pei Shurong had worried about her son’s health for years. When faced with the sudden appearance of that infamous young Alpha, joy ultimately outweighed grief, and her eyes reddened.

She remembered how ever since Yan Ruojun’s second differentiation, he would from time to time mention wanting a younger brother or sister…

A mother’s tears slipped down instantly.

So she leaned closer, gently held Yan Ruojun’s hand, and said, “If you really can’t get along with Lin Zhu, then we’ll discuss a marriage alliance with him. After marriage, you can each live your own life and just meet regularly…”

It was a tactful way of saying they would use benefits to win Lin Zhu over, so he would willingly become the family’s stable source of pheromones for their son.

Yan Ruojun had been raised from childhood as an heir. He had none of the ordinary Omegas’ shy awkwardness around Alpha-Omega matters, and naturally his expression didn’t change at all.

Listening to the alternating persuasion from his parents and grandparents, he finally gave in when faced with Pei Shurong’s tears.

Under his family’s urging and expectant stares, Yan Ruojun entered an unfamiliar number into his phone’s call screen.

The ringtone sounded only two or three times before someone picked up.

“…Hello?”

A slightly hoarse voice came from the other end, but the voice itself was very young. One could easily tell the speaker was not old.

Yan Ruojun thought: He really is young.

He had only turned eighteen last week, and yet all kinds of messy scandalous rumors were already flying everywhere around him.

Not long ago, he had even heard Lin Xiujie casually mention that this person seemed to be in the middle of a heated affair with some internet streamer, enough to trend online for a time.

—Just meet him once, then leave.

At this very moment, that was what Yan Ruojun was thinking.