Chapter Text
Chapter 1: The Architect of Shadows
The corridors of HECI Hospital were paved with the silence of the dying and the frantic prayers of those left behind. For Hua Yong, it was a place of ghosts—both the ones he visited and the one he carried within himself.
At twenty-three, Hua Yong moved through the world like a ghost himself. Dressed in a cream-colored knit sweater and simple trousers, he looked every bit the delicate, fresh graduate. His beauty was a rare, ethereal thing that felt out of place among the sterile smell of antiseptics.
It was a face that had been his curse since childhood—a face so beautiful it sparked a murderous envy in his half-siblings, inciting them to treat him like a doll they could break.
He was there to visit Gao Tu’s sister, a quiet act of kindness for the only person who treated him with a semblance of humanity. But as he turned the corner near the oncology wing, the air changed. The atmosphere grew heavy, saturated with the scent of an S-Class Alpha in distress.
Hua Yong’s heart, usually a cold and disciplined organ, gave a violent shudder. He knew that scent. He had memorized it from a distance for fifteen years. He had tracked it through news reports, through the edges of crowded boardrooms where he watched from the back, and through the thousands of secret sketches he’d drawn in the middle of the night.
Sheng Shaoyou.
Then, it happened. A collision.
Hua Yong bumped into a solid chest, the impact jarring his senses. He looked up, and for the first time in over a decade, the distance between them was zero.
Sheng Shaoyou stood before him, the sole heir of Shengfeng Biotech, looking ravaged by his father’s worsening terminal gland cancer and the drama Sheng Shaoqing had created in front of the VIP room because the doctors forbade visitors. His eyes were bloodshot, his pride flickering like a candle in a storm. But when Shaoyou’s gaze landed on Hua Yong, everything else—the hospital, the cancer, the biotech empire—seemed to vanish.
Shaoyou froze. He looked at Hua Yong with a terrifying, piercing intensity. He saw the moles—the one at the corner of the eye that looked like a permanent tear, and the one on the neck that beckoned to be touched. He saw a haunting familiarity he couldn't quite name. Shaoyou was too stunned to speak; he simply stared.
Hua Yong felt his cold, distant facade shatter. His Orchid scent flared despite the suppressants. For a moment, he wasn't the powerful Head of X-Holdings or the world’s most dangerous Enigma; he was just a boy whose eyes stung with too much pain and restraint.
He couldn't cry. His biology as an Enigma denied him that release, but the pain in his chest was excruciating—a physical ache that had started when he was eight and Shaoyou had stepped between him and his bullies without even knowing his name.
"I... I'm sorry," Hua Yong whispered, his voice trembling with a devotion that felt like a sin.
Shaoyou didn't speak. Hua Yong was finally being seen. Shaoyou looked like a man who had found his North Star after being lost at sea for fifteen years.
Uncertainty flared in Hua Yong’s mind. He sees me? He sees the original me? Panic joined the yearning. He couldn't let Shaoyou see the truth. He couldn't let this proud Alpha know that the person he was looking at held the power to make him submit. Hua Yong despised himself for being too powerful, yet that power was the only thing that helped him protect his beloved.
After a while, Shaoyou collected himself into the proud, arrogant Alpha he was known to be. He asked with confusion, "Do I know you?"
"N... No," Hua Yong said, the lie tasting like ash. "You have the wrong person."
He stepped around Shaoyou and walked away, his heart feeling as though it were being pulled out of his ribcage by an invisible thread.
The Boy in the Cold Garden
As Hua Yong walked toward the exit, his mind retreated to the silence of his childhood. He had been born an illegitimate "mistake," a child with a face too beautiful for a world that only valued strength. His mother was a memory he couldn't quite reach, leaving him alone in the sprawling, cold Hua estate. His siblings, Alphas of B and C rank, saw his beauty and intellect as a threat. They only saw an Omega-like fragility, never suspecting he was an Enigma.
He remembered the days they would corner him in the garden, their voices sharp with a jealousy they didn't understand. They would push him into the thorns, laughing when his skin tore, calling him a "useless ornament."
The Blueprint of Devotion: The P-Country Banquet
The memory always smelled of orange blossoms and aged rum—the scent of the first time Hua Yong felt safe.
It was during a grand business banquet in P-Country. For eight-year-old Hua Yong, the event was merely a larger cage. He had slipped away from the stifling ballroom, his small frame hidden in a simple but elegant suit. He was feeling a strange, heavy restlessness in his bones; he hadn't differentiated yet, but his body was humming with a secret power that made him feel feverish.
Five boys—older Betas and Alphas—had followed him. "Look at him," the eldest hissed, shoving Hua Yong toward a stone bench. "Not even a scent yet, and he already acts like he’s better than us. Maybe we should see if you cry like an Omega too."
Hua Yong hit the ground, his palms scraping against the gravel. He didn't cry. He never did. He just looked at them with cold eyes, waiting for the blows to start.
"Hey! Get away from him!"
The voice was a thunderclap. Shaoyou, a teenager who had already presented as an S-Class Alpha, stepped out from the shadow of an oak tree. He commanded the space so completely that the bullies scrambled back.
"And you're five against one," Shaoyou countered, his eyes flashing. "Go. Before I lose my patience."
As they vanished, Shaoyou knelt in the dirt. He looked at Hua Yong and felt a jolt of inexplicable recognition. To Shaoyou, this eight-year-old was the most beautiful being on earth.
"Are you alright?" Shaoyou asked softly. "Are you... are you an Omega?"
"I... I haven't differentiated yet," Hua Yong whispered.
Shaoyou smiled—a sincere, kind smile. "Come here," he said, reaching out a hand. As Hua Yong approached, Shaoyou released his pheromones to comfort him. The air flooded with the scent of Orange Rum.
Hua Yong gasped. It wrapped around him like a warm silk blanket, cooling his fever. "Better?" Shaoyou asked. Hua Yong nodded, unable to speak. In that moment, he decided he wanted to belong to this scent forever.
A Bittersweet Parting
A desperate, childish hope flared in Hua Yong’s chest. “Will I... see you again?” he asked, pulling out a small piece of paper. “Can I have your phone number? So I can thank you properly?”
Shaoyou looked down at the paper. His kindness was real, but he was a Sheng. Without a word, he took the pencil and drew a large, bold 'X' across the page.
“No need,” Shaoyou said, his voice returning to a cool, detached tone. “I didn't do it for a thank you. Besides, little one, we live in different worlds. It’s better this way.”
As he walked away, his pocket watch was left behind in the grass. Hua Yong picked up the heavy, silver-and-gold watch engraved with the Sheng family crest. He pressed it to his chest.
“Different worlds,” he whispered.
He didn't return it. Instead, he tucked the 'X' and the watch deep into his pocket. For the next fifteen years, that 'X' would become the logo of his secret empire, X-Holdings, and the watch would become his heartbeat.
He lived a double life. To the world, he was the unseen illegitimate son. In the shadows, he was the architect of X-Holdings. He clawed his way to power because he knew the world would eventually come for Shaoyou. He knew an Alpha's pride was brittle, and he wanted to be the one to provide the protection Shaoyou would one day need.
He would provide everything from the shadows, ensuring Shaoyou’s pride remained intact. He would never ask for a place by his side. Because if Shaoyou ever saw the Enigma beneath the silk, his pride would break. Hua Yong would rather die in the cold than see the man he loved feel inferior.
Standing outside the hospital, the wind biting at his cheeks, Hua Yong looked up at the window of the oncology ward.
“I am here, Shaoyou,” he thought. “I have always been here. I will give you the world, and you will never even have to know my name.”
It was a beautiful, agonizing devotion. A slow burn that had been smoldering for fifteen years, fueled by the tears of a man who was never able to cry.