Chapter 37: Nutritional Allowance
Jiang Rong’s first intimate contact with He Siming happened during his heat. At that time, the heat had tormented him so badly that his mind wasn’t very clear. He only knew that He Siming was his roommate and that he had no other choice—but at least this person suited his tastes perfectly, exactly the type he liked.
He Siming looked aloof on the outside, with a deep voice, long fingers, and an overly sexy protruding Adam’s apple—every single point hit Jiang Rong’s preferences.
The body’s reaction is the most honest. His pheromones liked He Siming’s as well, growing excited and eager in response. If judged by the standards of their world, their pheromone compatibility would probably be above ninety percent. Encountering such an Alpha during heat, he was willing to submit, willing to yield, willing to expose his most vulnerable gland to him.
The peach fragrance filled the room bit by bit, invisibly tempting He Siming.
He laid Jiang Rong down on the bed and confirmed with him once more, “Is it really okay?”
Jiang Rong tilted his head back and answered, “It’s okay. There won’t be any problem.”
He Siming hesitated no more, nodded, and began to devour the sweet, fragrant peach.
With such a delicacy before him, he couldn’t hold back any longer—day after day it had been right at his lips, something he could smell but not eat.
The room wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm enough either. He Siming still found a moment to turn up the air-conditioning.
Before the temperature rose, he pulled the blanket over both of them and lowered his head to kiss Jiang Rong, their clothes still properly on.
When the room finally warmed up and both their body temperatures rose, the blanket was no longer wrapped so tightly.
He Siming was careful not to press on Jiang Rong’s lower abdomen. “Am I pressing on you?”
Jiang Rong, panting, said, “No.”
Afraid he might hurt him by using too much force, He Siming simply let Jiang Rong lie on top of him. “Is this better?”
With the blanket draped over his shoulders and his body pressed against He Siming’s, Jiang Rong felt warm and comfortable under his kisses. “Mm.”
He Siming had never been this careful with anyone before. It didn’t matter if he got a bit more tired himself—he was enjoying it too.
At this moment, it wasn’t just their bodies drawing close; their hearts were slowly moving closer as well, one opening up to the other.
Lost in passion, Jiang Rong blushed as he wrapped his arms around He Siming’s neck—he was even bolder than He Siming.
He Siming asked him several times whether his stomach really didn’t feel uncomfortable.
Jiang Rong shook his head and said it wouldn’t—on the contrary, it felt even better. He even refused to let He Siming use the thin barrier between them, because that way the baby wouldn’t be able to absorb Daddy’s pheromones.
Perhaps it lacked the fervor and intensity of the three-day heat period, but for He Siming, it was a different kind of experience altogether—more delicate, purer, and slower.
Holding Jiang Rong, he kissed him gently, giving him as much pheromone as he wanted.
In the best years of his life, he met the best Jiang Rong.
Peach juice and lime juice blended together, little by little becoming nourishment for another life.
Exhausted, Jiang Rong drowsily told him from He Siming’s arms, “He Siming, you’re amazing.”
He Siming pressed Jiang Rong’s head against his chest, gritted his teeth, and said, “Got it. Go to sleep.” Always tempting his soul.
Jiang Rong closed his eyes in satisfaction and fell asleep.
He Siming didn’t dare sleep right away, afraid Jiang Rong might feel unwell. But after half an hour, seeing him sleeping soundly, he finally dozed off as well.
When Jiang Rong woke up, He Siming’s warm body had turned into the bed beneath him. A soft blanket covered him, and he hugged it and took a deep breath.
After stretching, he sat up. His body was covered in marks left by He Siming. The process hadn’t been very intense, yet the marks were strikingly obvious.
Bathed in He Siming’s pheromones for an entire afternoon and having slept for a while, all the fatigue from the past few days was swept away.
By now, it was completely dark outside.
He changed into the clothes He Siming had prepared for him.
The living room was cooler than the bedroom, so pajamas alone wouldn’t do. He wore a full set of casual clothes—a thin V-neck sweater and casual pants. They weren’t thick, but not thin either. Surprisingly, they fit him perfectly—not too wide, not too long—like they’d been tailored just for him.
He didn’t see He Siming in the living room.
In the open kitchen, chicken soup was simmering, its rich aroma filling the air.
Jiang Rong called into the empty house, “He Siming?”
Why wasn’t he around?
Click.
The front door suddenly opened from the outside. Wearing a down jacket, He Siming came in carrying a plastic bag, spinach leaves poking out from the top.
Seeing Jiang Rong standing in the living room with a puzzled look, he said while changing his shoes, “You’re awake?”
Jiang Rong walked over, wanting to help carry the bag. “Should I take this to the kitchen for you?”
He Siming kicked his shoes under the shoe cabinet and put on his slippers. “No need. Go sit down and wait for dinner.”
Jiang Rong asked again, “Really no need? I can cook too.”
He Siming wrapped one arm around his waist and held the bag with the other. “Actually, there is one thing I need your help with.”
Jiang Rong’s eyes lit up. “Okay, what is it?”
He Siming turned his head and kissed his cheek. “Sit on the chair and watch me cook. Talk to me so I don’t get bored.”
Jiang Rong didn’t argue with him. “That works. Then I count as helping with the cooking.”
Normally, Jiang Rong wasn’t very good at starting conversations, but with He Siming, it felt like any topic would do.
Jiang Rong: “What did you just buy?”
He Siming: “Some vegetables and fresh beef. Ever had stir-fried beef with green peppers?”
Jiang Rong: “I’ve had it in the cafeteria, but what you make will definitely taste better.”
He Siming: “And vinegar-shredded potatoes. My uncle always says that’s my specialty.”
Jiang Rong, sitting on a barstool: “Then I definitely have to try it. How are you cooking the spinach?”
He Siming multitasked, washing vegetables as he spoke. “The doctor’s list says it’s good for your body. How about blanching it in broth? With a bit of minced garlic—can you eat that?”
Jiang Rong nodded, anticipation all over his face. “I can eat a little garlic flavor. I won’t throw up.”
No matter what He Siming cooked, Jiang Rong was happy and waited patiently.
He Siming: “Then that’s settled.”
He began to really show off his skills.
At that moment, Jiang Rong sat under soft lighting, wearing a warm-toned fitted sweater, leaning on the counter watching He Siming.
He Siming noticed that Jiang Rong’s complexion was much better than it had been that afternoon. He looked gentle and mellow. His face had been rather pale recently, but now it carried a peachy hue—a healthy flush.
So doing that really had a nourishing effect?
Seeing He Siming washing vegetables while staring at his face, Jiang Rong felt a bit shy despite their complete honesty earlier in the afternoon.
He urged him, “Why are you staring at me? Hurry and wash the vegetables—the water’s about to overflow.”
He Siming said, “I suddenly want to ask—what exactly are these pheromones you keep talking about? And Omega, Beta, and all that.”
It wasn’t that he hadn’t searched online, but everything he found had nothing to do with what Jiang Rong described.
Jiang Rong took out his phone to search and found that this world had no explanations for the ABO genders—not even in fantasy literature.
No wonder he kept talking about his gender and He Siming had no idea what he meant.
After thinking for a moment, he said, “Did you know that humans actually don’t have just two genders—male and female?”
He Siming replied, “I only know that some countries once supported seventy-eight genders, but I still can’t find the one you’re talking about.”
He really had searched, even downloaded academic papers on gender. None mentioned what Jiang Rong described.
Jiang Rong didn’t know how to explain it for a moment. “Um… maybe I’m not from this world?”
He Siming chuckled, not taking it seriously. “You transmigrated here?”
Jiang Rong nodded, pleased that he guessed it right so quickly. “Yes. I came from another world with six different genders.”
He Siming: “Different space-time, different genders—then why would we have a baby together? That violates biology.”
Jiang Rong was stumped. How could he explain biology? Who knew transmigration could lead to pregnancy?
All he could do was slump over the bar counter and ask, dejected, “Do you want to try believing something unscientific—thinking beyond scientific logic for once?”
Skillfully slicing potatoes, He Siming replied, “Then I’d rather believe that some scientists implanted a weird character-setting chip in you.”
Jiang Rong wrinkled his nose. “Fine.”
He had no proof of his gender anyway. He’d just have to find chances later—sooner or later, he’d make He Siming believe that ABO genders really existed.
Sigh—even having a baby wasn’t proof anymore. Convincing someone who believed only in science was really hard.
As He Siming stir-fried the shredded potatoes, Jiang Rong listened to him talk about how he learned to make the dish.
“Ever since I can remember, my parents were completely devoted to their careers and rarely spent time with me. I was often sent to stay at my uncle’s place. Back then he was still a college student studying medicine and often came home very late. But no matter how busy he was, he’d come back from the lab to cook for me. You know what? He uses a scalpel, not a kitchen knife, to cut potatoes. He said it was good practice for precision.”
Jiang Rong asked, “Why didn’t you hire a nanny?” With their family’s means, that would’ve been easy.
He Siming replied, “My uncle’s kind of particular. He doesn’t like others touching his things, let alone strangers. It got better after he got married.”
Jiang Rong said, “Then you must be really close to your uncle.”
He Siming replied, “It’s alright. Next time we go to the hospital for a prenatal checkup, would you like to meet him? I want him to get to know you.”
Jiang Rong hadn’t expected the conversation to go there and felt a bit flustered. “Ah? But I’m not ready yet.”
He Siming reassured him, “Don’t worry. There’s not really a generation gap between him and us. Doctors have seen all kinds of rare conditions—you just happen to be someone who can have a baby. In their eyes, we’re just organisms made up of 206 bones.”
Jiang Rong hesitated. “That… works, I guess. What a special doctor.”
To help him relax, He Siming shared something amusing. “When my uncle was teaching at the medical school, he once used my little cousin as a demo subject. In front of a bunch of students, he pressed on his stomach to find the cartilage, and then my aunt scolded him.”
Jiang Rong laughed, his uncle’s image coming vividly to life.
Seeing that his method worked, He Siming continued explaining things little by little, helping Jiang Rong slowly understand his family. He would accept it gradually.
Perhaps because his body had absorbed enough pheromones, or maybe because He Siming’s cooking was just too delicious, Jiang Rong drank two bowls of soup and ate two bowls of rice, finishing all the dishes with He Siming—true clean-plate action.
It was the first time He Siming had seen Jiang Rong eat so much, and it made him happy. This was far better than him barely eating—seemed like his hard work that afternoon really paid off.
Jiang Rong felt deeply satisfied with the entire day.
Yao Shule was still asking in the group chat whether he’d be returning to the dorm that night.
He Siming replied for him that he wouldn’t.
After eating, Jiang Rong stood up to digest while He Siming cleaned the kitchen, putting dishes and pots into the dishwasher. Then they sat together on the sofa.
He Siming asked, “Want to watch a movie? We can cast it on the screen.”
Jiang Rong nodded. “I want to.”
He Siming picked a comedy that was very popular but that he hadn’t watched before.
The sofa was spacious enough. When half the lights were turned off, Jiang Rong walked over to He Siming on the sofa.
Not coy but a little shy, he said, “I want to sit in your arms.”
“Come here.” He Siming pulled him into his embrace, holding him from behind as they watched together, occasionally kissing his hair, his cheek, and sneaking a taste of his after-dinner dessert—those peach-flavored lips.
Leaning comfortably against He Siming’s chest, Jiang Rong felt warm inside. He laughed throughout the movie. Even though they lived in different worlds, comedy still translated well. Whenever he didn’t understand something, he asked He Siming.
He Siming played with Jiang Rong’s fingers as he answered. Jiang Rong’s hands were one size smaller, slender and soft.
The movie ran for an hour and forty-five minutes. When it ended, it was time for Jiang Rong to get sleepy.
After showering one after the other, they lay down on the bed together.
Jiang Rong immediately nestled into He Siming’s arms, wrapping his arms around his waist, and asked drowsily, “He Siming, I’m going to sleep. Is it uncomfortable if I hug you like this?”
He Siming kissed his cheek and looked at his round earlobe. “No. You can sleep on me if you want. You can even hold me in your mouth if you want.”
“You—” Jiang Rong lightly bit him through the pajamas.
He Siming laughed softly. Jiang Rong felt the slight vibration of his chest from the laughter and blushed as he tightened his arms around his waist.
“Alright, I won’t tease you anymore.” He gently stroked Jiang Rong’s back, which had thinned recently due to morning sickness. “Go to sleep.”
Breathing in He Siming’s lime-scented pheromones, Jiang Rong drifted into a sweet sleep. Since coming to this world, he had never felt this at ease.
Jiang Rong spent the entire weekend at He Siming’s place and only returned to the dorm on Sunday night.
Yao Shule and Li Yizhou didn’t mind that he spent the weekend with He Siming. During short holidays, Yao Shule sometimes stayed at Li Yizhou’s place too. Li Yizhou’s parents occasionally invited him over for the weekend—Li’s mom loved playing mahjong with him, and Li’s dad liked drinking and finger-guessing games with him. He was practically about to become Li Yizhou’s sworn younger brother.
That weekend happened to be Christmas. The two of them each had their own groups to hang out with and plenty of activities.
Jiang Rong only learned that it was Christmas that morning. In his world, there was no Christmas, so he had no real concept of it. He Siming never liked joining in the festivities either, so the two of them stayed home. Still, it felt like a holiday for them.
In the new week, Jiang Rong’s mental state was noticeably different, and Yao Shule picked up on it.
At lunch on Tuesday, as they ate together in the cafeteria, Yao Shule kept staring at Jiang Rong’s face.
“What have you been eating these past two days?” he asked. “Your complexion’s so much better.”
Jiang Rong replied, “Just normal meals.”
Yao Shule reached out and touched his face. “Damn, why is your skin so smooth? I’m so jealous.”
He Siming didn’t like Jiang Rong having to squeeze through the cafeteria crowd, so he went to get food for him. When he returned, he saw Yao Shule touching Jiang Rong.
His gaze dropped to Yao Shule’s hand. “What’s smooth?”
Yao Shule replied, “Rongrong’s face—super soft and hydrated. Want to feel it too?”
He Siming thought, As if I wouldn’t know. He’d not only touched it, but kissed it too—his teeth had even left marks for dozens of seconds.
He Siming said to Jiang Rong, “Sit on the inside.”
Jiang Rong shifted inward by one seat.
He Siming placed himself between Yao Shule and Jiang Rong.
Yao Shule, who’d been about to reach out again: “……”
Jiang Rong smiled, not really bothered, and took the chopsticks He Siming handed him.
Just then, Li Yizhou squeezed over, followed by Ding Yan, and then their class monitor.
Yao Shule’s attention immediately shifted to Ding Yan. “Why are you over here again?”
Ding Yan replied, “Can’t I?”
The class monitor said, “As soon as your program was submitted, it got approved. He-god really has a direct pass.”
He Siming said, “You could always pull some strings and revoke our direct pass.” His desire to perform was zero.
The monitor laughed. “Haha, no way. Oh right, the performance is this Saturday night—you’ve prepared your outfits, right?”
The three-day New Year’s holiday had been adjusted, with classes still on Saturday. The gala would be held Saturday night.
Yao Shule loved dressing up handsomely. “Then we have to dress well. What should the four of us wear—suits or tailcoats?”
Ding Yan said, “Wouldn’t tailcoats look kind of weird?”
Yao Shule glared at him. “Bro, if you don’t talk, no one thinks you’re mute, okay? He-god, can I kick this friend of yours out of the group? His mouth is so annoying.”
He Siming said, “Go ahead. I didn’t add him.”
Ding Yan zipped his lips with his fingers. “Sorry, I’ll shut up.”
He Siming actually wanted to see Jiang Rong in a suit. Performing in front of over two thousand people in a heated auditorium wouldn’t be cold.
He made the final call. “Suits.”
Yao Shule cheered. “Yes! I love suits—white ones!”
Li Yizhou sighed. “Do I really have to wear one?”
He Siming said, “Ding Yan, you have plenty of suits. Find one for Li Yizhou.”
Yao Shule grinned. “Hehe, I’ve got mine. What about Rongrong?”
Before Jiang Rong could answer, He Siming said, “I have one that’s a size smaller—it should fit him.”
Jiang Rong: “……” It’s not like I’ve worn it before.
On Sunday morning, he’d seen He Siming taking clothes out of the wardrobe for him—some still had tags on them. Those clearly weren’t He Siming’s size, which meant they were meant for him.
No one noticed that He Siming was basically taking care of Jiang Rong’s instruments and clothes. Mainly because their relationship had become genuinely close—always coming and going together. People got used to it. Weren’t straight guys like that sometimes? Some even went to public bathhouses together to scrub each other’s backs.
Ding Yan suddenly asked, “What are you guys doing for New Year’s? Want to go to a hot spring?”
He’d invited He Siming at Christmas, but He Siming had refused.
Ding Yan always had lots of activities. He Siming, on the other hand, didn’t really care about holidays. Sometimes he’d join in if he felt like it; otherwise, he’d stay home coding or squat in the lab.
Yao Shule said, “Hot springs? Sounds nice, but won’t it be super crowded on New Year’s?”
Ding Yan replied, “We can book the whole place.”
Yao Shule: “……”
He Siming checked his phone. “Not going.”
A pregnant person couldn’t soak in hot springs.
Li Yizhou said, “I saw a park in the suburbs that’s doing iron flower fireworks and a firework show on New Year’s Eve. There’s also a farm stay—food is all home-raised chicken and lamb.”
Yao Shule got excited immediately. “Wow, that sounds great! I want to go. You can’t set off fireworks in the city, but you can in the suburbs.”
He Siming noticed the change in Jiang Rong’s eyes when he heard this and said, “That could work.”
Ding Yan said, “It’s settled then. Xiaozhou, hurry and tell the boss we’re booking the place!”
Li Yizhou stared at him speechlessly. “……”
Ding Yan asked, “Can’t we book it?”
Li Yizhou replied, “But there are only a few of us—wouldn’t that be extravagant?”
Ding Yan said, “Alright, you handle it.”
Li Yizhou sighed. “Fine, I’ll ask my uncle.”
Ding Yan: “So the farm stay belongs to your relative?”
Li Yizhou waved it off. “Eh, don’t worry about it.”
Thus, the New Year’s plan was set.
He Siming checked the time. “We’ll have to head out right after the gala on New Year’s Day.” He turned to Jiang Rong. “Is that okay?”
Jiang Rong nodded. “Sure.”
The class monitor asked timidly, “Can people from outside your dorm come too?”
Li Yizhou said, “Sure! My uncle loves lively crowds. Why not shout it out in the group—anyone who wants to come can come.”
Yao Shule said, “Ding Yan, don’t you have any handsome guys in finance? Invite a few.”
Ding Yan pointed at himself. “Do you think I dare like men right now?”
Yao Shule shot back, “We’re all men here, so why are you sitting with us?”
Ding Yan was rendered speechless. “Then I’ll invite a few. Li Yizhou, are there enough rooms at your uncle’s place?”
Li Yizhou checked his phone. “My uncle says there are ten rooms total. You can also try sleeping on the heated brick bed.”
Yao Shule said, “I want to try that—I’ve never slept on one.”
Jiang Rong quietly asked He Siming, “What’s a heated brick bed?”
He Siming explained, “It’s like a big shared sleeping platform. I’ve never slept on one either.”
Jiang Rong asked, “Then we’ll sleep together?”
He Siming: “……”
Jiang Rong was genuinely curious. He tugged lightly at He Siming’s clothes. “I want to try.”
He Siming couldn’t bring himself to refuse. “Then we’ll do it.” Though he really wanted private space.
Lunch passed amid discussions of whether to sleep on the heated bed or in double rooms. As they left the cafeteria, the class monitor walked up to Jiang Rong.
He said, “Jiang Rong, you haven’t filled out the form I sent you earlier. Did you forget? Deadline is tomorrow at noon.”
Jiang Rong replied, “Thanks, monitor. I know.”
The monitor was still a bit unused to his politeness. “No problem—just fill it out soon.”
After that, he went off to chat about games with Li Yizhou and the others.
He Siming had heard everything and asked Jiang Rong, “What form?”
Jiang Rong didn’t hide it. “The financial aid application for underprivileged students.”
He Siming placed a hand on the back of Jiang Rong’s head and whispered in his ear, “No need to fill it out. Grandpa and Grandma sent over nutritional allowance for the baby.”
Jiang Rong didn’t process it at first. “Grandpa and Grandma?”
He Siming nodded. “My parents. Give me your bank card number.”
Jiang Rong was startled. “Y-your parents know?”
He Siming said, “I told them.”
Jiang Rong: “Then… I…” He was nervous.
He Siming smiled. “Don’t be afraid. They only love their careers and won’t meddle much. But when they’re back in the capital, we should have a simple meal together.”
Jiang Rong: “Ah? E-eat together?”
Wasn’t that meeting the parents?
He Siming said, “If you don’t want to meet them, I won’t arrange it. Don’t worry.”
With that reassurance, Jiang Rong relaxed.
Jiang Rong said, “Okay.”
He Siming added, “But you still have to accept the baby’s nutritional allowance. It’s just a small token from them.”
Jiang Rong hesitated. “Really? I haven’t done anything.”
He Siming replied, “Of course. It’s for the baby—like a New Year’s red envelope. It’s not much, and we’ll have plenty of expenses ahead. This isn’t the time to save.”
Persuaded, Jiang Rong agreed. If it wasn’t much, accepting it was fine—he could always find a way to pay it back once he earned money.
Back at the dorm, He Siming urged Jiang Rong to give him his card number. Jiang Rong took out the new bank card he’d recently applied for and sent the number to He Siming.
Ding ding ding.
Instant transfer.
[XX Bank] Your account 9999 received a transfer of RMB 10,000,000.00 from account 8888 at 13:01 on December 27.
Jiang Rong clutched his chest and counted the zeros.
One, two, three, four…
For some reason, he suddenly thought of his mother back in his original world.
It seemed he really was marrying into a wealthy family.
