Chapter 69: Suppressants
After two days of anxiously searching through various academic papers, Jiang Rong was the first to come to his senses.
There were still more than ten years before He Shenglin might possibly differentiate into an ABO gender. They were simply overthinking it—worry had clouded their judgment.
They could take the child to the hospital for regular checkups in the future. If he eventually differentiated into an Alpha or Omega, once his glands developed and took shape, hospitals would be able to detect pheromones.
Since their original world had been able to develop suppressants, this world should also be capable of researching suppressants for heat periods or sensitive periods.
Jiang Rong felt that the one he should actually be worrying about now wasn’t his son, but himself.
He had almost forgotten that he had a heat period once a month.
Before giving birth, he had undergone a full-body MRI. He had seen his own glands—exactly the same as those he had seen in biology textbooks and museums before: a fully developed gland.
The reason he had previously believed himself to be a Beta was because Betas also had glands, but Beta glands were atrophied. The imaging he had done in his original world showed glands just like a Beta’s, which was why he had been diagnosed as a Beta who would never differentiate into an Omega.
He knew too little about the situation of an Omega’s heat cycle after pregnancy. It couldn’t be that the heat period would come just one month after giving birth, right? According to this world’s understanding, one month after delivery still wasn’t even the end of postpartum confinement—the body hadn’t fully recovered yet.
Xu Mingqin had emphasized to him that he absolutely had to complete a full forty days of confinement before going outside.
Jiang Rong hadn’t expected that after worrying about his son’s gender, the problem would circle right back to himself.
If doctors could make suppressants for him, then regardless of whether He Shenglin differentiated into an Alpha or an Omega, it wouldn’t be an issue. The most ideal outcome would be for the child to inherit He Siming’s gender or become a Beta.
Once Jiang Rong stopped worrying about his son, he started worrying about himself instead. He was so distracted that he didn’t even feel like looking at the fresh, dewy bouquets of flowers that kept being delivered to the house.
He Siming had just invited Tang Yucheng to attend He Shenglin’s one-month celebration next month. As expected, he got a reply with six dots, followed by a barrage of messages. He decided to close his phone and not reply.
He went downstairs to bring Jiang Rong his must-drink-of-the-day chicken soup and saw him sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window, sighing, without even wearing his hat.
He Siming set the chicken soup in front of him, then picked up the hat tossed aside and put it on his head.
“What are you sighing for? The chicken soup is just the right temperature. Drink it first.”
Jiang Rong looked bitterly at the clear bowl of soup. For the first three days, it had been delicious. After two straight weeks, though, he instinctively wanted to escape whenever he saw chicken soup.
“He Siming, I can’t finish it. How about you help me drink half of it? I really can’t force it down.”
“Alright. Drink as much as you can. Tomorrow I’ll have Auntie switch to a different soup.”
Only then did Jiang Rong slowly pick up the bowl and drink half, leaving the rest for He Siming.
Normally, no matter how greasy the soup was, Jiang Rong could still drink at least two-thirds. Today he only managed half.
After finishing the rest of the soup, He Siming could tell he genuinely had no appetite—his mood was written all over his face.
“Still worried about He Shenglin?”
Other than that, there shouldn’t be anything else troubling him this much.
Jiang Rong shook his head. “No, it’s my own issue.”
That immediately made He Siming tense. “Hm? Are you feeling unwell? Is the wound still itchy? I can ask my uncle if there’s a way to deal with it.”
“It’s not the wound. I’m recovering fine—it’s not as itchy as a few days ago.”
In the daytime, he always found it hard to bring up the topic of his heat period.
Seeing him hesitate, He Siming pressed, “So what is it?”
Jiang Rong covered his face with one hand. “It’s… my heat period.”
Just hearing those three words, He Siming remained calm. “So?”
“I’m worried I might go into heat this month. The wound hasn’t fully healed yet, and I don’t know when the heat period will come.”
He Siming smiled. “You don’t know how long after giving birth the heat period returns?”
Jiang Rong tugged on his arm. “Don’t laugh. I really don’t know. Be serious.”
He Siming pulled out his phone and started searching for information related to childbirth.
He could only frame Jiang Rong’s situation from a female perspective. If a heat period were treated like menstruation, then if recovery went well, menstruation could return in three months; if recovery was poorer, it might not come back for a year.
He showed Jiang Rong the results. “Don’t worry. If we temporarily equate heat periods with menstruation, I think your next heat might be three months away at the earliest—maybe four or five months, or even a year.”
Jiang Rong blinked, feeling a bit less anxious. In this world, women’s menstruation was very similar to an Omega’s heat cycle—short could be two or three days, long could be seven. The difference was that one was physiological, the other instinctual.
Seeing this did ease him somewhat.
“I hope so. Then it shouldn’t come that soon. I want to discuss something with you—could we ask your uncle to help develop a heat-cycle suppressant?”
When He Siming heard the new term “suppressant,” he almost felt numb.
Why did Jiang Rong have so many strange settings?
He Siming instinctively felt this probably wasn’t a good thing.
“What exactly is a suppressant?”
Jiang Rong explained, “Suppressants are used during an Omega’s heat period or an Alpha’s sensitive period. With it, the heat period can be like normal days, without being troubled by it.”
He Siming gained a rough understanding of Jiang Rong’s ABO world.
“So if you use a suppressant, you won’t go into heat in front of an Alpha? Omegas won’t need Alphas anymore?”
Was this good or bad? Jiang Rong had always treated him as an Alpha, hadn’t he?
If this thing existed, wouldn’t he become useless to Jiang Rong?
“Not exactly. Suppressants are meant to help Alphas and Omegas integrate into society more easily. I don’t want to be controlled by heat cycles all the time—it really interferes with things. I need suppressants.”
He Siming’s mind was a mess. “Then why did you ask me for pheromones before? Wasn’t that basically a heat period?”
“Yeah, pretty much. But in the future it might be more regular.”
“With me around, why do you still need suppressants? Can’t I be your suppressant?”
Jiang Rong glanced at him. “But you can’t be by my side all the time. And every heat period lasts three days…”
He Siming lightly pinched his now slightly fuller cheek. “Are you doubting that I can provide enough pheromones for three days?” This was serious!
Jiang Rong’s mouth was squished flat by his fingers. “No. You’ve seen what I’m like during heat—it’s really uncomfortable. Wouldn’t suppressants make it easier? Besides, I’ve never used them.” He burrowed into He Siming’s arms and said dully, “Heat periods feel like an illness to me. I don’t like having my life controlled by this.”
Back when he thought he couldn’t differentiate into an Omega, he had felt relieved—not having to face the embarrassment of heat periods.
Later, after being neglected by his parents, he had wondered why he hadn’t differentiated into an Omega.
Fate always played tricks on people. But one thing hadn’t changed: he didn’t want to be an Omega.
Now, he didn’t regret becoming one. But if he had a choice, he would never choose this gender. He just wanted to live freely like He Siming and Yao Shule—without constantly being troubled by gender.
To him, an Omega’s heat period was like a shackle, robbing him of control over his own body. How could one talk about freedom if even their body wasn’t under their control?
He Siming could feel his desolation and pinpointed it exactly. “You don’t want to be an Omega.”
“Yeah. If I hadn’t met you, I might’ve been someone dancing in shackles.” A restraint, and a limitation.
“I understand.” He Siming felt heartache for him. Just like his own long-forgotten issue with excessive desire—it too was a kind of shackle.
Everyone had their own shackles. He Siming wanted to help Jiang Rong break free from his.
“When my uncle has some time off, I’ll go talk to him. We’ll work on this together—there’ll always be a solution.”
Jiang Rong climbed into his lap and kissed his chin, calling him softly, “He Siming.”
“Mm?”
He Siming hugged him gently, mindful of his wound, not as carefree as before.
“Having you is really nice.” Jiang Rong wrapped his arms around his neck, pressing close.
Ring, ring, ring.
The rarely used landline rang. Since voices didn’t carry well between floors, the old-fashioned phone came in handy.
He Zhixian and Xu Mingqin weren’t in the capital. The four of them had a small group chat, where the elders sent daily photos and videos of the baby, so there was no way they’d be home now.
He Siming was annoyed at the interruption and reluctant to let go of Jiang Rong. “Probably someone looking for me.”
The phone wasn’t very loud—just a reminder. With a baby at home, it wasn’t used casually.
The aunt said, “Young Master He, there are two young men outside who say they’re your friends and are asking to be let in.”
“I know,” He Siming replied.
Jiang Rong happened to see the group chat notification. “It’s Ding Yan and Li Yizhou. They said they’re coming to see me.”
“Why didn’t they say so earlier?”
“Probably just happened to be free. Ding Yan must be back home for vacation. Let’s go take a look.”
He had already been in confinement for nearly three weeks—walking around the house was fine.
“You stay upstairs. I’ll have them come up.”
With the hot weather and strong air-conditioning downstairs, He Siming strictly enforced the rule of “no drafts during confinement,” not letting Jiang Rong get even a bit of wind.
Seeing his determination, Jiang Rong didn’t insist.
“Have Auntie make some mung bean dessert and bring it up. They must be hot coming out in this weather. I’ll change clothes first.”
He was dressed too casually at home to meet guests.
He Siming gave him a gentle peck on the cheek. “My wife is really thoughtful.”
Being praised so straightforwardly made Jiang Rong’s face warm. He nudged him. “Go on, don’t keep them waiting.”
“It’s fine. Ding Yan’s been here before—he’s familiar.”
Sure enough, as soon as he said that, Jiang Rong could practically hear Ding Yan’s loud voice.
Ding Yan was as cheerfully loud as ever. “Old He, aren’t you home? Where are you?”
“Stop shouting. I’m upstairs,” He Siming called from the third-floor railing.
It was Li Yizhou’s first time there, and he was stunned by the luxury. He’d thought He Siming’s place near campus was already extravagant—this was on another level.
“He-god, where’s Jiang Rong?” Li Yizhou had only learned from Yao Shule, while gaming together, that Jiang Rong had undergone surgery.
“He’s changing clothes. Come up to the third floor.”
He Siming also had Auntie prepare summer dessert drinks, per Jiang Rong’s instructions.
It was lunchtime.
“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?” He Siming asked.
“Nope,” Ding Yan said. “I just got back to the capital. Li Yizhou said Jiang Rong had surgery, and I happened to be passing by, so I came straight over.”
They all knew He Siming and Jiang Rong weren’t near campus during the summer—they were recuperating here. Coincidentally, Ding Yan had been here before.
“So you came specifically to see Jiang Rong?” He Siming said. “Didn’t know I was home?”
“You’re not sick. Of course we came to see him. Besides, Uncle and Auntie wouldn’t be home anyway.”
“….”
His parents’ workaholic reputation really was well known.
Seeing that Ding Yan and Li Yizhou truly came with concern—and even brought supplements—He Siming didn’t say anything more.
Sometimes he wanted to share his happiness, but…
Never mind. Not everyone could grasp things immediately. One fewer person knowing meant one less risk.
Everything came down to protecting Jiang Rong. He couldn’t guarantee Ding Yan wouldn’t let something slip after a few drinks someday.
Some things were better left unsaid.
Jiang Rong came out in home clothes, pleasantly surprised to see them.
Li Yizhou looked around the living room and said, “Yao Shule told us you had surgery.”
Ding Yan, always quick to speak and out of concern, added, “Man, that surgery worked wonders. Your belly’s gone just like that—must’ve been a huge tumor. Will it come back?”
Jiang Rong stared at him in disbelief and glanced at He Siming.
Hadn’t they officially announced a family of three on social media? And they still didn’t suspect anything?
Behind them, He Siming gently shook his head—meaning neither of them had reacted at all to the family photo.
“It wasn’t a tumor,” He Siming said. “He gave birth to my son.”
Ding Yan and Li Yizhou thought he was continuing a joke and burst out laughing.
Jiang Rong: “…Alright.”
The four chatted for a while and had lunch in the third-floor dining room.
Jiang Rong had postpartum meals, different from theirs.
“Whoa, pig’s trotters with ginger?” Ding Yan said. “That looks pretty good for a patient meal.”
“What’s pig’s trotters with ginger?” Li Yizhou asked.
He Siming had asked Auntie to make something different for Jiang Rong, and today it happened to be that dish. Surely they’d catch on now?
Since hints weren’t working, He Siming made it more obvious. “Yeah, it’s very nourishing—perfect after surgery.”
Ding Yan suddenly exclaimed, “Oh! I remember now—my cousin in the south ate this during postpartum confinement!”
He Siming felt a bit relieved. Finally, some realization.
“So Jiang Rong eating this after surgery is super nourishing. Guess we can’t eat it,” Li Yizhou said.
“Yeah, the flavor’s weird anyway. I don’t like ginger,” Ding Yan added.
Li Yizhou sniffed and shook his head. “Me neither.”
Seeing He Siming grip his chopsticks tightly, Jiang Rong stifled a laugh. “Then eat something else. He Siming doesn’t like ginger either—this dish is just for me. This boiled beef is Auntie’s specialty. Try it—He Siming specifically asked her to make it.”
Touched, Ding Yan said, “Old He, you remembered my favorite.”
“And this is roast chicken,” Jiang Rong said. “Li Yizhou, you should like it.”
“Yeah, yeah! He-god, you remembered my tastes too. I’ll be your friend for life!”
He Siming looked at Jiang Rong, who was clutching his stomach trying not to laugh. He was utterly speechless at these two idiots.
“Alright, eat while it’s hot.”
They never directly mentioned the surgery again. It didn’t matter—without prompting, they were easily distracted by other topics, especially when Jiang Rong brought up Yao Shule traveling in the northwest, waking up earlier than chickens and sleeping later than dogs.
“Damn, I was thinking we’d do a road trip for our graduation travel. Why did he go ahead of us?” Ding Yan said.
“Then let him go again,” Li Yizhou replied.
“Graduation’s still two years away,” Jiang Rong said.
“Yeah, we’ll talk about it then,” He Siming said.
They had a child now—they weren’t as carefree as before. They couldn’t just go on a whim.
After the meal, Ding Yan and Li Yizhou knew better than to disturb Jiang Rong’s rest and left early.
Li Yizhou had a part-time job at a swimming pool during the summer. Ding Yan, though a bit slow in some ways, still knew not to interrupt a couple’s time together.
He Siming walked them downstairs. As they passed the nursery, the baby cried—it was probably time for milk.
Surely they’d notice something now?
Instead, Ding Yan and Li Yizhou were talking about a new game on a gaming platform.
“Damn, I’m buying this game!”
“It needs a high-end PC. Mine probably can’t handle it.”
“So what? Use mine. I’ve got two. Come to my place tomorrow—we’re clearing this game this summer!”
“Legendary, Old Ding.”
He Siming pressed the elevator close button. “…Great. You two perfectly missed my son’s one-month celebration!”
When he returned to the third floor, Jiang Rong was holding the baby and feeding him.
With a hint of expectation, Jiang Rong asked, “Did they hear He Shenglin crying?”
He Siming said regretfully, “They automatically filtered it out.”
Jiang Rong burst out laughing, rare and unsteady, laughing so hard his hand holding the bottle shook.
He Shenglin: “……”
