As a Scummy Omega, I Ran Away with the Baby - Chapter 52

Bai Qingqiu’s first reaction was pain.

A searing, almost unbearable agony shot up from her ankle like an out-of-control electric current, spreading through her entire body in an instant. Her vision darkened, and she nearly fainted on the spot.

She wanted to move. Wanted to prop herself up, to salvage even a shred of dignity. But her body refused to obey; every muscle rebelled against her commands. Helpless, she could only lie face-down on the cold floor in a humiliating, crumpled heap, her consciousness bobbing between excruciating pain and dizzying disorientation.

“Bai Qingqiu!!!!”

A heart-wrenching, tearful shout rang out, yanking her back from the brink of unconsciousness.

It was Gu Yining’s voice.

Panicked footsteps drew near, then a pair of warm arms, trembling uncontrollably, carefully lifted her upper body.

Bai Qingqiu’s head lolled back from weakness, resting against those warm arms. A familiar scent, faintly tinged with roses, enveloped her instantly. She could feel Gu Yining’s hands carefully cradling her into her embrace.

“Bai Qingqiu? Are you okay? Don’t scare me like this!” Gu Yining’s voice shook, her eyes red, tears spilling uncontrollably down her face. Straining, Bai Qingqiu lifted her heavy eyelids, and the first thing she saw was Gu Yining’s terrified, tear-streaked face.

“Bai Qingqiu!” Seeing her awake, Gu Yining’s eyes widened in relief, calling her name instinctively.

Sniffling, she bent down to touch Bai Qingqiu’s foot—but fear of worsening the injury stopped her, leaving her helplessly calling out.

“Bai Qingqiu.”

It had been a long time since they had been this close. Close enough that Bai Qingqiu could hear the frantic pounding of Gu Yining’s heart, each beat echoing her worry and panic.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

Summoning all her strength, Bai Qingqiu raised an arm, gently resting it over Gu Yining’s trembling hand that guarded her.

“I’m fine,” she said with difficulty. “Help me onto the sofa.”

“You’re still being stubborn!” Gu Yining said, part angry, part frantic, tears falling even more fiercely. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, resolute. “No! I’m calling Xiao Li right now to take you to the hospital.”

The word hospital hit Bai Qingqiu like a needle stabbing her nerves. She froze instinctively, a flood of past memories of hospitals rising in her mind, fear flashing across her eyes.

“I’m not going to the hospital!” she blurted, unable to hide it in front of Gu Yining. “Call my private doctor. Help me sit there.”

She couldn’t go to the hospital.

For years, everything about hospitals had felt like a nightmare: watching her parents bleeding helplessly as a child, being rushed into surgery where the outcome was futile, the bone-deep agony she endured giving birth to Bai Xia.

But to Gu Yining, this fear looked like nothing more than stubborn pride.

“It’s this bad! Your foot is swollen like this!” Gu Yining’s voice quivered with tears, almost a shout. “Bai Qingqiu, this isn’t the office. I’m not your subordinate. You don’t have to care about face—about whether I’ll look down on you. I won’t! I’m worried about you!”

It was the first time since they had reunited that Gu Yining had spoken to her in such a forceful tone.

Even after speaking, her body trembled slightly.

Yet all of it melted away the instant Bai Qingqiu looked at her. Her insistence dissolved under Bai Qingqiu’s near-pleading gaze.

Bai Qingqiu lowered her head like the air had gone out of her, surrendering first in this silent standoff.

“Okay.” Gu Yining gritted her teeth, her voice low.

She tilted her head back, forcing back her tears, wiping her face, and speaking again with red-rimmed eyes:

“I won’t take you to the hospital—but I’ll call your doctor right now and have her come. Until she arrives, you have to listen to me.”

She didn’t give Bai Qingqiu a chance to argue, leaning in close.

Bai Qingqiu expected her to half-lift, half-support her onto the sofa as before, preparing to raise a hand to her shoulder for leverage—but what Gu Yining did next completely exceeded her expectations.

Instead of holding her elbows, Gu Yining slipped one hand under Bai Qingqiu’s knees and the other firmly behind her back. Then, to Bai Qingqiu’s stunned, nearly breathless gaze, veins standing out on Gu Yining’s arm, she lifted her horizontally off the cold floor with a single, steady motion.

“You!”

Bai Qingqiu gasped, instinctively struggling.

“Don’t move. You’ll fall,” Gu Yining muttered, carrying her steadily forward.

Suspended in the air, Bai Qingqiu instinctively grabbed her sleeve. From her angle, she could see the taut line of Gu Yining’s jaw from the effort, the stubborn light in her eyes, a faint shimmer of tears still clinging to her curled lashes.

Time seemed to stretch in that moment.

Gu Yining walked steadily, step by step, holding her close. Bai Qingqiu felt almost no jolt as they moved, only the familiar faint scent of roses lingering in the air.

Not the overpowering intensity of Rhodes roses, but the gentle, subtle fragrance of Carolina roses—soft and lingering, delicate in a way that made you savor it rather than being overwhelmed.

Although it was only a few steps away, Bai Qingqiu felt as if she was worlds apart.

It wasn’t until she was firmly set down on the sofa that she realized Gu Yining had already carried her there.

The entire process had been seamless, without a hint of hesitation. Even after setting her down, Gu Yining didn’t pause for a single moment. She stood up decisively, pulled out her phone, treating the act as if it was the most ordinary, trivial thing in the world.

“What’s the doctor’s number?” Gu Yining asked, turning to her.

Suppressing the strange flutter in her chest, Bai Qingqiu lowered her eyelids and recited the familiar digits from memory.

As she spoke, Gu Yining dialed. The moment the words left Bai Qingqiu’s mouth, the call was already being placed.

The phone was answered almost instantly.

“Hello, this is Bai Qingqiu’s friend,” Gu Yining began, speaking rapidly and clearly. “Bai Qingqiu fell down the stairs at home. Her ankle is severely swollen, but she is conscious and has no other injuries. Yes, that’s right—no other injuries.

Please bring your equipment and come as soon as possible. The address is—”

Fluently, she recited the villa’s address and, without leaving any room for refusal, added:

“Please come as quickly as possible. Thank you for your hard work.”

After hanging up, Gu Yining didn’t even glance at her. She ducked into the kitchen, rummaging through things with her back turned. After a while, she emerged holding an ice pack and a towel.

Squatting down in front of her, Gu Yining furrowed her brow, studying the injury. After a moment of thought, she carefully placed the towel under Bai Qingqiu’s already swollen, reddish ankle, then positioned the frozen, rigid ice pack on top.

“Sh—”

The bone-chilling cold seeped through the towel. Bai Qingqiu drew in a sharp breath, instinctively recoiling.

“Does it hurt?” Gu Yining asked, immediately looking up in concern, pausing her movements. “Is it pressing too hard?”

Bai Qingqiu watched her—watched her pursed lips, the worried expression, the way she squatted there, eyes full of concern. Her throat felt blocked; no words could escape.

How long had it been since she’d seen Gu Yining like this?

Since their reunion, it had always been confrontations—over past grievances or the mess Bei Nanyan had created. They never had a chance—or wanted—to sit down quietly and speak to one another.

It was as if they instinctively pushed each other away, growing a spiky armor to prevent further harm.

Both of them had claimed to have let go, to not care anymore. But in truth, neither had. They were still prickly hedgehogs, protecting themselves while risking hurting the other.

The last time Bai Qingqiu had seen Gu Yining so concerned about her body was five years ago.

She had been pregnant with Bai Xia, feeling unwell, but she never told her. She had brushed it off as stomach pain. Gu Yining had already decided to leave her, yet stubbornly brought stomach medicine over to her house anyway.

Gu Yining’s unwavering, unconditional concern—even without any expectations—seemed to peel away the defenses Bai Qingqiu had thought were impenetrable.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she finally rasped, her voice hoarse. “This is fine.”

Gu Yining gave her a long, steady look to confirm she wasn’t forcing herself, then, feeling the position through the towel, carefully pressed the ice pack onto her swollen ankle again. Using her other hand, she awkwardly tried to tie the towel in a knot to secure it.

It was clear she had never done this before. No matter how she tried, the towel wouldn’t hold. She pouted anxiously, worried that improper pressure might worsen the injury but hesitant to use more force.

After struggling for a while, Gu Yining gave up. She pressed the ice pack in place with her hands, letting it stay on Bai Qingqiu’s ankle.

Watching her fumble like this, Bai Qingqiu’s lips curved into a small, involuntary smile.

For a moment, the only sounds in the living room were their breathing.

Feeling the lingering pain in her ankle and glancing at Gu Yining, who squatted awkwardly like a little duck, shifting her weight from foot to foot to ease the numbness, Bai Qingqiu felt a strange, swelling ache stir in her chest—a mixture of unfamiliar warmth and tender emotion.