As a Scummy Omega, I Ran Away with the Baby - Chapter 53

The doctor was highly efficient. In less than half an hour, she arrived at the villa in a hurry, lugging a personal medical kit that looked anything but light.

The moment she stepped inside and saw Bai Qingqiu’s deathly pale face on the sofa—along with an ankle so horribly swollen and bruised it looked like a lump of rising dough—her brows immediately knitted together.

“How did this happen?” she asked, squatting down beside Bai Qingqiu as she swiftly opened the kit and took out various examination tools. She cast a brief glance at Gu Yining, who stood nearby at a loss, and signaled with her eyes that she could step aside for now.

Gu Yining was still holding an ice pack that had nearly melted, along with a damp towel, staying close to Bai Qingqiu. Catching the doctor’s cue, she tactfully retreated a few steps, making room.

“I missed my footing on the stairs,” Bai Qingqiu replied curtly, clearly unwilling to dwell on her earlier embarrassment.

Gu Yining glanced at the doctor now kneeling in front of Bai Qingqiu, then at Bai Qingqiu herself, who had calmed down and was sitting safely on the sofa. After a moment’s thought, she turned and went to the kitchen to put away the now-superfluous items in her hands.

Once Gu Yining had stepped away, the doctor put on sterile gloves, carefully lifted Bai Qingqiu’s heel, and began a professional, efficient examination of the injury.

“The ligaments are definitely damaged—there may even be tearing,” she said. “As for whether there’s a fracture, we won’t know without an X-ray at the hospital.”

“I’m not going to the hospital,” Bai Qingqiu said, leaning back against the sofa. Her tone was calm, but her resolve unmistakable.

As her personal physician, the doctor clearly wasn’t surprised by this response. She shot Bai Qingqiu a helpless look and didn’t argue, simply continuing the examination. She rotated and pressed around the injured area, asking in a low voice about her pain response as she worked.

Gu Yining, returning from the kitchen just then, happened to overhear the exchange.

Her brows immediately furrowed.

She opened her mouth, about to say something—only to meet Bai Qingqiu’s gaze, sharp with warning, signaling her not to interrupt the doctor’s examination.

Left with no choice, Gu Yining shut her mouth again, though her clear, bright eyes very plainly spelled out her discontent.

Meanwhile, the doctor finished the examination and briskly took out a splint and elastic bandages, beginning to treat the injury.

“I know I can’t talk you into it,” she sighed as she skillfully secured the splint. “This old fear of hospitals of yours—I doubt you’ll ever get over it in this lifetime. Fine, don’t go. But I’ll come by regularly over the next few days to check on the injury. If there’s no improvement, I’ll drag you to the hospital even if I have to tie you up. And one more thing,” she emphasized, “this foot absolutely, absolutely cannot bear weight again. Do you hear me?”

Bai Qingqiu gave a slight nod.

Once the injury was secured, the doctor changed gloves and took out a blood pressure monitor and stethoscope, performing a brief general check-up.

“Blood pressure’s fine. Heart rate’s a bit fast and your temperature—this isn’t right.” She removed the stethoscope and used an electronic thermometer to take Bai Qingqiu’s temperature. When it beeped softly, the number on the display made her frown even deeper.

38.1°C.

“You’re still running a fever? Your heat just ended—you haven’t even recovered yet, and you’re already pushing yourself this hard?” The doctor let out a heavy sigh, her face full of exasperated concern. As she packed up her tools, she asked routinely, “Do you still have suppressants? I brought a few extra just in case. And your reactions during each heat have been getting stronger and stronger—I told you long ago, if you keep forcing yourself through it like this, something is going to go seriously wrong sooner or later. No matter what, you need to find an Alpha to help you through it.”

The speaker meant nothing by it; the listener took it to heart.

Gu Yining, who had thought she was merely staying to hear about the injury, felt as if she’d been struck dizzy by the barrage of information.

Forcing yourself.

Something will go seriously wrong.

Those words landed on her heart like a series of small, heavy hammers.

She had always thought that Bai Qingqiu meeting with Bei Nanyan a few days ago meant—

But if that wasn’t the case, then how had she been getting through all these years?

The conversation between Bai Qingqiu and the doctor continued, while Gu Yining, the ill-fitting outsider, found herself unable to leave yet unable to stay—rooted to the spot, forced to hear every word in awkward silence.

At last, after giving all the necessary instructions and setting regular follow-up visits, the doctor took her medical kit and left.

Once she was gone, the living room was left with just the two of them. The atmosphere was even more delicate—and suffocating—than before.

In the end, it was Bai Qingqiu who broke the silence first. Bracing herself against the edge of the sofa, she stubbornly tried to stand up, supporting herself with her good leg.

“The doctor’s already fixed it. I can manage washing up on my own. You should go back.”

Seeing her still trying to be strong in this state, the resentment and anger Gu Yining had suppressed beneath her shock and awkwardness flared up again.

“Your foot looks like that, and you’re still pretending you’re fine? Why can’t you just go to the hospital and get it checked properly? What if there really is a fracture?” Her voice rose despite herself.

Bai Qingqiu didn’t answer. She merely lifted her gaze and looked at her quietly, her eyes filled with unshakable resolve.

Yet beneath that stubbornness, Gu Yining caught something fleeting—so brief it was almost imperceptible—a trace of silent pleading.

It vanished too quickly, too well hidden, so much so that she almost thought she’d imagined it. No matter how she looked, Bai Qingqiu still appeared to be the same unyielding person she had always known.

But that single glance was enough to choke back every accusation Gu Yining had prepared.

She suddenly realized—what position was she even standing in right now, to be worrying about Bai Qingqiu? What right did she have to demand anything of her?

Gu Yining broke eye contact first, turning her head aside with a self-mocking, bitter curve to her lips.

“Fine,” she said softly, her voice exhausted to the extreme. “I was overstepping.”

She took a few steps back, reopening a safe, distant space between them.

“Since the doctor says it’s nothing too serious for now, and you can still move on your own,” she paused, her tone returning to polite restraint, “it’s already late. I’ll be staying here these next few days to take care of Xia Xia, so I’ll head back to the guest room. You should rest early too.”

Bai Qingqiu’s lips parted, as though she wanted to say something. In the end, all that came out was a single, quiet syllable from deep in her throat.

“Mm.”

At that point, Gu Yining didn’t spare her another glance. She turned around and went straight upstairs.

She didn’t sleep at all that night.

Gu Yining was jolted awake by the harsh sunlight, consciousness returning to her in fragments after a fitful, shallow doze.

She opened eyes shot through with red and sat on the bed for a long while, her mind replaying, again and again, the scenes from the day before—each one arriving without warning.

Xia Xia falling ill.

Bai Qingqiu tumbling down the stairs.

And the words spoken by Bai Qingqiu’s private doctor—that she had been forcing herself through her heat cycles for years.

Those thoughts mingled with her already churning emotions, leaving her unable to find even a moment of calm.

She had always believed that after she left, Bai Qingqiu would quickly find a new “replacement,” just as she had once done after breaking up with Bei Nanyan—finding Gu Yining soon after.

At the very least, once she reconnected with Bei Nanyan, she would surely reconcile with the woman she had always yearned for. After all, how could someone as lofty and untouchable as Bai Qingqiu—an Omega of her standing—possibly force herself to endure the agony of heat alone?

She lacked neither money nor options. Any Alpha would be more than willing to be with her. Why wouldn’t she choose the easier path?

But reality had slapped her hard across the face.

Not only had Bai Qingqiu not done any of that—she had endured it, brutally and alone, for five whole years.

Why?

Was it because she had become utterly disillusioned with Bei Nanyan?

Or because she would rather suffer than “settle” ever again?

Gu Yining didn’t dare—nor did she want—to think any further. No matter what the answer was, it would ultimately point to the same person: Bai Qingqiu. The very woman she had resolved, without a shred of hesitation, to keep her distance from.

Bai Qingqiu’s vulnerability—something she had never seen before.

Bai Qingqiu’s inexplicable stubbornness.

All of it came together in her mind like pieces of a puzzle, slowly assembling into a version of Bai Qingqiu she had never known.

She seemed different from the Bai Qingqiu of five years ago—the one who had stood right in front of her, yet always remained impossibly out of reach.

Annoyed, Gu Yining raked a hand through her hair, threw off the covers, and got out of bed, resigned as she headed into the bathroom.

She turned on the faucet. Water trickled out, and she cupped her hands, splashing a handful onto her face, forcing herself awake.

The icy chill pierced through her skin, making her shiver, but it also swept away the last traces of drowsiness. She wiped her face roughly and lifted her head.

In the mirror, water still dripping from her face, the woman staring back at her wore heavy dark circles beneath her eyes, the whites of them webbed with alarming red veins.

Looking at her own disheveled reflection, something suddenly clicked.

What was the point of thinking so much?

No matter what Bai Qingqiu truly felt, no matter how many misunderstandings or unresolved feelings lay between them, there were only two things that mattered right now.

First: Bai Xia, whose body was weakened by a viral infection and who urgently needed care.

Second: taking care of Bai Xia’s other mother—the one with an injured foot and a lingering fever.

She could continue to keep her distance from Bai Qingqiu.

But she couldn’t turn a blind eye to a patient collapsing right in front of her, someone who needed her help.

Especially when that person shared a child with her.

This had nothing to do with love or hatred.

It was about the bottom line of who she was as a person.

With that realization, Gu Yining’s restless thoughts finally settled. She stopped tangling herself in unsolvable emotional knots and began calmly planning what needed to be done next.

As she thought, she finished washing up, changed into clothes that allowed easy movement, quietly closed her bedroom door, and headed to Bai Xia’s room.

The little one was still fast asleep.

Gu Yining crouched beside the bed and reached out to check her forehead. It was still a little warm, but much better than the night before.

Insisting on taking her to the hospital had been the right decision.

A small smile tugged at Gu Yining’s lips, her chest finally easing as she took the child’s soft little hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Xia Xia, time to wake up. Aunt will take you to wash your face and brush your teeth,” she said softly.

The tiny figure frowned, rubbing her eyes with her other hand, barely managing to pry them open into a narrow slit.

“Aunt.” Bai Xia called after recognizing her, her voice sweet and nasal, still muffled with sleep.

“Yes, you little sleepyhead. Time to get up.” Gu Yining kissed her small hand. “How about Aunt carries you to wash up?”

Bai Xia pouted, clearly reluctant to leave the bed. And at that moment, Gu Yining finally understood why viewers had always said she and Xia Xia looked alike when they appeared on shows together.

Whether it was her features or her expressions, Bai Xia’s sulky little face at that moment felt like looking into a mirror.

Gu Yining’s heart twisted with both tenderness and ache. A sting rose in her nose, emotion threatening to spill over—but in front of the child, she forcibly swallowed it back. Bending down, she lifted the little one out of the blankets.

Bai Xia immediately clung to her neck like a baby koala, burrowing deep into her arms, her fluffy head brushing against Gu Yining’s chin.

“Alright, alright. Xia Xia’s being so good. Later I’ll have Aunt Han give you some candy, okay?” Gu Yining patted her back as she walked toward the bathroom.

Bai Xia didn’t say yes or no—she simply swung her little legs happily in the air.