Does An Inferior Omega Also Have To Marry First, Then Fall In Love? - Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Saying That As If He Hadn’t…

Saying that as if he hadn’t looked for trouble himself.

Ji Qingyu pretended not to hear and quickly left, ending the topic.

He didn’t sleep well that night. The dry air was mixed with a fleeting chill. His body habitually experienced night sweats, a condition that hadn’t occurred for a long time but recurred tonight.

Ji Qingyu woke up once in the middle of the night. He got up, turned on his phone, and saw it was already three o’clock. The headlines pushed several entertainment news stories to him, one of which was a clip of Ji Ran’s interviews.

Ji Ran didn’t hide for long and was already on a new variety show.

Ji Qingyu groggily watched a few moments and realized Ji Ran was marketing their supposed kinship, attempting to frame their so-called high school friendship as evidence that Ji Qingyu willingly gave him the copyright.

“My older brother and I had little contact when we were young. We reconnected during the summer, actually. He was working part-time in a bar and was almost in trouble, so I went and saved him,” Ji Ran sat sideways, looking unbothered, a smile still playing on his face.

“Coincidentally, you and Fu Han were also at the same school back then, weren’t you? The three of you really have a destined connection,” the host didn’t miss any big scoop, bringing up Ji Ran’s most talked-about rumor.

“Yes, actually, my familiarity with Fu Han was also because he bullied my brother, which is how we got to know each other through conflict,” Ji Ran seemed to recall something and offered an embarrassed smile. “Their relationship didn’t seem to be very good at the time. I remember going backstage to find Ji Qingyu and seeing Fu Han cornering him, seemingly threatening him.”

“We thought CEO Fu and his wife had a good relationship since high school,” the host smoothed things over, changing the subject. “What other interesting things happened between you and your brother later on?”

Ji Ran sat there, appearing somewhat innocent, like a thoughtful and delicate doll, easily stirring up sympathy in others.

“There really is one,” Ji Ran said. “My brother seemed to have offended Fu Han in his senior year of high school and was forced to drop out. My brother was miserable then. It was I who helped him.”

Fu Han seemed to hear a sound. He groggily flipped Ji Qingyu’s phone down, buried his head in Ji Qingyu’s neck, his breath scorching, and his tone hostile, “Sleep.”

Ji Qingyu obediently lay down, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep anymore.

Ji Ran’s words were a mixture of truth and falsehood, making them impossible to refute. He worried about what kind of trouble would ensue. In truth, he didn’t have much ambition and didn’t know why Ji Ran was always so wary of him.

The next day, he decided to talk to Ji Ran. Ji Ran readily agreed, and they met at a coffee shop.

When Ji Qingyu walked over, Ji Ran’s coffee was untouched. He was looking out the window, not noticing Ji Qingyu had already sat down.

“Brother, sometimes I really envy you,” Ji Ran spoke with a gentle smile, as if nothing had happened between him and Ji Qingyu. “Even when you were so down and out, you could still turn things around. Me? I can only rely on myself.”

Rely on yourself to harm others, rely on yourself to steal songs, rely on yourself to create public opinion?

Ji Qingyu didn’t speak. Ji Ran picked up his coffee and took a sip.

Outside, traffic flowed heavily. Their spot was hidden and quiet, with privacy glass outside, preventing anyone from seeing in.

“I won’t go against you. This time was an accident. I won’t affect you or compete with you for anything again,” Ji Qingyu only cared about Lin Ying’s safety. Everything else could be put aside. His tone was calm. “I promise you.”

“Not go against me?” Ji Ran lowered his head, spinning the luxury ring on his finger, expressionless. “You do nothing and can still write songs like that. You don’t sacrifice anything and can still be liked by Fu Han. Why do you deserve it?”

A complicated emotion flashed across Ji Ran’s face, quickly concealed by a smile again. “You were supposed to just be an obedient ornament. Instead, I have to waste energy solving your problems. If you weren’t useful, I wouldn’t let you sit here comfortably.”

Useful? Ji Qingyu was silent. He almost forgot how many benefits the Ji family had received from Fu Han. Thinking this way, this marriage truly yielded huge profits. The Ji family had indeed maximized his value.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” Ji Qingyu said. He was always defeated in front of Ji Ran, with little power to speak.

Ji Qingyu felt that even after all this, Ji Ran still had the upper hand. He quickly regrouped and found ways to put him in check.

In front of Ji Ran, Ji Qingyu always lost, handing over his weakness, and forever having to lower his head. Ji Ran always knew Ji Qingyu wouldn’t dare to disobey. Even this small mistake was intolerable to him.

Ji Qingyu kept his head down, feeling like a dog in front of Ji Ran, one who could only submit.

Without a command, Ji Qingyu would fight with all his might for the bone in front of him, letting Ji Ran humiliate him.

Ji Qingyu never dared to defy Ji Ran because he knew Ji Ran was truly ruthless. If he went beyond Ji Ran’s control, he would be easily choked out like a piece of useless trash.

The coffee cup in his hand slowly spun. Outside, people hurried past, everyone having their own things to do. Only he was stuck in place, trapped in the shadows.

The sky looked like a painting splashed with ink. A torrential rain washed over every part of the city. Ji Qingyu felt a pang of sadness. He ignored the emotion.

“Alright, brother. You’ve tried your best to make amends. I believe you. This was just an accident. After all, you’ve been doing well recently, and Dad is happy. Maybe you’ll be needed for more things in the future,” Ji Ran pushed a document toward him. It was Lin Ying’s medical diagnosis report. “You know Auntie’s condition has improved, right? Just hold on a little longer. Maybe you’ll see the light at the end of the tunnel, what do you say?”

He stood up and put on his sunglasses. “Go back. There’s a surprise waiting for you. Since you’ve done this to me, I have to give you some kind of reward.”

Reward? Ji Qingyu clutched the coffee cup. His manager was waiting for Ji Ran at the door. As Ji Ran passed Ji Qingyu, he lightly splashed the entire cup of coffee onto him.

Ji Qingyu was stunned and didn’t dodge.

The waiter, who was about to clean the dishes, looked at him in surprise and quickly handed him napkins. He wiped his face and waved his hand, saying it was fine.

He went to the restroom and tried to wipe it off with napkins, looking in the mirror. His hair and clothes were stained with coffee. He was wearing a white shirt today.

There was no one else here. He had been calm, but the next moment, his nose suddenly stung for some reason. Ji Qingyu trembled, his eyes felt like they were burning, and a sharp pain was unavoidable.

He repeatedly tried to wipe the stain off his clothes, but it was useless.

When he returned to his seat, water was dripping from Ji Qingyu’s hair. He opened the report. The first page read: The patient’s condition has improved.

His heart ached in spasms. A smile hung on his lips. The photo of Lin Ying in the medical record was from before she got sick, her smile vibrant.

He looked for a long time, over and over.

It wasn’t until the waiter walked over and said, “Sir, we’re closing now,” that he realized the sky had darkened.

Ji Qingyu walked like a ghost. It was dinner time, but he didn’t know where to go. Finally, he instinctively went to the performance hall, sitting alone by the stage. He took off his dirty clothes and put on a costume.

His neck was mostly healed, but today it suddenly ached. Not just his neck, but all the bones in his body were faintly throbbing.

He opened his mouth and tried to vocalize. After trying for a long time, he finally sighed. What more could he hope for? He could barely even feel the pain anymore. Sitting there blankly, Ji Qingyu suddenly remembered what Ji Ran had said in the interview.

Six years ago, Fu Han did cause him trouble. It was near the end of the summer vacation. Ji Qingyu was waiting for Ji Ran backstage. They had agreed to grab a late-night snack together.

Ji Ran was different with him than with others: kind, gentle, and enthusiastic. Unlike Fu Han’s aggressiveness, Ji Ran was always considerate of him. They even shared the same last name.

Ji Qingyu thought that if he had a younger brother, he would probably be like Ji Ran.

Come to think of it, Fu Han was also younger than him, but because of Fu Han’s mature and terrifying demeanor, he often forgot this.

The door to the dressing room was knocked. Ji Qingyu’s eyes lit up. Before he could say “Come in,” Fu Han slowly walked in. He wore a bite-guard on his face, and his gaze landed on Ji Qingyu’s scarf.

He seemed to be holding something, but Ji Qingyu didn’t notice, only watching him approach. Ji Qingyu’s hands were tense, his back covered in cold sweat.

Fu Han reached him. Ji Qingyu finally saw what was in Fu Han’s hand. It was flowers. Fu Han casually tossed the bouquet onto the table and lowered his head to untie Ji Qingyu’s scarf.

Ji Qingyu gave a strained laugh, raising his hand to stop him, stuttering, “W-what are you doing?”

“I checked on the Omega from before the summer break. I didn’t find any direct leads, but she’s already dropped out of school. It’s likely someone in my family was behind it,” Fu Han ignored him, untied the scarf, and carefully examined Ji Qingyu’s gland. Ji Qingyu’s ears were bright red, and his heart was pounding like a drum, but Fu Han quickly released him. “My family situation is complicated.”

“I know. It’s okay.” The temporary mark was about to fade, but whenever Fu Han was near, his body felt wrong—nervous, his heart racing, his gland also warming up. He thought their pheromone compatibility must be very high.

Ji Qingyu lowered his head, thinking Fu Han would leave after explaining, but the shadow remained in front of him. Fu Han cupped the back of his head, forcing him to look up.

Ji Qingyu’s mind was blank. Fu Han’s fingers touched Ji Qingyu’s lips, his eyes lowered as he looked at him. “Have you ever been kissed?”

“…Huh?” Ji Qingyu stammered, his words knotted. He didn’t know what was happening. He felt like a fish tossed into boiling water, rocking up and down, his heart pounding.

Fu Han’s finger slipped into his mouth, pressing his tongue down. “You’re an adult now. You should have some fun. I can teach you.”

“I heard Ji Ran call you ‘older brother’ that day. I’m also younger than you,” Fu Han smiled teasingly, his tone flippant. “I guess I should call you ‘older brother,’ too.”

Ji Qingyu’s mind was a mess. One part of him thought, Absolutely not. I’ll call you ‘Great-Uncle’ instead. It’s bad for my longevity. Another part wondered what would happen if he bit Fu Han’s finger right now.

“Never mind. If I take off the bite guard now, my self-control won’t be good enough.” Fu Han leaned down, playing with Ji Qingyu’s lips. He was lifted up by Fu Han and lightly bumped against the wall corner. Fu Han’s leg was wedged between his, immobilizing him. Fu Han leaned close to his ear, his voice like the most expensive, exquisite double bass, but the words he spoke were so vulgar they were unbearable. “Let me teach you something more stimulating. Tell me if you don’t want to.”

Fu Han pressed closer with his knee. Ji Qingyu was forced to tears. The intense stimulation made Ji Qingyu uncontrollably release pheromones. The scent of rainwater engulfed the entire break room.

Fu Han’s iron bite-guard rubbed against Ji Qingyu’s gland. Ji Qingyu’s hands, which were grabbing Fu Han’s back, clenched and then relaxed. The door was knocked again. Ji Ran’s voice came through, “Brother, are you in there? I’ll come in if you’re free.”

Ji Qingyu was startled. He violently shoved Fu Han away, trembling as he snatched a jacket and wrapped himself in it, hiding behind Fu Han in a panic. Fu Han turned around, looking unpleasantly at Ji Ran.

“Fu Han?” Ji Ran was also stunned, his tone tentative, with a hint of realization. “What are you doing here?”

“Does it concern you?” Fu Han was noncommittal, casually looking back at Ji Ran. The bite-guard shone with an ominous cold light, his body still shielding Ji Qingyu.

The two confronted each other. The air was thick with tension. It felt like a single spark could ignite the small room. Chaos, pain, and panic simultaneously filled Ji Qingyu’s body. His brain crashed.

Fu Han and Ji Ran started arguing, their voices sharp and their words intense. Ji Qingyu only faintly heard one sentence: “Fu Han, have you cleaned up your family’s mess, and you still have time to mess with others? Aren’t you afraid of dragging innocent people into it?”

The dispute ceased.

Ji Ran darted over and pulled Ji Qingyu away from Fu Han. Fu Han didn’t stop him.

Ji Qingyu didn’t understand the situation. He looked back nervously and saw Fu Han staring at the jasmine flowers on the table. His expression was hidden in the shadows of the dressing room, unreadable. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something—perhaps thank you, or something else—but in the end, there was no time to say anything.