Does An Inferior Omega Also Have To Marry First, Then Fall In Love? - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: If God Has a Very Favorited…

If God has a very favored person, then naturally there must be a very disliked person. Ji Qingyu felt that he must have committed some heinous crime in his previous life to offend God.

Ji Qingyu turned off his phone, remaining stunned in place for a few seconds until his thoughts were interrupted by the doctor. The doctor stood before him, politely calling him, saying he had received a notification from Fu Han and had come to brief him on the pre-operative matters.

“An Omega’s gland is very fragile and can only undergo one gland surgery in a lifetime. Your gland has been in a chronically swollen state, and your endocrine system is disordered, so recovery may be very slow.”

Ji Qingyu thought that Fu Han was probably planning to leave him at home to fend for himself. It seemed he had truly disgusted Fu Han back then, so much so that Fu Han was unwilling to even mark him.

A few more entertainment news articles popped up in his phone’s window.

The comment section was almost entirely occupied by Ji Ran’s fans, with visible orchestrated control from trolls. As a star who had been red for five or six years, Ji Ran’s fan appeal was significant.

The top-rated comment, with tens of thousands of likes, read: “Ranran said it’s not him getting married, it’s his brother.”

“Ranran is an only child, where did a brother come from?”

“It seems he’s an illegitimate child…”

“Huh? An illegitimate child wants to steal Ranran’s things? Is he crazy?”

He watched the fans and onlookers heatedly discuss. No matter where Ji Ran was placed in the narrative, Ji Qingyu himself was always the malicious supporting character, while Fu Han was the unreachable, exalted moon. It seemed that whoever possessed him had the opportunity to change their fate against all odds.

But all of Ji Qingyu’s misfortunes began the day he was bitten on the gland by Fu Han. To speak of changing fate, it was Fu Han who laid dry firewood on his destiny, which Ji Ran then set ablaze, burning it into a handful of ashes.

Fu Han was always a cruel and vengeful person. In high school, his power was hollowed out by his uncle within the family, and he even failed to inherit the family estate. Yet, within a few years, he slowly took down his uncle and seized the position himself.

He ruthlessly and bloodily purged the old officials one by one, completely overhauling the entire conglomerate, holding it firmly in his hand.

The media hailed him as an ambitious reformer, and those who hated him far outnumbered those who loved him. In recent years, Ji Qingyu often saw him in financial newspapers. Fu Han had changed greatly, no longer easily showing his emotions.

Now, as the head of the Fu family, he was not only a famous young diamond bachelor but also the helmsman of a billion-dollar commercial empire.

Ji Ran’s fans initially celebrated with great fanfare. Only later, when they learned that Fu Han was marrying someone else, did the tide of public opinion quickly turn.

Vicious curses poured onto Ji Qingyu, like small pebbles—they didn’t hurt at first, but in large numbers, they could injure. However, Ji Qingyu had developed a thick skin. He didn’t care about irrelevant words. He had always cared little for things, with his family being first and music second. Other things seemed rarely able to truly make him sad.

“That illegitimate child is just picking up what Ranran didn’t want.”

“Ranran said he and his brother have a very good relationship. If their relationship is so good, why steal Ranran’s boyfriend?”

“What sincerity could a person like that have? They must be plotting something evil.”

A good relationship? Ji Qingyu felt like laughing at these words. Their relationship was indeed very good in high school. Ji Qingyu had never had any particularly close friends growing up. When Ji Ran suddenly approached him, he quickly offered his sincere heart.

Thinking back now, he truly was foolish.

Ji Qingyu leaned against the hospital wall, his eyes still fixed on his mother’s room. When he didn’t have classes, he could sit here for an entire afternoon.

Lin Ying’s eyes were closed. The white mist in the oxygen mask appeared and disappeared. Ji Qingyu slowly blinked. How much he hoped she could wake up the next second. Since Lin Ying developed brain cancer, causing nerve infarction, she had been lying here for six years.

If she woke up, Ji Qingyu didn’t know how to tell her everything that had happened in these years.

He forced a smile at Lin Ying, but couldn’t maintain it. He felt exhausted. Lowering his head, his hair obscured his vision. He closed his eyes and vaguely rested in the seat.

This floor was very quiet, with few people around.

Ji Qingyu kept thinking about that friend request. He remembered the first time he met Fu Han. They were both young then, just in high school. Fu Han hadn’t yet learned to hide his emotions. The inherent arrogance and his undisguised disgust towards him were obvious.

It was the summer of his second year of high school, the time when eighteen-year-olds’ hormones were at their most rampant. Alphas simply couldn’t suppress their fire and always needed an outlet.

Ji Qingyu unfortunately became the most vulnerable target.

In this aristocratic school, Ji Qingyu was a specially recruited student with a specialty talent, with no one to rely on.

He was also an Omega, pretty, and ran very fast, never knowing how to give in. So, the Alphas not only paid attention to him but also liked to catch him, cornering him like a rabbit.

This time was no different from usual.

He was pushed into the storage room corner of the sports field, overgrown with weeds. The leading Alpha grinned and said, “Isn’t your mom a fishmonger? Is your pheromone also fishy?”

“Hey, want to release it and let us smell it? Maybe if we’re in a good mood, we’ll let you go.” The Alphas laughed loudly, their eyes filled with intense, yet naive, desire.

His pheromone smelled like rain, not fish.

He gritted his teeth, his mouth clamped shut, his face alert and defiant. The Alphas laughed even harder. “I heard you like to sing little tunes. Lots of Alphas like you. Why don’t you sing one for us?”

Ji Qingyu lowered his head, thinking he was unlucky this time and would have to run faster next time.

“Ji Qingyu, people from certain classes should stay where they belong. Stop showing off and daydreaming,” the Alpha mocked.

A hand grabbed his hair, patted the side of his face, and then a basin of water was poured over his head. The Alpha looked down, watching his miserable state.

The water carried the stench of rotten fish and shrimp, which was extremely pungent. Ji Qingyu froze entirely. He was thrown into the cramped, hot storage room like a crumpled, unwanted piece of tissue paper, and the door was locked from the outside.

The Alphas called out to their friends, and their laughing, rowdy voices faded into the distance.

Ji Qingyu endured the stench on his body, took down his school bag, and pulled out the half-written score inside, which luckily hadn’t gotten wet.

Hugging his notebook, tears in his eyes, he gasped a few times to calm himself down. He didn’t have a phone, so he could only knock on the door for help: “Is anyone there?”

“Excuse me, can anyone help?”

His breathing was labored, his chest constricted by the mocking words of those people. His eyes held tears that were about to fall. He slapped the tin wall of the storage room, creating a harsh, sharp echo.

He knocked for an unknown amount of time until he was utterly exhausted, sweat clinging to his eyes. He decided to curl up in the corner of the storage room to rest when suddenly, the sound of a lock opening came from the door.

Click. Dazzling light streamed in.

Ji Qingyu squinted, completely stiff, looking at that handsome face.

The person who arrived frowned, the lower half of his face covered by a muzzle. His hair was casually ruffled, messy and laid-back, carrying a sleepy weariness.

He stood against the light by the door, his eyes appearing deep and beautiful. One hand was resting on the iron door—the lock had been snapped off by sheer force.

Ji Qingyu felt his heart clench. The person was silent for two seconds before slowly and irritably uttering, “Why are you making so much noise?”

Ji Qingyu choked up, stunned in place, unsure whether to say thank you or sorry.

Fu Han stared at Ji Qingyu’s face, expressionless. After a moment, he raised his hand to cover his nose, his brow furrowed even tighter.

“You…” Ji Qingyu wanted to say thank you, but as he was about to speak, the other person turned and left without any hesitation, as if he were a source of contamination.

As if he couldn’t stand another second.

That was their first encounter.

Ji Qingyu stared blankly at Fu Han’s retreating figure. The back was broad, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist, like a lazy, poised leopard ready to strike.

He was stunned. Water droplets from his hair slowly fell onto his eyelids, blurring his vision. After a long while, as if waking from a dream, he raised his hand and sniffed the fishy smell on his body, his ears burning hot with embarrassment.

If Fu Han was a bird in the sky, at the very top of the high school food chain, then he was a stray weed by the roadside. No one would know if the bird came down to feed and accidentally trampled him to death.

After such a brief interaction, their paths should have diverged like two straight lines, growing further apart after the intersection.

But neither Ji Qingyu nor the group of Alphas expected that the storage room roof had become Fu Han’s newly chosen spot for his midday nap.

So, the next time Ji Qingyu was cornered, the Alphas still chose this spot as their place of torment.

The Alphas were making a lot of noise.

This time they didn’t bring foul water but a live fish.

The fish’s scales were slippery, and its tail thrashed, struggling in the Alpha’s hands, looking somewhat bloody.

“I bought this especially for you. You still have a choice now. Release your pheromones and let us smell them, let us brothers have a good time, and we’ll let you go.”

These people pinned him down, their fingers raking into his hair like pulling weeds, forcing his head down. They acted brazenly in front of Ji Qingyu, making no effort to hide their cruelty.

“I’ll let you smell it. Let go of me first, let go.”

The Alpha clicked his tongue and snorted, “Wouldn’t it have been better if you were this obedient earlier?”

“You’re too far away,” Ji Qingyu’s voice was slightly breathless. The Alpha suddenly noticed how pleasant Ji Qingyu’s voice actually was. “Come closer, and I’ll let you smell it.”

Ji Qingyu was so nervous he could barely breathe, but he still kept his face tense. The Alpha considered it for a moment, then walked over, leaning in front of him.

Ji Qingyu was extremely uncomfortable. The Alpha in front of him carried a difficult-to-hide odor of pheromones that made him feel nauseous. When the Alpha was closest, he violently slammed his head into the Alpha’s nose.

Nosebleed gushed from the Alpha’s nostrils. The Alpha yelled, crying out in pain, covering his nose with both hands and hunching over.

Ji Qingyu took the opportunity to desperately try to run out, but his body was unbalanced, and the Alpha slammed him against the iron wall with a clang, producing a harsh buzzing sound.

The humiliated Alpha walked toward him step by step, ordering the two people nearby to pry open his mouth.

Ji Qingyu’s hands were weakly restrained. He felt dizzy, perhaps suffering from heatstroke. The fish got closer and closer. The Alphas grabbed his chin, preventing him from moving.

Ji Qingyu felt a breakdown coming. Fear climbed his spine and spread throughout his body.

Ji Qingyu kept dodging and shouting for help, “Can someone save me, help! Cough, cough, save me!”

The Alphas also grew more agitated. One of them punched Ji Qingyu in the stomach. Ji Qingyu couldn’t speak. The Alpha cursed under his breath, “Can’t you save us some strength on a hot day like this?”

Ji Qingyu panted continuously. The storage room door was not closed, and the sun cast a long, glaring spot on the floor. A shadow stood there, and on the face in the shadow was a cage-like muzzle.

A vague premonition rose in Ji Qingyu’s heart. His heart tightened.

The half-open door of the storage room was slammed wide open with a bang. Fu Han stood there, holding a broken stool.

Ji Qingyu pressed his back against the wall, his heart pounding violently, nearly jumping out of his chest.

The chair scraped the ground, making an awful noise.

Fu Han was issuing a harsh warning, “If you don’t want to die, hurry up and get out.”

“Fu, Fu Han… We didn’t know you were here.”

The Alphas suddenly became panic-stricken. They cowered, like defeated wolves submitting to the wolf king. Ji Qingyu could even hear their nervous, heavy breathing.

So that was Fu Han.

Ji Qingyu had heard that name more than once.

Fu Han’s name was like a symbol of terror throughout the school, not only because of his prominent family background but more because of his combative and cruel nature. Even Alphas were generally unwilling to provoke him to avoid endless retaliation.

Ji Qingyu’s eyes were fixed on him. He shrank into the corner, hugging his arms, trying to minimize his presence.

Only the two of them remained in the room.

Fu Han walked closer.

Ji Qingyu wanted to say thank you; after all, Fu Han had saved him twice. He looked up. Just as he was about to speak, Fu Han leaned in and sniffed his neck.

He tensed up, slowed his breathing, and heard a malicious sneer: “No fishy smell today.”

“…But still just as annoying.”

Fu Han straightened up and stepped on Ji Qingyu’s shoulder, crushing him straight down. The corner of his mouth curved, and his voice returned to its steady, indifferent coldness.

Ji Qingyu’s breathing became difficult, all the blood in his body seemed to freeze. He tried to push Fu Han’s foot away, but it was practically immovable.

Fu Han nudged Ji Qingyu’s temple with his toe.

“You didn’t think I came specifically to save you, did you?” Fu Han grabbed Ji Qingyu’s neck, lifted him up, and forced Ji Qingyu to look at him. Those cold eyes reflected Ji Qingyu’s panicked face. If he had a choice, Ji Qingyu would have preferred to eat that fish himself.

“You’ve disturbed my nap twice. If you dare to make noise around here again, I’ll lock you in here for three days and three nights until you die here and no one comes to save you.”

Ji Qingyu’s hand gripped Fu Han’s wrist, hoping he would let go. He gradually couldn’t breathe, his toes lifted off the ground. For a moment, he even felt like he was about to die.

“Do you understand? Nod if you understand.”

Ji Qingyu quickly and weakly nodded.

“Now scram. Get far away from here.” Fu Han mercifully released him. Ji Qingyu gasped for the hard-won air and stumbled out the door.

The time was too distant. Everything felt like an unreal dream. Ji Qingyu held his phone, and the doctor patted his shoulder.

“Mr. Ji, what’s wrong? Your forehead is covered in sweat.” Probably thinking Ji Qingyu was nervous about the surgery, the doctor comforted him, “You don’t need to worry too much. This is a very minor, minimally invasive surgery. The technology for gland surgery is already very mature. Besides the long recovery period, you don’t need to worry about anything else.”

Ji Qingyu woke up as if from a dream and smiled at the doctor.

The doctor sighed: “You young people just don’t take care of yourselves. Is a permanent mark something that should be given away so easily? Let’s go, Mr. Ji. It’s too late to say anything now. You need to come with me for the pre-operative physical examination.”

So Ji Qingyu stood up, tapped the “Accept” button on his phone.

Fu Han had nothing to say to him; that was expected.

Ji Qingyu didn’t speak either. He silently put his phone back in his pocket and followed the doctor.