Does An Inferior Omega Also Have To Marry First, Then Fall In Love? - Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Fu Han, Why Do You Always…

“Fu Han, why do you always like listening to me sing?” It was a high school afternoon. The grass was green, the sun was dazzling, and the autumn field had a unique scent.

His school uniform jacket fit well. Ji Qingyu brought his guitar. They sat on the patch of green behind the equipment room, where there were few people. Fu Han leaned languidly against a nearby tree, cross-legged and looking down at the storybook in his hand.

The sky was high and vast. Birds circled a few times. Ji Qingyu squinted against the scorching sun.

Fu Han ignored Ji Qingyu, just turning another page of the storybook. He had been fond of reading these boring things lately. The ice clinked in his cup a few times. Ji Qingyu bit the straw. Fu Han’s voice sounded lazy: “The weather has gotten very cold recently.”

Has it? Ji Qingyu continued to drink his cold beverage.

His hand was taken, and his face was pinched. Fu Han lowered his gaze, his movements gentle.

Ji Qingyu knew what he meant and silently placed Fu Han’s hand into his own palm.

That hand was much larger than his. The pads of his fingers and the base of his thumb had a thin layer of calluses. His hand was indeed cold, probably because it was autumn, and he was still only wearing a single-layer shirt.

Fu Han’s profile was handsome when he lowered his head, sharp and defined. He was always good-looking. Fu Han didn’t move, letting Ji Qingyu do whatever he wanted with his hand. Ji Qingyu traced his finger bones, segment by segment.

Then, he suddenly leaned closer, supporting himself with one hand on the grass, staring at Ji Qingyu’s flushed face, and laughed teasingly.

“Why are you always blushing?” Fu Han’s voice was smiling as he slowly observed Ji Qingyu’s expression. A few seconds later, he lay back down on the grass, his hands comfortably supporting the back of his head.

A patch of tree shade fell across Fu Han’s face, casting a light shadow. Ji Qingyu looked at the book in Fu Han’s hand. It wasn’t proper reading material after all, but identical to the one he had been slipped once before. Judging by the style, it might be from the same series.

“Ji Qingyu, you actively kiss me once, and I can give you a chance.”

Ji Qingyu had been taking off his jacket to cover Fu Han, but upon hearing this, he threw it directly at Fu Han’s face.

Fu Han caught it easily. The smile on his lips widened. He propped up his chin, like a cunning wild animal. “Why is your temper always so bad?”

His shirt buttons weren’t properly fastened, revealing a tattoo that made Fu Han look quite fierce. He slicked his hair back. He wasn’t wearing his bite-guard, exposing his two sharp canine teeth.

He grabbed Ji Qingyu’s hand, their fingers intertwined and firmly clasped. He led Ji Qingyu’s hand to touch a non-existent wound on his chest. “See, you’ve made me all red.”

“Stop teasing me like this,” Ji Qingyu tried to maintain his composure, his throat still holding the slight coolness of the finished drink.

Ji Qingyu’s fingers did indeed feel some texture. He looked down. Beneath the shocking tattoo on his chest, there was a patch of knotted scar tissue.

The scar area was large, looking like a burn or caused by some scorching object. The skin was extensively damaged, leaving a faint redness, obscured by the tattoo.

“How did this happen?” Ji Qingyu’s fingertips trembled, his pupils slightly contracted, and his voice was unconsciously very soft.

Fu Han didn’t answer. Ji Qingyu’s hand pressed harder on the textures. The scar was very close to his heart. Fu Han’s heartbeat was intense and strong.

Then, things changed. Fu Han pulled Ji Qingyu closer, wrapping his other arm around his waist.

“Fu Han, let me go. I have class. I need to leave,” Ji Qingyu lowered his head, trying to avoid Fu Han.

“Alright,” Fu Han seemed about to say something, but ultimately didn’t. He ruffled Ji Qingyu’s hair twice. “I won’t be back to school for a while. There’s a lot going on at home.”

Why are you telling me this? Ji Qingyu averted his gaze, trying not to look at him, but his mind kept dwelling on those scars.

“When I return, I have something to tell you.” Fu Han tidied Ji Qingyu’s loose hair, picked up a hair tie, gathered it back, and tied it into a small bun.

“You should hurry and leave. I’m leaving too.” Ji Qingyu stood up, walking quickly.

“Hey, aren’t you going to take your drink, school uniform, and guitar? I’m keeping them all?” Fu Han laughed aloud. His muffled voice made Ji Qingyu feel somewhat self-destructive. He didn’t dare to look back, only walking faster.

“You can keep them. I don’t want them!”

The days of youth were tinged with gold, like the surface of water seen through a mist. When the light fell, everything became somewhat unreal.

Ji Qingyu blinked.

The room was dim. He was slightly dazed. His chest hammered violently. The golden light and shadows vanished.

A hand caressed the corner of his eye, cupping his chin, holding him fast so he couldn’t escape. “What are you spacing out about again? Answer the question.”

Fu Han’s words were like a basin of cold water, pouring down over him, instantly clearing Ji Qingyu’s mind. Everything felt like a distorted stage play. Ji Qingyu felt a sharp pain in his chest, his vision blurring.

So, this was why Fu Han had been in a bad mood all these days. So, the “big gift” Ji Ran mentioned that day was this. Such an absurd claim—why would Fu Han believe it so readily?

The cold wind lifted the white gauze curtain through the balcony. A chilly, negative emotion seeped out of his body. He struggled to focus his gaze on the other person.

Fu Han covered Ji Qingyu’s eyes and clamped his hand on the back of his neck. He leaned down and kissed him, as if to snatch all his oxygen—extremely fierce and ruthless.

Ji Qingyu struggled violently.

“Yes,” he found an opening, pushed Fu Han away fiercely, gasping for breath, his eyes ringed with red. He squeezed out a phrase through clenched teeth, “I did have a child.”

Fu Han’s figure swayed. He stood motionless in the darkness, his hands clenched into fists, his voice low and muffled, like he was interrogating an arch-criminal. “So, not only were you marked by someone, but you even bore his child? And dropping out of school was also because of that person?”

Fu Han sneered. Ji Qingyu’s wrist hurt badly. He wondered if it wasn’t just a sprain, but maybe a bone injury.

The sharp pain in his bones was insignificant; Fu Han’s words were more hurtful.

A deep bell clanged in Ji Qingyu’s heart, startling him, but he also felt extremely ironic. Even someone as proud as Fu Han could be so ridiculously wrong.

Ji Qingyu’s fingers curled slightly at his sides. He paused for two seconds. For some reason, he felt compelled to add fuel to the boiling oil. “Yes, I loved him. We were deeply in love, full of sweet promises. If he hadn’t abandoned me, do you think I would have gotten together with you?!”

“I, I have a low moral character. I’ve been this kind of person since high school. Didn’t you already know that? Haven’t you known for years?”

The banquet hall downstairs was buzzing with activity. The sound of music floated up gently. People were enveloped in an excited, joyful atmosphere. He could even hear some laughter and playful noises.

Everything was like a speck of diamond dust on foam, distorted and illusory.

Fu Han’s shadow was hidden in the pitch-black corner of the room, like a ghost that had lost its soul.

Ji Qingyu was exhausted. He thought, in the end, how was he any different from the Omega who ran away just now? To Fu Han, both were just games without any real emotion.

A huge wave of grief washed over him, almost rendering him unable to stand.

Ji Qingyu turned to leave, but Fu Han gripped his wrist tightly. In the darkness, Fu Han was completely unaware that Ji Qingyu’s wrist was already swollen. Ji Qingyu didn’t want to remind him either.

“So, what was the timing?” Fu Han insisted on digging deeper.

“What are you talking about?” Ji Qingyu’s forehead was slick with cold sweat from the pain. He didn’t want to answer and slightly turned his head away.

Fu Han’s grip on Ji Qingyu’s hand became even stronger. He pressed that hand against the wall, leaning over him, unable to suppress his roar, “When did you have a child with that person?!”

The timing… ah… what was the timing?

Ji Qingyu tried to recall.

He knew he was pregnant during the lowest point of his life: Lin Ying was sick, Ji Ran was threatening him, his studies were incomplete, his songs were stolen, his voice was ruined, and then, he suddenly fainted while working, learning he was pregnant without any warning.

What was his mood then?

It felt like the sky had fallen. He had nothing left, and God was kicking him while he was down.

He fell silent, his lips tightly sealed, unwilling to utter a word. But Fu Han persisted, almost forcing a conclusion.

Fu Han’s grip on Ji Qingyu’s hand was ruthless. The rage in his eyes was intense and obvious, seeming ready to burst out any second.

“Does it still matter, Fu Han? That child is already gone.” Cold sweat beaded on Ji Qingyu’s temples. His lips turned pale from the pain. His words were like a row of sharp thorns, caught in Fu Han’s throat, causing him to momentarily lose his voice.

“It matters. I want you to tell me yourself.” Fu Han paused, then continued with an undeniable tone. He was the eternal superior, the master whose word was law. What Ji Qingyu was to him was perhaps nothing more than a tiny speck of dust.

Fu Han was utterly irrational. The scent of green plum on his body surged into Ji Qingyu’s nostrils. Ji Qingyu surprisingly detected an unsuppressable sorrow in it.

It must be an illusion caused by his excessive grief.

“When was it?” Fu Han’s eyes were pitch black. The anger on his body felt like it was about to consume Ji Qingyu. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Was it the first year, the second year, or… the sixth year? How many years after you dropped out?!”

Ji Qingyu lowered his eyes and smiled blandly. “…It was the sixth year, shortly before my engagement to you. But you don’t need to be too angry. Haven’t I married you already? I didn’t keep her, and I won’t jeopardize the Fu family’s interests.”

Fu Han’s eyes were dark and dim. The strength in his hands increased, seeming ready to snap Ji Qingyu’s wrist clean off.

“The sixth year,” he muttered the three words indistinctly, repeating them several times in his mouth, then laughed—a cold, sarcastic laugh. “Ji Qingyu, I thought you would improve after marriage, but you are indeed just as morally inferior as you were six years ago.”

With such a disdainful tone, Ji Qingyu shifted his gaze and smiled lightly. One hand felt like it had taken his heart, crumpled it like waste paper, and discarded it.

It was actually the first year, right after I dropped out of school.

Fu Han stopped questioning. The two remained silent in the darkness.

Ji Qingyu was the first to react. He disregarded the pain and violently pulled away. Fu Han was unsteady on his feet, his breathing trembling slightly in the dark. His tall figure retreated two steps backward.

Ji Qingyu fled in disgrace. For some reason, he didn’t dare to look into Fu Han’s eyes. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he finally couldn’t support himself, stumbling and leaning against the wall, slowly sliding to the floor.

Looking out from the stairwell landing, there was a nearly ten-meter-high floor-to-ceiling window. The night air was like cold water. Ji Qingyu looked out. Green shadows swayed under the lights.

There were no stars that night. There was a blurred figure beneath the trees. Ji Qingyu vaguely looked over and recognized Fu Yunsheng. He seemed to be arguing with someone, then quickly embraced the person.

It was too dark. Only Fu Yunsheng’s face flashed briefly under the car lights.

Ji Qingyu was no longer interested. He leaned the back of his head against the wall again.

His consciousness drifted far away, thinking again of his child—a girl. When Ji Qingyu lost her, his body felt dysfunctional for an entire day and night. He could only stare up at the ceiling.

At that time, he didn’t know what the future held—perhaps nothing but endless work, medical bills, debt repayment, and Ji Ran’s intermittent calls.

He was lying in the hospital then, surrounded by a bustling crowd of new mothers, the cries of babies, and the laughter of families.

His hand gripped the bedsheet. The light from outside the window was blinding. The sunlight warmed his body, and he felt somewhat relieved instead.

He thought, It’s actually a good thing she won’t be born by my side. She should go to a better place.

He closed his eyes, trying to convince himself.

It should be a good thing, right?

That pain was a hundred times stronger than the present. Ji Qingyu felt that the reason he was numb to so many things now was perhaps because the pain back then had exceeded his threshold.

…

He stayed alone for a while, then headed downstairs. Ji Ran was standing at the entrance of the banquet hall, looking outward, holding a glass of wine, his eyes expressing faint weariness.

Ji Qingyu followed his gaze. Under the lights, Ji Deyong and the actress were looking affectionately at each other. Ji Ran’s eyes were hollow, containing nothing inside.

Ji Qingyu supported himself against the wall. He picked up a cocktail from a passing waiter’s tray and walked straight through the hall to Ji Ran.

Ji Ran sensed something and slowly turned around, looking surprised. A glass of liquor was poured from head to toe over him. He closed his eyes. The sticky liquid slid down, dampening his expensive white suit.

Ji Qingyu held the empty glass, his clean face showing grief. He was like a fragile moon about to shatter, letting out a sigh reflected in the surface of the porcelain.

The elegant music suddenly changed tempo.

The people around froze for a few seconds. Low murmurs, gasps, and arguments spread through the crowd.

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

“It seems the outcome wasn’t good,” Ji Ran wiped the liquid from his hair, tilted his head, and smiled. He was surprisingly disheveled, droplets of water hanging from his hair tips, falling one by one.

“Brother, sometimes I truly pity you. You can’t say anything, and you can’t do anything. How is it? Doesn’t that feeling suck particularly bad?” He didn’t look angry, but rather pitying. He whispered in a voice only they could hear, “People say you strike a snake at its seven inches and pinch a person at their weak spot. That saying is absolutely true.”

Ji Qingyu was expressionless. His heart was surprisingly calm. Some of the liquor dripped onto his hand, sticky and unbearable. Ji Ran was still smiling. Ji Qingyu found it meaningless. He put down the glass and walked straight away.

The weather in Jing City began to cool. The evening wind carried a chill. Many petals of the hibiscus along the street were blown off. He didn’t know where to go and finally hailed a cab to the hospital.

Except for the on-duty nurses, almost no one was around. Ji Qingyu sat alone outside Lin Ying’s ward and realized his wrist was swollen like a bun.

Lin Ying was still the same, lying in the hospital bed, quiet as if asleep. The white light from outside the window cast a faint reflection. The city lights were brilliant.

The plant by the bedside had been replaced with a new, small cactus.

“Mom, what were you thinking in your heart when you chose to give birth to me back then?” Ji Qingyu murmured, confused. His unfocused gaze rested on Lin Ying’s sleeping face.

In such circumstances—forced by Ji Deyong, raising him alone by selling fish—why did Lin Ying still have the courage to bear him?

“Actually, I lied to you,” Ji Qingyu lowered his head like a child who had done wrong. His fingers were twisted together. His soft hair fell loose, fluttering lightly by the side of his eyes.

“Fu Han and I are not well at all. I don’t like being married, moving into a strange environment, always living under someone else’s roof. I really wish I could go back to being eighteen, or sixteen, when nothing had happened.” Ji Qingyu’s voice was still steady, his eyes slightly unfocused.

He sat alone for a while. His formal suit was thin, and the cold air seeped into his body through the gaps. He sneezed.

The ECG monitor next to Lin Ying ticked rhythmically. Everything was as it had been. Ji Qingyu stood up. His hand pressed against the glass, creating a watery mist.

“Ms. Lin Ying, didn’t you say you wanted to retire to Jiang City? Hurry up and finish the surgery, wake up, and we’ll go together,” Ji Qingyu smiled, saying slowly, “I’ve learned so many dishes. I can cook for you. I’ll watch your little fish stall and eat Little Ma’s fruit. Oh, Little Ma isn’t in Jiang City… Anyway, I don’t like this life anymore.”

The cold wind blew in. He was too exhausted. He sat back down, his body slumping weakly onto the chair, his head resting against it. He had no strength. He couldn’t even move his fingers. A cold, damp illusion permeated the air.

The corridor cast a pitch-black shadow. Ji Qingyu closed his eyes. He was completely drained. Unknowingly, he drifted off to sleep.

The sleep was very light. He dreamt of some past events again.

Since high school, his relationship with Ji Ran had gotten increasingly better. Ji Ran would always wait for him at the classroom door, dragging him to various activities. They were inseparable.

Ji Ran was enthusiastic about bringing Ji Qingyu bouquets of various styles, expensive dolls, and meals. He would also lean against Ji Qingyu softly and call him Gege (Older Brother).

When Ji Ran intentionally tried to please someone, no one in the world could resist his charm. Ji Qingyu was no exception.

Looking at Ji Ran’s bright eyes, he answered almost every question, quickly telling him about his family situation, the songs he wrote, and even his relationship with Fu Han.

It was a perfectly ordinary day. The two of them were eating popsicles on the steps of the playground. A few students passing by waved at Ji Ran. He always had many friends.

Ji Ran said, “Gege, what kind of sincerity can someone like Fu Han have? The Omegas around him come and go. He’s just playing around with everyone. Look, that girl who just walked by, she used to be involved with Fu Han. Do you think you can compare to her?”

The popsicle in Ji Qingyu’s hand melted a bit. He didn’t notice, and the sticky syrup dripped onto his hand.

Ji Qingyu took Ji Ran home. Ji Qingyu knew Ji Ran’s family was wealthy. When they walked through the narrow alley, Ji Ran looked around curiously. “This place has so many people living here. Isn’t it cramped?”

“It’s alright. Actually, it’s enough for two people,” Ji Qingyu smiled. “I’ll make you some sliced fish porridge. It’s freshly caught, a quick-boiled fish slice porridge. It’s delicious.”

Ji Ran tilted his head. The smile on his lips softened. His eyes subtly shifted to the side, noticing the stacked small ads plastered on the wall. A hint of disdain flashed in his eyes, but his tone remained calm. He quietly said, “Okay.”

After dinner, Lin Ying squeezed a glass of juice for Ji Ran, then left, leaving the space for the two of them.

Ji Ran sat quietly on the sofa in Ji Qingyu’s home. The cloth sofa was clean, smelling faintly of sunshine from being recently aired.

Ji Ran’s gaze drifted around the small two-bedroom apartment: the old-model TV, the faded curtains, the large red calendar from Chinese New Year that hadn’t been taken down, and the photos clipped with wooden pegs onto the cotton cloth, showing the trajectory of Ji Qingyu’s life from childhood.

His gaze froze on those photos, motionless. The juice in the glass was sweet. His eyes curved slightly, and he said softly, “You’re truly happy.”

Ji Ran stared at the photos for so long that he didn’t notice Ji Qingyu sitting beside him until Ji Qingyu spoke, bringing him back to attention. “If you like it, you can come over anytime. I’ll make you delicious food.”

Ji Ran nodded, a smile on his face. “Okay. I like you best.”

Ji Qingyu took out the music he had written and spread it on the table. He truly liked Ji Ran. Ji Ran was good-looking, had a refined temperament, and was like a doll.

When Ji Ran praised him, Ji Qingyu instinctively felt embarrassed. He wasn’t good at much else, so he could only pick up his guitar and play a song for Ji Ran.

Ji Ran nestled on the sofa. He had finished his juice and narrowed his eyes sleepily. “Gege, do you remember the Omega at our school who was forced to transfer?”

Ji Qingyu didn’t react. The movement of his hand stopped. He looked at Ji Ran doubtfully. Ji Ran chuckled lightly, leaned over, and grabbed Ji Qingyu’s hand. “It’s the female Omega who released pheromones to Fu Han. Her name is Ruan Jing.”

“Actually, that girl is nice. She just liked Fu Han too much and made a mistake momentarily. Speaking of which, we’re friends,” Ji Ran said. “Her family isn’t wealthy, and she relies on work-study programs. Because of this incident, many schools are now unwilling to accept her.”

“I was thinking, could you go to Fu Han and plead for her, asking him to let Ruan Jing return to school? Your relationship with Fu Han is pretty good, isn’t it?” Ji Ran held Ji Qingyu’s hand intimately, his eyes clear and pure.

The stray cat outside on the balcony’s small flower bed meowed again. Cats seemed especially sensitive. Upon seeing Ji Ran, its body tensed, and it let out a warning hiss.

Ji Qingyu hesitated. After all, Fu Han was unlikely to forgive someone who had harmed him.

But Ji Ran was still looking at him.

Ji Ran was so kind to him. Just pleading for her might not be a big deal. So, Ji Qingyu nodded. “Okay, I’ll try my best.”

Ji Ran cheered. His hand was cool. His fluffy head was like an enthusiastic puppy, looking at Ji Qingyu sincerely. He leaned in and rested his head on Ji Qingyu’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to make things difficult for you. You just need to arrange for Fu Han to meet us. I’ll be there too,” He gave Ji Qingyu a huge hug.

The stray cat scratched at the railing, its tiny meows coming through the security window. Ji Qingyu stood up and got it a dried fish snack.

The stray cat gently patted Ji Qingyu’s hand with its white paw, meowing loudly. Ji Qingyu placed the dried fish next to its mouth, but it ignored it and meowed even louder.

What’s wrong?

Ji Ran stood up, smiling, glanced at the cat, and patted his clothes. “I should leave now. You must help me with this matter.”

Ji Ran left. The cat was still hissing behind him as he departed. Ji Qingyu opened the window. The kitten jumped into the room, surveying its territory, then snuggled into Ji Qingyu’s arms, purring. Ji Qingyu remembered that day. A patch of flowers was trampled by the cat. He scolded it a few times in dissatisfaction.

The kitten meowed a few more times at him in disappointment, then turned and squeezed out through the window gap. It left the dried fish behind.

Perhaps all things have spirits, and something was subtly trying to protect him. However, the connection wasn’t strong enough, and he failed to understand the warning in time.

…

A month later, it was another ordinary afternoon. Lin Ying suddenly got a nosebleed at the fish stall. Ji Qingyu rushed back from school to the market and took her to the hospital.

The hospital television was broadcasting the current news: “Multiple companies under the Fu Corporation are suspected of having changes in ownership. The group is undergoing a new round of factional struggles. What impact will this have on Jing City’s finance? Stay tuned for expert analysis…”

Ji Qingyu looked up at the screen. He hadn’t seen Fu Han for several weeks. He hadn’t expected something like this to happen in Fu Han’s family.

He thought about sending Fu Han a text message but was afraid of disturbing him. In the end, he only asked: “Are you alright?”

The doctor registered Lin Ying for a blood test. Ji Qingyu looked at the slip in his hand. It required many tests, which needed to be paid for first… ECG, scans. It amounted to a significant fee, equivalent to three months of their family income.

The hospital was filled with the pungent smell of disinfectant. Ji Qingyu, wrapped in his jacket and wearing a mask, pushed Lin Ying in a wheelchair up and down multiple times. The doctor looked down at the diagnosis sheet in his hand, frowning slightly.

A trolley outside the hospital was knocked over by a patient. The cries of a child mixed with confused footsteps. A quarrel erupted in the crowd not far away.

Ji Qingyu’s dry eyes looked outward. Several people were fighting. Wails, attempts to stop the fight, curses. The light outside the window was cold.

“The results will be ready in a few days. Don’t be too anxious. We see this situation often. Go home and wait for the notification,” The doctor frowned at the slip. “Don’t you have any other adults in your family? Why did you bring your mother here alone?”

“Well, Dad had something to do today. He’s on a business trip,” Ji Qingyu smiled. He tightly clenched the slip in his hand and asked politely, “Doctor, how long will the results take? Will we be notified when they’re ready?”

“Keep an eye out yourself. You’ll be notified on your phone,” The doctor adjusted his glasses and looked at the young man in front of him with some sympathy. “Child, no matter what happens, be prepared. You are still young, and there are many possibilities for your future…”

“Doctor, what… what do you mean by that?” Ji Qingyu frowned.

“Nothing. You should go.”

On the way back, Lin Ying rested against the wall several times, her voice weak. “Qingyu, I have a bad feeling. Let me tell you the bank card password now.”

“Mom, stop talking. Don’t tell me. The doctor just said everything will be fine. Don’t scare yourself. You’re just too tired lately.” Ji Qingyu patted Lin Ying’s back and held her hand as they walked back.

This was the road they usually took, which only took about three to five minutes, but today it seemed endless. Lin Ying’s hand kept trembling. Ji Qingyu simply squatted down and carried her on his back. Only then did he realize Lin Ying had become so thin.

Finally home, Ji Qingyu helped Lin Ying rest. He sat on the sofa with his eyes open for a while. The next moment, he received a call. It was Ji Ran. He said, “Gege, hurry and come over. Fu Han is back at school.”

At that time, Ji Qingyu was naively foolish, easily tricked by Ji Ran’s few insincere kind words. For those bouquets, hugs, and Ji Ran’s few calls of Gege, he paid an extremely heavy price.

He didn’t understand then that this appointment would completely change his life. He never thought that those peaceful days would never return.

If he could go back in time, he would definitely grab his past self and slap him hard across the face, telling him not to go, to stop immediately. But where in the world was there such a good thing that allowed a person who went astray the chance to start over?

Ji Ran arranged a meeting with Fu Han in Ji Qingyu’s name. The location was a hotel near the school, rumored to be owned by the Ji family. Meeting there seemed appropriate.

Worried about delaying things, Ji Qingyu rushed over. Fu Han hadn’t arrived yet, and he didn’t know where Ji Ran went. Sitting alone on the sofa in the huge suite’s living room were only him and Ruan Jing.

Ruan Jing was the same as before. Her black hair fell long. She looked small and gentle, huddled in the corner of the sofa.

“Don’t worry,” Ji Qingyu comforted her. “It’s good that you know your mistake and can correct it. Just don’t make the same mistake again. I will try my best to plead with him.”

Ruan Jing’s hair was very long. Her face was almost buried in her clothes. She kept her head down. Ji Qingyu couldn’t clearly see her expression.

He thought Ruan Jing was just too nervous. He poured a cup of warm water and placed it in front of her. Only then did he realize the Omega was shaking all over.

Ji Qingyu frowned and gently asked, “What’s wrong?”

The Omega’s condition was very strange. She stammered, squeezing a few words out through clenched teeth. Ji Qingyu leaned in close to hear clearly. She said: “I’m sorry.”

“Haha, it’s alrigh—” Ji Qingyu thought Ruan Jing was apologizing for causing him to be temporarily marked that day, but before he could finish, he suddenly felt a sharp pain. He looked at Ruan Jing in surprise. The girl’s lips were pursed, and her features were slightly contorted.

He looked down and saw a tiny, sharp needle stuck in his forearm. Before he could react, he lost control of his body. He opened his mouth and collapsed, hitting the wall head-on. His nose was sore, and he felt a burst of pain.

He thought for a long time but couldn’t understand how things had come to this.

The room spun. Ruan Jing caught the limp Ji Qingyu, dragging and pulling him onto the bed.

Then, she sobbed and picked up Ji Qingyu’s phone, found the contact, and sent a message to Fu Han.

A dense scent of rainwater began to permeate the air. Sweet, sickly Omega pheromones surged throughout the room. Ji Qingyu’s gland throbbed with unbearable pain.

He still didn’t understand what was happening. He just thought Ruan Jing still harbored some intention towards Fu Han and wanted to persuade her not to be so obsessed.

He had no strength. His eyelids were heavy. Ruan Jing trembled and apologized to him again, saying she had no choice, that if she didn’t do this, her family would suffer. She dropped the phone, quickly closed the curtains, and hurried away.

Ji Qingyu was left in the room, his consciousness blurry. He felt his body gradually heat up. Something was going wrong. He gasped like a thirsty fish. Ji Qingyu had always had an unclear perception of his own gender. Even being temporarily marked by Fu Han was just like being severely bitten twice to him.

He differentiated too late and was insensitive to pheromones. Therefore, he never considered the consequences of an Omega being permanently marked.

The door was pushed open again.

“You called me here just for that Omega? I told you she has ill intentions.” Fu Han’s expression was slightly impatient. He gently twisted his neck with his hand, his eyes filled with helplessness.

Ji Qingyu, no matter how slow his reaction was, understood now. He wanted Fu Han to leave quickly, but no sound could come out of his throat.

The Alpha seemed to have rushed over. He was still wearing a suit, two buttons undone, and carrying a freshly bought dorayaki (red bean pancake). “Didn’t you say you wanted to eat the dorayaki from the snack street last time? I bought it for you on the way. Why are you lying there? Where is Ruan Jing?”

Fu Han tried to step forward to check. A dart suddenly shot in from outside the window, hitting Fu Han’s neck. Fu Han’s body swayed. He turned his head and touched the side of his neck twice, seeming not to have registered what had happened before his entire body stiffened.

A faint, encouraging voice came from outside the window. Ruan Jing left behind the words, “I can only help you this much,” and then her figure ran away.

Fu Han stumbled backward, forcing himself against the wall. He tried to push the room door, which had been locked from the outside at some point. He tried to smash the window, but after only two steps, he fell to his knees on the floor.

Fu Han clutched his head, his breathing violent. The dorayaki fell to the ground, rolling a few times and getting covered in dust.

Fu Han let out a terrifying, beast-like roar. The intense pheromone scent flooded the room, overwhelming both of them. Ji Qingyu was stimulated, tearing up uncontrollably.

Fu Han wasn’t even wearing his bite-guard. He had stopped wearing it much when he was with Ji Qingyu.

“Ji Qingyu, what is the meaning of this?” Ji Qingyu hadn’t heard Fu Han’s voice this cold in a long time—so terrifying, like a sharp ice pick stabbing him in two.

Fu Han uncontrollably walked towards the bed. Everything was like a sudden, chaotic event, rushing towards an uncontrollable outcome.

It was all like an unreal nightmare. Ji Qingyu wanted to say it wasn’t him, he didn’t do it, but he couldn’t speak. The only response he could give Fu Han was the higher concentration of pheromones released by his body.

Fu Han covered his head, desperately raising his hand and smashing a glass cup, using the fragments to slash his arm. Blood sprayed from his forearm. He tried to use this method to maintain consciousness.

But it was no use. Gradually, Fu Han completely lost his mind, and Ji Qingyu’s consciousness also blurred.

“Ji Qingyu, how dare you do this to me!” He said this, close to a breakdown, yet his voice was trembling.

Ji Qingyu couldn’t move. He couldn’t make a sound, nor could he see Fu Han’s expression. He felt frozen in the depths of winter, so cold that his limbs were chilling.

Until Fu Han grabbed his body, looking at him with chilling rage.

His lips were aggressively bitten. Intense anger and surging desire attacked him simultaneously. Fu Han had completely lost his mind, becoming a beast governed by instinct.

An unbearable pain shot through his neck. The smell of blood entered Ji Qingyu’s nostrils. Then, a deep penetration began, and an endless violation occurred. Ji Qingyu was on the verge of breaking down. He couldn’t scream, and he couldn’t struggle free.

He couldn’t tell how much time passed. Ji Qingyu screamed silently. Fu Han had actually knotted inside him. The fierce pain crushed him. He was a small ant beneath a wheel, desperately crawling forward, but to no avail.

At that moment, he finally understood what it meant to be an Omega.

He passed out during the violation. Pain surged over him like a tide. Fu Han was unconscious. When he bit him, it was like a beast marking its territory, always worried the bite wasn’t deep enough. His neck was covered in bite marks, layer after layer.

And Ji Qingyu couldn’t move, like a corpse. At this point, he almost wished he were a corpse.

Finally, Ji Qingyu’s face was covered in tears. He passed out. Then, he had a nightmare where everyone left him, and he lost everything.

He woke up drenched in sweat, bolting upright in bed. He didn’t know how much time had passed. The sky was a pale, dark blue.

Ji Qingyu’s heart thumped uncontrollably. He stared blankly at his side. Fu Han hadn’t woken up. He looked down at himself—it was a dreadful sight. He raised his hand to cover his eyes. The pain in his body finally registered.

A soft knock came from outside the door. Ji Ran’s voice drifted in, smiling: “Gege, are you awake? Come out quickly. I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”