Does An Inferior Omega Also Have To Marry First, Then Fall In Love? - Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Ji Qingyu Looked at Fu Han from Ten Meters Away…

Ji Qingyu looked at Fu Han from ten meters away. Fu Han’s eyes were still so casual and indifferent, as if nothing could move him.

Ma Yu stood up, shielding Ji Qingyu.

Fu Han smiled dangerously: “I say, uninvited guest, you seem to be in my home right now, and the person standing behind you is mine.”

He slowly walked over, hands in his pockets, glancing at Ji Qingyu, and said calmly, “Come here.”

Ji Qingyu was completely stiff. He slowly walked over.

A few more people walked in behind Fu Han—the lawyers who had previously handled cases for Ji Qingyu.

Fu Han didn’t speak, wrapping Ji Qingyu’s hair around his fingers and tucking the loose strands behind his ear.

Ji Qingyu felt like a snake was coiling around his neck. His back was cold, and his body was rigid, yet the snake’s posture remained graceful and seemingly affectionate.

Ji Qingyu’s mind stopped working, filled only with what Ma Yu had just said: Did Fu Han look for him?

He remembered that period being extremely difficult. His consciousness was hazy every day; he was clinging on by a thread of willpower.

On the day he returned to school, he couldn’t find Fu Han. He stumbled home, accidentally knocking over a roadside trash can and getting a large bruise on his arm. He felt nothing. A stray cat jumped up and rubbed against his hand.

Ji Qingyu couldn’t move; his body was malfunctioning. He simply closed his eyes. Rainwater traced paths across his face. His Adam’s apple bobbed. The small cat nestled against his side. He lifted his hand and placed his jacket over the cat’s head.

A bit of mud fell from the street’s gardenias, landing beside him. A figure ran over from a distance: “Xiaoyu! Are you crazy!”

Ma Yu picked him up and helped him run home. A figure flashed past, whom he couldn’t see clearly. After some time, dust billowed in the air.

He heard Ma Yu’s voice, telling someone to leave downstairs. A fog covered his ears, and he couldn’t hear anything clearly. That day, the rain grew heavier, an endless downpour accompanied by thunder all night. Sharp arguments exploded in his ears. He didn’t want to listen, covering his ears and curling up on the bed.

Did Fu Han really come looking for him?

Ji Qingyu stood motionless, his eyes wide and blank. Fu Han’s hand rested on his shoulder, still the familiar green plum scent. Ma Yu was forcibly escorted out. Ji Qingyu managed a look of apology at him.

The lawyers walked in. Statements were already being published online. Fu Shi’s official Weibo account posted the details and the handling of the incident, quickly climbing to the top of the hot searches. Ji Ran’s side had not yet responded.

“Mr. Ji, you cannot concede any further on this matter. We have sufficient evidence, so why should we compromise?” The lawyer pleaded earnestly. Ji Qingyu lowered his head. Ji Ran hadn’t contacted him yet. Fu Han leaned nearby, listening indifferently.

Ji Qingyu suddenly felt a strong urge to open up and talk everything through with Fu Han. If Fu Han hadn’t been so heartless back then, if he still held onto some past affection, would there have been room for reconciliation between them?

He still remembered the shape of the forearm he bruised when he was eighteen, just like the shape of their relationship, spanning too many unclear, unspoken mistakes.

He still didn’t speak, merely listening to the lawyer’s lengthy discourse before finally signing the power of attorney.

After the lawyer left, Ji Qingyu pulled at Fu Han’s hand: “Fu Han…”

Fu Han turned around, his eyes shifting, looking down at him.

“You…” Did you look for me back then? Did you want to talk to me too? “You back then…”

“Back then, I was a fool, played by you. Now, I can only ask the person you brought into the house to leave. I wanted to drill a hole in his head. What are you bringing up ‘back then’ for? Were you intimate with that low-grade Alpha while being ambiguous with me?” Fu Han slowly bent down, his lips slightly curved. “Do you dare mention ‘back then’ to me again?”

Ji Qingyu felt like a criminal with a record, unilaterally sentenced to death in Fu Han’s heart. The small amount of courage he had just gathered was shattered, leaving nothing behind.

Fine, he wisely shut up, obediently keeping his mouth closed.

…

If the previous song copyright incident had only a small number of voices accusing Ji Ran, this time, the public condemnation was almost entirely directed at him.

All kinds of nasty and vile words flooded his Weibo, just as they had flooded Ji Qingyu’s a few months ago.

Ji Qingyu looked at his chat box with Ji Ran—it was empty. Ji Ran still hadn’t contacted him.

“Can he not control his fans? A perfect white lotus who constantly manipulates public opinion online, then hides like a turtle when something like this happens?”

“Should an idol be responsible for the actions of such extreme, brain-dead fans?”

“He benefits from his fans, then hides when they cause trouble? Where’s the justice in that? Even if he didn’t instruct it, shouldn’t he control his fans properly?”

Ji Ran read a few comments and put down his phone.

Fu Han looked at the dishes Ma Yu had cooked on the table and dumped them all into the trash. Ji Qingyu wanted to stop him but retracted his hand. Fu Han glanced at Ji Qingyu coolly: “Ask Wang Sao to cook you whatever you want.”

“Oh…”

Ji Qingyu sensed Fu Han was extremely displeased. His phone rang—it was Nannan.

“Teacher, did you miss me?” Nannan sounded cheerful as always. “It’s the weekend! Can I come over to your house to play?”

Ji Qingyu glanced toward Fu Han, then looked down, holding the phone and telling Nannan: “You can come, but your Brother Fu Han is in a bad mood today, so we have to be quiet.”

“Oh…” Nannan said. “But I wanted us to play cards, and the loser has to stick paper strips on their head.”

Nannan arrived quickly and actually brought a deck of poker cards. Ji Qingyu played alone with Nannan for a while but felt uneasy. Nannan rested her chin on her hand, watching him: “Teacher, can we really not go play with Brother Fu Han? Didn’t you say you were the boss here?”

“How about I try? Just one try! I don’t think Brother Fu Han is that hard to talk to!” Nannan ran into the study. Ji Qingyu stayed put for a few minutes. He thought it over and finally walked in cautiously, carrying a plate full of cherries and juice.

He also brought his guitar with him.

“Hi?” Ji Qingyu peeked his head in. Nannan was explaining to Fu Han how to play cards. The two seemed to be getting along quite well.

When he entered, Fu Han’s slightly upward-curved lips immediately straightened.

Ji Qingyu walked over, set down the fruit, and then picked up the guitar strapped to his shoulder. He didn’t look at Fu Han, only asking the little girl, “Nannan, do you want to hear me sing?”

“Yes! I haven’t heard you in ages!” Nannan drank her juice and poked Fu Han next to her with her elbow. “Brother Fu Han, do you want to listen? Your wife is going to play the guitar!”

Fu Han didn’t say anything, picking up a glass of juice and watching him from the sofa. Ji Qingyu turned his face and held the guitar. He felt like the sound of the guitar was melting into the rainwater.

The study curtains were half-drawn. He was in that sliver of daylight, his whole being light and transparent, delicately melting away.

“How was it? Did you like it?” Ji Qingyu’s voice was a little nervous. He smiled faintly.

“Don’t think that will make me forgive you for letting that person into the house,” Fu Han said after a few seconds.

“I’ve told you so many times, there’s absolutely nothing between us. If there were, it would have happened already. What would that have to do with you?” Ji Qingyu’s voice was too quiet for anyone to hear.

“You were marked, and you still say there’s nothing,” Fu Han said coldly, unconvinced.

“The one who marked me wasn’t him. It was an asshole.”

“Is that so?” Fu Han finished his juice, placing the glass on the tray with a clink. “He’s an asshole, and you still liked him?”

“Yeah, who told me I was stupid?” Ji Qingyu put down the guitar, took the cards from Nannan’s hand, and sat cross-legged on the wooden floor. “But I don’t like him anymore. You hit a brick wall once, you fall hard, and then you know how to turn back.”

“Hmph,” Fu Han smiled. “You better mean that.”

The three began to play the childish card game. Ji Qingyu was slow to react and kept losing, ending up with over ten paper strips stuck on his face.

Nannan laughed heartily, warning Ji Qingyu: “Teacher, you’ll have to peel them all off later, and it will hurt! Don’t lose anymore!”

That wasn’t up to him.

Finally, after losing more than ten rounds, he finally won against Fu Han once. He picked up the largest paper strip, which had been taped with tape, and stuck it on Fu Han’s face. Fu Han chuckled briefly: “Getting bold, aren’t we?”

Ji Qingyu and Nannan covered their mouths, giggling at Fu Han, who was saying such things with paper strips on his face.

It was a rare evening where they didn’t argue, didn’t have sex, and nothing was demanding. By the end, Ji Qingyu was laughing so hard tears came to his eyes. He leaned crookedly against Fu Han.

Fu Han lowered his head and suddenly asked, “What did you like about that asshole?”

Ji Qingyu almost thought he was asking if he liked him more now or the asshole more.

Ji Qingyu thought about it and decided he still liked the asshole from the campus six years ago.

He blinked, unable to answer: “Well, everyone has a first love, right? It’s pretty normal.”

Fu Han stared into his eyes: “Yes, very normal.”

Ji Qingyu asked impulsively: “Did you have one?”

“What?”

“Do you have a first love?”

Fu Han didn’t speak. After two seconds, he pulled the paper strip off his face, making Ji Qingyu flinch in pain, tears welling up.

Several more rounds followed. Nannan always won. Ji Qingyu, unwilling to concede, declared it the “final round,” only for many “final rounds” to follow.

Fu Han saw him leaning on his injured hand, frowned, grasped it, and pulled him to lean against himself.

Fu Han looked at Ji Qingyu twice. Ji Qingyu’s face was covered in paper strips, hanging down and making him look like a fool, yet he was still frowning and studying the cards in his hand.

Fu Han suddenly smiled. He leaned back on the sofa, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. Fallen leaves covered the ground outside the window. Fu Han slowly sighed and muttered, “Ji Qingyu, you are just stupid.”