Does An Inferior Omega Also Have To Marry First, Then Fall In Love? - Chapter 54

Chapter 54: Luo Sheng Agreed…

Luo Sheng agreed quickly.

“Xiao Yu, can your body handle it? The baby is due in a few months, isn’t it?”

The due date was in late spring/early summer, and the play would only be after that. Ji Qingyu said it would be fine, and Luo Sheng breathed a sigh of relief.

Ji Qingyu then discussed the details with him thoroughly.

They talked for so long they lost track of time. The sky had turned dusky black. Because the outside had been so quiet, Ji Qingyu almost forgot that Fu Han was still there. It wasn’t until he stood up and stretched that he suddenly remembered.

He pushed the bedroom door open. The living room was quiet, not looking like anyone was there.

Ji Qingyu was slightly surprised. Looking over, he saw Fu Han with a cold expression, completely slumped on the sofa. Ji Qingyu looked closely and saw that Fu Han was clutching one of his shirts.

“Fu Han, are you a pervert?” Ji Qingyu picked up the clothes hanger by the balcony to poke him. “Give me back my shirt.”

Fu Han gripped the shirt tightly, his eyes looking somewhat wronged, and he muttered lowly, “You won’t even give me the shirt.”

Fu Han batted the clothes hanger away and yanked Ji Qingyu back abruptly. His teeth pressed close to Ji Qingyu’s neck. He grabbed Ji Qingyu fiercely and menacingly, but in the end, he only buried his head in Ji Qingyu’s neck and sighed.

Ji Qingyu shivered, trying to push him away but couldn’t. It was then he realized that Fu Han’s state was indeed a bit abnormal. He was cold all over.

He felt Fu Han’s forehead. Fine beads of sweat were visible, and his entire body was burning. The hand clamped around Ji Qingyu’s waist tightened even more, letting out a dangerous low moan.

A finger pressed hard on Ji Qingyu’s gland. Ji Qingyu trembled twice and felt his legs weaken.

Ji Qingyu felt like a piece of tender meat, so powerless in front of the Alpha in heat. He wanted to escape. He took two steps out, but Fu Han’s hand gripped his thigh, pulling him back forcefully.

The scent of green plums, laced with intense desire, overwhelmed the air.

“I just want some space. Give me some time to think clearly. Stop constantly clinging to me,” Ji Qingyu tried to pull the other person off him.

Fu Han hugged him even tighter. His body was too cold, and his eyes looked like they were about to melt. He looked up at Ji Qingyu with a wronged expression. It was dark, and Ji Qingyu could only clearly see Fu Han’s handsome and captivating face.

Ji Qingyu hesitated for a few seconds, then relaxed his body, giving up the struggle and letting him hold him.

Only after more than ten minutes did Fu Han let go.

“Are you done hugging?” Ji Qingyu patted his back and asked flatly.

It seemed to be snowing outside the window. Fu Han felt cold. “What exactly do you want? You just know I can’t live without you, that’s why you’re treating me like this, isn’t it?”

Ji Qingyu was speechless. The green plum scent in the air was still strong, making him feel uncomfortable too, his body craving the other person. Yet, his words were still emotionally detached. “Don’t always be so paranoid.”

“Then will you forgive me? When will you forgive me?” Fu Han asked this question repeatedly, as if he would never tire of it. Ji Qingyu sighed.

“Did you make something? It smells good,” Ji Qingyu changed the subject, looking slowly towards the kitchen, where something seemed to be boiling in a pot.

“Taro milk tea.” Fu Han pursed his lips, held Ji Qingyu’s hand, licked the back of Ji Qingyu’s neck, and began kneading his body restlessly. Ji Qingyu slapped his hand away. Fu Han then started saying, “I feel so unwell.”

“If you feel unwell, you can find someone outside,” Ji Qingyu was getting heated up from the kneading, his voice softly scattering near Fu Han’s ear.

“Who the hell else can I find? I don’t have anyone else. I only have you,” Fu Han said. “I spent the whole afternoon figuring out how to cook this milk tea, and I was afraid of disturbing your work, yet you still doubt me.”

“But…” Ji Qingyu tried to interrupt, remembering something.

“No. Only you. Who else could I possibly look at? Fine, just torment me. Torment me all you want.” Fu Han hugged Ji Qingyu, crushing the entire person into his embrace.

Ji Qingyu’s nasal cavity was filled with the scent of green plums. That was what he couldn’t stand most about Fu Han—his pheromones became unstable with any emotional fluctuation. Now that his glands were healed, he couldn’t remain indifferent. He truly still hated the emotional volatility between Alpha and Omega.

He gave Fu Han’s back a symbolic pat, then sighed again. His body released the scent of damp rain, carrying an intent to soothe.

He closed his eyes and asked softly, “Does this make you feel better?”

“This is what you do. You’re nice to me, then push me away, then toss me a bit of charity when I’m hurting. Am I a dog, that you’re leading me around like this?” Fu Han accused him again.

“I… I didn’t mean that,” Ji Qingyu said, touching Fu Han’s hair with a hint of guilt, exhaling.

“Lead me around then, lead me hard. Throw whatever you have at me, as long as you don’t go looking for anyone else. Lead me until your anger is gone.” Fu Han buried his head in Ji Qingyu’s chest.

Fu Han’s pheromones wrapped around Ji Qingyu, making him feel a bit comfortable. The Alpha’s pheromones, besides the sadness, also carried a strong soothing quality. Ji Qingyu felt relaxed and unknowingly fell asleep in Fu Han’s arms.

When he woke up, he felt sore all over. Fu Han was holding him, maintaining a stiff posture, his head bowed on the sofa, also resting.

Ji Qingyu noticed Fu Han’s face was pale. He reached out to touch it. The other person’s face was finally less cold. He tried to release a higher concentration of pheromones, and Fu Han’s tightly furrowed brow slowly relaxed.

The phone next to him was set to silent by Fu Han, showing over a dozen missed calls. Ji Qingyu patted him, stiffly stood up, and wondered if Fu Han had done anything while he was asleep.

“Get up. Has your taro milk tea boiled down completely?” Ji Qingyu asked slowly. “Sleeping with the stove on, what if we both died here?”

Fu Han slowly recovered, gradually waking up. “I didn’t… I was too tired. It won’t happen next time.”

“You say ‘it won’t happen next time’ for everything you do.” Ji Qingyu smiled, went to the kitchen, and poured the milk tea out of the pot. The lid was on, and about a third was left. Thankfully, it hadn’t burned the bottom.

Fu Han watched from behind, wrapping his arms around Ji Qingyu from the back, resting his chin on Ji Qingyu’s shoulder. He held Ji Qingyu entirely in his embrace, his voice thick with the nasal congestion of just waking up. “I mean it this time. I’ve never failed to deliver on something I promise. It truly won’t happen next time.”

“Alright.” Ji Qingyu served the remaining milk tea. Fu Han mashed the steamed taro nearby. Ji Qingyu, however, had no intention of drinking it. He handed all the milk tea to Fu Han and then pushed the person out of the room.

Fu Han looked at Ji Qingyu in confusion.

“It’s your milk tea. You deal with it yourself,” Ji Qingyu said, about to close the door. He just remembered that the venue arrangements hadn’t been finalized. He probably had more work to do, and Fu Han sticking around would only delay things.

“I spent the whole day cooking it,” Fu Han said. “Ji Qingyu, I feel like I’m courting you all over again. You’re too difficult to chase.”

“Did you ever court me?” Ji Qingyu asked, slightly confused. He tilted his head, letting his hair fall. His hair had grown longer, making him look more unkempt and slightly vacant. Fu Han reached out to touch it, and the hair scattered under his fingertips.

“Have a little,” Fu Han tried to put the milk tea back into Ji Qingyu’s hand. Ji Qingyu shook his head and closed the door.

Besides Luo Sheng, he had called Yu Yue and Nannan, and he specifically notified Ma Yu, inviting him to see their performance. Sure enough, the theater manager had called an hour ago and left a voicemail asking him to come over. He missed the call.

He immediately called back. The person said they were about to leave for a business trip out of town and could meet at the theater in two hours. So, Ji Qingyu hurriedly grabbed his jacket and rushed out.

The bedroom was quiet and a bit cold. Ji Qingyu looked out the window and saw that Fu Han’s car was still parked in the same spot.

As if he would never leave, always remaining right there.

Ji Qingyu watched for a while. He had randomly put on a padded jacket. The house wasn’t heated yet, so he had to dress warmly indoors.

He grabbed all his belongings and left. Downstairs, he saw Fu Han smoking again. He was leaning against the car, looking lonely yet handsome, with reddish marks on his fingertips. The wind blew, and his eyes melted into the night.

“You should leave. I need to go out. If you stay here, what about your company business?” Ji Qingyu couldn’t walk around him. The other person was already walking towards him.

Fu Han picked up Ji Qingyu and put him into the car.

“Where are you going? I’ll drive you. Otherwise, you won’t be getting out of this alley.”

Ji Qingyu paused, then turned his head and gave a location. “The theater near Tianwen Mountain.”

Fu Han froze, not realizing the other person would actually name a place. After a moment, he slowly reacted, uttering a dazed “Oh,” and started the car.

Halfway there, Ji Qingyu pulled out an old thermos cup from his bag and handed it to Fu Han. “It’s so cold today. Drink some warm water. And tomorrow, don’t come over.”

“You only brought me water, not even ginger tea,” Fu Han muttered quietly.

Silence fell in the car again. The road was predictably jammed. The traffic in Jingshi was as bad as ever. Fu Han impatiently honked several times until Ji Qingyu turned on the radio, and he quieted down.

When they got out of the car, Fu Han wrapped his scarf around Ji Qingyu. Ji Qingyu felt his cold hands. “Remember to drink the water.”

Ji Qingyu said, then got out of the car.

The horn beeped a few times behind him. Ji Qingyu looked back. In the cold night, the streetlights shone on Fu Han, making him look like a pale and aloof snowman. Fu Han leaned against the car window, turning his face slightly to look at Ji Qingyu, his eyes filled with thick, unmelting attachment.

“I’ve thought of many names for the child: Le, An, Ning. What do you think is best?”

“I don’t know. I can only write songs. I’m not very good at naming.”

“Then choose one from these names of mine?”

“We’ll talk about it later.” Ji Qingyu wrapped the scarf tightly. He seemed to know Fu Han wouldn’t leave and no longer bothered saying things like don’t wait for me. He walked toward the theater alone.