Does An Inferior Omega Also Have To Marry First, Then Fall In Love? - Chapter 57

Chapter 57: Fu…

During Fu Han’s recovery period, the two of them moved back to the villa.

Ji Qingyu wasn’t much of a cook. Now that Fu Han needed rest, Ji Qingyu wanted to try preparing some nutritious meals for him.

Following recipes, he fumbled clumsily in the kitchen, instinctively flinching when cooking smoke rose, and his chopping was awkward and unfamiliar. When he finally placed a plate of suspiciously colored, shapeless food in front of Fu Han, he felt a bit ashamed himself.

Fu Han looked down, silently examining the indescribable mass of food in the bowl, then looked up at Ji Qingyu’s tense, slightly uneasy face. He paused for a few seconds, his voice still low and hoarse from his illness, and quietly asked, “What… is this?”

Half of his body was still immobilized, and he couldn’t perform fine motor skills like eating independently yet, relying on Ji Qingyu to feed him spoon by spoon. Fu Han, after the initial resistance and sense of helplessness passed, actually started to enjoy this.

The contents of the bowl were indeed quite disastrous, and a faint scorched smell drifted over. Ji Qingyu paused, a look of frustration crossing his face. He stood up to throw it away. “How about I make you some dumplings instead?” He remembered there were frozen dumplings in the fridge; at least those wouldn’t go wrong.

“To eat them for a whole week?” Fu Han asked. His tone revealed no emotion, but there was a faint, almost invisible hint of amusement in the depths of his eyes.

Ji Qingyu gritted his teeth, tightening his grip on the bowl. Fine, Fu Han was the patient, so he endured it. He put the bowl back on the bedside table and said testily, “Then what do you want to eat? I’ll go learn.”

The malicious satisfaction in Fu Han’s heart was fulfilled. He shook his head gently. “Let’s eat this.” He gestured to the mysterious dish. “You made it. It won’t kill anyone.”

Ji Qingyu glared at him but eventually sat back down, scooped up a spoonful, carefully blew on it, and brought it to his mouth. Fu Han obediently opened his mouth. He ate it without expression, paused for a few seconds, then said it tasted good.

The days passed one by one amidst this somewhat clumsy caregiving. Fu Han’s body gradually improved.

The baby was born on a spring morning. After a long pregnancy and several hours of labor, when the loud and strong cry broke the silence of the delivery room, Fu Han, waiting outside, pressed himself against the wall, his functional hand clenched tightly into a fist to suppress his body’s trembling. The doctor came out holding the tiny infant wrapped in a soft blanket, smiling, and said, “It’s a girl, very healthy.”

When Ji Qingyu was wheeled back to the ward, his face was still pale, but his spirits were high.

Fu Han gently placed the baby beside Ji Qingyu. Ji Qingyu extended his index finger and very gently touched her pink, little hand. The tiny hand immediately curled up reflexively, grasping his fingertip. She was so small, so soft. He looked down, meeting her eyes, which were like black grapes immersed in water.

It was a wonderfully strange feeling, as if the softest corner of his heart had been lightly touched. An indescribable love spread through his chest. He looked up at Fu Han, finding that Fu Han was also looking at him, giving him a smile.

They spent a long time discussing names. Finally, they settled on Fu Ning (傅寧). They hoped she would live a life of joy and tranquility, safe and successful.

After Fu Ning came home, Fu Han often sat in his wheelchair, feeding the baby, changing diapers, and humming out-of-tune lullabies. Little Fu Ning’s arrival dispelled the last trace of gloom from the villa.

…However, Ji Qingyu’s cooking skills still hadn’t improved much.

Wang Sao couldn’t stand it any longer and finally took the task back from Ji Qingyu.

Time passed quietly. Ji Qingyu’s stage play finally premiered. Luo Sheng starred as the lead.

Ji Qingyu watched from backstage, thinking about his music. His fingers trembled slightly. His voice had mostly recovered, and the song was just a simple interlude, yet his palms were sweating from nervousness.

Fu Han noticed his hesitation and nervousness. With his much-recovered arm, he squeezed his shoulder firmly. “Go,” his voice was steady and strong. “I’ll be watching you from the audience.”

The lights came up, and the music flowed. When Luo Sheng, who had been away from the stage for many years, appeared under the spotlight in his dance shoes with his usual light and graceful posture, a wave of unrestrained gasps and enthusiastic applause erupted from the audience.

The traces of time had not diminished his elegance, but rather added a certain seasoned charm. Standing by the wings, Ji Qingyu could almost foresee the sensation this performance would cause in the media and public opinion. The former principal dancer had finally returned to the stage in this manner.

It was Ji Qingyu’s turn to go on. He walked to the center of the stage. The lights shone down on him, feeling a bit hot. He couldn’t clearly see the faces in the audience, only a blurred darkness. But he could feel that somewhere in that darkness, Fu Han was intently watching him. He took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and the prelude began.

The moment he started to sing, all his nervousness and anxiety miraculously disappeared. His voice, clear through the microphone, traveled to every corner of the theater. He felt his throat producing one note after another.

When the song ended, there was a moment of silence in the audience, followed by sincere and warm applause. Ji Qingyu bowed for the curtain call, his eyes searching the audience. Soon, he saw Fu Han sitting in the front row. Fu Han wasn’t applauding; he was just watching him quietly, curving his lips into a smile.

The celebration party backstage was lively, champagne bubbles mingling with the sound of laughter and talking. Luo Sheng was surrounded by many people, a look of relief and joy on his face. Ji Qingyu, as a part of the performance, also finally relaxed. Infected by the atmosphere, he unknowingly drank several glasses of wine. He wasn’t good at holding his liquor and soon became too drunk to control his body. His steps were wobbly, and a silly smile was on his face.

Yu Yue rushed over, hugging Ji Qingyu tightly and kissing his face several times. Nannan tugged at Fu Han’s sleeve nearby: “Brother Fu Han, aren’t you going to hug Teacher Ji too?”

Fu Han raised his hand and stroked Nannan’s hair.

Fu Han had been keeping an eye on him. Seeing how drunk he was, he politely declined the crowds that rushed up to congratulate them, half-supporting and half-carrying Ji Qingyu away from the noisy venue and into a car home.

Once home, Fu Han settled the drunken Ji Qingyu by the bed, intending for him to lie down and rest. However, Ji Qingyu took the opportunity to loop his arms around Fu Han’s neck. His warm breath sprayed onto Fu Han’s neck. Fu Han’s body instantly tensed. The desires that had been suppressed for too long, like dormant beasts, were instantly awakened by this careless provocation.

He leaned down, his lips pressed against Ji Qingyu’s neck, feeling the strong pulse beneath the skin. The unique scent of Ji Qingyu emanated from there, made even richer and more seductive by the alcohol and emotion.

“Isn’t it time for me to fulfill my duty as a husband?” Fu Han’s voice was low and hoarse, carrying undeniable desire and dominance. He held the back of Ji Qingyu’s head, greedily inhaling the scent of his Omega, as if trying to fill the void of the past few months all at once.

He showed no mercy. One leg aggressively squeezed between Ji Qingyu’s thighs, skillfully stroking Ji Qingyu’s sensitive body.

Ji Qingyu was already blurry with intoxication and quickly became wet. His eyes were foggy and blurred as he looked at the Alpha above him, flashing him a defenseless, barely conscious smile, and even tentatively licking the corner of Fu Han’s mouth.

This simple, direct action was the last straw.

Fu Han paused, his eyes instantly growing darker. Then, he suddenly showed the fangs of his Alpha nature, biting down hard on the gland at the back of Ji Qingyu’s neck. At the same time, his arms tightened their embrace, as if to thoroughly meld the other person into his own flesh and blood. It was an extreme way of confirming ownership, a feeling akin to almost-lost-and-found.

Ji Qingyu felt a throbbing ache at the back of his neck. Only when Ji Qingyu was struggling to breathe did he slightly loosen his grip, but the possessive posture remained unchanged. He had finally firmly captured his prey, allowing the other person to willingly and completely fall into his hands, with nowhere left to escape.

…

Fu Han looked at Ji Qingyu, leaned down, and kissed him again, his movements becoming tender and lingering.

…

In a brief moment of lucidity, he saw the long, deep scar on Fu Han’s side. He instinctively reached out, his fingertips trembling as they covered the scar, filled with heartache and complex, unspoken emotions.

Fu Han pulled his hand away, pressing his wrist above his head, and once again leaned down deeply. Ji Qingyu’s mind went blank, leaving no room to think of anything else.

After the frenzy, Ji Qingyu fell into a deep sleep. He had a dream. In the dream, Lin Ying beckoned to him. She didn’t speak, but Ji Qingyu clearly understood her meaning—she was saying she could finally leave in peace.

Then, her figure gradually faded, turning into specks of starlight. Finally, those specks of starlight gathered, landing behind the mountain in the eastern part of the city, becoming a small, unknown white flower gently swaying in the breeze.

The morning sunlight filtered through the gap in the curtains, gently illuminating the bedroom floor. Ji Qingyu woke up to the sound of birds chirping. His body felt sore, as if it had been disassembled and reassembled, but his spirit held a strange lightness and tranquility. He turned his head and saw Fu Han still asleep, his breathing steady and long, his arm possessively wrapped around his waist.

He quietly looked at Fu Han’s sleeping profile. His features were clearly defined, showing the resilience gained after enduring hardships, yet looking exceptionally relaxed in sleep. After an unknown amount of time, Fu Han’s eyelashes fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes.

“Fu Han,” Ji Qingyu called softly, his voice still a little hoarse from the night before.

“Hmm?” Fu Han turned his head to look at him, his eyes slightly hazy upon waking, but quickly focusing on Ji Qingyu’s face.

“I had a dream,” Ji Qingyu blinked, recalling the scene from the dream, a gentle curve involuntarily appearing at the corner of his mouth.

“What kind of dream?” Fu Han’s voice carried the exhaustion and laziness of just waking up. His arm tightened, pulling Ji Qingyu closer into his embrace. His body temperature was high, like a warm and reliable constant-temperature object, dispelling the last trace of morning chill.

Ji Qingyu nestled against him, finding a more comfortable position, and whispered, “I dreamed that the person I love turned into a star, and she said we would be happy for the rest of our lives.”