I Married A Proud, Beautiful Omega First, Then Fell In Love - Chapter 12

Bauhir sat in the secretary’s office with a gloomy face, having already cursed Douglas in his heart a hundred times over. Douglas’s mouth seemed sewn shut, refusing to breathe a word of the truth about that night; Bauhir couldn’t write a single word of the clarification announcement.

Left with no choice, he sent a communication request to Qin. “Tell me, if I said Douglas suffers from a mental illness, would that earn him the public’s forgiveness?”

Qin was speechless for a moment, pushing up his glasses. “What on earth gave you such an idea?”

Bauhir explained, “Doesn’t Imperial law have that one clause? Mental health patients lack the cognitive and volitional factors of a crime, so it’s inappropriate to pursue criminal responsibility.”

Qin remained silent for a short while before countering, “Do you think a violent madman General is better, or a mentally ill General?”

The two options were six of one and half a dozen of the other.

Bauhir tilted his head back and let out a pained wail. “Hurry up and help me think.”

He was truly distressed, pinching his red hair as he said, “I’ve been so worried lately that my hair has started to wither.”

Qin: “…”

Qin cut the call.

Bauhir was stunned. Were they even friends anymore?

Their friendship collapsed for half an hour; thirty minutes later, it was renewed by Qin.

He sent over a video.

In the video, a male Beta doctor in a white lab coat pushed up his glasses, a pen tucked into his breast pocket, looking rigorous and professional.

He spoke to the camera: “Hello everyone, I am General Douglas’s primary physician, Qin.”

He gave a detailed account of Douglas’s psychological trauma and stated that the conflict occurring at Douglas’s home a few days ago was not domestic violence, but rather an accident caused by Douglas being triggered, leading to emotional agitation and a loss of pheromone control.

Douglas was not the perpetrator of domestic violence, but rather a patient with a psychological illness—to some extent, he was also a victim.

“Currently, General Douglas’s condition has stabilized. Please do not worry; his current mental state is fully capable of handling the duties of an Imperial General,” Qin concluded.

Bauhir watched Qin’s video seriously, then opened his mouth and said hesitantly, “Did you get his consent before making his condition public?”

Qin nodded. “Of course.”

Subsequently, Qin showed Bauhir the communication records between him and Douglas.

Bauhir raised an eyebrow in surprise, then shook his head. “But this still isn’t enough.”

…

“Right, make the smile a little bigger.”

Douglas sat beside Elan’s hospital bed, his face as black as the bottom of a pot. Under Bauhir’s intense coaxing, he managed to force a slight twitch of the lips.

Elan sat on the bed, his expression also extremely stiff.

Bauhir directed his brain-link computer to take photos for a long time, then said in deep dissatisfaction, “What is wrong with you two? Your faces are darker than a black hole. How am I supposed to shoot this? If I post this, no one will believe you two have a good relationship.”

Douglas and Elan glanced at each other, then immediately averted their gazes in mutual disdain.

Their relationship wasn’t good to begin with.

Bauhir sighed, “Forget it, you can’t force a bitter melon to be sweet. I’m going out to cool off; I hope when I get back, you two can fix your attitudes.”

The moment he left, Douglas hooked his foot on the edge of the hospital bed and kicked off; his chair skidded a long distance away, making it clear he didn’t want to be near Elan.

Elan pursed his lips and said unpleasantly, “You made my bed dirty.”

Douglas glanced over. “It’s just a bit of dust, isn’t it? Just brush it off.”

Elan endured his discomfort and said, “Tell him to go back. I won’t film this kind of video with you. I don’t want my face appearing in the Imperial entertainment news to become the subject of the public’s idle gossip and ridicule.”

Douglas sensed the blatant resistance and loathing in his words, and felt a prick of discomfort in his heart.

He really couldn’t understand this person.

So, he let out a “tsk” and said, “Since you hate me so much and don’t want to appear on the same screen as me, then why must you stay entangled with me? Why not just get a divorce? The marriage freedom practiced by the Empire includes both the freedom to marry and the freedom to divorce.”

“You think…” Elan started to say, but then a flash of irritation crossed his brow, and he didn’t continue.

But Douglas understood the unspoken half of that sentence.

You think I don’t want to divorce you?

But it was impossible.

Alexia wouldn’t allow it, and Contanyi wouldn’t allow it.

The two of them were a bundle of tied interests; they couldn’t separate, and they both knew it full well.

Douglas grew even more annoyed. He stood up and walked out of the patient room, the door shutting with a loud bang. Elan closed his eyes and pulled the quilt up a bit, letting him leave without any reaction at all.

Douglas found Bauhir on a long bench outside the door; he was smiling brightly at his brain-link screen, seemingly messaging someone. Seeing Douglas’s shadow approaching, he subconsciously closed the light screen and restrained his smile.

Bauhir saw that Douglas’s expression was quite gloomy. “What? It didn’t go well? Still throwing a tantrum?”

Douglas didn’t answer his question, only saying, “Don’t film. Just use that photo. Isn’t that photo quite suitable?”

Bauhir thought about it. “That works.”

Douglas continued with a frown, “But you have to censor Elan’s face in that picture. Isn’t there something called… Original Image Element Clearing technology? After processing with that technology, even those highly skilled in smart tech won’t be able to restore the photo.”

“Find your Wood, or Poria; both of them can do it.”

Bauhir looked at Douglas as if he were looking at a monster. Douglas had been hanging around the edge of the galaxy for three years—a place that was practically a primitive society—so how did he know about such cutting-edge technology?

Douglas saw what he was thinking and said speechlessly, “I am an Alpha with a sound intellect. I can look things up on the network.”

Bauhir shrugged. “Fine, I accept your suggestion. But why do you want to censor Mr. Elan’s face? He is practically the most beautiful Omega I’ve ever seen. Is it because your eyes are on top of your head and you think he’s unattractive?”

Douglas complained internally: The one with eyes on top of his head is Elan, okay? The guy isn’t willing to appear on a screen with me.

He gave a cold, hollow laugh. “I don’t want to appear in a photo with someone I hate. Is that reason enough for you?”

“Oh, don’t talk about ‘hate.’ Couples always fight at the head of the bed and make up at the foot of it. You’re just having a spat now; you’ll be fine after a while. Don’t say such harsh things, or you’ll feel guilty and sad when you look back on it.”

“I don’t even know what you two were fighting about to end up in the hospital, and you still haven’t made up. Weren’t things quite good at the banquet before? You were even in the same room…”

To this day, Bauhir couldn’t forget the moment he went to deliver the inhibitors; the dense pheromones that rushed out when the door opened. He didn’t believe for a second that they hadn’t done anything.

The veins on Douglas’s forehead throbbed. “Shut up.”

Since they weren’t filming a video, things were easier to handle.

Bauhir quickly posted the clarification announcement on the official website, attaching Qin’s video and a photo.

A massive uproar immediately swept across the Star Network, and the level of discussion skyrocketed.

Some sympathized with Douglas: My God! General Douglas has actually sacrificed himself for the Empire to such an extent! He even suffers from post-war psychological trauma; it’s too difficult.

Some who had lived in the safe and wealthy Capital Star since childhood and had never seen a planet ravaged by Zerg invasion asked: What kind of illness is post-war psychological trauma? Is it a mental illness or a psychological disease? Is it really that serious? Could it be that he got sick because his psychological resilience is too weak?

Some expressed curiosity about Elan’s appearance: Why is General Douglas’s partner’s face censored? Is he ashamed to be seen?

Some expressed disbelief: So was there domestic violence or not? If not, why is General Douglas wearing a control collar on his arm? Honestly, this evidence isn’t substantial at all. Don’t let this be some excuse made up just to pacify the public.

Some had a very peculiar focus: General Douglas is actually personally feeding his partner? If I hadn’t seen the picture, I never would have believed such a majestic Alpha could do such a thing for his wife! So sweet! I love this!

In short, this domestic violence incident, which was a misunderstanding to begin with, gradually drifted off-course in the discussions of the netizens.

Douglas and Bauhir watched the statistical data of public sentiment on the brain-link with serious faces; seeing that eighty percent of netizens had their attention diverted, they breathed a sigh of relief.

“Alright, your reputation is saved.” Bauhir patted Douglas on the shoulder. “Please be sure to speak and act cautiously from now on; don’t let this kind of thing happen again. I will monitor the Star Network trends at all times and notify you if the public opinion takes a bad turn.”

After saying that, he tilted his chin toward the doctor standing outside the patient room. “He’s been waiting for you for a long time.”

Seeing that the two had noticed him, the doctor walked up with a smile and said to Douglas, “General Douglas, your partner Elan’s physical condition has recovered well and he can be discharged. I need you to handle the discharge procedures.”

“Me? Does it have to be me?”

The doctor gave a nod.

Douglas vaguely remembered that he wasn’t Elan’s legal guardian.

Besides, there were so many people in the Riemann family—Alexia, Catherine, Ivan… who among them couldn’t handle the discharge for Elan? Why did it have to be him?

What a hassle.

Though complaining internally, Douglas still followed the doctor.

After signing a pile of electronic and paper documents, the doctor finally let him go, asking Douglas to wait a moment while he finished inputting the data before they could leave.

Bored, Douglas saw a neatly bound booklet on the desk and picked it up to flip through.

The doctor’s eyes were fixed on the screen; he glanced over when he saw the movement, but since the booklet didn’t seem important, he let him browse.

[Room 402 Visit Records] Visitor: Xiao Yu. Relationship to patient: Partner. Visitor: Lu Ting. Relationship to patient: Teacher/Student. …

[Room 203 Visit Records] Visitor: …

Douglas checked several times before he finally accepted the fact that the visitor column was blank.

203 was Elan’s room number.

He had been hospitalized for several days, and no one had come to see him?

Wait, hadn’t he come to see him? His own name wasn’t there either. This suggested that filling out the form wasn’t mandatory for visitors, so it was possible people from the Riemann family had visited and just hadn’t filled out the table.

Douglas felt he was overthinking things.

Seeing Douglas frowning at that page, the doctor struck up a conversation: “During the days your partner was hospitalized, you were the only one who stayed by the bed, so the discharge procedures could only be handled by you. It’s not that I’m intentionally making things difficult for you.”

Douglas: “…”

With a snap, Douglas closed the visit record booklet and then tossed the thing back onto the desk in annoyance.

He couldn’t describe his emotions; he only felt a bit of a blockage in his heart, and even Elan’s face in his mind didn’t seem quite so irritating anymore.