Chapter 41

The trainees were spinning wild tales, and Lin Jianxi could obviously tell, but he pretended not to understand.

Xu Song’an had been summoned over and was sitting in the farthest corner, silently nursing his drink without a word.

Lin Jianxi glanced at him but ultimately said nothing, continuing to respond to every trainee around him.

Though he had told them this was just their first practical training session, for him it was the last time he would lead them. After this, he would take a long vacation—and inevitably cross paths with the protagonist. Everything ahead was unknown… and bleak.

Lin Jianxi hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol. He was afraid of blacking out, of losing track of what others were saying.

Outside the window, the sun dipped below the mountains, and the trainees slumped in disarray. Lin Jianxi called staff to cart them back to the dorms, then messaged Shen Yuxiu to come pick him up.

A sudden chime of wind bells drifted through the air.

Lin Jianxi followed the sound with his gaze and spotted the five-colored bell on the balcony, faintly glowing in the dim light.

The wind, perhaps?

He closed his eyes, listening quietly to the pleasant tinkling. His weary mind finally had a moment to breathe, but even in that respite, there was nothing but emptiness—a void that left him feeling profoundly alone.

Just like he had confessed in his drunken ramblings.

In this world, he was like a lost soul standing motionless in the middle of a busy street. Cars whizzed past on all sides, and ahead loomed a horrific crash. The entire world rushed onward in a frenzy of motion, while he alone remained still.

Silently watching it all unfold.

No matter what he did, it was futile.

He had tried his best to craft happy endings for the protagonist and side characters, yet things always went awry. In the end, he had stripped himself of everything.

Lin Jianxi didn’t even know what exactly he had lost, but he felt that shuttling through these small worlds had gradually hollowed him out. He was just an empty shell now.

Even if there were people in every world who truly loved him.

He seemed to respond to each of them, yet it was only his shell doing the responding. He carried the weight of those heavy emotions, but felt no warmth from them—only the crushing burden of responsibility.

He slowly closed his eyes, his heart a blank slate, until a faint itch on his cheek jolted him. Only then did he realize tears had slipped down his face.

He didn’t bother wiping them away. Instead, he leaned back against the sofa, tilting his head so his neck pressed against the top of the backrest. His lashes trembled lightly as his hand clenched tighter around his phone, gripping until his fingers began to quiver—whether from the force or something else, he couldn’t say.

The beautiful bell chime sounded again.

Shen Yuxiu’s voice came from nearby: “What are you doing standing here?”

Xu Song’an: “Smoking.”

Another chime, and Lin Jianxi opened his eyes, sitting up straight. He watched as Shen Yuxiu emerged from behind the wind bells.

Seeing Lin Jianxi sitting there in a daze, Shen Yuxiu hurried to his side and crouched down. “Drunk again?”

Lin Jianxi gave a soft smile and nodded. “Yeah, a little.”

Shen Yuxiu slid onto the sofa beside him and pulled him into a tight embrace. “It’s okay. I’ll take you home.”

“Husband.”

“Mm?”

On the way back, Lin Jianxi draped himself over Shen Yuxiu’s back and murmured, “Can you feel that I’m loving you?”

“…Of course.” Shen Yuxiu paused, then added, “I’ve… never felt anything like this from anyone else.”

“Oh God…” Lin Jianxi suddenly said. “Sometimes I just want to ask Him who wrote everyone’s scripts. You all seem to have it so rough.”

“As long as you love me, that’s enough.”

Lin Jianxi laughed, his eyes crinkling.

Hearing the sound, Shen Yuxiu asked, “What? Did I… sound stiff again?”

“No, you’ve graduated, husband.” Lin Jianxi pinched his ear. “I’m happy. Hearing you say that’s enough makes me really happy.”

“As long as you’re happy. I can tell you every day.”

“Yeah. You say it every day, and I’ll be happy every day.”

“What did you drink tonight? I barely smell any alcohol.”

“A special kind of wine.”

“Mm?”

“It’s a secret,” Lin Jianxi whispered. “I’ll tell you the answer in three months.”

“…Okay.”

“Remember to bite lightly tonight, or I’ll use the stick on you.”

“Alright.” Shen Yuxiu lowered his head and kissed Lin Jianxi’s arm. “Hit me wherever you’re not satisfied.”

Lin Jianxi burst out laughing.

But deep down, he thought: Three months… still so hesitant.

Shen Yuxiu…

When will you ever express your suffering?

Why do you never tell me the truth when it comes to loving me?

That night, Lin Jianxi lay staring at the dark ceiling, unable to sleep. Tossing and turning, he didn’t want to disturb Shen Yuxiu’s rest, so he got up and headed to the balcony alone to smoke.

The System fluttered over to him, beaming earnestly. “I’ve already gotten approval for leave from the Quick Transmigration Bureau! Once you finish this world, you can head back to the real world for a few days’ rest.”

Lin Jianxi, cigarette dangling from his lips, mumbled indistinctly, “Mm, thanks.”

“Why aren’t you happy?”

“I am.”

“I don’t sense it.”

“Yeah, I don’t feel it either.” Lin Jianxi slipped on his earphones and gazed out at the pitch-black night. “Let’s listen to some upbeat music. Maybe that’ll make me feel happy.”

The song started light and airy, like a little sprite bouncing around, then slowed to a gentle lull in the middle before building to a joyful crescendo full of declarations of love. Lin Jianxi closed his eyes, letting the emotions wash over him.

The corners of his mouth curved up slightly, his heartbeat quickening as if in excitement.

He knew he was crying, but he had no idea why the tears were falling.

Come on, then.

He thought.

No matter what, he had to face it.

~~~

After the practical training ended, everything unfolded in the shadows.

Lin Jianxi sensed the shifts around him but did nothing about them. He simply took his long vacation in quiet seclusion—lying in bed, waking only to sleep again, sleeping only to wake. The only way to shake off the fog was to drink.

Otherwise, he drifted in a perpetual haze.

On the day Shen Yuxiu ran into trouble, Lin Jianxi was staring blankly with a bottle clenched between his teeth. He no longer cared about his heat period, letting the scent fill the room unchecked.

He glanced at the message on his phone.

—Secretary Lin, come on.

Lin Jianxi typed out the message letter by letter with his fingertips.

—Who is it?

The reply came quickly.

—Boss’s foster father.

—Mentally ill. He’s already been subdued, but Boss… he’s hurt bad.

Lin Jianxi typed again.

—He let an old man injure him this badly?

—Liar.

Silence from the other side.

The Protagonist was as ruthless as ever.

Lin Jianxi forced himself to rally, took a shower, and—in weather hovering around thirty degrees—threw on an especially thick jacket before heading out to the hospital.

He was getting thinner by the day.

A cluster of black-clad bodyguards stood outside the ward. Spotting him, they nodded in unison. Lin Jianxi wove through them step by step, pushed open the door, and came to stand before Shen Yuxiu, who lay on the hospital bed.

Was he really awake?

He gazed at the tubes snaking into the other’s body… and those rare, tear-glazed eyes.

Lin Jianxi knew what lurked in them: love, reluctance, heartache.

Shen Yuxiu had tried his damnedest too—Lin Jianxi just hadn’t realized it. No one knew better than Shen Yuxiu the hell that awaited Lin Jianxi after his death.

Being lucid wasn’t a mercy at all.

Lin Jianxi smiled. He didn’t cry; his eyes stayed dry. He reached out and gently covered Shen Yuxiu’s eyes.

“Close them,” Lin Jianxi said. His voice—clear and laced with quiet relief—cut through the deathly hush of the ward. “Sleep now, Shen Yuxiu.”

Not “husband.”

Just Shen Yuxiu.

It was all over. No point in that hollow title anymore.

To him, Shen Yuxiu was merely Shen Yuxiu—a pitiable man.

Lin Jianxi felt the other’s eyelids flutter shut.

“Beep—”

The heart monitor let out a shrill, steady wail.

“Boss!”

“Get the doctor!”

Doctors, bodyguards, and nurses exploded into frenzy. Rescue meds were ripped from their packaging; the doctor barked orders for “XX” at so many milligrams—a chaotic cacophony.

Lin Jianxi watched it all with calm detachment.

He backed away silently, yielding space to the frenzy, then turned and slipped out of the ward without a backward glance.

Because he knew Shen Yuxiu wouldn’t die.

“Death” wasn’t in Shen Yuxiu’s script.

Lin Jianxi trudged down the street, sweat drenching his clothes, strands of hair plastered to his forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the world still spun wildly. His heart hammered faster, a frantic urge clawing at him to seize hold of something—anything.

His heat was coming on.

Lin Jianxi knew it all too well.

But with Shen Yuxiu out of commission, there was no one to help him through it.

He picked up his pace. Pedestrians craned their necks, turning to stare; his pheromones must have been overwhelming, drawing eyes like moths to flame.

Lin Jianxi was exhausted.

He slumped against a pillar and drew in a deep breath—when a hand suddenly seized his.

He looked up. Xu Song’an.

Worry clouded the young man’s eyes. “Instructor, you’re in rough shape. Come back with me.”

“…” Lin Jianxi’s eyes narrowed faintly.

Xu Song’an clasped his right hand in both of his. “I won’t hurt you. I’ll figure out a way to help. If we don’t handle this heat, it’ll be bad—irreversible damage to your body, even.”

Lin Jianxi coughed lightly, his gaze flat and emotionless. “And what about Omegas without partners?”

“…They find a familiar Alpha for a temporary mark.”

“You want to mark me?”

Xu Song’an ducked his head. “That’s not it—I wouldn’t dare. I… I just want to protect you. Your pheromones are so strong; they’d draw Alphas even if you holed up at home. I’m not worthy to mark you, but I can at least give you a safe place. Please, Instructor—trust me.”

“Please,” Xu Song’an begged. “Instructor, you’ve been the kindest person in my life, from childhood till now. I… I just want to repay you.”

“…”

From the corner of his eye, Lin Jianxi saw the crowd thickening—some rooted to the spot, eyes hungry and predatory. He weighed his options. In this world, Xu Song’an was the one he knew best.

And the kid came from money. Even the Protagonist wouldn’t outright kill him.

“Mm,” Lin Jianxi murmured. “Take me back.”

Xu Song’an’s face lit up with a grin. He drew Lin Jianxi into his arms, shielding his face with his free hand. He bent protectively over him, blocking any view—or snapshots for the internet.

~~~

As an instructor, Lin Jianxi could pour selfless care into these kids without reservation.

But here, in his vulnerable state, he had no energy for it—and shouldn’t indulge it anyway. It would blur boundaries too much. To him, Xu Song’an was still just a kid. During this messy heat, he wanted minimal contact.

It was Lin Jianxi’s first time stepping into Xu Song’an’s place. His limbs felt like jelly; he sank onto the entryway stool to wrestle off his shoes.

“Which room?” Lin Jianxi asked.

“Any you want—pick your favorite.” Xu Song’an crouched eagerly at his feet, slipping off his shoes and even peeling away his socks.

Lin Jianxi’s feet were pale and delicate, faintly bony, with blue veins tracing beneath the skin. His toes held a soft pink flush.

Xu Song’an’s hands faltered; his head dipped lower.

The moment Lin Jianxi saw those lips nearing his foot, he lashed out with a kick to Xu Song’an’s face. “What the hell are you doing?”

His tone was sharp, every inch the stern instructor.

Xu Song’an reeled from the hit, clutching his cheek with a wounded look. “Getting your slippers. Cabinet’s right behind your chair.”

“…” Lin Jianxi drew a soft breath and leaned down to cup the other’s face. “Sorry. I’m on edge.”

“Perfectly normal, Instructor,” Xu Song’an said, sliding the slippers into place by his feet. “Nobody’s level-headed at a time like this.”

He looked up. “If you’re upset, or think I’ve crossed a line—hit me whenever. I won’t utter a word of complaint. Trust me. When it gets brutal, bite me, stab me, whatever it takes.”

“…What kind of nonsense is that?” Lin Jianxi said, exasperated.

“Really, Instructor,” Xu Song’an placed his hand on his knee and said earnestly, “You accept everything about me… I really have no way to describe this feeling in words. I really, really want to repay you, but I never get the chance. This might be the only opportunity in my whole life, so please, just indulge me.”

Lin Jianxi said with a laugh, “How is this satisfaction? This is self-abuse, isn’t it?”

“This isn’t self-abuse,” Xu Song’an said, “I’m willing to be your dog.”

……？

Xu Song’an waved his hand and said: “It’s not that kind of special hobby—it’s just a metaphor. A loyal dog wags its tail when it sees its master. A dog likes whatever its master does; I like whatever you do. It’s not the kind of like with desire—it’s just plain liking.”

When did this kid get so cute?

Lin Jianxi looked at the hand the other had placed on his knee once more, casually brushing Xu Song’an’s fingertip with his finger.

Could it be because of discovering his “dark side” at the restaurant a few days ago? Were you moved?

Lin Jianxi couldn’t figure it out, but he had no intention of asking. Whether he got the reason clear or not wasn’t important to him.

His gesture of stroking the other’s fingertip made Xu Song’an’s eyes light up, and he smiled, saying: “Then for the next month, let me take care of you. Whatever you want, just tell me, and I’ll do my best to find it and deliver it to you.”