Chapter 23: First Floor of the Private Residence Part 1

First Floor of the Private Residence

Accidents had piled up tonight. Consul Ji hurriedly tucked his shirt into his suit pants, his expression grave as he pushed open the door to the laboratory, his heels slipping in his leather shoes.

“The Chief wants you to go draw blood from Mr. Wen right now for a full checkup.”

“Got it, got it, I’m on my way.” Hu Li was already prepared and got to his feet at once. The remaining team members erupted into a babble of discussion about Wen Yan’s headache episode that afternoon in the laboratory.

“Didn’t we predict it’d take about half a year for his memories to recover?” one meticulous member asked.

“That’s just theoretical. You have to remember, love may be intangible and elusive, but it’s also a powerful force that often works miracles,” another replied. This one was clearly a romantic at heart.

“The frequent headaches mean the hippocampus has entered the early stages of recovery!” declared the academically focused member.

Consul Ji glanced from one to the other. “So what’s your conclusion?”

“No matter how far the memories have recovered, headaches are a good sign,” Hu Li said as he doubled back to grab his medical kit. “But we don’t get the final say. We need to hear it from Little Yan himself.”

There were blood test results too. With their advanced medical technology, a few milliliters of blood were enough to diagnose every possible ailment.

Third-Floor Bedroom

There was a knock at the door. Hu Li entered with two white-coated medical personnel carrying medical kits. After a quick round of greetings, they got straight to work drawing blood. Wen Yan felt a mix of shame and nerves—he’d snuck painkillers from the lab and gotten caught red-handed by Liang Shijing. He was still wavering on whether to come clean when Liang Shijing rose and came to stand behind him. A steady, strong hand pressed down on his shoulder. “It’s fine.”

Wen Yan blinked in confusion.

The medical personnel were already in motion. They wrapped a tourniquet above his arm, then swabbed the inside of his elbow with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball in slow circles. As the cool sensation faded from his skin, a slender needle appeared before his eyes. He instinctively turned his face away, but Liang Shijing’s other hand was already waiting there. A warm palm cupped his cheek.

“It’s fine,” he reassured him again.

Wen Yan fluttered his eyelashes, catching a crisp, clean scent in the warmth of that palm.

Three minutes after the blood draw was done, Hu Li returned with a stack of reports. Liang Shijing followed him out, only to come back moments later. He sat down across from Wen Yan with a calm expression. Tense, Wen Yan watched him, steeling himself to say, “No matter how far the gland degeneration has progressed, I’ll provide my pheromones.” But Liang Shijing merely said flatly, “You’re the master of this house too. Next time you need anything, just ask them directly.”

“Huh?” Wen Yan’s eyes widened in shock.

What was going on? Had the tests come back negative?

In truth, it was simply that gland degeneration wasn’t classified as a disease… much like natural aging, it couldn’t be detected that way…

“The headaches aren’t your fault. They’ve got nothing to do with you,” Liang Shijing said, bringing up the headaches once more.

“Why am I getting headaches? Have you known all along?”

“Get some early rest.” Liang Shijing clearly had no intention of elaborating. He set two bottles of painkillers on the table. As he turned to leave, Wen Yan hurried after him. “Why won’t you answer me?”

“Figure it out yourself.”

“Can’t you just tell me?”

An Alpha was a full head taller than an Omega. Liang Shijing planted the heel of his palm against Wen Yan’s forehead and pushed him back through the doorway. “So many questions? If you want answers, trade for them with some sincerity. First, tell me where you’ve been hiding these past five years?”

Wen Yan quickly backpedaled. “No.”

“Then quit acting spoiled and go to bed.” Liang Shijing shut the door with a resounding boom. The corridor fell into echoing emptiness and chill, just as it had many years ago… The Alpha walked to the door at the far end and gripped the handle… then he turned back.

“Mr. Wen’s mental state and physical condition are both in terrible shape right now.” Six years prior, Hu Li hadn’t yet gone bald. Trailing behind “him” with the stern tone unique to medical personnel, he reported, “The dependency period caused the reproductive cavity to open too many times, resulting in some damage. If Mr. Wen doesn’t want the child, we’ll need to remove the reproductive cavity along with it. The surgery carries high risks—he might not even make it off the operating table.”

“We could also try letting the reproductive cavity recover enough for surgery first, but that would take at least four or five months… followed by an abortion procedure…”

The Alpha fell silent.

“There is one other option,” Hu Li said, catching on immediately. “Mr. Wen’s main issue right now is his poor mental state… There’s a psychiatric drug that suppresses the brain’s pain-inducing neural synapses, making the person forget painful events. The catch is that long-term use leads to side effects—after stopping, the memories from the treatment period are likely gone for good.”

The Alpha twisted open the door. Crimson sunset light spilled across the room in broad swaths, the air still thick with the lingering warmth of the dependency period. The Omega sat alone by the window, his entire body radiating the intense pheromones of an S-level Alpha’s lifelong mark. His slender back was framed against an endless expanse of green, his skin deathly pale, as if he were on the verge of withering away. He didn’t even stir at the sound of the door. Ever since learning of the pregnancy, he’d held that same posture for two full days without food or water.

That very night, Consul Ji brought in a glass of warm water and a yellow pill.

The Omega swallowed it and sank into a deep sleep. When he awoke, it was two days later in the evening. Clutching the covers, he eyed the Alpha seated at the edge of the bed with wary eyes. “Who are you?”

“Liang Shijing,” the Alpha said.

The pheromones lingered heavily in the air. The Omega peeked out a pair of soft, luminous eyes from beneath the covers, glancing around the room before turning back with a quiet question. “Who am I?”

—Hatred reset to zero that day. And so the story began.

“You slipped getting into the bathtub and hit your head,” Liang Shijing said calmly. “You’ve lost your memory. We’re already married.”

This S-level Alpha seemed utterly unapproachable. His features were handsome and refined, but his face betrayed little emotion, and his flat, measured tone didn’t inspire much trust. Dressed in a impeccably tailored black suit, he gave off the vibe of a top mafia boss. The Omega couldn’t help thinking that if he asked whether that was true, the Alpha might just shoot him on the spot.

“It’s my fault for not taking better care of you,” the Alpha continued.

Driven by the pheromones and nearing the end of his Dependency Period, Wen Yan pulled down the blanket and breathed softly. He liked these pheromones. He wanted to smell more of them. Perhaps the alpha wasn’t lying after all? Otherwise, how could he have received a Lifelong Mark? Amnesia might be a cliché straight out of some trashy TV drama, but slipping in the bathtub was just a perfectly normal accident, wasn’t it?

“You smell like cigars.” Wen Yan clutched his chest. “Could you grab the trash for me—urgh?”

His stomach was empty, so he only brought up a bit of clear water onto the alpha. Without a hint of disgust, the alpha held him steady. As soon as the medical personnel entered, he stepped aside, changed into fresh clothes, and returned to sit down again. “You’re pregnant. Forty-eight days along. The baby’s very healthy.”

Wen Yan’s eyes flew wide open.

“Rest well. I have a meeting. I’ll be back in three hours.”

With those cool, aristocratic words, the alpha left at once. Yet somehow, Wen Yan detected a faint whiff of panicked retreat. That was his initial impression, but he soon decided he was mistaken. The alpha had summoned a team of servants to care for him, along with the gentle and courteous Consul Ji and Doctor Hu, who insisted on sharing his terrible jokes.

Perhaps because he’d been unconscious for so long, Wen Yan felt ravenously hungry. He devoured a huge meal, but before he could properly take in the room, exhaustion pulled him under. When he awoke, night had fallen again. The alpha lounged on the nearby sofa, arms crossed, eyes closed in a pretense of sleep—he’d clearly been back for some time.

Hiding beneath the covers, Wen Yan studied him in secret. So many questions burned in his mind…

Were they married? Had they been close before? The pregnancy and Lifelong Mark proved some intimacy between them, but where was the evidence of love?

The alpha’s eyes snapped open with keen awareness. “You’re awake.”

“Have we been together long?” In the dim light, Wen Yan gazed at the alpha’s silhouette and asked softly.

“Mm.”

“Were things good between us before?”

“Mm.”

The alpha sat on the edge of the bed. As the mattress dipped, the omega burrowed deeper under the blanket and mumbled thickly, “How do I know it’s true? Where are my parents? Do they know?”

“You’re an orphan.” The alpha’s hand found his beneath the covers, gripping it firmly. “So am I.”

Fresh, crisp pheromones flooded the air with sudden intensity. The omega sat up halfway, scrutinizing the alpha’s face. Without a word, the alpha drew him into a gentle embrace and murmured against his ear, “Don’t be afraid.”

That night, they shared the bed, lending a touch more credibility to their “marriage.”

Wen Yan soon realized Liang Shijing was extraordinarily busy. Official news feeds revealed that the alpha was this country’s Chief! Chiefs were paragons of integrity—how could such a man be villainous? How could he lie?

Mm. Credibility notched up another level.

After several days of rest, with his strength fully restored, Wen Yan finally ventured from the bedroom. The slippers were nonslip, the corridor thickly carpeted. Doctor Hu examined him daily, and Consul Ji treated him with utmost deference. He gently caressed his flat abdomen as he strolled the sun-gilded Oak Corridor in the autumn light.

Nausea was all he felt now, and it grew stronger by the day.

Truth be told, he craved the alpha’s pheromones desperately, but he kept it to himself. Fortunately, the alpha held him close every night in sleep, letting him breathe them in. A little delay was no hardship.

That afternoon, worn out from wandering, he reclined on a cushioned bench in the rest area. Pale-faced, he asked Consul Ji, “When will Liang Shijing be back?”

“Well… why not give him a call?” Consul Ji crouched before him, smiling encouragingly.

The line connected, and with one simple question from the omega, the alpha promised to return at once.

The helicopter’s rotors whipped the skies above Oak Bay into a frenzy. Such a dramatic arrival announced the homecoming to all. The advantages? Speed—first, fast; second, fast; third, still fast.

Right on cue, the omega heard the door click open. The alpha swept in on a gust of crisp autumn air and hurried to his side. “What’s wrong?”

“I want…” Wen Yan bit his lip and whispered, “Can you hold me like you do at night?”

No questions asked. As the alpha’s warm body enveloped him, those pheromones surged into his nostrils. The omega went rigid for a long moment before gingerly tucking his head into the alpha’s shoulder. He heard the question repeated: “What’s wrong?”

“I felt nauseous earlier,” he admitted. “It stops when I smell you. That’s why I called. You’re so busy—did I interrupt your work?”

“No.” The alpha’s voice was even. “Got my number memorized?”

“Do I need to?”

“Mm. What if you get lost someday?”

The omega nodded. “All right.”

“Next time, no need to ask. Just come hug me.”

“Okay.”

The following morning, still deep in slumber, the omega was scooped into the car by the alpha. He slept through the ride to the Chief’s Mansion. Upon waking, he found a note by the bed, penned in bold, vigorous strokes:

—I’m right outside.

Cracking the door, the omega peeked out—only to be spotted at once by the alpha at his desk. The alpha rose, took his hand, and led him over. Two chairs stood side by side behind the desk: one self-evident, the other with a special cushion on its backrest. Before them sat a platter of exquisite fruit and a book.

Wen Yan settled into the right-hand seat and quietly ate, quietly read.