Chapter 36 Part 2

Now, oblivion claimed him fully. He slumbered deeply in the room while, outside the door, Liang Wangyou wept until his eyes swelled, huddled on the floor with his head in his arms, the picture of misery.

Father and son had been at odds since yesterday. Liang Wangyou skipped school to keep vigil outside, while Liang Shijing stood guard within. They crossed paths only fleetingly that day, exchanging glares whenever they did.

To Liang Wangyou, the family’s expert doctors should have turned things around by now—yet after a full day, Wen Yan showed no improvement. Consul Ji had said he couldn’t speak or eat. It had to be Liang Shijing’s abrasive nature at fault! To Liang Shijing, the blame lay with his son’s excessive fussiness, forever dragging Wen Yan into games or tasks, restless even in sleep. Without Wen Yan’s round-the-clock care, how would he have caught such a severe cold?

Little pest…

Tensions had simmered before, always eased by Wen Yan’s mediation. Now, with their peacemaker struck down by grave illness, they bristled like sworn foes.

Nutrient injections and medical needles pierced one after another until, deep into the night, Wen Yan regained a sliver of awareness. The bedroom’s main light stayed off; only the wall lamp linking the corridor to the bathroom cast a ghostly glow. Faint water sounds drifted from the bath. He sat up sluggishly, testing his tongue against the roof of his mouth—still agony, laced with a bitter tang.

The scene mirrored that video perfectly: the Alpha in the shower, the Omega newly roused. The sole difference? No swollen belly on the Omega.

Wen Yan sat frozen, attuned to Liang Shijing’s subtle noises, his mind sketching the wrist arching as he toweled his hair, the eyes lowering to clasp the wristband.

The sounds cut off abruptly. He turned his head.

“What are you listening to?” Liang Shijing’s voice ghosted at his ear.

Wen Yan blinked sluggishly, then turned fully. Liang Shijing stood at the left side of the vast bed. Wen Yan met his gaze with crystalline eyes, faint pink blooming on his pallid cheeks. His pajamas hung loosely from bony shoulders, exposing a deep, protruding hollow. That sliver of pale skin gleamed silkier than satin in the muted light. He parted his lips to speak but swallowed in discomfort from the oral sores.

“Lie back,” Liang Shijing said, circling to the right side.

Drained of strength, Wen Yan collapsed softly onto the pillow. Liang Shijing tilted his chin to inspect his mouth. The Alpha’s fingers burned warm—feverish, perhaps, or fresh from the shower. Eyes wide open, Wen Yan submitted, allowing the cotton swab slick with ointment to glide inside and coat the sores tenderly. High heat from his saliva soaked the tip; as it withdrew, it trailed a gossamer silver thread.

Liang Shijing paused. “Breathe.”

Once the medicine was applied, fine sweat beaded on Wen Yan’s forehead.

Liang Shijing scooped him up and carried him toward the bathroom. Wen Yan promptly squeezed his eyes shut and played dead. He kept up the act even after being stripped bare and lowered into the bathtub. Liang Shijing, clad in his pajamas, swung his long legs over the edge and stepped right in. Water sloshed over the rim, pattering onto the floor in scattered droplets.

The Alpha seemed well-practiced at bathing an Omega. He wiped the Omega’s cheeks with a towel, taking care to avoid the barrier patch on the back of his neck. The Omega’s back was exquisite—his skin flushed pink from the steam, the delicate wings of his shoulder blades faintly outlined. They were usually braced and concealed, emerging in full only when his arms gripped the handrails embedded in the tub.

The water rolled into the dimples of his waist. It tickled…

Wen Yan spun around in a fluster.

“Can’t keep up the act anymore?” Liang Shijing said flatly.

Though the swelling in his throat had gone down and the fever had mostly broken, his mouth still throbbed with pain, laced with the bitter tang of medicines that churned uncomfortably in his stomach. Wen Yan sneaked a glance at him, but Liang Shijing caught it with the keen precision of a cop nabbing a thief red-handed.

“Lie back.” Liang Shijing commanded.

Wen Yan eased onto the soft pillow, his hair soaking through as Liang Shijing’s foam-covered hands gently worked into his scalp.

“Where’s Little You…” Wen Yan managed through gritted teeth.

“He’s been fussing to see you nonstop. When he can’t, he wails in the hallway. It’s a headache.”

No wonder Wen Yan kept hearing those bursts of crying. But did worrying about him really count as a headache?

“No need to worry.” Liang Shijing said. “I’ve already tossed him out.”

~~~

“How could you…” Wen Yan struggled to rise from the water, but Liang Shijing pinned his head firmly in place and snapped a foamy finger against his forehead. “Tossed him back to his own room.”

“Why not let him in…” Wen Yan pressed on, his features twisting further with every syllable.

“Doesn’t your mouth hurt anymore?” Liang Shijing tsked in irritation, then softened his tone. “You want to let him in so you can pass your cold to him? Then both of you end up flat on your backs?”

A cold this nasty was incredibly contagious. Wen Yan’s eyelashes fluttered. “But it could infect—”

Liang Shijing clapped a hand over his mouth, his gaze a stern warning: not another word with your mouth in that state.

After the bath, Wen Yan felt like his body might shatter into pieces. Every sensation had roared back to life, and the bone-deep aches from the fever rampaged through him. He collapsed onto the bed and curled into a ball. So when Liang Shijing knelt on the mattress and drew him into his arms, he offered no resistance.

The night deepened into silence, yet Liang Shijing still toyed idly with his hair.

“Not sleeping…?” Wen Yan murmured, eyes half-lidded.

“Mind your own business.” Liang Shijing replied.

Those were the last words Wen Yan heard before drifting off. When he awoke, sunlight blazed through the room, and strength had fully returned to his limbs. Liang Shijing was truly gone this time. The curtains hung wide, the recent rainy gloom replaced by scorching brilliance. The room felt empty. Propping himself up on the sheets, he froze as a small head slowly rose from beside the bed…

“Wen Yan.” Liang Wangyou popped up slyly, draped over the edge of the bed and whispering. His hair stuck out in a wild mess like a bird’s nest. Heaven only knew how he’d slipped in—or how long he’d been hiding underneath…

“Come here.” Wen Yan beckoned weakly. Liang Wangyou vaulted onto the bed in a flash, burrowing under the covers to wrap his arms tight around Wen Yan’s waist. “Does it still hurt?”

Aside from a lingering soreness in his mouth, his body felt fine. Wen Yan clapped a hand over his nose and mouth. “No pain. Little You, we need to keep our distance.”

“I won’t.” Liang Wangyou pried his hand away and whispered, “Father’s in the study. He won’t come in for a while. Wen Yan, don’t be scared.”

“It’s not him I’m scared of. It’s infecting you with my cold.” Wen Yan said, his eyes crinkling in a smile.

Liang Wangyou’s small hand brushed gently over the bruise on the back of Wen Yan’s. “I’m sorry. I won’t sleep with you anymore. Father was right—me being so clingy made you sick. I’m sorry.”

“Did he scold you?”

“No.” Liang Wangyou breezed past the “get lost” part. “He praised me…”

Liang Shijing had indeed praised him the day before—just in his own gruff way. Instead of “persistent,” he’d called the little Alpha a dog-skin plaster.

At the thought, Little Alpha let out a long, wistful sigh.

“Why the sigh?” Wen Yan asked.

“It’s not up to me…” Liang Wangyou parroted the idiom Liang Shijing had explained to him, his little face scrunching up.

The big body and the small one pressed together in cozy warmth. Every time Liang Wangyou spoke, his chubby tummy contracted, a sensation Wen Yan found utterly enchanting. He savored it quietly for a moment, then his gaze flicked to the date on the wall clock. The words tumbled out unbidden. “Little You, how about I have an aquarium built right here at home? We can keep the Sea Otter Mom and Sea Otter Babies you love.”

He’d meant to save it for the boy’s birthday, but his heart had overflowed in the moment.

Liang Wangyou’s face lit up with disbelief. He flipped over and pummeled the sheets with his tiny fists, then dove back into Wen Yan’s arms. Too thrilled for words, he could only giggle foolishly. Wen Yan, seeing him so blissfully happy, broke into laughter himself. There was no finer moment in the world than this—the little one’s beaming grin, his warm body squirming with delight, limbs flailing in joy.

“I’ll go tell your father about it right after, okay?” Wen Yan said with a smile.

Liang Wangyou leaned in conspiratorially. “Then don’t tell him I snuck in here.”

After washing his face, Wen Yan headed downstairs. Consul Ji lit up at the sight of his recovered vigor and beamed with delight, though he couldn’t resist a reminder: the cold was nearly gone, but he should still take it easy for a few more days.

“Liang Shijing won’t be going on any more business trips these next few days, right?” Wen Yan asked after thanking him. If Liang Shijing left again, the aquarium plans would be delayed.

“He’s around.” Consul Ji replied. “He’s been working from home lately.”

Wen Yan nodded. “That’s good.”

“It really is.” Consul Ji smiled, delighted to see the Omega and Alpha’s relationship blossoming. It couldn’t be better…

Wen Yan was eager to broach the subject. If Liang Shijing agreed soon, they might even see the aquarium completed. After breakfast, he made a beeline for Liang Shijing’s Dedicated Study on the third floor. He knocked lightly and let himself in, just as before. The room lay in shadow, and a wave of Alpha pheromones washed over him—cool and crisp in the past, but today they felt scorching against his skin.

“Liang Shijing?” Wen Yan called, puzzled, as he ventured deeper inside.

The curtains were drawn tightly shut. A single dim yellow desk lamp cast its faint glow over the table, where several documents lay spread out flat. Liang Shijing sat in a large high-backed chair, dressed in a white shirt. Half his profile was shrouded in shadow, the other half bathed in a hazy halo of light. To the left of his body stood a mobile IV stand, a bag filled with pinkish transparent fluid hanging high above. The clear tube snaked downward, ending in a needle embedded in the back of his hand.

Wen Yan started in surprise. But before he could draw near, this Liang Shijing seemed like a completely different man from the one yesterday. In an exceptionally cold tone, he said,

“Get out.”