Bai Ruonian immediately covered his mouth, coughing until tears streamed down his face, looking at him with watery eyes.
What trick was this?
He didn’t get it.
He instinctively retreated two steps, pulling free from Lu Mingjin’s hand. “Stay away from me…”
Lu Mingjin paused, withdrawing his hand. He let out a laugh.
“Bai Ruonian, what game are you playing?”
Bai Ruonian’s voice was hoarse, sticky, and weak.
“I think I’m sick. Don’t want to pass it to you… I’ll go find somewhere to stay by myself…”
Bai Ruonian felt miserable but inwardly spun another thought. When he was a Little Stray before, Master had brought him back to his room. Now that he was sick, Master surely wouldn’t ignore him. He might as well lay on the pitiful act. “Sorry… I shouldn’t have gone into your room.”
Lu Mingjin looked at him, ran his tongue over his teeth, and said nothing.
No fear, no retreat, no intentional fawning.
A simple answer. Neither fighting nor grabbing, neither crying nor making a fuss.
If this was an act, it was an incredibly good one.
After a long silence with no reaction, Bai Ruonian’s heart began to pound nervously. In these three years, he’d grown somewhat unable to read Master.
So much more silent than in his memories. And so much more indifferent.
Lu Mingjin’s gray irises held an inorganic, metallic gleam as he looked down at the omega before him.
An Alpha’s constitution naturally wouldn’t be so easily infected. Besides, even a stray cat or dog he’d picked up would never be allowed, right under his nose, to crawl off and die alone in a corner.
That would be looking down on him far too much.
“I don’t get sick. Not afraid of catching anything—”
His words were cut short by a violent coughing fit from Bai Ruonian, who was hacking until tears welled in his eyes. Lu Mingjin reached out to press against his forehead but hadn’t expected Bai Ruonian to subconsciously retreat another two steps, blinking at him once more.
Lu Mingjin’s hand paused in mid-air.
The omega’s eyes were glittering, like sapphires. Panicked like a small beast, filled with both expectation and wariness.
Lu Mingjin inexplicably thought of the cat he’d raised long ago.
Exactly the same.
“Don’t move,” he said in a low voice.
This time, Bai Ruonian obediently stayed still. Tilting his face up, he hesitated a moment, then leaned in on his own.
When he was a kitten and caused trouble, he would pad onto Lu Mingjin’s lap, press his face close, sniffing and nuzzling.
Each time he did that, the anger would fade.
Lu Mingjin stepped forward twice and pressed against the omega’s forehead.
Scalding. The temperature contrast was stark.
“Go lie down in the room.”
Lu Mingjin issued the order from habit, turning to dial his terminal. “Find a doctor. Now.”
Bai Ruonian was dazed and confused, but sensed that Master’s oppressive aura seemed to have subsided somewhat. A little happy, he nodded and said okay. Turning around, he tottered towards the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Lu Mingjin spared him a glance in the middle of his call.
Bai Ruonian looked back. Lu Mingjin tilted his chin towards the room at the end of the hallway, then returned to his call, his face dark and a trace of impatience in his voice.
“It’s not a trauma. Not internal bleeding. No surgery needed. It has nothing to do with pheromones… Yeah, a cold. A fever.”
He paused. “It’s not me.”
Hanging up, he saw Bai Ruonian still frozen in place. “What?”
“I’ll go to the guest room then…”
Bai Ruonian muttered quietly. Master hadn’t ignored him entirely, but without any kissing or cuddling, just leaving him hanging like this—he was unhappy. He shuffled and scuffed his feet, slowly making his way down. But just as he was about to step onto the first stair, a figure silently and solidly blocked his path.
Bai Ruonian nearly crashed headlong into it. He screeched to a halt, looking up in shock.
He had no idea when Master had appeared before him.
Lu Mingjin stood extremely close. Moonlight streamed through a high window, falling over him and defining his cold, rigid outline. His silver pupils looked razor-sharp under the moon, his expression unreadable.
“If you tumble down the stairs, it’ll be hard for me to explain. Go back where you came from.”
His tone was utterly flat, yet brooked no argument.
“No, I’m fine!” Bai Ruonian turned his head away in a huff, wanting to go around and prove himself. However, the moment he tentatively extended a foot onto the cold edge of the step, he slipped. His whole body lost balance and pitched forward—
The expected pain never came.
A powerful arm, steady and with an almost forceful strength, instantly scooped him back. Bai Ruonian, his soul not yet settled, looked up and collided directly with Lu Mingjin’s downturned gaze.
Lu Mingjin’s brow arched. A flash of knowing—”See, I told you so”—flickered for a second through his silver eyes.
Bai Ruonian was rather resentful. Face flushed red with fever, limbs weak, he had no choice but to slump weakly against Lu Mingjin’s chest. But after catching a small breath, he stubbornly scrabbled at Lu Mingjin, climbing up and clinging to him like climbing a pole, utterly ignoring his Master’s now rigid posture.
If you like holding him, then hold him.
Hmph.
When the summoned combat medic, He Zhao, rushed frantically to the Major General’s Residence, this was the scene that greeted him.
A beautiful omega, curled up asleep in the Major General’s bed. A palm-sized face peeked out, chin pointed, lashes trembling, a layer of sickly red flush beneath his eyes.
And his young Alpha superior officer leaned against the doorway in the distance, expression unreadable, yet his gaze was constantly fixed on the figure. There was even a dark, ambiguous intensity to it.
Fever right after arriving.
Hmm…
“Ahem, Major General.” He Zhao deliberately coughed to signal Lu Mingjin to move aside.
Not only had he never entered Lu Mingjin’s room before, he’d never even been on this second floor.
Lu Mingjin shifted aside. He Zhao slipped through the gap in the door.
“So what happened?”
After a diagnosis, some medicine, and taking his temperature, He Zhao was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when a sudden, flat question from behind made his breath catch all over again.
How should he phrase this properly?
He glanced at Lu Mingjin, then at the kitten-like omega on the bed. A doctor’s sense of justice and professional ethics surged up.
“Major General Lu, there’s something I’m not sure if I should say.”
“Speak.”
“Even though the Royal Family and political circles treat omegas as mental stabilizers for Alphas, you can’t just… use them up like this.” He lowered his voice. “Furthermore, you’re an SS-Rank… Don’t put all that force onto an omega. They can’t take it.”
Lu Mingjin’s eyebrows shot up high.
What was that supposed to mean?
One after another, was everyone treating him like a thug?
“I didn’t…”
He’d just started to speak when He Zhao gave the exact same “knowing” look that Song Hanshan had. “Understood, understood.”
Seeing the young Major General’s mood darkening, He Zhao hurriedly made an excuse to flee. He picked up his medical kit, went downstairs, opened the door—smooth as water flowing. Just before leaving, he instinctively glanced back up the stairs.
That omega was standing at the top of the staircase now.
Frail, pale, looking like he’d fall over in a breeze.
A pair of deep blue eyes, like gemstones. When their gazes met, there wasn’t a trace of impurity.
So beautiful.
After He Zhao left, Lu Mingjin saw Bai Ruonian emerge from the room and frowned. “Why did you come out?”
Bai Ruonian’s hearing came and went. He tilted his head, processing for a moment, before saying, “Looking for Mas…” The word “Master” couldn’t come out. Bai Ruonian changed tack, his voice still timid. “Looking for you.”
When he was a cat, he needed to find Master the moment he woke up. Before sleeping, he needed to nuzzle Master. And he had to sleep pressed right up against him.
Now he wasn’t a cat anymore, but a human. The old habits just wouldn’t change.
Lu Mingjin asked, “What is it?”
The lovely little omega stared at the stairs, wanting to go down but not daring to. He looked like a kitten who’d just imprinted on an owner, utterly helpless. Wanting to get closer but afraid to, he could only inch forward bit by bit.
For no reason at all, Lu Mingjin remembered the cat he’d raised before.
When he’d picked it up, it was the exact same scene.
Though everything that followed had proven one thing: he wasn’t suited for keeping cats.
Lu Mingjin just watched this beautiful omega inch closer, staying where he was.
Bai Ruonian shuffled over slowly. He was still feverish, the area under his eyes flushed a pitiful red, his head spinning slightly.
He hadn’t heard too clearly just now, but he’d caught the gist of what He Zhao said.
He could be kept because he could help Lu Mingjin stabilize his mental power fluctuations.
Bai Ruonian let out a tiny sigh.
He’d become human. It wasn’t like being a kitten, just needing to rub and nuzzle for Master to take him in and raise him. And from what he’d seen, Master didn’t much like the human version of him either.
If he didn’t make himself useful, what would happen if he was sent away?
Besides, he really did want to help Master.
“I can help you…” Bai Ruonian, trembling, lifted his pointed chin, imitating, testing, trying to string the words together. “Help you… stabilize your mental power.”
Bai Ruonian looked at Lu Mingjin with pure, clear innocence, his azure eyes blinking. He spoke slowly but firmly. This was a new term he’d learned from the doctor. It seemed very important.
He really wanted to help Master.
A derisive chuckle came from beside his ear.
Lu Mingjin stared at the omega. Quiet for barely any time and already starting again. This little spy really did put on a good act.
Step by step, he ascended the stairs, closing in. At the turn, he lifted the omega’s delicate chin. His tone was detached. “Do you know how to do it?”
Bai Ruonian looked up, meeting his Master’s silver pupils.
He’d never seen this expression on Master.
Displeasure?
No.
Pleasure?
Not that either.
It was like a predator eyeing its prey. Appraising. Amused.
His heart pounded a little, but he still stood still. “I don’t know… but you could teach me…”
