A momentary daze flickered across Xie Ling’s face.
Bed… on the bed?!
Though the boundaries between Alphas and Omegas had always been a bit blurry to him, anyone could guess what an Alpha had in mind when he brought a Heat-period Omega to bed.
Xie Ling panicked at once. “You…”
“You’re not feeling well, and standing must be uncomfortable. I’ll carry you to bed to rest,” Qin Han explained quickly, cutting him off before he could snap.
Watching the other man’s expression shift from dazed to frantic and back to dazed again, Qin Han chuckled. “What did you think I was going to do?”
“…Nothing. I didn’t think anything,” Xie Ling replied. But faced with Qin Han’s utterly innocent look, he couldn’t help averting his eyes.
For some reason, this guy’s words always sparked the strangest associations in his mind.
Qin Han’s lips curved faintly as his gaze swept over Xie Ling’s home. From the curtains to the furniture arrangement, everything showed the careful touch of its owner—clean, bright, and spotless. The layout suggested at least four or five bedrooms.
“Which one’s your room?” Qin Han asked.
Xie Ling pointed ahead.
Qin Han carried him inside and immediately spotted the enormous Polar Bear Plushie on the bed.
“…Do you like hugging things when you sleep?” Qin Han asked with a soft laugh.
Xie Ling froze, then flushed with embarrassment.
He’d forgotten to put the plushie away!
“N-No! My mom forced this on me,” he said, glancing casually at the Polar Bear Plushie he’d been nuzzling and squeezing not long ago. “Us strong types never hug stuff to sleep.”
“But there’s what looks like your hair on its belly.” Xie Ling’s hair was a bit longer than most guys’, with natural curls at the ends.
…Did this guy’s eyes have to be so sharp? Big deal, top-tier Alpha.
“It must’ve thought my hair smelled so good that it snuck some while I was asleep,” Xie Ling shot back, dead serious.
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a shadow loomed overhead.
Qin Han leaned in, pressing his nose to Xie Ling’s hair and inhaling deeply. He pulled back with a light laugh. “Yeah, it really is fragrant.”
His warm breath puffed against Xie Ling’s ear as he spoke. Xie Ling instinctively tried to dodge, but Qin Han’s Summer Sea Breeze pheromones wove around him so tightly, drawing him in. He wanted to press even closer to this perfectly matched Alpha. He’d even come to accept the princess carry without resistance.
It felt so good… He wanted more…
Sensing the man in his arms growing restless again, Qin Han steadied his breathing. He set Xie Ling down on the bed and hesitated. “Can I…”
“Get up here, quick.” Xie Ling hooked his arms around Qin Han’s neck, unwilling to let go of this Alpha for even a second.
A Heat-period Omega shouldn’t have much strength, but Xie Ling’s grip carried a sticky, insistent dominance.
Qin Han closed his eyes.
This was pure torment. His prized self-control and endurance crumbled utterly before this little guy.
“Hurry…” As the distance between them grew even slightly, Xie Ling’s mind began to cloud over again.
“Wait a sec,” Qin Han cooed, his voice turning husky. “Let me take off my jacket and shoes.”
Ten seconds later, he lay down beside Xie Ling on his side. One arm wrapped around his waist, enveloping him in a dense cocoon of his own pheromones.
“Like this?” Qin Han murmured. His embrace was both firm and gentle, his hand trembling slightly.
Holding Xie Ling like this in bed was a scene he’d only dared dream of before.
Xie Ling hummed lazily in response, like a kitten basking in the sun. He squinted contentedly, feeling as if he were floating on gentle waves, soothed by calm, refreshing breezes.
Qin Han’s lips quirked up. Unable to resist, he prodded, “Me or the Polar Bear—which one’s more comfortable to hug?”
“Polar… bear…” Xie Ling mumbled incoherently, barely aware of the question or his own answer before drifting back into sleep.
Qin Han knew Xie Ling wasn’t fully conscious, but hearing him pick the Polar Bear still made his smile stiffen.
With the two doses of suppressants plus Qin Han’s pheromone boost, Xie Ling slept better than he had in days. When he woke again, the discomfort had mostly faded.
“Hm?” Xie Ling blinked groggily at the Polar Bear Plushie sprawled on the floor. “How’d you end up down there, huh?”
“It got too hot on the bed and wanted to cool off on the floor,” came a clear, gentle voice by his ear.
Xie Ling froze as his half-awake brain suddenly registered something.
Qin Han was still in his bed!
No wonder everything looked off from this angle—his chin was resting on the guy’s shoulder.
He shifted slightly and pulled back a few centimeters, meeting Qin Han’s eyes. “Why are you sweating so much?”
Qin Han’s face was pale. The time while Xie Ling slept had been his happiest—and most agonizing. Holding the man he’d yearned for years, yet every cell in his body screamed with the truck-crash agony Qin Huai had described.
Luckily, Xie Ling was improving. The sweet, intoxicating pheromones weren’t as overwhelming anymore.
“I’m fine,” Qin Han rasped, his gaze flicking to the Barrier Patch on Xie Ling’s nape. He closed his eyes. “Just a bit hot.”
With evident reluctance, he released his hand from Xie Ling’s waist and sat up.
Truth be told, besides the pain, he was also fighting back some urges he couldn’t let show.
If the little guy squirmed any more, things down there would get even harder to explain.
Xie Ling was about to point out that the room was climate-controlled—nowhere near hot enough for that much sweat—when he spotted a vivid red stain soaking through the back of Qin Han’s crisp school T-shirt.
Stark and heavy.
Xie Ling shot upright. “Your wound split open!”
He remembered that spot—it was from when Qin Han had saved him, slashed by Liu Chang’s knife in the alley.
Qin Han reached back casually, his palm coming away bloody.
His expression didn’t change. Perhaps the pain inside overshadowed it; if Xie Ling hadn’t pointed it out, he wouldn’t have even noticed. That sting was nothing compared to the torment wracking his body.
“Hey, don’t touch it!” Xie Ling grabbed Qin Han’s hand, exasperated by this young master’s lack of sense. “Does it hurt? I’ll grab the first-aid kit.”
Qin Han almost reflexively said it didn’t, but feeling Xie Ling’s hand on his, he furrowed his brow faintly. “Yeah, it hurts pretty bad.”
His voice was low and slow, his gaze on Xie Ling carrying an indescribable hint of pitifulness. “Will you help me change the dressing?”
Xie Ling grinned. “Who else? You can’t even see it yourself.”
“I can’t,” Qin Han agreed, his lips curving as he gripped Xie Ling’s hand in return. “So… can you be gentle about it later?”
“…” Why did this guy’s tone sound so off?
“Got it.” Whatever. He wouldn’t tease today. Besides, even if Qin Han could see, Xie Ling should handle this wound—it was all for his sake, after all.
“Hands off. I’ll go get it.”
The door was on Qin Han’s side of the bed. Xie Ling stood up, swinging one leg over him. As he brought the other around, Qin Han suddenly shifted his knee.
The straddle failed spectacularly. Xie Ling lost his balance and landed squarely on Qin Han’s thigh.
Qin Han’s arm snaked around his waist. Xie Ling started to protest, but Qin Han puffed a breath in his ear, all innocence. “Sorry, my knee went numb for a sec.”
Xie Ling turned his head away slightly, remembering how, when he’d first woken up, both his legs had been draped over Qin Han’s.
“After I patch you up, want me to rub your knee?” Talk about life’s twists—he’d never imagined saying something like that to Qin Han.
No helping it. He was a good kid who knew how to repay a favor.
Qin Han figured even dying in agony today would be worth it. He smiled. “Sure. And I’ll rub yours too.”
His gaze drifted to Xie Ling’s knee—and froze the next instant.
There, on Xie Ling’s otherwise flawless right knee, was a scar. Not too obvious, but visible up close. It looked like it was from years ago, and the wound must’ve been nasty.
Qin Han’s eyes darkened. He asked softly, “That scar… from back then?”
Xie Ling paused, then nodded. “Yeah.”
The lively mood plunged abruptly.
Xie Ling rubbed his nose, drawling lazily, “Actually…”
“Your stomach growled while you were asleep,” Qin Han interrupted, lifting Xie Ling off his lap and getting off the bed himself. “I’ll go grab you some food.”
“But your wound…”
“It’s not that bad.” Qin Han shrugged on his jacket and headed out, hand on the doorknob. Xie Ling caught a twitch at the corner of his mouth—like he was holding something back.
“Not as bad as what you went through,” he added before opening the door and leaving.
Xie Ling sat there stunned for a few seconds, then bolted off the bed and dashed out. The living room was empty.
He yanked open the front door. Qin Han was stepping into the elevator. Barefoot, Xie Ling raced after him. “Are you nuts?! The floor’ll infect your wound!”
“It’s cool out here—go back inside.” Qin Han flashed his usual smile. “I’ll be quick.”
With that, the elevator doors slid shut.
Xie Ling watched the numbers on the display screen count down rapidly, clicking his tongue in annoyance.
~~~
After returning home, Xie Ling grew more and more uneasy the longer he dwelled on it. He rummaged through the cabinet for the medicine box, slipped on his shoes, and was about to chase after Qin Han when a message from Qin Han popped up—
Troublemaker: Your condition isn’t stable yet. Don’t come out. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.
Damn it. Had this guy installed a mind reader in his house??
Xie Ling walked to the window and peered down from upstairs. He could see Qin Han already at the base of the building. Qin Han wore his school uniform jacket, his gait exactly as graceful as always—elegant enough to send a flock of Omegas into a screaming frenzy. There wasn’t the slightest hint that he was still nursing an injury.
…Might as well play dead!
In a fit of fury, Xie Ling flopped back onto the sofa. He snatched up Madam Fu’s Ahri plush pillow from the cushion and buried his face in it.
A moment later, he pulled his head free, his gaze drifting to the scar on his knee.
That scar dated back to middle school; he’d even posted a photo of it on the school forum. That particular Friday night had been a signing event for one of his favorite Japanese manga artists. But Qin Han had pulled some shady tricks that day on purpose, forcing Xie Ling to stay late for cleanup duty.
By the time he’d finished, the event was on its last legs. Xie Ling had vaulted fences and taken shortcuts all the way to the station, only to trip on some loose bricks in a narrow alley.
The awkward spot and angle of the fall made the injury severe—nearly down to the bone. An ambulance had eventually carted him off to the hospital.
Because of that mishap, Xie Ling had missed his chance to meet his idol in person.
He’d hated Qin Han’s guts back then. He’d nearly written their challenge letter in his own blood, but his mom had stopped him, forcing him to use red paint instead. He’d snapped a photo and sent it to Qin Han: Monday, 7 PM, rooftop of the north academic building. Come alone. Weapons allowed. Whoever chickens out turns into a freakish hermaphrodite after differentiation!
The wording had been downright vicious. But Qin Han never showed.
Not only that—when Xie Ling stormed into school on Monday, hobbling on crutches and seething with rage, he’d learned Qin Han had abruptly transferred and jetted off to America.
From then on, until their recent reunion, they hadn’t been in touch at all.
Xie Ling was lost in those old memories when his phone suddenly rang.
It was Gu Ran calling.
Gu Ran had heard about Xie Ling’s day off and started by checking on his health. “Sorry. If it weren’t for my mess…”
“What kind of bros are we? Don’t talk like that.” Xie Ling cut him off with a laugh. “Anyway, I’m fine. Just lost some blood yesterday and felt too lazy for school today.”
Gu Ran’s worry eased a little upon hearing the strength in Xie Ling’s voice. “Oh, right—thank Uncle Xie for me.”
Three thanks strung together like that puzzled Xie Ling as he mentally broke down the phrasing. “What do you mean, thank my dad for?”
“My dad heard about yesterday. He called in some favors through his contacts, asking if we could keep Liu Chang locked up longer. But the guy told him someone had already handled it. They’d dug up all of Liu Chang’s old criminal records—he might be rotting in there for life.”
Gu Ran sounded puzzled himself. “Wasn’t it you who asked Uncle Xie to help?”
“Nope. I was planning to call my dad tonight.” Little Xie Ling, who’d been tied up riding out his heat period since last night, felt a bit dazed. “Maybe the heavens couldn’t stomach him picking on a great beauty like you and sent down an immortal to smite him?”
Gu Ran chuckled at Xie Ling’s flippant tone, then pondered. “It was probably Qin Han.”
Xie Ling fell silent.
He was right. The only one who could unearth every last one of Liu Chang’s past crimes overnight and guarantee he’d never see daylight again—besides a literal immortal—was the Qin Family.
Plus, Qin Han had told him yesterday that Liu Chang was in police custody and that he’d take care of the rest.
“Probably.” As Xie Ling spoke, he glanced at the wall clock.
Qin Han had been gone seven minutes now. Who knew how that wound of his was holding up? If he came back bleeding like a stuck pig, Xie Ling sure as hell wasn’t patching him up.
“…Little Ling?”
“Huh?” Xie Ling snapped back. “What’d you say?”
“I said I owe you thanks for this.”
Xie Ling let out a lazy laugh. “Nothing to thank. I like protecting you.”
“It’s not just that.” Gu Ran laughed too. “Without you, Qin Han wouldn’t have stepped in to deal with Liu Chang.”
Xie Ling: “…”
“I won’t pry into your history.” Gu Ran paused, his tone turning meaningful. “But Little Ling, I think he’s treating you really well these days.”
~~~
When Qin Han got back, he found the front door ajar. Xie Ling lounged on the sofa with his long legs crossed, clutching an Ahri pillow, head bowed in thought.
“Why leave the door unlocked?” Qin Han shut it behind him.
Xie Ling shot to his feet, words on the tip of his tongue—then realized what he was holding and hastily set the Ahri down. “It was the pillow…”
“It climbed onto you all by itself.” Qin Han smiled. “I get it.”
Xie Ling coughed awkwardly. “Sharp as ever. How’d you get so smart?”
“All that time around you—it rubs off.” Qin Han buttered him up while carrying his haul to the open kitchen off the living room. “Got your favorite shredded chicken noodles. Where do you keep the bowls? This takeout box is leaking.”
No answer.
Qin Han glanced back to find Xie Ling right behind him, eyes locked on his back.
“Take off your shirt. Let me see.”
Qin Han paused, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Staring at my body won’t satisfy your hunger like noodles will.”
He added softly, “Not for you right now, anyway.”
Xie Ling: “?”
He got every word individually, but strung together? Zero clue.
“Quit dodging. Show me the wound.”
Qin Han turned back to fuss with the noodles. “It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“…Chairman Qin, you think this is amusing? Punishing yourself? You figure that’ll make me happy? Turns out you’re even better at that emo self-harm bullshit than I ever was.”
Xie Ling’s voice chilled, laced with faint irritation. “Fine. Let’s hash out the past right here, right now.”
Qin Han halted and turned to face him.
Thinking he might bolt, Xie Ling planted his hands on the counter behind Qin Han, caging him in.
Qin Han’s breath caught.
They were too close—close enough for Qin Han to count the lashes framing Xie Ling’s eyes.
He could even catch the faint, lingering rose floral scent.
…
Xie Ling’s lips curved, utterly unfazed by their position. “Stand nice and still while I talk.”
He looked every inch the young wolf cornering its prey, his grin wicked and predatory. “Run again, and Daddy breaks your legs and ties you up.”
