Anfia Hospital was unusually bustling today. Outside, a black BMW 760Li, a Panamera, and a Ferrari 612 were parked.
On the third floor, at the innermost corner of the conference room, a security door led to the intensive care unit. Access required fingerprint, voiceprint, iris, and gait verification—four layers of authentication designed to prevent any possible intrusion.
Three grown men stood around an infant incubator, observing.
The little baby slept on his back, pink and wrinkled, a thin layer of white skin peeling, the umbilical cord detached, revealing a tiny, reddish-pink belly button.
Bi Ruijing rested his hands on the incubator, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his well-defined forearms marked with a bluish brand: PBB-000026.
His eyes trembled as he stared at the infant’s face. “So beautiful… Uncle was always a handsome man. The child won’t turn out any differently.”
Ye Wan had once been Bi Ruijing’s team leader. Learning that the long-deceased leader had actually passed just a week ago hit Bi Ruijing like a bolt from the blue; it took him a long while to process the shock.
Xia Pingtian rested his hands on the back of the sofa, legs crossed, holding an unlit cigarette between his lips, fiddling irritably with the lighter’s metal cap, the clinks echoing in the room. “Lu Lin went to the PBB headquarters again recently. He’s been raising a monster and guiding its differentiation. If he actually succeeds… it might become invincible.”
“He’s already insane,” Lu Shangjin said, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. “I’ll kill him sooner or later.”
“This child’s condition has never been stable,” Xia Pingtian glanced at the incubator. “He might have a short life, or other illnesses. I’ve been doing my best to treat him. If you have resources, contact me.”
“Thanks.” Lu Shangjin sat on the sofa with his elbows resting on his knees, massaging the bridge of his nose. He looked exhausted but still leaned closer to the glass to touch the baby’s tiny hand.
It was a handsome alpha boy.
Lu Shangjin couldn’t help but think of Yan Yi. He imagined Yan Yi pregnant, wearing a loose white shirt, sitting quietly on a soft bed, the belly rounding out, looking up at him with a serene smile.
He had slept with many omegas, but only Yan Yi had inspired the fantasy of a “family.”
Lu Shangjin didn’t care much about the child’s gender or differentiation potential. Suddenly, he felt that if he and Yan Yi started a family, their child might be as soft as Yan Yi—a little white rabbit, obediently calling him “dad” with twitching ears.
It was the first time Lu Shangjin felt a genuine longing for a family.
He missed Yan Yi suddenly, regretting not insisting on bringing him home so he could see him upon returning.
Recently, coming home always carried a vague anticipation, and the absence of Yan Yi made him restless.
Previously, some young masters noticed his moodiness and sent omegas they thought Lu Shangjin might like, all of whom were promptly returned.
He had no interest.
All he wanted now was to touch that soft, ball-like tail.
Xia Pingtian, annoyed, stepped out of the intensive care unit for a smoke, while Xia Jingtian leaned against the wall, waiting.
“Brother, check a license plate for me,” Xia Jingtian handed him a note with the number.
Xia Pingtian glanced at the note. A familiar string of digits.
“You little bastard,” he muttered, pushing Xia Jingtian against the wall. “Why are you checking Lu Shangjin’s car?”
“I need to find Yan Yi. I have something important to tell him, and he won’t answer my calls,” Xia Jingtian said earnestly. “It’s really important. Please help me.”
Xia Pingtian studied his brother’s pleading eyes and softened.
This kid had always been stubborn, rarely showing weakness. Yet here he was, repeatedly begging over an omega.
“First, tell me the truth,” Xia Pingtian ground out, crushing his cigarette and straightening Xia Jingtian’s collar. “How far did you go with that floppy-eared omega? Only tell me.”
“I really didn’t do anything. I only touched his back.” Xia Jingtian tugged Xia Pingtian’s hand to his nape. “Those are all injection marks from the suppressants. I was beside Yan Yi during his heat. If I wanted anything, I could have done it—no need for all those suppressants.”
Xia Pingtian knew his brother’s character. Jingtian never lied to him, fearless and unconcerned with making excuses. There was no way to manipulate him.
“Hmm.” Xia Pingtian flipped his collar, pitying the little scamp. Here was a young emperor at home, able to command everything, yet running to a rabbit who had been… taken advantage of for over a decade. That’s what liking someone meant.
“Compatibility high?” Xia Pingtian guessed. Alphas preferred mates with high compatibility; Jingtian was young, easily dazzled.
“Yes.” Xia Jingtian nodded. “Haven’t officially tested, but visually over ninety.”
“Hah, so high.” Xia Pingtian relaxed. With his means, he could easily find an even more compatible omega for Jingtian to play with. For now, letting his brother see his dream rabbit once would satisfy his heart. Jingtian might be hot-headed, but he understood right from wrong.
Besides, that rabbit belonged to Lu Shangjin. Even if given ten thousand chances, Jingtian wouldn’t betray that relationship.
Everyone in the circle knew Lu Shangjin hated betrayal. Omegas who had been with him never dared to seek other men secretly during heat, consequences too grave.
“Alright.” Xia Pingtian pocketed the note. “This is the last time. Resolve your feelings, then come back. Don’t cause trouble for anyone.”
Xia Jingtian reluctantly watched Lu Shangjin’s back leave the intensive care unit.
“Mm.”
——
At the dilapidated bar, the busiest hours were eight to nine—insomniacs and night owls’ shared revelry.
By three a.m., business thinned. Yan Yi rested his head on the bar counter, yawning.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, startling him. Pulling it out, he saw a video call from Lu Shangjin.
Without hesitation, he answered. Regret came too late.
The screen first showed honey-colored chest muscles. Lu Shangjin adjusted the angle, finally framing his captivating, heart-stealing face.
It seemed he’d just finished showering; his hair curled and damp.
Yan Yi froze, ears perking up in embarrassment.
“Hey, baby, off work yet?” Lu Shangjin’s husky voice came through the phone, teasing. “Not in bed yet?”
“I… haven’t finished work.” Yan Yi rested his chin on the counter, almond-shaped eyes quietly tracing the cool, commanding face on the screen.
“Miss me?” Lu Shangjin asked.
Yan Yi remained silent, but the slight curl of his lips betrayed him.
Lu Shangjin smiled. “I miss you too. On the way home today, I saw a kid holding cotton candy.”
“I thought of you. Little tail ball soft and sweet in your hands… with a faint milky candy scent.”
Yan Yi looked away, utterly defenseless against such passionate words.
He had to change the topic. “You… dry your hair before sleeping. Or you’ll catch a cold.”
For a brief moment, the screen angle was perfect, so Yan Yi took a screenshot.
——
Gu Weizao picked up bottles scattered on the floor, glancing at Yan Yi.
Yan Yi returned a hurried glance, pointed at his phone, and dashed upstairs. “I—I’m off work now.”
“…”
Gu Weizao swung the broom around his neck in a 360-degree spin, sweeping while passionately singing “Too Softhearted.”