When Lu Shangjin came back to his senses, his chest was already soaked.
He thought it was tears and, with trembling fingers, wiped Yan Yi’s face: “Don’t cry… Yanyan… from now on, I’ll really take care of you.”
But when he raised his hand, it was covered in bright red.
It had all flowed into his heart, seeping into the cracks, growing like blades that tore his flesh to pieces.
Panicked, Lu Shangjin scooped him up, and the little rabbit in his arms gradually lost its color, the limbs dangling weakly.
On the way to the hospital, his assistant drove.
The car interior resembled a crime scene—blood everywhere. Lu Shangjin pressed a towel firmly against the back of Yan Yi’s neck, his body smeared with sticky blood.
At first, the sweetness of milk candy lingered amid the metallic scent of blood, but it gradually faded, eventually overwhelmed by the iron tang.
“Yanyan, wake up…” Lu Shangjin kissed Yan Yi’s slowly cooling forehead repeatedly. “Everything will be fine. When you wake up, I’ll take you home. The house has been picked out—I know you like places with mountains and water. From now on, it’ll just be the two of us…”
He actually knew what the little rabbit liked.
He had just never cared enough to put those desires first. There was always something more important in front of him; all he had given Yan Yi was endless waiting and dashed hopes.
He had changed, truly. As long as Yan Yi got better—or even if his future was always this hazy—Lu Shangjin would never abandon him again.
Yet, he couldn’t bear the responsibilities he wanted to uphold. Those he wanted to protect departed decisively. The dearest father and partner in his life had chosen the same way to relieve their pain.
Even the once lively little rabbit ears were soaked red, the soft fur matted together with thick blood, drooping lifelessly.
Lu Shangjin rubbed the little ears and bent down to kiss them.
Yan Yi had always loved having his ears kissed.
When he was a child, he would often dash over, lying against Lu Shangjin and demanding affection—crawling into his arms just to have his ears kissed.
The little rabbit’s ears were sensitive; no one could touch them. Only when Lu Shangjin kissed them would he let the ears fall into his palm.
As the stretcher was rushed out of the hospital, Xia Jingtian heard his older brother scolding him in the lobby.
The eldest of the Xia family repeatedly promised his father that after taking his brother back, he would watch him closely, making sure he never did anything to tarnish the family name again.
Xia Jingtian leaned lazily against the wall, listening to the lecture.
“That’s more like it,” Xia Pingtian said, crossing his legs on a bench, blocking a passing nurse to ask why his new “girlfriend” wasn’t in the office.
For the past few days, he had been finding excuses to run to the hospital, just to see the beauty—what kind of sponsor rushed so eagerly to curry favor?
Xia Jingtian sneered: “When the leader’s crooked, the subordinates follow—how dare you lecture me?”
The nurse hurriedly said: “Dr. Zhong, emergency! A lop-eared rabbit omega’s glands have been damaged!”
Xia Jingtian froze, following the chaotic sound into the hospital. He caught sight of Yan Yi on the stretcher.
It was like a dream; he didn’t react at all.
A cluster of nurses and doctors hurried the stretcher toward the ER. Lu Shangjin ran alongside, holding Yan Yi’s hand, staring at him with grief.
The ER doors closed in his sight, keeping the family outside.
His assistant tried to help him, but he was violently pushed away. He could only stand aside, watching his boss kneel on the tile, staring blankly at the flashing lights of the resuscitation room.
Xia Pingtian muttered: “This… he was fine this morning…”
A shove on his shoulder made Xia Jingtian push through and grab Lu Shangjin by the collar, swinging a punch.
“You brought him back just to kill him? Why the hell did I send you the location—was I blind?!”
Lu Shangjin had already exhausted his gland energy trying to stop Yan Yi from firing. Xia Jingtian’s punch, infused with his J1 ability, hit his back against the wall, swelling his left cheek.
He touched his lip, fingertips streaked with blood, then grabbed Xia Jingtian’s wrist, voice hoarse: “Go. I don’t want to fight a child.” His eyes never left the resuscitation room.
“Calm down.” Xia Pingtian rushed over, separating them, glaring at Xia Jingtian to step aside.
Xia Jingtian’s neck stiff, face red, roaring like a furious little lion.
He could feel the intense, irresistible attraction from Yan Yi vanish.
It was as if handcuffs and shackles had been suddenly removed—this sense of helplessness and liberation wasn’t something a suppressant could achieve. The only explanation was that Yan Yi’s glands, with over 90% compatibility to him, were gone.
For a fragile omega, gland damage was severe—he couldn’t bear to imagine it.
“Mr. Lu.” Dr. Zhong’s playful grin disappeared as he handed him a critical notice, his tone heavy: “The bullet severed the gland, damaging the root nerve tissue. Prepare yourself mentally.”
“What does that mean? Will he die? Die?!” Lu Shangjin shook off Xia Pingtian, gripping Dr. Zhong by the collar, eyes bloodshot, nearly tearing at the corners. “You’re a doctor! How can this injury be incurable? If he dies, I’ll—”
Dr. Zhong, an omega, was physically weaker, and Xia Pingtian eventually intervened.
Lu Shangjin clutched the sleeve of Dr. Zhong, pleading: “Save him. I don’t care about money or resources—I can provide everything… please, save him…”
Dr. Zhong could only promise to do his best and hurried back into the ER.
The Gland Department of Anfea Hospital was world-class. If even they were powerless, Lu Shangjin had no hope to try luck elsewhere.
Xia Jingtian sat on the rooftop all night in a daze.
Their family had run this hospital for years, witnessing countless farewells. Yet this time, the life hanging in the balance was someone he longed for—and he didn’t know if he would come out alive. The pain was sharper than wine.
Yet he had no right to wait outside; this person had a family, even if he was a jerk. He wasn’t even allowed to sign the critical notice.
By late night, his thoughts were still a tangle, silently aching for someone he dared not voice.
Dr. Zhong specialized in gland research; awakened biological traits were plant-like “Qingfeng Vine.” J1 and M2 differentiated into healing abilities, giving patients far above-average recovery rates.
Xia Jingtian restrained himself, knowing tomorrow would bring results.
He idly swiped on his phone, switching between apps. No friends were awake at this hour.
Yet his social feed still updated—a screenshot of himself playing guitar, captioned: “Boss Gu looks dazzling as ever.”
A rogue, handsome face, wearing a ripped tight tank top, purposely lifted to show abs, a thin silver chain on his neck with a ring.
Xia Jingtian zoomed in. Initially thinking Boss Gu had an omega friend, he realized the ring bore “GW”—his own initials.
He casually commented: “Quite the flirt.”
Boss Gu quickly replied: “Perform, not for sale.”
Seeing the bar just closed, Gu Weixian asked: “What are you up to?”
Xia Jingtian felt an even tighter knot in his chest.
“Your former employee is being resuscitated in my hospital.”
At five in the morning, the ER doors opened.
Hearing the slightest sound, Lu Shangjin immediately looked up, seeing Yan Yi being wheeled out. He hurried to follow, removing the IV and energy drips.
“Yanyan…” Exhaustion softened his expression slightly.
Sleeping, Yan Yi was quiet and obedient, but his face was as pale and fragile as an eggshell.
Xia Jingtian leaned against the window frame, letting his heart slowly fall.
Lu Shangjin followed all the way to the ICU, only to be stopped again. He gently held Yan Yi’s hand, but it slipped. The ring the little rabbit had worn for years fell into his palm.
At that moment, Lu Shangjin noticed the tiny tattoo on his ring finger:
“everlastinglove.”
“I just want to see him for a moment!” Lu Shangjin held the door, unwilling to leave. “I won’t touch him, let me see…”
Sudden footsteps echoed. Alpha-strength hands pressed on Lu Shangjin’s shoulders, fingers growing into black vines, wrapping him up and dragging him out of the ICU.
The black vines retracted, restoring normal skin. Bi Ruijing adjusted his cuffs: “Zhi already told me everything. You really made us proud. If not for Anfea, you’d have made the headlines this morning. What did the doctor say?”
Dr. Zhong approached. Lu Shangjin looked up.
“The patient’s gland roots are completely destroyed. No regeneration or self-healing is possible. With energy supplementation, life can be maintained for at most one week.”
Lu Shangjin’s vision darkened. He staggered, sitting on the bench in utter despair: “There’s nothing that can be done?”
Dr. Zhong proposed a possibility:
“Given the situation, only gland transplantation is an option. But considering success rates, we must use same-type stem cells—clone and regenerate for transplantation using our current technology.”
“Same-type?”
Lu Shangjin and Bi Ruijing fell silent.
Xia Jingtian looked at them strangely: “Lop-eared rabbit gland type… isn’t that common? The donation bank has some.”
Dr. Zhong frowned: “Transplanting stem cell glands requires the patient’s identical lop-eared rabbit A3 type, or stem cells with A3 differentiation potential.”
“A…” Xia Jingtian choked, staring at his brother in shock.
A3-level glands are extremely rare. The lop-eared rabbit A3 in the world might only be the one lying in the ICU.
Lu Shangjin suddenly stood up.
“I’ll find it.”
Bi Ruijing’s face darkened: “You better come back.”
Lu Shangjin ignored him.
Xia Jingtian followed, seeing Lu Shangjin rummaging through the trunk.
He slowed his pace, whispering: “Where can you find one?”
Lu Shangjin assembled an AWM, slammed the stock against the car wall, securing it tightly.
“PBB.”
Pacific Biodifferentiation Base—the Pacific Biological Differentiation Facility.