Lu Shangjin glanced at Yan Yi.
A single look could make the already jittery Yan Yi’s legs weaken. Lu Shangjin had this kind of power—his gaze was more intimidating than ten UMP9s aimed at Yan Yi.
Yan Yi’s reddened nose twitched rapidly; he had to step back instinctively, dodging any potential harm.
Lu Shangjin tossed his phone to Yan Yi. “Call an ambulance.”
Yan Yi’s fingers trembled so violently he almost dropped it. The phone slipped against his chest and banged his slender collarbone. Ignoring the pain, he quietly dialed the number, speaking in a low voice: “Yes, a human omega whose glandular cells are undeveloped and unawakened, possibly with fractures.”
As he spoke, he kept watching Lu Shangjin. Omegas were fragile by nature, and a human omega with undeveloped glandular cells was even more vulnerable—almost incoherent with pain, weakly reaching out to Lu Shangjin.
Lu Shangjin bent down, lifting Yuan Mi into his arms, and released calming pheromones, easing the excruciating pain just enough for the omega to settle. He wiped away Yuan Mi’s tears.
Yuan Mi, seeking comfort, nestled into Lu Shangjin’s embrace, his pale arms wrapping tightly around Lu Shangjin’s neck. His panicked pheromones spread uncontrollably, choking the air with the scent of irises, as he sobbed, begging for more hugs.
Yuan Mi’s online critics mocked him for lacking acting skills, claiming his “Best Actor” title was undeserved. Yan Yi thought his performance was impeccable. If his glandular cells had awakened, he would be a top-tier omega, deserving of the accolades—perhaps even enough to record this moment to prove his critics wrong.
Yan Yi watched silently. The doctor on the line asked for specifics: “What’s the patient’s condition? We’ve already dispatched—”
“No need. He’s dead.” Yan Yi hung up, placing the phone on the table. He smoothed the wrinkles of his butler uniform and calmly stepped forward, taking the sobbing omega from Lu Shangjin. “Sorry, sir. I’ll handle this. You focus on more important matters.”
Lu Shangjin’s schedule was packed; he had no time to attend to an injured omega. Handing over the pale, reluctant Yuan Mi to Yan Yi, he whispered a warning: “We’ll discuss your punishment later.”
Yan Yi held Yuan Mi across his chest and nodded lightly. “Yes, sir.”
Lu Shangjin put on his coat and left in the Phantom, leaving the villa silent with only the two omegas.
Yuan Mi had already experienced the ferocity of this butler omega. Held across Yan Yi’s chest now, he almost forgot the agony in his leg. Stiff and frozen, his prior haughty demeanor vanished, leaving only panic, his pheromones filling the room with iris perfume.
Yan Yi carried him out of the villa with a neutral expression, as if holding a damp, worn-out garment—casual, yet capable of discarding him anywhere.
Yuan Mi wilted entirely. Using his last fragile bit of courage, he threatened, “Wait—you’ll pay when Jin comes back.”
Yan Yi didn’t look away, a faint polite curve at the corner of his mouth. “That’s between us.”
If Lu Shangjin wished to touch him—even as punishment—Yan Yi would comply.
Yuan Mi wore only a thin shirt. His long, pale legs were goosebumped, bruises dark against the skin. He bit his lip, sneering, “You’re one of his old omegas, huh? Hoping for a rekindled romance? Clinging to him, losing your dignity—you want what?”
Yan Yi frowned. His calm, light-gray eyes clouded with a touch of melancholy.
“You want what—resources, a protector, or just his second-stage differentiated pheromones?” Yan Yi gazed down at him. “If all you want is to be fucked, I can make you scream like today.”
Yuan Mi’s face paled visibly, blue and white intermingling.
Yan Yi didn’t waste words. His long body arched slightly, legs bending as he propelled himself and Yuan Mi across the villa’s rooftops. They darted among scattered houses and gardens with dizzying speed.
Yuan Mi clutched Yan Yi’s collar, queasy from the shifting heights and distances, terrified by Yan Yi’s composed expression.
This omega… his glandular cells must have already differentiated, level unknown.
The chance of an omega’s glandular cells differentiating was extremely low and required alpha pheromone stimulation. Once an omega’s cells reached the first stage, no matter their background or looks, they became a target for elite alphas seeking mates—a mark of superior lineage, promising strong genes to their offspring.
Yuan Mi went silent, not daring to act out.
He couldn’t compare to this furious rabbit omega. Yan Yi might be a one-in-a-million elite omega.
“Your… name?” Yuan Mi asked cautiously.
“Yan Yi,” he said.
Yuan Mi widened his eyes, staring in disbelief.
The legendary true wife of Lu Shangjin, Yan Yi, was working as a butler in his house.
For the next three days, Lu Shangjin didn’t return to the villa. Yan Yi received a new task—attending to Lu Shangjin’s mistress.
It was a wordless humiliation. Yan Yi closed his phone, leaning against the VIP room exterior, crouching, lighting a cigarette.
Lu Shangjin was ruthless.
Sitting by the office floor-to-ceiling window after a video meeting, his coffee now lukewarm, he watched the photos of the little rabbit butler. Squatting outside the hospital room, smoking, eyes hollow, staring at the floor—so lonely and desolate.
His fingers caressed the photo. Lu Shangjin lit a cigarette.
Their compatibility was only 75%. Their tenuous connection had survived only by love. Separation was inevitable. An alpha with second-stage differentiated glandular cells faced endless worldly temptations. Marrying an omega with less than 80% compatibility would result in a monotonous relationship—a tragic marriage.
He had loved.
That floppy-eared, romantic, thoughtful omega, wielding a pair of camo UZIs with a rose in his mouth, would make any alpha’s heart race.
But he had grown tired. Any omega with over 80% compatibility felt softer, more comfortable. Especially when there were even higher-compatibility omegas presenting themselves—alphas obeyed pheromones; none would choose love over a better match.
Moreover, Yan Yi was extraordinary.
He poured out the lukewarm coffee, having his assistant brew a fresh cup.
A call came in, labeled “Lu Lin.”
Lu Shangjin answered impatiently.
His middle-aged father’s deep, commanding voice barked, “If I call this number again and you refuse, get out of the Lu family. You are no son of mine.”
Lu Shangjin inhaled, replying coolly, “I’m busy.”
Lu Lin issued a final ultimatum: “If you don’t bring Yan Yi home this weekend, don’t step foot in our house again.”
Lu Shangjin massaged his temple. “There are plenty of noble omegas. I’ve already parted ways with Yan Yi. Compatibility was low. I’m done.”
Lu Lin’s voice escalated to rage. “You can just discard an omega of that level? Find another omega of equal caliber, and I won’t say another word.”
Lu Shangjin’s patience wore thin. Lazily, indifferently: “He’s a rabbit. The chance of conceiving with him is 15%, and producing an alpha child only one-fifth. He might give birth to a litter of useless rabbit omegas. Lu family descendants don’t rely on a single omega. Enough said.”
Exasperated by his father’s pressure, Lu Shangjin grew increasingly averse to Yan Yi. Every time he saw that clean, handsome face, he felt irritated.
—
Yan Yi leaned against the hospital wall for a long time, nearly falling asleep. The sudden vibration of his phone startled him. Rabbits were easily frightened.
He held the phone blankly, breathing fast, heart racing. A normal phone vibration felt like a nuclear explosion to him; it took three minutes for his body to calm.
When he turned on the screen, the first message read:
“Come home tonight. Later.”
His soft, floppy ears twitched. Swallowing nervously, he felt as though he’d received a court summons, fearing what punishment lay behind the brief text.
He didn’t want to be restrained on a machine, tortured for twelve hours with a massager, alone in darkness—pain and confinement that terrified him.
This punishment was for the simple question he had asked in bed: “Jin, can you mark me?”
But the message didn’t inquire about Yuan Mi’s injury. Yan Yi relaxed slightly. Lu Shangjin didn’t seem to care much for Yuan Mi. The love he had once given was rare and precious—Yan Yi still remembered.
He was relieved Yuan Mi hadn’t received the same cherished favor, and jealousy eased.
Half an hour later, Yan Yi returned to the villa. He changed into his butler uniform. The wound on his hand was minor; compared to his bullet holes, it was slight. He applied a bandage for reassurance, ensuring the injury wouldn’t hurt if it brushed against anything hard.
He washed vegetables for dinner and glanced at the quartz clock—3 PM.
Lu Shangjin had said he would return late. Yan Yi picked a carrot from the rack and settled on the sofa to watch a DVD.
It was an old film from years ago. Lu Shangjin had taken him to the theater, and Yan Yi would always revisit it, imagining the gentle touch, the kisses on the sensitive inner rabbit ears, a playful confession: “Sir, I like this.”
His floppy ears twitched in response to the touching scenes, nibbling the carrot in small bites.
After finishing, he carefully stored the DVD in a hidden drawer beneath a notebook, then prepared dinner.
At the entrance, the sound of a key turned—Lu Shangjin returned earlier than expected, carrying the chill of the outside air.
Yan Yi tensed, quickly pocketing the leftover carrot stem and receiving Lu Shangjin’s coat.
Lu Shangjin casually tossed him a black gift box.
Yan Yi held it hesitantly, ears perking as he tried to discern the contents. After a pause, he asked, “Sir, this is for me?”
Lu Shangjin nonchalantly replied, “I remembered it’s your birthday today.”
The simple words felt like a spring rain to Yan Yi’s parched heart, gently nourishing a seed long dormant until a tender green sprout broke through, blooming into a small pink flower.
“My birthday,” Yan Yi choked up.
It didn’t matter that he hadn’t received gifts in years.
His eyes curved into a gentle smile as he fumbled with the ribbon, trying to appear composed. Lu Shangjin disliked exaggerated gestures.
He asked while unwrapping, “A German silencer? A sniper scope? Or that rare nine-inch folding platinum muzzle?”
Inside the box was a sparkling brooch—a shiny carrot.
Time froze for Yan Yi as he stared at the gift, holding the box in awe.
Lu Shangjin lazily browsed a film, casually commenting, “The designer only made one. Unique piece.”
Even mass-produced versions of such a peculiar design wouldn’t sell. He didn’t understand omega aesthetics—perhaps it was meant for a delicate floppy-eared omega.
Yan Yi pinned the carrot brooch onto his dark butler uniform and sincerely said, “I really like it.”
Lu Shangjin nodded. “Hungry? Go cook.”
“Yes, sir.” Yan Yi kept glancing at the brooch, his ears flushed red, and it was obvious how happy he was despite his restraint.
“Thank you, Jin.” Yan Yi couldn’t help but say, and his fluffy tail lifted a small bulge in the back of his uniform.
Lu Shangjin’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Go then.”