Lu Shangjin silently set the spoon back into the soup bowl and, holding Yan Yi under his armpits, helped him straddle his lap.
Yan Yi turned his head to the side.
“Look at me,” Lu Shangjin said, cupping Yan Yi’s face and guiding his gaze to meet his eyes. “Baby, do you recognize me?”
Yan Yi stared at him, mouth slightly parted, eyes unfocused—he wasn’t even sure if he was looking at Lu Shangjin’s eyes.
Lu Shangjin’s heart ached seeing him like this. He supported Yan Yi’s back and brought him closer, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips.
Yan Yi lowered his eyelids, his little rabbit ears flopping lazily onto Lu Shangjin’s face.
He stared at the ring on Lu Shangjin’s left hand for a moment, then whispered, “Lu Shangjin…”
Lu Shangjin’s shoulder twitched, a wave of emotion passing through him as he stroked Yan Yi’s back. “It’s me.”
“Lu Shangjin…” Yan Yi clutched his small stomach as if warding off a sudden pain, curling his body like a cooked shrimp, a hand pressing down on his abdomen as if something was clawing inside.
“I’m sorry, sorry, baby.” Lu Shangjin scooped some lukewarm winter melon soup for him. “Eat a little, then we’ll go upstairs to rest.”
Yan Yi’s eyelashes fluttered as he looked up, eyes filled with a piercing, wounded expression. Suddenly, he raised his hand, swatting the spoon from Lu Shangjin’s hand, and upended the bowl of soup.
The liquid splashed across the floor; the wooden bowl rolled several meters away, alone.
“I don’t like Lu Shangjin,” Yan Yi said, climbing down from Lu Shangjin’s lap and heading back to the storage room to find the wardrobe.
Lu Shangjin sat in silence for a long while, lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and in a few puffs finished it. Then he crouched to clean up the scattered bowls, utensils, and spilled soup.
Inside the tightly shut wardrobe, Yan Yi nestled, reaching into the pillow and feeling his phone, which still had a bit of battery left.
He idly scrolled through Weibo.
The only celebrity he followed, Yuan Mi, had recently posted an announcement: a photo of a marriage certificate with an alpha, along with a photo of the two together.
Yan Yi tried hard to recall, vaguely remembering that this person had once made him dislike him.
He repeatedly touched the image of the marriage certificate with his fingertips and saved it to his album.
There was a video call screenshot in his album: an alpha in a cross-collared bathrobe, smiling warmly at the camera.
“Lu Shangjin…” Yan Yi held the phone, staring at it for a long time. The alpha’s sharp features, once familiar through countless touches, now felt forgotten.
A throbbing headache set in.
As the numbing toxin faded, both muddled and clear memories surged into his mind, bringing back several unforgettable, painful moments.
The submissive love of that omega.
Lu Shangjin had once pinned that omega from behind, pressing him against the floor-to-ceiling window, his deep, sexy voice guiding him: “Lower your waist, raise your hips, spread your legs.”
The omega braced his hands on the glass, eyes closed, convincing himself that no one could see him in such a compromising position with a suited man pressing him from behind.
Lu Shangjin lifted his chin with one hand and commanded softly: “Open your eyes.”
The omega trembled; Lu Shangjin’s grip on him was rough. His right hand clenched the pale, delicate neck until the omega’s hands instinctively pressed against it, trying to pry it away in suffocating pain.
The alpha’s overpowering presence enveloped him, leaving the omega utterly defenseless. Legs quivering, his body nearly collapsing under his own weight.
Lu Shangjin looked at his weakness, his tears and unease, and repeatedly exerted his alpha dominance, gently kissing the soft, dangling rabbit ears and stroking the base of his fluffy tail.
The omega’s submissive instincts made him want to yield to Lu Shangjin from the heart, yet because Lu Shangjin no longer loved him, every encounter brought pain.
Even so, he still wanted Lu Shangjin to be his alpha.
Yan Yi reached out, wanting to pull the suffering omega close. “No, you come here, silly rabbit,” he murmured sadly.
Lu Shangjin kissed the omega’s neck glands, the sweet, milky pheromones teasing him irresistibly, drawing him to press his lips there.
The omega’s voice quivered, and for a brief, omitted moment, he whispered, lost in desire: “Master… bite me, mark me, make me your omega…”
Lu Shangjin sealed his lips with a kiss, using his tongue with skilled precision until the omega, exhausted, knelt by the window, waiting for his next dominance.
Lu Shangjin lit a cigarette, inhaled, exhaled a slow plume, and pressed the smoldering tip against the omega’s thigh.
Even bullets couldn’t hurt as much as this faint spark, and because it was Lu Shangjin, the omega didn’t dare pull away.
“Stop…” Yan Yi dropped to his knees, hands shielding the omega’s skin, desperately trying to protect him. “Don’t endure it… it never ends.”
The omega trembled, tail flicking, as Lu Shangjin held him tight, forbidding movement. The burning cigarette seared his pale skin, tears spilling as he convulsed, apologizing: “I’m sorry, sorry, Master! I was wrong!”
Lu Shangjin tossed the cigarette, kissed the soft rabbit ears, and whispered: “Sorry it hurt, but right now, you’re just my steward. Don’t forget—I hate questions about marking.”
“Yes…” the omega knelt on the cold floor. Hearing Lu Shangjin’s phone ring, Lu Shangjin answered and tossed a sheath toward the omega before leaving the office.
“It’s too tight. Won’t work. Change it, then take your medicine so you don’t cause trouble for me.”
With the office door closed, the omega curled up, struggling to retrieve the useless sheath from the floor, stashing it in a suit pocket, then putting on his clothes and taking the car keys home.
In the car was a box of bandages; he tore one and applied it to the burn on his thigh.
Yan Yi knew: his car always carried a box of bandages.
Because the droopy-eared rabbit was fragile and prone to injury, his alpha always accidentally hurt him.
He tried to read the care hidden in Lu Shangjin’s eyes.
Yan Yi grabbed the omega’s collar, asking worriedly, “What happened… doesn’t it hurt?”
The omega paused, frowned slightly, and smiled softly, intertwining fingers with Yan Yi. Their wedding rings clinked. “I love him… I’ll wait for him to love me back.”
“Will I get to wait? Honestly… I’m… a little tired.” The rabbit omega smiled wearily.
Yan Yi pressed on his temples, fighting to suppress the agonizing memories: “No… that’s not me… that’s not me…”
The omega in his memories was so submissive it terrified him. He wished he could step into the past and end the suffering version of himself with a single shot.
Yan Yi buried his face under the pillow, trembling. A small, fierce arm seemed to wrap around his waist again, pressing down on him, blood pooling between his legs, heart and abdomen throbbing painfully.
“…Don’t come near me… I’m not…” Yan Yi rolled inside the wardrobe, clutching his head. “Don’t remember…”
He opened his eyes, horrified, to see Shao Wenjing’s hands on his wrists, golden metallic eyes gleaming as he licked his lips and smiled: “A3 glands are really strong.”
Lu Lin held his ankles, grinning sinisterly: “Guiding limb regeneration—you’ll succeed. Hang in there…”
Yan Yi slammed against the wardrobe wall, falling headfirst.
Suddenly, he landed in a warm embrace.
Lu Shangjin caught him, scooping up the little rabbit, soothing his arms. He whispered softly, “It’s okay, brother’s here.”
Yan Yi gazed blankly, tears streaming down his face.
“Don’t cry, think of nothing. I sent someone to get pumpkin; you’ll eat some later,” Lu Shangjin soothed as he wiped his tears.
Yan Yi curled into Lu Shangjin’s chest, clutching his collar tightly, nostrils flaring, dark eyes trembling.
“Why didn’t you mark me… I’m not afraid… not of gland hunters, not of Lu Lin… I’m A3… PBB’s strongest droopy-eared rabbit. I don’t need… fake protection…”
“You… were so harsh… you said you’re tired of me… tell me, just tell me.”
He was terrified.
Seeing him like this broke Lu Shangjin’s heart.
“I was blinded by compatibility, vain, indulging… I’m not tired of you… but now, really, I can’t mark you.” Lu Shangjin held him tightly, gently biting the skin at the side of the little rabbit’s neck, leaving a faint mark.
The little rabbit quieted, bowing his head, carefully feeling the mark.
Yan Yi’s glands had already been marked and washed once; even a high-compatibility alpha might not overwrite it. His glands couldn’t withstand reckless experiments.
Just then, the assistant delivered the pumpkin. Lu Shangjin stroked Yan Yi’s hair: “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
He went to collect the pumpkin while Yan Yi sat quietly in the storage room.
After a while, Yan Yi smiled faintly, gently swinging his legs, carefully touching the shallow bite mark on his neck.
The mark faded.
The warmth on Yan Yi’s face gradually withdrew.
A cold voice echoed in his ears: “Our compatibility is so low, Yan Yan… so low…”
“Yan Yan…”
Lu Shangjin returned, holding a small pumpkin, intending to carry Yan Yi to the kitchen. Opening the storage room door, his hand trembled in shock.
Yan Yi sat in the wardrobe, a gun hidden somewhere in his hands, aimed at his glands.
The pumpkin rolled away from his feet.
“Bang!”
The unsilenced gunshot rang sharply.
Yan Yi—instantaneously consuming all of Lu Shangjin’s gland energy through his partner ability—was yanked from the wardrobe and thrown to the floor in Lu Shangjin’s arms.
A blood trail smeared across the floor.
Thick plasma flowed from the glands at the back of his neck, pooling like spilled red wine.
The gun clattered to the floor. Yan Yi released his fingers, lips curving in a faint, liberated smile.