He had a fever caused by overuse of his gland, combined with chronic mental exhaustion and prolonged stress, which led to a disruption in glandular secretion.
A family doctor had already visited that morning, administered an IV drip, and given Lu Shangjin an energy injection.
When he woke, Lu Shangjin instinctively reached for the person sleeping beside him—only to feel nothing but cold, empty sheets. His eyes snapped open. A medical bandage was stuck on the back of his hand.
Ever since dismissing the housekeeper, every breakfast had been personally prepared by Lu Shangjin. He checked the time—already nine o’clock.
“Yan Yan.” He hurried downstairs in slippers.
Yan Yi was in the kitchen frying eggs.
The eggs were cooked to a perfect golden color. Yan Yi methodically placed one onto a slice of bread, added evenly cut ham, and laid down rinsed lettuce leaves.
He was barefoot in soft slippers, lightly rubbing his heel against the floor.
Through the glass door, Lu Shangjin stood frozen, watching him. Without realizing it, he stepped closer and pressed his fingertips against the glass, as though he could touch Yan Yi’s lowered eyelashes through it.
He wished time could stop right here.
Yan Yi noticed him, opened the door, and carried two plates of breakfast out. Lu Shangjin quickly took them and set them down, blowing on his slightly burned fingers.
“Feeling better?” Yan Yi checked his forehead. “You were pretty bad last night.”
“It’s already 9:30. I wanted to wake you, but you didn’t look well, so I let you sleep. Hope I didn’t mess up your meetings.”
“No meetings today. I’m not going in.” Lu Shangjin held the hand on his forehead and pressed it against his cheek. “I asked someone to bring the car back and bought groceries. I was going to make vegetable porridge this morning.”
He finished every bite of breakfast cleanly, even the milk, like a child eager to be praised.
Yan Yi watched him.
“Does it taste good?”
Lu Shangjin nodded repeatedly.
Even the simplest sandwich, as long as it was made by Yan Yi, carried a faint sweetness like milk candy when he ate it.
“…Do you really like me that much?” Yan Yi asked, sitting on the chair’s footrest with his arms folded. “What’s so special about me?”
Lu Shangjin answered without hesitation, abandoning all his usual charm and restraint. “You’re special. You’re someone I can’t lose.” Like rain and rainbows falling onto his youth.
Yan Yi smiled, then flicked his little rabbit ears in mild distress. Being placed under such heavy affection felt suffocating.
Later, there was no time to dwell on it. Lu Shangjin took leave and brought him on a long trip through Europe.
On the return private jet, Yan Yi studied the travel photos sent by the photographer.
Lu Shangjin held him by the shoulder. “Pick your favorite. I’ll frame it for our bedroom. I’ll also clear a wall in my study for all of them.”
“Won’t that interfere with your work?” Yan Yi leaned against him, yawning slightly after a while.
“Not at all. Looking at you gives me energy.” Lu Shangjin kissed his hair. “Sleep if you’re tired.”
Yan Yi worried about numbing his shoulder, but Lu Shangjin refused to let go, so he eventually fell asleep leaning on him.
His alpha always released an excessive amount of soothing pheromones. Wrapped in them, it felt like sinking into a soft down comforter.
Before landing, he was awakened by a kiss, covered with a thin blanket to avoid startling him during turbulence.
After leaving the airport, Lu Shangjin frowned slightly, scanning the surroundings. The air carried a faint, restless pressure.
He tightened his grip on Yan Yi’s hand and quickened his pace toward the car.
“What’s wrong?” Yan Yi raised his rabbit ears, listening.
“The smell of pests,” Lu Shangjin said, opening the door and retrieving a silver briefcase from the trunk before getting in.
The driver was supposed to take them home, but Lu Shangjin checked the time and ordered them back to the villa first.
Yan Yi sensed the shift in his alpha’s aura and moved slightly away.
“Don’t be scared, baby.” Lu Shangjin kissed his forehead. “It’s fine.”
Yan Yi clutched his collar. The faint oppressive scent of water lily pheromones seeped into his gland, making him uncomfortable as he instinctively held his aching lower abdomen.
The black Bentley moved steadily through the night road.
Lu Shangjin leaned back, buckled Yan Yi’s seatbelt, and gently patted him to soothe him, while his left hand tapped the silver briefcase rhythmically.
His low voice broke the silence.
“One. On three, turn the wheel all the way left.”
The driver froze, then obeyed instinctively.
“One… two…”
A red laser sight drifted onto the tire.
“Three.”
The car screeched violently as it swerved off the road. A bullet struck the pavement where it had just been.
“Stay in the car,” Lu Shangjin said, half-kneeling on the seat to steady Yan Yi’s pale face. “The glass is bulletproof. Don’t come out.”
He looked at the driver. “Take the S-curve forward. Don’t stop at red lights.”
The driver nodded shakily.
Lu Shangjin jumped from the speeding car, rolled across the road, and landed in the roadside greenery just as a sniper round missed him by inches.
Hundreds of meters away stood an office building. A shadow on the rooftop was preparing to flee.
Lu Shangjin pressed all elevator buttons, then sprinted up the stairs.
By the third floor, he had discarded the briefcase, now carrying a shotgun and dual MP433 pistols, climbing at full speed.
The sniper realized the trap and descended via external cable.
At the fifteenth floor, as he slowed to land, he passed a window—and met the eyes of a cold figure waiting inside.
The glass shattered.
A powerful arm dragged him through, slamming him onto the broken floor.
No creature could surpass the speed of a peregrine falcon strike—not even an M2 golden eagle alpha.
Pinned down by iron-like strength, the sniper struggled. Lu Shangjin pressed the muzzle against the neck marked “PBB000099” and fired without hesitation.
The gunshot echoed through the building.
The elevator reached the fifteenth floor at that exact moment.
Doors opened.
Gunfire erupted into the darkness—but the room was empty.
Smoke bombs detonated. Visibility dropped to near zero.
Lu Shangjin closed the elevator, fired into the confined space, and shattered the smoke detector.
Inside the darkness, he moved like a predator.
Two pistols. Controlled bursts. Headshots.
Three minutes later, he was already back downstairs.
The black Bentley returned from the left.
“Why are you back? I told you to take him away!” Lu Shangjin rushed forward—
Then froze.
A gun was aimed directly at him.
Yan Yi stood there, expression cold.
“Yan Yan… it’s me…”
A flash of light.
A shot rang out behind him—an attacker collapsed.
The night was cold.
Lu Shangjin tightened his coat.
Something inside him had gone cold beyond repair.
He once built a snow rabbit in winter, carefully protecting it—
but it had melted in the first spring night.
Yan Yi lit a cigarette, leaned against the car door, and looked down through the smoke.
After a long silence, he tapped ash away.
“Brother Jin,” he said lightly. “Aren’t you going to say something?”
“You should go sober up first.” Yan Yi pushed away the alcohol-soaked body in front of him. Lu Shangjin staggered back half a step.
For a few seconds he stood dazed, then noticed the hamster omega beside Yan Yi, who was awkwardly stepping back.
Yan Yi’s weak voice on the phone echoed in his mind:
“Brother Jin, do you really like hamsters that much? If I pin up my ears, I also look like one.”
Lu Shangjin ignored the push and hugged Yan Yi tightly. “Not a hamster. Not a hamster. Rabbits are cute.”
“Let’s talk when we get back.” Yan Yi sat on a high stool, peeling him off with effort, greeting Tan Meng and Cang Xiaoer before dragging Lu Shangjin out.
When Yan Yi returned from getting sobering tea, Lu Shangjin was gone.
He found him collapsed by the toilet.
“How much did you drink?”
“Eight liang, nine liang.” Lu Shangjin leaned against the wall, staring at the ceiling light.
“Don’t look at the light.”
“I’m looking at you.” He pulled Yan Yi’s hand away. “You’re my light.”
Later, Yan Yi cleaned the restaurant. The kitchen was full of unfinished dough and chopped ingredients.
Lu Shangjin came up behind him and started helping, unsteady but earnest, carefully cleaning knives and chopsticks.
“You must be tired carrying the baby around all day. Go rest. I’ll handle this.”
His hand trembled. He cut himself slightly.
“Enough.” Yan Yi tended to his wound, then left upstairs.
Lu Shangjin stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching him disappear.
That night Yan Yi lay awake. At midnight, Lu Shangjin came in as usual, releasing calming pheromones.
Yan Yi stayed still with eyes closed, accepting it only because refusal felt harder.
But tonight the scent was weaker, unstable.
Lu Shangjin lay nearby but did not hold him.
“Is the compatibility really that low?” Yan Yi asked.
Silence.
“…Is it completely useless?”
“…No.”
The pheromones intensified.
“Now?”
No answer.
Eventually he left.
Yan Yi lay in darkness scrolling through old photos, crying silently.
The next morning, the assistant mentioned the curtains were chosen by Lu Shangjin.
Yan Yi smiled faintly—then froze.
He threw away the flowers Lu Shangjin brought.
“Put those in your room. They smell disgusting.”
That night, Lu Shangjin kissed him and asked about movies.
“I don’t like movies that much,” Yan Yi said.
He left him sitting alone on the stairs.
Later that night, Yan Yi found him asleep in the study, surrounded by PBB files.
On the wall were framed photos of them.
And baby clothes.