He cried himself out and fell asleep, drowsy and exhausted, wrapped in the calming pheromones released by Lu Shangjin.
Lu Shangjin lay on his side with his head propped up, watching him. Yan Yi was curled into a tight ball, his fingers still weakly clutching at Lu Shangjin’s clothes.
He pulled out a tissue and bent a finger slightly, gently wiping away the tears on the little rabbit’s eyelashes. Tomorrow, his eyes would probably be swollen.
It was rare to see Yan Yi cry so heartbreakingly. In his memory, Yan Yi had always cried very few times. Deep down, he carried the pride of a high-level omega—quiet, restrained, burying all emotions within himself.
“Crying it out is good,” Lu Shangjin murmured softly, stroking his soft hair, guilt and regret weighing down his voice.
No matter how many cloned cells there were—thousands upon thousands—his Yan Yan was still the one and only.
During the days of caring for Yan Yi, Lu Shangjin had developed a fixed biological clock, waking at exactly seven in the morning to prepare breakfast for him.
Pregnant omegas needed proper nutrition. Every meal plan was designed by a professional nutritionist, which made cooking slightly complicated, and buying food outside was too risky.
When Lu Shangjin got up, Yan Yi was still tugging at the hem of his clothes.
The warm water lily scent that had been wrapped around him left, and Yan Yi shivered, clutching tightly onto the pillow and hugging the blanket.
Lu Shangjin hurried back, kneeling on the bed to kiss his forehead. Yan Yi slowly opened his eyes, still groggy and confused.
“I’m going to make breakfast. Sleep a little more,” Lu Shangjin said patiently, releasing calming pheromones. “Don’t panic if you don’t see me when you wake up.”
Only then did Yan Yi drift back into sleep, his tightly curled body relaxing slightly.
“Good boy,” Lu Shangjin murmured, tucking his little tail back into his sleep pants and adjusting his waistband.
It looked like he couldn’t let Yan Yi sleep alone anymore. He hadn’t expected him to be so restless during pregnancy—without calming pheromones, he would toss and turn anxiously.
Yan Yi woke at 8:30, reaching for his phone, only to freeze when he saw the lock screen.
It was a photo of his hand wearing a ring intertwined with Lu Shangjin’s—dim lighting, the image slightly blurred.
He turned it over and saw the back cover of the phone belonged to Lu Shangjin.
Looking around the room, he finally realized he had slept in Lu Shangjin’s bedroom.
A little flustered, Yan Yi instinctively protected his lower abdomen, sitting at the edge of the bed in a daze. His gaze landed on a wooden frame on the bedside table—it held a photo of them together.
Remembering his emotional outburst from last night, he buried his head in frustration. Why did he have to cry like that? He became overly sentimental at night.
He found his soft slippers neatly placed right by the bed, warm as if they had just been heated.
In the dining room, a warm aroma of porridge filled the air. Lu Shangjin was just setting out the bowls and chopsticks.
“You’re up early. I was just about to call you. It’s still hot,” he said.
A pot of fragrant vegetable and lean meat porridge was ready. As he was about to serve it, Yan Yi took the ladle from him and quietly served two bowls—taking one for himself and leaving the other untouched.
Lu Shangjin stared at the untouched bowl for ten seconds.
Then he suddenly went upstairs, took his phone, and snapped a picture of the porridge. He posted it with the caption: “My wife served me porridge.”
Xia Xiantian replied: “Sister-in-law is so talented.”
Bi Ruijing replied to Xia Xiantian: “He said served, not cooked. Can you read?”
Lu Shangjin thought for a moment, then deleted Bi Ruijing’s reply.
When he looked up again, Yan Yi was glancing at him. Yan Yi immediately lowered his gaze and continued eating.
“Eat more. I’ll be back late at noon,” Lu Shangjin said, placing some carrot-filled pastries onto his plate. “Try them—are they good?”
Yan Yi stared at the food, tightening his grip on his chopsticks slightly.
His appetite, which had been poor before, was slowly improving now.
“Is it good?” Lu Shangjin asked again, gently touching the back of his neck.
“If it’s not good, I’ll hire a cook.”
“No need,” Yan Yi said, avoiding his gaze, quickly finishing his bowl and retreating into the kitchen.
Lu Shangjin followed him in, circling an arm around him before he could turn on the tap.
“Don’t touch cold water before I come back. Not even warm water. Be obedient, okay?”
Yan Yi had nowhere to escape. He was gently lifted by the chin.
“Good boy,” Lu Shangjin whispered, kissing his ear. “I already miss you, and I haven’t even left yet.”
He stopped before Yan Yi could feel irritated or uncomfortable, then left for work after changing into a suit.
Yan Yi stood frozen for a moment after the door closed, then picked up his phone and called Doctor Zhong.
He asked about the details of his gland surgery, but the doctor suddenly excused himself and hung up.
Yan Yi didn’t think much of it at first, but unease slowly grew in his mind. Lu Shangjin’s injuries kept flashing through his thoughts.
Feeling increasingly restless, he left the house.
Spring rain had passed and warmth returned. Willow branches swayed gently in the breeze.
In a park, Tan Meng was playing with a toddler while holding a red balloon.
When he saw Yan Yi, he waved.
“Lu Shangjin didn’t come with you?” Tan Meng asked.
“No need,” Yan Yi replied.
He played with the child for a while, who laughed happily and grabbed his rabbit ears.
The child’s laughter softened something in Yan Yi’s eyes.
Not long after, Bi Ruijing arrived holding cotton candy and complained about Tan Meng, before taking the child into his arms.
Yan Yi unconsciously touched his lower abdomen and checked his phone.
There was a message from Lu Shangjin:
“The strawberries I washed in the morning are no longer cold. You can eat eight, not more. I love you, and I love our baby too.”
Yan Yi paused, then quietly deleted the message.
A few minutes later, he restored it.
He stayed outside until evening.
When he returned home, the lights were already on.
Through the glass door, he saw Lu Shangjin working on the balcony, kneeling while installing a height chart for the child.
He switched from right hand to left due to fatigue.
Yan Yi stood silently under the streetlight, watching him finish hammering each nail.
Then the streetlights along the road lit up one by one, illuminating the path home.
At bedtime, Lu Shangjin insisted on staying in the room to coax him to sleep.
Yan Yi let him be.
He wrapped Yan Yi in calming pheromones, holding him like a protective nest.
But when Lu Shangjin tried to touch his abdomen, Yan Yi suddenly stiffened and violently pushed his hand away, curling up in panic.
Lu Shangjin froze.
His heart felt like it was being poured with boiling oil.
He quickly pulled Yan Yi into his arms, stroking his head gently and whispering soothing words.
Yan Yi trembled, holding himself tightly.
Then, in a broken voice, he shouted:
“I’m just a cloned rabbit from experimental cells! If you want one, you can make thousands of them—why, why are you holding onto me?!”
“I have nothing special anymore! I don’t even have my A3 gland anymore! I have no value left! Let me go… I can’t… I really can’t accept this anymore…”
“You’re my wife,” Lu Shangjin held him tighter, voice shaking as he buried him against his shoulder.
“I’m sorry… I really am…”