Lan Bo looked at him and couldn’t resist brushing aside the strands of hair blocking his eyes, gently flicking his eyelashes with his knuckles. His half-reclining posture had left two creases on the side of his face pressed against the pillow; Lan Bo smoothed them out with a light touch of his fingertip.
Bai Chunian’s eyelashes fluttered. He half-opened his eyes, drowsy, and upon seeing Lan Bo lying right beside him, he closed them again in relief. He pressed his body against Lan Bo’s, nudging him until he turned onto his side. He wrapped his arms around the omega’s waist, clinging to him from behind.
Lan Bo lay with his back to him. The Alpha behind him was naked, his scorching chest pressed tightly against Lan Bo’s spine. His high, straight nose brushed against the back of Lan Bo’s neck, nuzzling close to the hollow of his shoulder.
“Good morning, honey.” His voice was soft, lazy, and husky, trailing off with a sticky, lingering tone.
“It’s already afternoon,” said Lan Bo.
Bai Chu let out a young-sounding “Oh,” turned to glance at the clock. The wall clock was expensive and elegant—clearly not his taste. “Huh? Whose place is this? Where are we?”
“Dr. Han’s place.” Lan Bo glanced back at him. “You’re the one who rescued me from that sea of aphids. Forgotten?”
“Oh… no wonder it smells like roasted sunflower seeds.” Bai Chunyan lazily crawled back under the covers, hugged Lan Bo, and sniffed him with his eyes closed for a while. He slipped his hand into Lan Bo’s shorts and idly played with his “treasure.” After a moment, he said slowly, “I vaguely remember.”
“Oh, right.” Bai Chunian suddenly snapped to attention, propping himself up to help Lan Bo lie flat. He pulled up Lan Bo’s T-shirt and saw the haphazardly wrapped bandage on his chest. His brows knitted together. “Is this okay? Does it still hurt?”
“It doesn’t hurt as long as you don’t touch it.” Lan Bo sat up too, propping himself up with one hand on the bed while the other lifted the hem of his shirt to check if any blood was seeping through. “I’m fine. I’ve been in plenty of fights when I was younger; this isn’t a serious injury.”
“Tsk, you’re still young. By merfolk standards, you’re not old at all.” Bai Chunian smoothed his hair back with a finger. “Wait a minute—I’ll go find a pair of boxers to put on.”
Lan Bo pointed to the low cabinet: “Dr. Han just had someone bring these over.”
Bai Chunian grabbed a clean pair of underwear and put them on, then stood in front of the full-length mirror, staring blankly.
Lan Bo peered over and burst out laughing.
The underwear was printed with a pattern of cartoon cat heads.
“What’s this? Why? Did I offend him?” Bai Chunian had no choice but to pull on a pair of black shorts and a plain black tank top, asking as he dressed, “Is the ship okay? No casualties, right? I need to go back to the Investigation Division to check. You come with me—I’ll have Brother Han rebandage you. You’ve wrapped it too tightly; I can tell.”
“Dr. Han said you can’t leave right now. You have to stay here until they get the growth hormone and your body is completely stabilized. Until then, you’ll have to keep getting the dissociative agent injections.” Lan Bo had no choice but to explain Bai Chunian’s current situation to him in full detail, which inevitably meant recounting what had happened that morning when Dr. Han and the others came to see him.
After listening, Bai Chunian froze by the bedside, staring blankly for half a minute before slowly sliding back onto the bed, burying his head under the pillow.
Lan Bo climbed up and shook him. Bai Chunian twitched slightly and muttered hoarsely, “If an atomic bomb were about to explode right in front of my face in a minute and I could only say one thing, I’d say, ‘Don’t save me. Thanks.’”
“Ah, never mind.” Bai Chunian pulled his head out from under the pillow and, still worried, lifted Lan Bo’s shirt. “Are you really okay? Unbutton your shirt so I can check the wound.”
Lan Bo took off his shirt and used a water-hardened steel knife to cut through the bandages on his body, unwinding them one by one.
“See?”
His back was covered with a full-back flame lion pattern—the permanent mark Bai Chunian had left on him. Beneath the lion pattern lay indelible scars, but because the lion mark was so bold and vivid, the faint scars beneath it were barely visible.
The bandages fell one by one onto the bed; even the innermost layer was barely stained with blood. When Lan Bo peeled back the final bandage, Bai Chunian saw the wound on his chest.
It was a through-and-through wound, piercing from his back all the way through his sternum. For a human, even if the injury hadn’t been inflicted by a lethal weapon like the Dead Sea Heartstone Blade, death would have been inevitable—yet Lan Bo was still able to chat and joke with him.
His wound was also unlike that of an ordinary person; the edges of the incision were neat and smooth, the bloodstains had all been purified away, and the surrounding skin was clean and white.
“Oh…” Bai Chunian reached out repeatedly with a pained heart, yet dared not touch him for fear of causing him pain.
“My body is quite interesting. Let me show you.” Lan Bo wrapped his arms around Bai Chunian’s neck, pulling him down to look at his wound.
Through the unhealed gash, Bai Chunian glimpsed not raw, crimson flesh, but a deep blue, surging current.
“Touch it.” ” Lan Bo grabbed Bai Chunian’s hand, guiding his fingertips to touch the wound and slowly sliding them inside.
Bai Chunian’s eyes widened: “Stop! That must hurt!”
“It doesn’t hurt. As long as it’s not the Dead Sea Heartstone, I won’t get hurt.” Lan Bo gripped his wrist and whispered, “Close your eyes. You’ll feel something wonderful.”
Bai Chunian was still shaken, but he obeyed and closed his eyes. He felt his hand being gently washed by a surge of icy seawater. Inside Lan Bo’s body was not flesh and organs, but something far more sacred and gentle—the sea.
As the cool water flowed through his fingertips, Bai Chunian felt as though he were touching the boundless void. His mind grew calm, and his breathing steadied.
Suddenly, his fingertips seemed to brush against something hard and angular. It was very cold, much colder than the surrounding temperature—it felt like a piece of ore. Bai Chunian traced the edge of the ore with his fingers. When he reached the upper left corner, he discovered a missing piece.
The shape of the notch was exactly like the gemstone set in the fishbone earring Bai Chunian was wearing at that moment.
“This is my heart, and it is also the source of all water on this planet. I broke off a small piece for you before.” Lan Bo leaned close to him and chuckled softly in his ear, “This is my most precious possession. Humans call it a ‘mission’—that word fits perfectly.”
Lan Bo guided his hand out of the water. Bai Chunian stared at his hand in astonishment. There was no blood or water on it, but the fine lines on his skin had faded significantly, and his nails had grown considerably longer.
“Well? Wasn’t that fun?” Lan Bo used water-hardened steel scissors to trim his nails. “The Heart of the Living, the Source of Life—it’s the opposite of the Dead Sea Heartstone I gave you.”
“Wow, that’s amazing…” Bai Chunian compared his two hands in astonishment. The hand he’d just withdrawn looked like that of a newborn—smooth and white, with all the calluses and scars from handling guns gone.
He fetched the first-aid kit, opened a fresh pack of bandages, and carefully wrapped the wound around Lan Bo’s skin, tying a neat little bow at his side. Then he cradled Lan Bo between his legs, wrapped his arms around him, rested his chin on his shoulder, and nuzzled him dejectedly.
“Why are you still upset? I told you it doesn’t hurt.” Lan Bo raised a hand to rub his face. “I’m trying so hard to cheer you up.”
“I don’t know. You want to prove you won’t die, but I feel like you’ve become more fragile. You don’t seem like a real-life creature—you’re not just a figment of my imagination, are you? I’m a little scared of what’s going on.” Bai Chunian released soothing pheromones to help his wound heal faster. “You don’t need to cheer me up. The happiest moment is when I open my eyes and see you first thing in the morning.”
Lan Bo laughed again, turned around, and sat on Bai Chunian’s lap. He wrapped his arms around Bai Chunian’s neck, tilted his head, and kissed his lips, his tongue teasing the tip of Bai Chunian’s teeth. “Obe?”
Bai Chunian’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
The doorbell downstairs suddenly rang, interrupting their mood. Bai Chunian suddenly remembered they were at Han Ge’s place; acting so boldly in his bed meant he’d surely be scolded again once they got back.
Han Xingqian received a message from Lan Bo saying Bai Chunian had returned to his human form, so he put down his work, grabbed some medication and monitoring equipment, and drove over.
It was still Lan Bo who opened the door. As soon as it swung open, a cloying scent of white rose and brandy wafted out. Han Xingqian knew exactly what they’d been up to in his home. He sighed deeply, a headache setting in, and asked, “Is there something about my office and home that’s so appealing to you two?”
Lan Bo was in a good mood and curled the corners of his lips. “So, what reward do you want?”
“Come on. Last time you tossed a Han Dynasty artifact at my teacher and scared the old man half to death.” Han Xingqian rarely saw him smile, and he couldn’t help but be momentarily dazzled by that striking face. Lan Bo was indeed handsome, possessing a kind of otherworldly beauty and nobility.
He followed Lan Bo upstairs and asked as they went, “Is he asleep right now?”
“He’s awake. He’s out on the balcony getting some fresh air.”
Lan Bo pushed open the bedroom door. Since the balcony doors and windows were wide open, the pheromones inside had mostly dissipated. Bai Chunian stood by the balcony railing, his back to them, seemingly intently watching two sparrows perched on the railing.
“Xiao Bai.” Han Xingqian called out to him, but Bai Chunian didn’t respond.
Lan Bo also sensed something was wrong and hurried toward the balcony. But Bai Chunian’s left hand had already transformed into a lion’s paw. With lightning-fast reflexes, he grabbed one of the sparrows perched on the railing. The bird was instantly impaled by his sharp claws. Bai Chunian crouched down, shoved the half-dead sparrow into his mouth, and swallowed it whole, then licked the blood from the tip of his claw.
Lan Bo froze. Bai Chunian whipped his head around; the corners of his eyes were turned upward, the pupils gone from their centers, his entire eyes ablaze with blue ghostly flames—much like his lion-like form from the night before.
Han Xingqian ordered decisively, “Lan Bo, hold him down!”
He set down the equipment case and, together with Lan Bo, charged at him from opposite sides of the balcony. Just as Bai Chunian was about to leap over the railing, they pulled him back down. Han Xingqian pinned his legs, while Lan Bo pinned him to the ground, twisted his arms behind his back, and used a Dead Sea Heartstone chain attached to his collar to bind him tightly.
It took them over ten minutes to subdue Bai Chunian, who had nearly transformed into a lion again. He thrashed and rolled on the ground, roaring—no different from a raging beast.
Han Xingqian wiped the sweat from his brow, instructing Lan Bo to hold him down while he took out a dissociation agent. He lifted the fabric on Bai Chunian’s back, ran his fingertips along the spine until he found the right spot, and swiftly inserted the thin, flexible needle. As the agent was injected into the spinal column, only then did the blue demonic fire in Bai Chunian’s eyes die out once more. The white lion’s form faded from his body, and he collapsed weakly onto his side on the ground, his pupils dilated, mouth slightly agape as he gasped for breath.
Lan Bo had a bloody scratch on his face from Bai Chunian’s claws, and Han Xingqian tended to it for him as well.
Lan Bo showed little emotion; the wound on his face slowly healed, but his gaze grew somber. Sitting silently on the ground with his hands resting on his knees, he watched Xiao Bai lying there, his eyes unfocused and breathing weakly. He gently brushed against his fingertips and muttered to himself, “He was fine just a moment ago.”
“This is the ‘Evil Manifestation Phase,’ a precursor to the ‘Deterioration Phase.’ Indiscriminate destruction and slaughter are their default programming. Even though Xiaobai has lived among us for four years and his instincts have been assimilated by humans, he still cannot resist his nature. Releasing him would cause widespread disaster, just like the Eternal Undead.” Han Xingqian took out a monitoring device and attached it to Bai Chunian, then drew several vials of blood from him.
After being injected with the dissociative agent, Bai Chunian was too weak to move. Lan Bo carried him to the bed, then used Dead Sea Heartstone to restrain his neck and limbs, before securely locking all the doors and windows on the balcony.
“I don’t plan to risk transferring him just yet. A few senior professors from the Medical Association will be coming over for a consultation shortly. Let’s wait a bit—don’t worry.” Han Xingqian left the monitoring equipment in the bedroom. After all that hustle and bustle, his throat was parched, so he went to the break room to pour himself a glass of water.
Lan Bo sat across from him, holding the cup of black tea Han Xingqian had handed him, staring out the window in a daze.
“By the way, I heard that the fishermen rescued by the PBB ship have signed a petition to the Fisheries Association asking to erect a statue of you in Binhai Square.” Han Xingqian wanted to lighten Lan Bo’s mood, so he pulled out his phone to show him photos from the web, hoping to distract him and ease his anxiety.
“Look, the area’s already been cordoned off. People in coastal cities are all talking about you now, and it’s even in the news.”
Lan Bo wasn’t interested. He kept staring out the window and said indifferently, “I don’t need people to validate my worth, nor am I as selfless and compassionate as they imagine. If the lives of an entire ship’s crew could bring him back to his senses, I’d sink them without batting an eye. Unfortunately, that’s not possible. No one can bring my Xiaobai back. All I can do is watch him drift further and further away from me.”