Chapter 63: Please

Xu Lin’s fingers had not yet withdrawn from the muzzle guard when Ji Jinxuan, who should have been asleep, suddenly twitched and opened his eyes.

Their gazes met unexpectedly.

The room was filled with Xu Lin’s pheromones. Ji Jinxuan was still groggy, his eyes unfocused, resting vaguely on Xu Lin. He stared at the figure standing by his bed, his voice hoarse. “Xu Lin…”

Xu Lin said nothing. He withdrew his hand and let it fall to his side.

Ji Jinxuan’s fingers twitched, instinctively reaching for him, but the restraints held his wrists in place. He could not move.

He could not tell if this was a dream or reality. His eyes remained fixed on Xu Lin, afraid that if he blinked, the dream would end and Xu Lin would disappear.

“Mr. Xu Lin, please step aside.”

The doctor had returned, holding a syringe filled with clear liquid containing the pheromones just extracted from Xu Lin.

Xu Lin stepped back to make room.

Ji Jinxuan could not bear his departure, even if only a step. His fingers clawed uselessly at the air, crumpling nothing. His face turned stubbornly toward where Xu Lin had retreated, the corners of his eyes damp.

His dry lips parted, “…Don’t go.”

The doctor turned Ji Jinxuan’s head back and slowly inserted the needle into the back of his neck, injecting the medication.

After the injection, the doctor held his breath, watching Ji Jinxuan’s reaction intently.

Ji Jinxuan’s complexion remained poor, his brow furrowed in pain, cold sweat soaking his clothes. But thankfully, he did not have the severe reaction from last time. His vital signs were stable.

He was slowly absorbing the foreign substance entering his gland. It could heal him, but the process was agonizing. It was a contradictory experience. Like drinking sweet tea laced with shards of glass. On one hand, he was happy to taste the sweetness he craved. On the other, the glass was shredding his insides.

Ji Jinxuan could not bear to spit it out. For the faint sweetness of that tea, he was willing to swallow the glass along with it.

“Is that enough?” Xu Lin asked.

“Yes, that should do it,” the doctor said, nodding repeatedly. “Thank you so much for your help.”

[His gland is damaged. Now he can only accept your pheromones.]

Xu Lin remembered what Zhuang Xun had told him. He hesitated for a moment and asked the doctor, “Is that true?”

“What?”

Xu Lin said, “The only pheromones he can accept now are mine?”

The doctor nodded.

“But our compatibility is so low.”

“It has nothing to do with compatibility,” the doctor explained. “Mr. Ji injected many unknown substances into his gland. The drug stimulation caused irreversible damage. Now, on a subconscious level, his body only recognizes you.”

Xu Lin clenched his fist, his nails digging into his palm. When he loosened his grip, crescent-shaped marks were left in his skin.

“Can you cure him?” Xu Lin asked.

“Well…” The doctor glanced at Ji Jinxuan in the bed, hesitating. “I’m not sure. But with your pheromones, his heat cycles can be stabilized.”

“Is that enough? If not, you can take more.” Xu Lin touched the back of his neck, where the raised gland was hot to the touch.

The doctor was moved, thinking Xu Lin cared deeply for Ji Jinxuan, willing to go this far. Afraid he might endanger himself, the doctor quickly tried to dissuade him. “That won’t do. Taking too much at once could affect your health, including your gland—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Xu Lin interrupted calmly. “I don’t care about this thing.”

The doctor was taken aback. “What?”

What kind of Omega didn’t care about their gland?

Xu Lin said, “I’m only coming here once. You’d better get enough while you can.”

“After I leave today, I won’t come back to Danshi, and I won’t see him again.” He stared at Ji Jinxuan, his expression cold. “From now on, whether he lives or dies is none of my concern. Please don’t bother me again. It’s annoying.”

The doctor was speechless.

That was the only reason Xu Lin had come. He was willing to exchange his pheromones for a peaceful life free from Ji Jinxuan’s interference. He had done all he could. As for the future—Ji Jinxuan’s future had nothing to do with him.

Danshi had advanced medical care, and the Ji family had connections. Surely they would find a way.

Ji family estate.

Zhuang Xun pushed open the door. Click. The light spilled in, the cold white illumination flooding the room.

Pu Sha, following behind him, squinted. As his eyes adjusted and his vision cleared, the first thing he saw was the large bed in the center of the room.

Machines beeped softly around the bed, their tubes connecting to the person lying there.

Zhuang Xun had not been lying. Ji Hongyun was nothing but skin and bones. His eyes were closed, his wrist exposed outside the blanket, thin and delicate, covered in purple needle marks. Veins lay beneath paper-thin skin that looked like it could tear in the wind.

The lifeless shell on the bed seemed so fragile, as if it could stop breathing at any moment.

The Ji Hongyun in Pu Sha’s memories had been arrogant and untamed, with a tall, sturdy frame. His eyes had always held a proud, disdainful look, as if nothing in the world could catch his attention.

That man was now kept alive by machines.

How could Ji Hongyun have ended up like this?

Pu Sha’s feet were glued to the floor. He could not move an inch.

Zhuang Xun watched him in silence.

Pu Sha’s hands clenched and unclenched. Finally, he peeled his feet from the floor and slowly, painfully, made his way to the bedside. He looked once and could not bear to look again.

His heart raced, like a beast with sharp claws and fangs was clawing at his chest.

“How could he…” Pu Sha could not believe it. “How could he end up like this?”

“He thought you were dead,” Zhuang Xun said. “So he didn’t want to go on living.”

“How could that be?” Pu Sha murmured. “How could he do that for me? He wanted me dead. He was the one who wanted me dead.”

“I think there must be some misunderstanding,” Zhuang Xun sighed. “Unfortunately, only he knows the truth.”

Zhuang Xun said, “The doctor said he might never wake up.”

“Talk to him. Maybe…” He paused, then said, “Maybe it’ll help.”

He left the room, leaving Pu Sha and Ji Hongyun alone.

Pu Sha stood for a moment, then sat on the edge of the bed, staring at Ji Hongyun.

“A-Shan. I’ve decided. Once I’ve tied up loose ends, we’ll go somewhere no one knows us. Change our names. Just the two of us, living happily together.”

“We’ll get married, have a small wedding. Okay?”

Back then, Pu Sha was just an ordinary person in Danshi, an orphan with no parents. Meeting Ji Hongyun had been an accident. Falling in love with him had been an accident, too.

They were not well-matched. Pu Sha had not agreed at first and had tried to break things off several times. But Ji Hongyun had clung to him, refusing to let go.

So Pu Sha had decided to take a gamble. To bet on Ji Hongyun’s sincerity.

When Ji Hongyun talked about running away, Pu Sha had truly believed him and looked forward to the future Ji Hongyun had described—their future.

“Meet me at the beach tomorrow. I’ll come.”

The night before they were to run away, Ji Hongyun had said this to him.

The beach was where they had first met.

Ji Hongyun said he had prepared a boat. Once he arrived, they would leave Dan City together.

On that day, Pu Sha arrived on time. He waited from dawn until dusk.

Four hours passed. Ji Hongyun’s phone was unreachable. Finally, when he heard footsteps approaching from behind in the darkness, he turned and saw Ji Hongyun walking slowly toward him. He beamed and rushed to greet him.

But before he could throw himself into Ji Hongyun’s arms, Ji Hongyun stopped and raised his arm, pointing a gun at him.

Pu Sha had waited four hours by the sea. The wind had long stripped the warmth from his body. Yet at that moment, he felt himself falling into an icy abyss.

He forced a smile. “What’s wrong?”

Was it a joke? It was not funny.

They were alone on the beach.

The howling wind whipped Pu Sha’s clothes and hair. He could barely stand.

Had he misunderstood? Had Ji Hongyun chosen this place not because it was where they first met, but because it was a dark, hidden spot where he could kill him without being seen and easily dispose of the body in the sea?

Was that it?

Facing Ji Hongyun’s gun, he still asked, “You want to kill me?”

Click. The sound of a round being chambered answered him.

Pu Sha could no longer maintain his smile.

From a distance, he looked at Ji Hongyun, saw his cold eyes. His lips were blue from the cold as he whispered, “Was running away with me… a lie?”

“Was loving me a lie too?”

Ji Hongyun did not answer.

Pu Sha’s eyes turned red. He could not speak. His lips moved silently, “…You lied to me?”

Bang.

The next second, searing pain tore through his chest. It felt like his bones had shattered. He looked down. Through his blurred, tear-filled vision, he saw a red stain spreading across his chest, slowly dyeing his clothes.

He clutched his chest, stumbling backward. The world spun. He could not see Ji Hongyun’s face. He could not see anything. Then his body fell into the sea, and the water swallowed his senses. He lost consciousness.

He thought he was dead.

But he was not. He had floated on the sea, rescued by a fisherman and taken to a hospital. The bullet had narrowly missed his heart. By some miracle, he had survived.

After waking, he did not return to Danshi. He went to District Thirteen.

Ji Hongyun had wanted him dead. So he would be dead. He had been given a second life. With this second life, he chose to live on his own terms.

He changed his name and went to a place where no one knew him, living a quiet, ordinary life. It was the life he had hoped for, the one he was supposed to share with Ji Hongyun.

But things had not worked out. That person was not by his side. He had not wanted to be.

Pu Sha had always been alone.

“I hated you. At that time, all my nightmares were filled with you. You were so terrifying. Even hearing your name felt like dying all over again. I woke up crying, and fell back asleep crying. I never understood why you lied to me like that. What threat was my life to you, that you would humiliate me this way? Did you think your past with me was shameful?”

Pu Sha murmured, looking down at Ji Hongyun’s face.

“You were my first love, and this is how you repaid me.”

His fingers touched the back of Ji Hongyun’s neck, brushing against the hard tubes connected to his damaged gland. “Why did you do this?”

“Weren’t you eager for me to die? I died, just as you wanted. Shouldn’t you have been happy? How could you try to kill yourself because of me? You’re not that kind of person. I don’t want to take that blame.

“I have a school now. I’m a teacher there. I have a group of lovely students. They’re all good, good children.” Pu Sha said, “Do you know, the one I love most among them was tortured by your brother, covered in wounds.”

“The Ji family—how are you all like this?”

Pu Sha reached out and gently brushed his thumb across Ji Hongyun’s cheek.

“This is our last goodbye. After this, we’ll never see each other again. So many years have passed. I died once, and you’ve suffered all these years. Let it go.”

Pu Sha said, “Let it all go.”

“I don’t hate you anymore. I don’t love you anymore.”

“Now, we’re just strangers. I have a new life. You should start a new one too.”

He blinked, trying to clear the heat rising in his eyes.

“Ji Hongyun,” he said hoarsely, “get better.”

A drop of liquid fell on Ji Hongyun’s cheek and slid to his ear.

Pu Sha opened the door and said to Zhuang Xun, who was waiting outside, “Let’s go.”

“Not staying longer?”

Pu Sha shook his head. “What’s the point of saying more? He can’t hear me. We have no connection anymore. There’s no reason to stay.”

Zhuang Xun took a deep breath and said nothing.

They returned to the hospital.

Xu Lin was sitting on the corridor bench, his face pale. Pu Sha hurried over, concerned. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

He shook his head. “No.”

A small adhesive bandage was on the back of his neck.

Zhuang Xun went straight into the ward. The doctor was putting the newly extracted pheromones into a cooler. “With this amount, we can prepare enough medication to treat Mr. Ji.”

Hearing that, Zhuang Xun felt relieved.

Xu Lin, having recovered from his dizziness, walked into the ward. He said to Zhuang Xun, “Mr. Zhuang, can you fulfill your promise now?”

Zhuang Xun nodded. “Don’t worry. You’ll get what you want.”

“I also want one more promise from you.”

“Name it.”

Xu Lin said, “I want you to guarantee that from tomorrow onward, Ji Jinxuan will never find me. That I will never be brought back to help him in any capacity. That I will never see him again.”

Xu Lin had provided enough pheromones. With those, surely they could cure Ji Jinxuan. The mixing of Alpha and Omega pheromones was a law of nature, an instinct etched into their genes. Compatibility always sat at the peak of the pyramid, unshakeable. Ji Jinxuan’s condition might be temporary. With time and treatment, there would surely be a cure.

Zhuang Xun agreed without hesitation. “Alright.”

As Xu Lin was leaving, Ji Jinxuan on the bed seemed to sense something and slowly opened his eyes.

He looked toward Xu Lin, catching a blurry glimpse of his back.

“Xu Lin…”

Xu Lin paused.

“Don’t go,” came the hoarse plea from behind. “…Please.”

It was Ji Jinxuan’s voice, but not words he would ever say.

Xu Lin did not look back. He walked away.

Ji Jinxuan closed his eyes.

His eye rims were flushed, his lashes damp. A faint gleam of moisture flickered and disappeared, gone as quickly as it had come.