Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Bai Qi offered no reply to Qi Heyan’s question, his silence a tacit admission. The omega slumped against the sofa, no longer caring for his neural interface.

His anger was palpable. Even Qi Heyan, who rarely paid him much mind, sensed the shift in his mood. Qi Heyan reined in his own emotions. “You don’t recognize a single word?”

“I know some.” Bai Qi closed his eyes, a clear aversion to Qi Heyan’s proximity. The alpha had once promised to teach him, but now he’d forgotten—just as Qi Heyan had said, none of it counted anymore.

What a liar.

Qi Heyan glanced at Bai Qi, then looked away. “I’ll arrange for someone to teach you later.”

“Qi Heyan.”

The omega called out, but the alpha ignored him. Bai Qi tilted his head, studying Qi Heyan’s profile. The same face, yet it felt like two different people. How strange.

His body still felt weak; even after sleep, exhaustion clung to him. Bai Qi took a few shaky breaths, then suddenly remembered what he was supposed to do. Softly, he called, “Your Highness.”

“What is it?”

Qi Heyan finally deigned to cast a glance his way, turning to face the omega directly. “Speak plainly.”

“Why did you lose your memories?” Sorrow flickered in Bai Qi’s eyes, as if he were asking himself as much as Qi Heyan. “How could you forget me?”

Qi Heyan’s breathing remained steady, yet he couldn’t deny the slight tremor in his chest at the question. After a moment’s thought, he fabricated a lie: “I forgot because I chose to. Unimportant things aren’t worth remembering.”

“Unimportant?” Bai Qi’s face was devoid of humor. “So that’s what it was.”

“Your Highness, is profit truly all that matters to you?” Bai Qi stared straight ahead, the cavernous emptiness of the house amplifying his loneliness. He still preferred his own small home.

Qi Heyan checked the time—it was almost dinner. He had no intention of taking Bai Qi out, opting instead to have two meals delivered. Given the omega’s current state, he doubted Bai Qi could handle his relatives.

The question Bai Qi posed was too naive for Qi Heyan’s liking. The alpha chose not to answer, stating instead, “Dinner will be delivered soon. I’ll be working upstairs. Eat when it arrives—no need to wait for me.”

With that, Qi Heyan departed. Bai Qi’s gaze followed him until he disappeared. Suddenly, he found the whole situation absurd. What answer had he been hoping for?

Once, Qi Heyan had offered his heart completely. But now, love was likely the most useless thing to the alpha.

And Bai Qi, of all people, yearned for love the most.

The omega sat on the sofa and picked up the neural interface again. If it was given to him, it was his. Though he barely recognized the words, he called the robot over. The AI had no soul and wouldn’t say things Bai Qi disliked. It answered every question he asked, and within moments, he’d deciphered most of the icons.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The robot retreated as someone delivered dinner, completely ignoring Bai Qi. To them, the omega was practically invisible—but that spared him the trouble of interacting with them.

He didn’t understand royal etiquette, nor did he wish to learn. All those convoluted rules just made his head ache.

Bai Qi sat at the long, wide dining table. The portions weren’t small, but they still looked meager on the expansive surface.

Clutching his chopsticks, he surveyed the dishes—meat and vegetables, beautifully arranged, many of which he couldn’t name. He nibbled at his chopsticks, hesitated, then finally picked up a piece of meat. It tasted good. He liked it.

Good food lifted his spirits. Though he didn’t eat much, it brought him considerable comfort. Leaning back in his chair, Bai Qi let his mind drift. Too much had happened today—he was utterly exhausted.

Dressed in inexpensive clothes, his posture, though relaxed, still held a subtle, unconscious guardedness. His hair was slightly long, just enough to cover the nape of his neck. Head bowed, fingers laced together, he appeared lost in thought.

At least, Qi Heyan didn’t know what he was thinking. He came downstairs after a shower and found Bai Qi staring blankly. Frowning slightly, he walked over and rapped his knuckles against the table. “Go take a bath.”

Bai Qi flinched, hunching his shoulders and looking at Qi Heyan with displeasure. He said, “I don’t really feel like bathing right now.”

“Then what do you feel like doing?”

Qi Heyan glanced at the mess on the table, took a deep breath, and said with forced patience, “Don’t eat like this in the future. It’s very impolite.”

Bai Qi didn’t understand. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then spoke up, “Is there something wrong with eating normally?”

“If you’re going to live here, you’ll have to learn royal etiquette. It seems I’ll have to find you an etiquette tutor—”

“Get lost!”

Bai Qi flung the bowl in front of him toward Qi Heyan. He stood up, the anger he had been suppressing finally erupting. “You’re the one who wanted me to stay here! You criticize everything I do—so why even keep me by your side?”

“Say something, damn it!”

The bowl Bai Qi threw hit Qi Heyan directly, leaving greasy stains on the alpha’s clothes. The shattered porcelain made a loud noise as it hit the floor. The omega glared at Qi Heyan, his voice low. “You hold all the power… If Your Highness finds me so beneath him, then let’s not torture each other anymore.”

“Bai Qi.”

Qi Heyan finally responded. He strode forward, gripping the omega’s wrist before forcefully pushing him down onto the couch. His movements were sharper than when he had lost his memory. Bai Qi, held by the back of his neck, was completely immobilized.

“I don’t care how we interacted before. From now on, you’ll follow the rules.” Qi Heyan gripped Bai Qi’s face with one hand, trying to force the omega to look at him. But the moment his fingers touched Bai Qi’s cheeks, he felt dampness in his palm. The alpha’s eyes flickered, and the words he had intended to say died in his throat.

It stung.

Qi Heyan released him, taking two steps back before speaking in a low voice, “Go take a shower.”

Bai Qi collapsed to the floor from the force of Qi Heyan’s push. Tear tracks lined his face, but his eyes held no sadness—only resentment. The omega turned his gaze to meet the alpha’s, hissing through clenched teeth, “Your Highness.”

Qi Heyan was the first to look away, as if unwilling to face him.

The omega fell silent too. He stood up, brushing himself off before turning to walk upstairs. As he passed Qi Heyan, he muttered under his breath, “You might as well kill me.”

Bai Qi had never been the type to endure things passively, which was why he had suffered so much. Over time, he had been worn down—but Qi Heyan was someone he loved, so he had become reckless again.

He didn’t like this version of Qi Heyan at all.

With each step upward, the sadness in his heart welled up like a spring, bubbling and spreading. The tears earlier hadn’t been intentional, but now he couldn’t hold them back. His bottom lip quivered, he found the master bedroom and pushed the door open.

When would Qi Heyan remember him? Bai Qi missed him.

How could the omega not miss Qi Heyan? His heart wasn’t made of iron—he could feel pain, too.

The one who had brought him the most happiness was Qi Heyan, yet now, the one hurting him was also Qi Heyan.

They had only met again for a day, and Bai Qi was already heartbroken.

The omega didn’t even want to look around Qi Heyan’s bedroom. He didn’t know what to wear—whatever he chose would be criticized anyway. The alpha didn’t even like the clothes he picked for himself, so why would he approve of Bai Qi’s choices?

Bai Qi cried silently, wiping his tears with the back of his hand before rummaging through Qi Heyan’s closet for a set of clothes. They’d definitely be too big, but he didn’t care.

The omega pushed open the bathroom door. Inside, there was only a single button and a showerhead. Bai Qi stared at the button, unsure what to do. He bit his lip, wanting to ask for help but feeling too humiliated. He didn’t want to see Qi Heyan again.

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes red, before tapping his wrist-com to search how to use the shower. After fumbling for several minutes, he finally managed to get the water running. He took off his clothes, setting them aside, and methodically scrubbed himself clean.

No more crying. His eyes burned from it.

Bai Qi cut his shower short. His stomach felt uncomfortable, and it was only then that he remembered—he was carrying a child.

The child he shared with the alpha, a tiny life was growing inside him, but Bai Qi was too young. From the initial bewilderment to now being “ordered” to give birth to a child, no one had comforted the omega.

Bai Qi put on Qi Heyan’s clothes—they were oversized, hanging loosely on his frame, the hem even covering his thighs. The pants were impossible to wear, so he simply took them off and threw them on the floor, even giving them a deliberate stomp.

After doing all this, he wasn’t in a hurry to leave. Instead, he lifted the hem of the shirt and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. His belly barely showed any curve, and no matter how much he stared, he could only detect the faintest change. His clear eyes locked onto his reflection, as if holding a conversation. He said, “I’m going to have a baby.”

“Will I die?” The omega clenched the fabric of the shirt in his hands, his eyes filled with confusion. “I’m too thin, but I don’t want to stay here either.”

No one answered Bai Qi, though he had spoken to himself like this many times before. Many nights in the slums had passed this way.

He let the hem drop. He didn’t need an answer—he was the answer himself.

The omega pushed the door open and stepped out, barefoot, stopping at the top of the stairs. He looked down at Qi Heyan from above, his tone calm, almost detached. “Your Highness.”

“Please send me a set of clothes. Yours are too big—they don’t fit me—”