Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The gland surgery concluded swiftly.

Still under the lingering effects of anesthesia, Ji Qingyu, his neck swathed in gauze, sat up from the hospital bed.

The exorbitant bill was charged to Fu Han’s account. He glanced at the cost—200,000 yuan vanished in just half an hour—and felt the long, deep scar now etched into the back of his neck.

He rose and slowly made his way out of the hospital.

The doctor assured him that recovery wouldn't be complicated: avoid getting the area wet while bathing and stick to the usual dietary restrictions. However, given his gland's chronic swelling and unhealthy state, the healing process would be particularly slow.

"Mr. Ji, I’ve never encountered anyone who abused their gland to this extent. It was filled with pus—this could have been fatal," the doctor gently chided. "Since you’ve been permanently marked, why didn’t you seek out the person who marked you? Even if it was just to ask for some pheromones?"

Ji Qingyu lowered his head. "He wouldn’t help me."

"If your relationship is so strained, why allow a permanent mark?"

Ji Qingyu fell silent. The doctor sighed, a hint of exasperated disappointment in his tone, then offered comfort: "It’s alright. With the gland surgery behind you, it’ll all be in the past. You’re about to get married, Mr. Ji. Focus on nurturing your relationship with your husband after marriage. Everything will improve."

Ji Qingyu offered no reply.

Under the swaying shadows of the hospital trees, Ji Qingyu lowered his gaze and gently scuffed a small stone with his foot, attempting to banish all complex thoughts from his mind.

He reached up and touched the gauze on the back of his neck, still not quite comprehending that the mark, a constant companion for six years, was simply… gone. Almost instinctively, he felt a hollow emptiness inside. Even though this mark had often tormented him, he should have felt no lingering attachment.

Yet, mostly, he felt relief.

The period leading up to the wedding remained largely unchanged. Ji Qingyu continued tutoring, enjoyed the osmanthus cake from Nannan, and visited Lin Ying at the hospital in his free time.

The patient in the ward seemed destined never to awaken. Initially, the nurses paid him no mind, but after his frequent visits, they politely reminded him to maintain a distance and avoid bringing germs into the sterile unit.

He would retreat a few steps, standing awkwardly to the side like an unnecessary presence, watching as the nurses completed sterile procedures before entering to turn Lin Ying.

Lin Ying required turning three times a day. She had grown significantly thinner; he could see the bones protruding from her wrists. He could barely recall her former appearance.

"When you wake up, I’ll take you to meet my students. They’re all doing very well…" Ji Qingyu paused. "I’m doing well, too."

Through the thick glass wall, he spoke slowly, "I’m getting married. You won’t be able to attend the wedding, but I’ll come see you right after. I’ll show you how I look in my wedding attire. Ms. Lin Ying, please wake up soon, okay?"

The chairs outside the ward grew uncomfortably hard after prolonged sitting. In his spare moments, he would check his phone. The chat between him and Fu Han remained blank.

Fu Han’s profile was empty—his avatar a solid black square.

It seemed Fu Han had no intention of engaging with him. Ji Qingyu sent a "Hello," but received no reply. The empty chat box hardly suggested a connection between two people about to marry.

Instead, it was Ji Ran who frequently sought him out during this time, taking him to choose venues, try on clothes, and attend etiquette classes.

The elaborate omega formalwear made it difficult to breathe. Ji Ran instructed his personal makeup artist to apply makeup to Ji Qingyu’s face. The artist, brush in hand, cupped Ji Qingyu’s face and praised, "Ranran, your brother’s skin may be terribly rough, but his features are truly excellent."

Ji Ran raised an eyebrow, glancing at the sheet music in his hand, and said, "Give him a thorough skincare routine. I don’t want him looking too unpresentable and embarrassing both of us when the time comes."

"Oh, and," Ji Ran looked up and tossed over a neatly ironed dress suit. Ji Qingyu caught it with both hands, the smooth satin flowing like water through his fingers. "Wear this to meet Fu Han and get your wedding photos taken."

Ji Qingyu began to stammer, "W-we have to take wedding photos too?"

"Obviously." Having said that, Ji Ran ignored him and returned to studying his score.

"Has the wedding date been set already?" Ji Qingyu asked again.

Ji Ran frowned at the question. "You’re the one getting married, and you’re asking me for the date?"

Ji Qingyu fell silent. Ji Ran continued reading his score, but after a while, he tossed it onto the table. "This piece is no good."

"Is this the best they can come up with for the concert’s new song? What about the others?" Ji Ran’s voice turned cold.

An assistant whispered nearby, "Brother Ji, this is already the thirteenth version."

Ji Ran’s expression darkened, looking on the verge of losing his temper. The assistant hunched his shoulders, not daring to move or dodge.

Amidst the chaos in the makeup room, Ji Qingyu stood up, quietly holding the beautiful satin suit, and walked out the door.

The weather was gloomy, with rain falling outside. He took out his phone and looked at Fu Han’s chat interface, unsure how to initiate a conversation.

In the end, he lost his nerve and contacted the assistant who had been handling the wedding arrangements.

"Hello," Ji Qingyu said, his voice tense. He hated how overly sensitive he became whenever it involved Fu Han. He cleared his throat silently, trying to make his voice sound as pleasant as possible.

"Hello, who may I ask is calling?" A clear, efficient woman’s voice came from the other end.

"I’m… Fu Han’s fiancé. Perhaps you’ve heard him mention me. I wanted to ask when he might have time. We probably need to take wedding photos." Ji Qingyu felt uneasy, clutching his phone tightly and pursing his lips.

When it truly came time to meet Fu Han, his heart felt suspended in mid-air. He waited for the reply, his heart beating rapidly.

After more than twenty seconds, the woman’s voice responded, "Alright, Mr. Ji. I’ve just confirmed with President Fu. Please come to the group’s building tomorrow at 5 PM. We’ll take you inside."

"Okay, thank you. Sorry for the trouble." Ji Qingyu hung up and touched his forehead—it was already covered in cold sweat.

He thought all these years had made him thick-skinned enough, but it turned out he had overestimated himself. It seemed that in his relationship with Fu Han, the other was always more at ease.

All he could do was wait with nervous anticipation and unease for the summons from the other side.

That night, he had trouble sleeping, a rare occurrence.

Perhaps it was due to hormonal fluctuations after the surgery. He woke up several times during the night and had several nightmares. In the dreams, Fu Han gripped Ji Qingyu’s neck, his eyes cold, looking at Ji Qingyu as if he were a tiny ant on the ground.

His words were just as chilling: "You dare do something like this and still expect me to forgive you?"

Surrounded by a group of people, with a beautiful omega by his side, he walked further and further away from Ji Qingyu. Ji Qingyu wanted to explain, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t catch up.

The dream felt too real. After waking up, he couldn’t fall back asleep.

He decided to look through old photos. The high school album didn’t contain many pictures—half were of him and Ji Ran, the other half were casual life shots: campus cats, random photos with classmates. There was only one photo of Fu Han.

In the photo, he and Fu Han stood together, neither making any particular gesture. He was shorter than Fu Han, his shoulders not as broad. Fu Han took up two-thirds of the picture.

He was smiling; Fu Han was expressionless, holding a sparkler with a few streamers caught in his hair. When the champagne popped, the white foam and the bright lights of the song hall were frozen together in that photo.

Ji Qingyu looked at it a couple of times. His stomach growled—he was hungry. He’d forgotten to eat. His body was quite resilient; it only started complaining now, late at night. It wasn’t too hard done by, following an owner like him.

He got up and hastily cooked a plain bowl of noodles, eating it with some pickles.

In the deep of night, the online world was still lively. With nothing else to do, he browsed through posts. Many bloggers were reposting the tangled love-hate stories of Ji Ran and Fu Han, along with highly liked candid shots.

Someone had filmed Fu Han attending one of Ji Ran’s concerts. The video was pixelated and blurry.

Ji Qingyu watched that video too. In the darkness, Ji Qingyu zoomed in on Fu Han’s face and watched it over and over.

Ji Qingyu's mood was somewhat complex; back in high school, Fu Han had never shown such an expression when listening to him sing.

His phone died on its own.

At five o'clock the next afternoon, he left the house in neatly ironed clothes.

The entrance of the Fu Corporation headquarters was grand—the building stood at over thirty stories tall. He smoothed out the most expensive outfit he had bought at the mall and hitched up the large paper bag slung over his shoulder.

Head lowered, he walked stiffly to the front desk and said softly, "Hello, I'm here to see Fu Han."

"Mr. Ji, I assume?" The secretary pressed the call button and pointed the way for Ji Qingyu.

"Take the visitor pass and ride the elevator at the very end to the top floor. The CEO's office is right there when you step out." The secretary stood up and gestured toward the innermost elevator.

"Okay." Ji Qingyu forced a stiff smile. At that moment, he wished Fu Han was busy and not there, so he could be told the photoshoot was canceled and he could just leave.

The elevator rose and soon reached the top floor. The doors opened in front of him. The entire floor was quiet. He took a few steps forward and pushed open the half-open door.

Fu Han stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, his upper body bare, about to put on the wedding attire. His lips were slightly pursed, and his right arm bore a strikingly fierce and intricate tattoo. Despite the festive red color of the garment, it only made him appear colder and more intimidating.

He fastened the buttons of the wedding attire one by one, his face devoid of any smile. Noticing someone had entered, he glanced back. His gaze was cold and calm. The room was unlit, with half the light from the window falling on his face and the other half shrouded in shadow.

Ji Qingyu didn’t know what expression to wear.

Fu Han’s tightly furrowed brows stiffened for a moment upon seeing Ji Qingyu, then gradually relaxed, as if he had just recognized who it was. He smiled indifferently and walked toward Ji Qingyu.

A broad hand wrapped around Ji Qingyu’s back as the other man closed the door. Only then did Ji Qingyu become aware of the hand touching his neck.

The bandage on his neck hadn’t been removed yet—it had been an hour since it was last changed. Perhaps some blood had seeped through. Ji Qingyu tried desperately to read something from Fu Han’s expression but ultimately found nothing.

After what felt like an eternity, the hand withdrew. Ji Qingyu gasped for air, having nearly suffocated.

"Since you’re here, go change." Fu Han’s tone was icy as he turned and walked to the lounge, leaving the changing area free.

"Okay." Ji Qingyu edged his way in slowly. Fu Han lay on the bed without closing the partition door. If Ji Qingyu changed here, Fu Han would see him the moment he opened his eyes.

Ji Qingyu hesitated between walking over to close the door or simply changing clothes. Just then, Fu Han suddenly turned over, his back facing Ji Qingyu.

His dark figure melted into the shadows.

Only then did Ji Qingyu reach for the wedding attire in the paper bag.

The red garment was exquisitely crafted, with embroidery so lifelike it seemed a phoenix was about to take flight, traced in golden thread.

He took off his clothes and put on the red wedding attire. The outfit made his face appear even paler, softening the long-accumulated thinness and melancholy, lending him a gentle and graceful aura.

His somewhat malnourished brown hair was tied into a small bun at the back, resting quietly on his shoulder.

At some point, Fu Han had gotten up. He leaned against the doorway of the lounge, and when Ji Qingyu turned around, he found Fu Han watching him.

Perhaps finding it uncomfortable to sleep, Fu Han had unbuttoned a few buttons, revealing well-defined muscles that made the otherwise well-fitted clothes seem tight.

Fu Han’s face was hidden in the shadows, his body relaxed against the doorframe. His hair was swept back, with only a few strands falling over his forehead.

His features were sharp and strikingly handsome. Just standing there, he made it impossible for Ji Qingyu to look away.

Ji Qingyu’s neck began to ache again. He wasn’t one to forget lessons easily, so he immediately averted his gaze.

But at that moment, Fu Han walked over and stopped in front of Ji Qingyu.

Author's Note: