Chapter 6

Chapter 6

After the banquet, the guests had all departed.

The night was heavy. Fu Han leaned against the massive marble pillar in the banquet hall, arms crossed and legs bent. A faint breeze drifted in, carrying a stifling heat.

The wind ruffled his hair. He stood like a night-blooming cereus in the darkness, a few stray strands falling across his forehead. His eyes were slightly reddened from alcohol.

As if sensing a presence, his gaze shifted to Ji Qingyu. After lingering for a few seconds, he abruptly pulled Ji Qingyu towards him without warning.

Downstairs, the renowned performer sang a soulful, romantic tune. Fireworks exploded in the night sky, mingling with the neon lights, a truly beautiful spectacle.

Ji Qingyu thought that if two people truly in love were to marry here, their hearts would surely be filled with happiness. But alas, between him and Fu Han, there was only estrangement and pretense.

What a waste of such meticulous planning.

Fu Han lowered his head to look at him. His fingertips, cool to the touch, traced Ji Qingyu’s forehead, eyelids, then lips, finally resting on the back of his neck.

Ji Qingyu grew restless under his touch. His cheongsam was thin, and even through the fabric, he could feel the heat from Fu Han’s fingers. He leaned back, trying to escape, but Fu Han’s hand was blocking his retreat, leaving him no way out.

He was too close. Ji Qingyu’s mind reeled.

This man knew exactly how to provoke him. He always seemed so composed and effortless, while Ji Qingyu was left anxious, flustered, and unsettled, constantly toyed with and kept on edge.

Most of the guests had left, but a few still lingered at the entrance, exchanging pleasantries. Fortunately, their spot was secluded, and no one noticed them.

“Did the surgery go well?” Fu Han’s voice was hoarse as he abruptly asked this question.

“Yes,” Ji Qingyu replied, taken aback. He hadn’t expected Fu Han to bring it up. He wasn't in much pain anymore, and he could even sense the pheromones of other alphas now.

There seemed to be an indescribable hint of regret in Fu Han’s eyes. He leaned in closer, folding back the collar of the cheongsam to reveal Ji Qingyu’s slender neck and the white gauze covering his gland. There was no bloodstain. Fu Han lifted a corner to take a look.

“You’re really quite lucky,” Fu Han said ambiguously. His fingers gently traced the red edges around the wound. The not-fully-healed gland was exceptionally sensitive.

Ji Qingyu felt the back of his neck burning, a flush of heat spreading through his body. Fu Han’s grip around his waist tightened further. Ji Qingyu struggled, pushing against him. “...You could find someone else to tide you over for now.”

The hand stiffened. Then, a mocking laugh sounded above Ji Qingyu’s head. The next second, he was pulled flush against Fu Han, his upper body pressed tightly against him with a force that nearly stole his breath.

If not for the remaining people in the banquet hall, he might have thought Fu Han intended to strangle him—to avoid having to keep such an unworthy omega by his side.

“Why should I mark someone else?” Fu Han’s words suddenly turned sharp, even angry. “I’m not like you.”

“Removing a mark isn’t difficult, but the gland is fragile; after one removal, it’s hard to undergo a second removal.” Fu Han’s hand clenched tightly around Ji Qingyu’s waist as he whispered coldly, a near-threat, “Unless you want to die.”

Ji Qingyu hissed in pain, not understanding Fu Han’s words. He wouldn’t even have a second mark, so where would a second removal come from?

He resisted Fu Han, pushing against him with both hands, but even with all his strength, he couldn’t budge him. Instead, he could only tap Fu Han’s chest weakly, reminding him to wear his bite guard properly. Fu Han’s green plum scent had grown so intense it made Ji Qingyu’s legs go weak.

Fu Han maintained this posture for a long moment before letting out a cold laugh. His gaze was so stern and icy that Ji Qingyu couldn’t help but feel a chill. Fu Han bit his ear, feigning intimacy as he said, “Don’t worry. Keep your petty schemes to yourself. I won’t let you succeed with such despicable tricks a second time.”

Ji Qingyu stiffened. He remained silent, his gaze fixed on the banquet hall entrance. Ji Ran had been standing politely and quietly beside Ji Deyong, offering Ji Qingyu an ambiguous smile. The last of the guests had finally left.

The fireworks burned out, the singing stopped, and the tranquility and loneliness of the late night enveloped the villa halfway up the mountain.

Fu Han pushed him away and disappeared somewhere, leaving Ji Qingyu alone to return to the bedroom.

As if anyone would want to go through something like that with him again.

Ji Qingyu felt like laughing. A tumult of emotions warred within him. After wearing the cheongsam all day, he could finally take it off. Fu Han had a massive dressing room, larger than Ji Qingyu’s cramped rental apartment combined.

After undressing, he dragged his heavy body to the bathroom and hastily washed his face with cleanser. Worried he hadn’t removed all his makeup, he washed it again. Then, covering the back of his neck, he took a shower. Returning to the bedroom, he found Fu Han already lying down, having come in at some point, with the bite guard on his mouth.

Ji Qingyu stared at the back of his head for a long while. Moonlight cast shards of silver light across the room. His hair was half-damp, and he wore only a thin shirt. Moving quietly, like a small animal, he climbed onto the bed and curled up beside Fu Han, finding a spot as far away as possible before closing his eyes.

In his dream, he vaguely sensed a wall behind him. He was embraced by something warm, his back and abdomen burning with heat.

He murmured, “Thirsty…”

The warmth vanished. Then something touched his forehead. Soon after, he was given water, soothing his long-dry throat.

The wall muttered something in a low voice, the sound muffled as if through a layer of paper. He couldn’t make out the words. It sounded like rain was falling outside.

Instinctively, he sought a warmer source of heat, clinging to something like an animal, curling into a ball. He dreamed a long dream—of the Siberian tundra, the distant North Star, and a morning star trailing a luminous path across the sky.

When he woke, a glass of water sat on the bedside table. Fu Han was already gone. Ji Qingyu sat up, gathering his thoughts, and drowsily rose from the bed. The house felt empty. He wandered around and discovered that Fu Han had a large room filled with a piano, guitar, bass, and a full set of audio equipment and professional gear.

The room was well-lit. Ji Qingyu had often wished for a space like this—a place to lie down for a while or spend an afternoon immersed in songwriting.

The equipment looked brand new. Ji Qingyu’s fingers itched with desire. He couldn’t resist asking Aunt Wang what Fu Han used the equipment for and whether he could use it.

Aunt Wang, who had taken care of Fu Han for many years, managed everything in the villa. She was practically his nanny.

“Mr. Fu said you can do whatever you like when he’s not here,” Aunt Wang said politely. “Would you like some dessert, Madam?”

“No, thank you, Aunt Wang.” Just as Ji Qingyu was about to try the equipment, a knock came at the door.

“Strange… Mr. Fu said he was going to the company and would be busy until late. Did he forget something?” Aunt Wang went to open the door, but the person outside wasn’t Fu Han.

It was a strikingly handsome middle-aged man with sharp eyes and an aloof, noble demeanor. Aunt Wang addressed him as “Master,” and Ji Qingyu realized this was Fu Han’s father, who had been absent throughout the wedding.

Ji Qingyu had heard of Fu Yunbai. He was a career-driven alpha, ambitious and energetic. The alphas in the Fu family never seemed to treat each other as blood-related family members—malicious struggles and power grabs were common. As the former family head who had emerged victorious in the previous power struggle, Fu Yunbai carried an air of authority even heavier than Fu Han’s.

A few years ago, the Fu family had undergone a shift in power. On the night the old family head passed away, something had happened—Fu Han hadn’t been able to attend, allowing his uncle to seize the advantage. That night had been devastating for Fu Yunbai, and it took him years to reclaim the family business and secure it firmly in his hands.

“Aunt Wang, you may leave. You, come with me.” Fu Yunbai, with a few strands of white at his temples, didn’t even glance at Ji Qingyu as he strode toward the living room.

Ji Qingyu had no choice but to follow. He prepared two cups of tea, placing one in front of Fu Yunbai.

“Hello… Is there something you needed to see me about?”

Fu Yunbai ignored the tea, looking Ji Qingyu up and down with a heavily scrutinizing gaze before concluding, “You’re not bad-looking, but too weak. You look unhealthy.”

Ji Qingyu thought to himself that he wasn’t weak—his physique could hold its own even against betas. He was just still recovering from the surgery and feeling a bit drained.

Fu Yunbai said dismissively, “He never listens to me anyway. It’s good that he has his own ideas now that he’s grown up. But I never thought he’d be so bold as to defy me even in a matter as important as marriage.”

Yes, Ji Qingyu thought. Fu Han would rather ruin his own marriage to get back at him. How determined he must be.

“Do you have any idea how much pressure the Fu family has to withstand to accept someone like you as a daughter-in-law?” Fu Yunbai sniffed the tea, frowned, and poured the tea into a nearby plant. “Being an illegitimate child is one thing, but to have been marked by someone else? How could someone like you even step into the Fu family?”

Fu Yunbai’s tone and demeanor were strikingly similar to Fu Han’s, though he was even more merciless. The resemblance was uncanny. Ji Qingyu clenched his teacup, his fingertips burning.

“If you have any self-awareness, stay quietly at home. Focus on what’s important—hurry up and have a child with Fu Han.” Fu Yunbai finally got to the point. His coldness and arrogance, honed over years, made it clear he held no regard for someone like Ji Qingyu. To him, perhaps the only significant value Ji Qingyu possessed was his ability to bear children.

Having said his piece, Fu Yunbai stood up to leave. Ji Qingyu spoke from behind him, “Uncle.”

“...” Fu Yunbai turned to look at him.

“Fu Han and I will not have children.”

He sat there, his hair loose and flowing softly over his shoulders. His well-proportioned and beautiful figure blocked half of the sunlight by the window. He didn't seem bothered in the slightest by Fu Yunbai’s sarcastic remarks; even his rebuttal was delivered lightly.

Fu Yunbai seemed to be looking at him properly for the first time, this time longer than before. After a while, he muttered, "You're something else."

"Do you think an omega, after being marked, can still control themselves?" Fu Yunbai spoke like someone who knew what he was talking about. The moisture by the window slid down and condensed, making everything feel damp and heavy. "When the time comes, I’m afraid you’ll be begging Fu Han. I wonder if you'll still be so calm then."

He was about to say more when the door opened once again.

The newcomer strode in hurriedly, his chest heaving violently, his eyes fixed fiercely on Fu Yunbai—not like a son looking at his father, but more like staring at a sworn enemy. "You didn’t show up at my wedding, but you found time the next day to come here and give me hell?"

"Who told you to come back today, of all days, when such an important meeting is happening?" Fu Yunbai’s face turned completely cold. The two alphas faced off, almost as if ready to tear into each other.

"My matters with him are none of your concern. You have no right to interfere," Fu Han’s tone was icy, like a knife slicing through the air between them.

Fu Yunbai looked at the two of them, his expression shifting unpredictably. "Fine. You’ve really grown up now, to the point where you won’t even listen to me."

"Listen to you? Listen to what? How happy is your own family? What right do you have to meddle in my affairs?"

Fu Yunbai froze, wanting to say something but at a loss for words. The door was slammed shut heavily by Fu Han, with a thunderous clang.

Fu Han let out a breath, his eyes fierce, his intensely aggressive pheromones overwhelming the space like the smell of gunpowder after a blast. He strode into the study and said to Ji Qingyu, who had been quietly keeping to the side, "You too. Can’t you even manage to stay out of trouble? Can you cause me any less trouble?"