Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Ji Qingyu met Ji Ran during the summer break.

It was the summer between his junior and senior year of high school. The bank card hadn't been given, but Fu Han wasn't angry. Still, Ji Qingyu found himself constantly unsettled by him.

Fu Han often showed up at the livehouse with a group of friends to drink.

Whenever Fu Han sat in the audience, chin propped on his hand, staring expressionlessly at him, Ji Qingyu felt a shiver run down his spine. Yet, Fu Han never did anything—he just sat there, listening to the music.

Fu Han was like an uninvited harbinger of trouble. Perhaps he found Ji Qingyu a novelty, or maybe he was simply looking for a convenient place to drink.

One night, the crowd was particularly large, and that was the first time Ji Qingyu saw Ji Ran.

Ji Ran stood out in the crowd, a bite inhibitor collar around his neck—an accessory typically seen in high society. Cloaked in a veneer of politeness and courtesy, he downed an entire glass of dry martini and then a whole row of shots, yet remained stone-cold sober and clear-headed.

Fu Han sat at the center of the group, arrogant and aloof, exuding an air of languid indifference. Leaning back on the sofa, he seemed utterly uninterested.

The metallic badges on his clothes reflected a cold gleam. Hidden in the shadows, his shirt and tie nowhere to be seen, his chest exposed, revealing a muscular abdomen.

It seemed the group had just come from a formal event and were now relaxing with drinks.

As if sensing Ji Qingyu’s gaze, Fu Han turned his head, his eyes locking onto him through the crowd.

Ji Qingyu’s breath hitched.

Fu Han’s gaze was cold and heavy. Ji Qingyu’s heart raced uncontrollably, pounding wildly in his chest. He could only force himself to focus on his guitar, lowering his head slightly as he began playing the first ballad of the set.

"Fu Han," someone called out loudly. "That guy on stage goes to our school."

"He’s on a full scholarship—financially supported. It wouldn't be a big deal to mess around with him," the person continued, with a fawning tone. Ji Qingyu recognized him—Xu Sheng, the son of a leading enterprise in Jing City. "If you like him, I can get him over here for you?"

Xu Sheng was the most ostentatious at school, always surrounded by different omegas.

Actually, Fu Han was no different.

Ji Qingyu thought to himself, they were cut from the same cloth—born with everything, while ordinary people who got involved with them risked facing complete ruin.

Anxious and stiff-fingered, Ji Qingyu considered making a run for it.

Listening to Xu Sheng’s flattery, Fu Han tilted his head and smiled, propping his cheek with his fingers as if hearing a joke. "Like him? Why would I like some Cinderella from the slums?"

"If you really don’t like him, then I’ll go for it?" Xu Sheng first sought the alpha leader's approval. Seeing Fu Han showed no interest, he felt bold enough to act. He stood up, eyeing Ji Qingyu like easy prey, and remarked curiously, "Why is this little thing wearing a scarf in such hot weather? Is he in heat?"

"If he’s not in heat, I don’t mind helping him out."

A wave of laughter erupted around them.

Xu Sheng was smug, confident that this powerless, insignificant plaything was within his grasp.

Ji Qingyu had smiling, crescent-shaped eyes, but his demeanor was cold—distant, aloof, and tinged with melancholy, like the spring rain in March, stirring restless desire in people's hearts.

"Speaking of which, I’ve never tried someone like him before. Someone from the slums—won’t be hard to get rid of, right?" Xu Sheng said with a laugh. "But after getting tired of the ordinary, something plain and simple like him might be just the thing to cleanse the palate."

Halfway through the ballad, Ji Qingyu stopped playing and turned to leave.

Xu Sheng rushed over and grabbed him, holding a beer bottle and trying to force it into Ji Qingyu’s mouth. None of the nearby bartenders dared to step in—none of them could afford to offend these privileged young masters.

Ji Qingyu’s hair was pulled back, the bottle hitting his teeth. The pungent liquid made it hard for him to resist. He struggled desperately, yet forgot he was no longer a beta but an inherently weaker omega.

The crowd whistled, cheered, and screamed.

Fu Han lit a cigarette, his face shrouded in smoke. Xu Sheng was about to escalate, reaching for the scarf around Ji Qingyu’s neck, muttering obscenities.

It was then that Fu Han stood up. In the dim light, the cigarette in his hand glowed hotly. He pulled Xu Sheng’s arm away and threw a punch.

Xu Sheng’s face, usually bold and frivolous, now showed disbelief. A bruise formed at the corner of his mouth. Before he could process what had happened, he asked in confusion, "Didn’t you say you weren’t interested?"

Fu Han didn’t respond. He rolled his neck, took two slow steps, picked up an unopened bottle from the table, and smashed it down on Xu Sheng.

Glass shattered. Xu Sheng screamed, clutching his forehead as blood streamed down half his face. He didn’t dare dodge or curse. A few shrieks rang out around them. Fu Han took another slow drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around him, then picked up another bottle and smashed it down on the same spot.

After three bottles, the room fell into a dead silence, the air seeming to freeze. Ji Qingyu finally came back to his senses, standing frozen with his guitar, sweat dripping from his forehead down to his neck.

"Tired," Fu Han said slowly, jerking his chin toward the remaining bottles on the table. "You can take care of the rest yourself."

An attractive omega sitting close to Fu Han trembled in fear, shrinking back uncontrollably.

Ji Qingyu was terrified too.

Only Ji Ran remained unfazed, calmly raising his glass to sip his iced wine, his cool gaze fixed on Ji Qingyu.

Xu Sheng could barely stand. He wanted to beg for mercy, but when he saw the cold smile on Fu Han’s lips and a hint of a black tattoo showing from Fu Han’s chest, he tremblingly picked up a bottle. Ji Qingyu suddenly spoke softly, "Enough."

"Stop smashing them."

That day, Fu Han’s demeanor left Ji Qingyu deeply afraid. He had almost forgotten that Fu Han had always been this kind of person. After that, Xu Sheng never showed up again.

From then on, Ji Qingyu gradually started to cross paths with Ji Ran. Ji Ran sent Ji Qingyu flowers every day, claiming to be his fan.

But Fu Han rarely came around after that. Ji Qingyu wore that scarf all summer, and when the temporary mark finally faded, he breathed a sigh of relief, unaware that it was only the beginning.

The taxi arrived at its destination. Ji Qingyu snapped out of his thoughts and got out of the car with Nannan, who had just woken up. Fu Han was leaning by the entrance, dressed casually, arching an eyebrow as he looked at them.

"Come in and eat," Fu Han said curtly before turning and heading inside.

Nannan seemed intimidated, staying quiet the whole time and keeping her head down while eating. Worried she might feel uncomfortable, Ji Qingyu kept putting food in her bowl.

Fu Han remarked, "You’ve already given her half a bowl. Aren’t you going to eat anything yourself?"

Ji Qingyu silently added a few pieces of braised pork to Fu Han’s bowl.

Fu Han fell silent.

After the meal, Ji Qingyu contacted Nannan’s mother, who apologized profusely, saying she had just finished overtime and would need another half hour to drive over.

Ji Qingyu let Nannan wander around while he went over the final details with the lawyer.

It was just some additional contracts and clauses. As an amateur, he simply listened to the lawyer’s instructions. After wrapping things up and seeing the lawyer out, he went to ask Aunt Wang for some juice. When he turned around, he realized both Nannan and Fu Han were gone.

After searching for a while, he finally found them in the piano room.

The door was slightly ajar. Fu Han sat beside Nannan, who was chattering animatedly about something. Fu Han propped his head on his hand, responding intermittently, yet seeming surprisingly attentive. Ji Qingyu had a bad feeling.

"When Teacher Ji first started, he was much thinner than now and didn’t seem well. My mom almost didn’t let him continue teaching," Nannan recalled. "But after one lesson, she insisted on keeping him. Teacher Ji has been teaching me for a long time. He’s very patient, but he doesn’t seem to be in good health—always looking troubled."

"Was he like this years ago? Hasn’t he changed at all?" Fu Han asked, idly playing with an orange in his hand as if making casual conversation. "Still looking half-dead and just getting by?"

"Teacher Ji was in much worse shape back then. He had to teach a lot of people and work other jobs too," Nannan said, seemingly charmed by Fu Han’s looks and telling him everything without hesitation. "You have no idea how tough he had it back then!"

Fu Han stopped tossing the orange in his hand, his brows furrowing. "Someone like him, wouldn't be living poorly?"

"Of course! He's not some superhero. Back then, I asked him why he had to work so many jobs, but he wouldn't tell me. He just said I was a kid and shouldn't get involved. Isn't that discrimination against children?" Nannan muttered under her breath.

Fu Han asked something else, but Ji Qingyu couldn't make it out. Their voices grew softer and softer, as if they were whispering secrets. They talked for a full ten minutes without stopping, and Ji Qingyu grew more and more anxious. In his anxiety, he accidentally pushed the door open.

With a creak, the pair immediately fell silent.

"Juice is here!" Ji Qingyu hurriedly pretended he had just arrived, pushing the door open and offering an awkward smile.

Fu Han raised an eyebrow at him, took the juice, and eyed him up and down. "You really are too thin. It’s unpleasant to feel."

Ji Qingyu gently extricated his hand from Fu Han’s grasp.

He pulled Nannan over and headed for the door.

"What were you two talking about just now?" Ji Qingyu asked. "Don’t be fooled by his good looks. If you’re not careful, he’ll trick you."

Nannan held his hand, still holding her unfinished juice. She took another sip, blinking her eyes. "He just asked me if your throat seemed painful back then. Did you need painkillers? Were you unhappy because of your throat? I told him no. He also asked me what your mood was like when you first started teaching me—were you happier or sadder? I said that you were never sad."

"Well done," Ji Qingyu paused, thinking to himself that Fu Han really did care about his throat. Maybe he regretted that he couldn't ask him to sing whenever he wanted.

"Teacher, I don’t think he’s a bad person, right?" Nannan asked.

Everyone has various facets. Maybe Fu Han seemed kind and approachable in front of Nannan, but that didn’t necessarily apply to others.

Still, Ji Qingyu said, "Yes, he’s a good person."

"Then can we invite him to the official performance?" Nannan asked. "I think if a husband loves his wife, he would definitely be proud of her work. That’s what all the books say."

"Let’s forget it," Ji Qingyu smiled, smoothing Nannan’s hair. "He wouldn’t like it. Something this small wouldn’t catch his interest."

"Who said I wouldn’t be impressed?" A cool voice came from behind. Fu Han leaned against the wall, knees bent and arms crossed, looking at him casually. It was unclear how long he had been standing there, and he showed not a hint of guilt for eavesdropping.

"Then should I save you a seat?" Ji Qingyu was startled, his tone hesitant. Though the play had kept him busy, he hadn’t felt pressured—until the thought of Fu Han attending made him nervous. "Actually, you don’t have to force yourself. I know you have a lot going on."

"Save the seat," Fu Han said, making no move to leave. Nannan’s mother arrived shortly after, apologizing repeatedly, and Aunt Wang said she was already at the door.

Ji Qingyu held Nannan’s hand as they walked out. But before they left, Nannan had one last question: "Brother Fu, between you and Teacher, who calls the shots at home?"

Fu Han stood beside Ji Qingyu, both of them looking at him as if waiting to hear his answer.

Ji Qingyu clenched his teeth, not wanting to lose face in front of Nannan. He put on a strained smile and said, "Of course, I have the final say."

"Brother Fu, is that true?" Nannan turned to Fu Han, but before she could finish, her mother hurried over and took her away.

Ji Qingyu breathed a sigh of relief, holding onto the doorframe as he waved goodbye to Nannan. When he turned around, he found Fu Han studying him with a dark, intense gaze. Fu Han leaned in aggressively, his tone sharp. "Say that again?"

Ji Qingyu’s fingers curled nervously, and he immediately retorted, "You have the final say."

Fu Han’s eyes darkened even further.

Ji Qingyu quickly added, "Whatever you say goes."

"Of course, I have the final say. You’d better remember that clearly," Fu Han seemed pleased by his submissive response.

But before Ji Qingyu could relax, Fu Han’s next words made his heart clench again. "Since you went through such hardship back then, why not try to deceive me one more time? You know, given our history, I wouldn’t simply stand idly by and let you drown."