Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Ji Qingyu felt utterly unmoved.

Fu Han had always been like this since high school, constantly surrounded by "beauties."

Ji Qingyu had nothing to say.

In high school, the library's corner was often occupied by just the two of them, along with omegas drawn by Fu Han's reputation. The upper class had a strict hierarchy, and the second-generation heirs held a clear scale in their minds: whoever could attach themselves to the Fu family and connect with Fu Han would see their own family advance.

After being approached by omegas one too many times, Ji Qingyu started to feel uncomfortable. He carried his fairy tale book to the circulation desk, swiping his student ID to check it out.

Fu Han appeared behind him at some point, leaning down to take the book from the borrowing machine in a gesture that was almost an embrace. Fu Han's voice held a hint of laughter.

"Why are you angry?"

"Why would I be angry?" Ji Qingyu ignored Fu Han, simply tugging the book back from his hand, intending to leave, but Fu Han grabbed the collar of his knit sweater and pulled him back.

It was already autumn. The leaves had turned yellow, swaying endlessly outside the school's transparent windows. Students joked and played in pairs. Fu Han placed a box of strawberry yogurt in Ji Qingyu's hand. His tone was uncharacteristically gentle, like the warm sun on an autumn afternoon, easily capable of making a smitten omega dizzy with affection. "Alright, what do they have to do with me?"

*Then what does that make me?*

Ji Qingyu didn't voice the thought, but he didn't leave either. He spent the afternoon nestled on the sofa with Fu Han. He read fairy tales, then leaned over the table to write songs, his pen tapping lightly. Fu Han was reviewing contracts—too wordy for Ji Qingyu's interest. That day, he and Fu Han were unusually close, their elbows occasionally bumping, yet Ji Qingyu didn't feel disturbed.

As evening approached, Fu Han received a phone call, saying he had family matters and needed to leave early. Ji Qingyu read alone for a while, found it dull, and decided to leave as well.

He walked slowly along the school's asphalt path, wearing a short cashmere sweater over his shirt, wired earbuds in his ears. The white earphone cord swayed with his steps. He was lost in thought, the wind brushing past him, carrying the scent of damp earth and fresh grass.

On such an evening, it seemed like nothing needed to be worried about. He stepped on the golden leaves covering the ground, which crunched underfoot, but froze abruptly when he saw the scene ahead.

A sports car was parked at the school gate, and beside it stood a woman who looked innocent and beautiful, yet exuded an unusually mature aura. Her gown made her resemble a mermaid, and she carried a Birkin bag, idly scrolling through her phone.

Fu Han familiarly wrapped his arm around the woman’s lithe waist, whispered something in her ear, and got into the car.

Ji Qingyu couldn't hear anything anymore. His earphones were playing a secret crush love song, but his mind was filled only with ringing. Fu Han was a bird soaring in the sky, and he was just wild grass by the roadside. But even though he had long known it, it still hurt.

Ji Qingyu found it hard to describe how he felt back then—far more intense than now. At this moment, he felt nothing, no heartache or anguish, because he was no longer eighteen.

Ji Qingyu shook his head, refusing Ji Ran’s malicious suggestion, his tone flat. "I won’t join that commotion."

If he upset Fu Han, he'd be the one to suffer for it later.

Ji Ran raised an eyebrow. The middle-aged bartender placed another cosmopolitan in front of him. The red liquid swayed, foam carrying fleeting bubbles—everything melting into alcohol and dreams.

Ji Ran spun the glass, suddenly changing the subject: "Though the omegas around him are never the same, Fu Han is truly formidable. At eighteen, he managed to bring down his own uncle. Look at him now—his uncle has lost everything, forced to beg the Fu family for a shred of old affection like a lapdog. Victory and defeat define this cruel world."

Ji Ran tapped his finger on the wine glass, his eyes carrying a cold, dismissive gleam, yet he still smiled. "Someone like Fu Han—even if I were to marry him, I wouldn’t be confident I could hold onto him. Marriage is like business; you always have to calculate carefully to profit from it."

The bartender, as if unaware of Ji Ran’s sarcasm, chuckled softly. Only then did Ji Qingyu realize he was Fu Yunsheng, Fu Yunbo’s younger brother and Fu Han’s uncle.

Six years ago, he had nearly snatched the Fu empire from Fu Yunbo’s hands but ultimately lost to Fu Han. His carefully crafted schemes fell apart, his trump cards all taken away. To humiliate him further, Fu Yunbo even made him work here as their bartender.

Ji Qingyu felt a pang of sorrow.

Their lives had seen sudden reversals of fortune, plunging to the depths like a rollercoaster before turning again. No one’s life could be smooth sailing; it always shattered when it seemed perfect. Happiness was like soap bubbles—the tighter you grasped it, the more it broke.

But Fu Han was different. He remained untouchable, never admitting defeat.

"Where is Fu Han?" Ji Qingyu heard his own voice ask. Ji Ran was observing the bitter lemon in his glass and laughed when he heard Ji Qingyu.

"What, had a change of heart?"

"I just want to see it with my own eyes," Ji Qingyu said slowly. He comforted himself—just one look, then he’d leave immediately.

Golden music flowed through the winery, the damp chill from the terrace seeping in, making Ji Qingyu feel cold. Ji Ran stood up and led Ji Qingyu upstairs.

Fu Yunbo and Ji Deyong were still discussing something, laughing heartily, arms around each other’s shoulders. But if their interests collapsed, today’s allies would readily tear a piece of flesh from each other’s backs.

The second floor was dedicated guest rooms for resting, quiet and secluded, without even surveillance. The private dealings among the powerful often occurred in these shadowy, filthy corners.

"At the end, the room on the left. Here’s the keycard." Ji Ran’s eyes curved into smiles. "Good luck, brother."

"Though you might not believe it, I’ve always supported you. Don’t forget, without me and that omega back then, you two wouldn’t be where you are today." Ji Ran spoke slowly. "You haven’t forgotten her, have you?"

Ji Qingyu ignored Ji Ran. His phone was in his pocket—pressing the button would send a distress signal. He also carried high-potency suppressants; nothing would go wrong.

Ji Ran leaned against the corridor, arms crossed, legs slightly bent. Ji Qingyu thought he had indeed drunk too much today, walking unsteadily on the carpet.

"Brother, before you go, let me kindly remind you," Ji Ran said quietly. "Remember that special package I sent Fu Han? I thought the fuse should have burned out long ago, but he’s been quiet all this time. Do you think he simply doesn’t care about you, or cares too much?"

Ji Qingyu’s mind was hazy from drink. He ignored Ji Ran’s words and walked forward. At some point, Ji Ran had left.

Ji Qingyu’s heart felt heavy. As he approached, he found the door ajar. Fu Han leaned against the bedside, and indeed, a male omega sat on the floor—though the two weren’t doing what he had imagined. The omega was merely crying.

"Fu Han, I can do it. I’m willing to give up everything for you, to have your children. What’s so good about that inferior person? There’s no real feelings between you two, right?" The omega’s voice was clearly breaking down and choked with sobs, his hand feebly grasping Fu Han’s suit pants.

"You seem to have misunderstood something," Fu Han said, his cigarette burning unattended. The acrid smoke made the omega cough uncontrollably, his pretty face full of sorrow. Fu Han continued mercilessly, "What happens between him and me is none of your business."

The omega’s tears melted with his meticulously applied makeup, but he still clutched desperately at Fu Han’s clothes.

Ji Qingyu’s fingers gripped the doorframe tightly.

The omega stood up, breaking down, shouting loudly, "You just don’t understand! I’m better than him in every way! Why can’t it be me? He’s uglier than me, not as clever—so what if he can write a couple of songs? I can too!! My family background is better than his, I—"

"Are you done?" Before he could finish, Fu Han’s voice turned cold. "You’re not his equal in any way."

Fu Han’s voice returned to its emotionless tone, his gaze shifting away from the omega, not willing to linger for a moment. He retreated back into the darkness.

The omega was frozen in place. After a moment of dazed shock, he broke down and rushed out, colliding with Ji Qingyu, who was still dazed at the door. Ji Qingyu quickly waved his hands, awkwardly explaining, "I didn’t hear anything."

The omega paused briefly, then covered his face and shoved his shoulder hard against Ji Qingyu’s before running away miserably.

Ji Qingyu staggered from the impact, his shoulder aching, but he sighed inwardly. Watching the omega run off, he felt a sense of shared despair.

He thought his own fate would be the same eventually—it was only a matter of time. Rubbing his shoulder, he figured since he'd misunderstood, he could leave now. But before he took two steps, someone stopped him from behind.

"What are you doing here?" Fu Han pushed the door open from inside. He seemed puzzled but soon returned to his usual calm as if nothing had happened. Fu Han smiled. "So worried about me?"

Before Ji Qingyu could say anything, Fu Han pulled him inside.

"You’ve got the nerve to come catch me in the act," Fu Han said deliberately, fiddling with Ji Qingyu’s necktie, his tone lifting, seeming to brighten somewhat. "How much did you hear just now?"

"I just got here. I didn’t hear anything," Ji Qingyu said quietly.

Fu Han’s fingers brushed lightly over Ji Qingyu’s throat, his beautiful neck, then traced the edge of his collarbone where a small mole lay.

Ji Qingyu’s body began to tremble. Wherever Fu Han’s fingers landed, his senses heightened intensely.

Fu Han extinguished the cigarette and opened the window. The cold wind swept in, carrying a chill. The night was rarely clear with stars, but no one had the leisure to appreciate it.

"Have you ever counted the moles on your body?" Fu Han's voice carried a hint of teasing as his hand slid down Ji Qingyu's body, stopping at his waist. After years of holding multiple jobs, Ji Qingyu's waist was covered in a thin layer of muscle—firm yet soft.

"Who would count something like that..." Ji Qingyu mumbled softly, but Fu Han's hand had already slipped beneath the hem of his shirt.

"On your waist, right at the bottom rib, there's a small mole," Fu Han said unhurriedly, as if merely offering a friendly reminder. His fingers traced the spot and pressed down firmly, eliciting a muffled groan from Ji Qingyu. "Right here."

"They say the places where moles grow are where a person was injured in their past life," Fu Han remarked, increasing the pressure.

"Your brother came to see me not long ago." Fu Han's brow furrowed slightly as his hand slid downward from the mole. Ji Qingyu's knees grew weak, making him lean on Fu Han’s arm for support.

The night rain grew heavier, and Ji Qingyu collapsed into Fu Han's embrace—broad and warm, as if it could shield him from any storm.

But the next moment, Fu Han let out a scornful laugh. Perhaps because of the cold weather, Ji Qingyu's wrist began to ache again.

In the dimly lit room, the faint light was hazy. A broad palm trailed from his waist, caressing his body, and finally settled on his lower abdomen, the pressure suddenly intensifying.

Ji Qingyu let out a muffled groan and trembled.

"He told me you were once pregnant, and the child wasn't mine?" The Alpha's tone was gentle and calm, like a lover's sincere whisper, his voice low and deep. "Ji Qingyu—this is the last time I'll ask you—is there anything you're hiding from me?"