Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Ji Ran’s voice was a low, chilling whisper, like an evil spirit in the dark.

Ji Qingyu glanced at the man beside him. Fu Han’s eyes bore faint, bluish shadows, suggesting a long period of sleeplessness. His brow was deeply furrowed, as if caught in a nightmare, and the sight sent a pang of sympathy through Ji Qingyu’s heart.

When Ji Qingyu got out of bed, his legs were so weak and unsteady that he nearly collapsed. His limbs felt disconnected, trembling uncontrollably. Gasping for breath, he cast another look at Fu Han.

Thankfully, Fu Han was sound asleep. Ji Qingyu desperately wished for him not to witness his current disheveled state.

With great effort, Ji Qingyu reached for his phone. Ruan Jing had merely sent Fu Han a room number, followed by a heart emoji.

Fu Han had replied with a simple: "?"

He then quoted Ji Qingyu’s earlier message, "Are you okay?"

Fu Han’s response was: "I’m fine."

Ji Ran continued to pound on the door outside, seemingly unconcerned that the racket might wake Fu Han. Ji Qingyu slumped to the floor, weakly tugging at Fu Han’s sleeve and calling his name in a hushed voice.

He then struggled to his feet, half-kneeling on the bed, and gently shook Fu Han. "Fu Han, Fu Han… wake up…"

Fu Han remained motionless. Ji Qingyu noticed beads of sweat on his temples. With no other recourse, he leaned over Fu Han, enduring the sharp pain in his neck, as tears streamed down his face.

"Wake up… It wasn’t me, I didn’t do it."

Fu Han showed no sign of stirring. Fearing the worst, Ji Qingyu placed a hand on his chest, relieved to feel his heart still beating. His fingers brushed against a familiar scar.

The knocking outside grew increasingly insistent.

After a moment, Ji Qingyu wiped his tears, rose, and walked towards the door. Disoriented, he stumbled and fell heavily.

His hand brushed against something—a shattered glass bottle. Before him lay a syringe. He picked it up, realizing the dosage was three to four times stronger than his own, enough to subdue a large wild animal.

They had planned this all along—their target was Fu Han.

He pushed the door open. Ji Ran sat on a mahogany chair outside, engrossed in his phone. Beyond the window, the sky was dark and overcast with rain.

Ji Qingyu knocked the phone from Ji Ran’s hand and placed the syringe on the table, his voice hoarse as he asked, "Why?"

"You like Fu Han, don’t you? I was helping you," Ji Ran replied calmly, leaning back in his chair with a smug, gentle smile.

Ji Qingyu suddenly perceived Ji Ran as an enigma—ruthless in his pursuit of goals, devoid of empathy, yet possessing an unsettling sincerity. Until he fully revealed his true colors, no one would ever suspect him of being malicious.

"Ruan Jing was my plant from the very beginning. Actually, I wasn’t specifically targeting you—it’s always been Fu Han," Ji Ran explained. "You were just collateral damage. Can you hate me a little less for that?"

Ji Qingyu remained silent.

"I thought so," Ji Ran sighed helplessly. "I wanted you to like me, to treat me as you used to, but there was no other way. I had to do this."

"Please forgive me," Ji Ran said earnestly, as if genuinely remorseful. Ji Qingyu found it impossible to reconcile this person with the one who had just manipulated him.

He felt an insurmountable communication gap between them. He realized he had never truly known Ji Ran.

"Why…?" Ji Qingyu felt a profound sadness. He couldn’t comprehend how, just yesterday, Ji Ran had called him "brother" in his arms, and today they had reached such a devastating impasse.

Ji Ran chuckled, reaching out to tousle Ji Qingyu’s disheveled hair. Ji Qingyu looked like a broken puzzle, shattered beyond repair.

In a calm voice, Ji Ran waved a medical report. "When my people found your mother, she was crying alone. She didn’t want to worry you, so she went to the hospital alone for her diagnosis. Unfortunately, the results aren’t good."

Ji Qingyu froze, turning to stare at Ji Ran in disbelief. One devastating blow after another crashed down on him, leaving him breathless and speechless.

"Your mother once made me juice. I liked her very much, and I liked you too," Ji Ran tapped his fingers on the table. "But you have to understand—you’re just an illegitimate child."

All warmth vanished as Ji Ran laid bare the harsh reality: "Your mother’s tumor is malignant. If she doesn’t have surgery soon, it’ll be too late. Do you have the money? The initial cost is 400,000."

The amount was staggering. Lin Ying’s small fish stall only earned 30,000 a year. Even with Ji Qingyu’s part-time job, they could barely scrape together 50,000. 400,000 was an astronomical sum.

"What do you mean by 'illegitimate child'? How do you know so much about my mother?" Ji Qingyu felt dizzy and overwhelmed. The bite marks from Fu Han’s marking still ached, weakening him. The world was unfair—alphas only had to bite, while omegas were permanently bound by the mark.

"Brother, why do you think I call you 'brother'?" Ji Ran covered his mouth, chuckling softly at first, then bursting into uncontrollable laughter. "I’ve been waiting for this reaction. Did you think you were from a respectable family? You’re just an illegitimate child, hidden away. Back then, your mother went to deliver fish to a banquet’s kitchen and ran into Ji Deyong. She could only blame her bad luck."

"That’s how it is for people without power—you and your mother. People like you can be crushed underfoot by those with influence," Ji Ran sighed, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

"I know you don’t have that much money. So, I’ll make you a deal," Ji Ran sneered, toying with the syringe. "Leave Mingde, sell your songs to me, and I’ll give you 400,000."

Ji Qingyu gasped, the world around him feeling surreal. The intense pain from his body hadn’t faded, seeping deep into his bones.

"No..." Ji Qingyu closed his eyes, shaking his head.

"I can... I can ask someone else. Someone will lend me the money," Ji Qingyu muttered mechanically, barely hearing his own words.

"Who? Your poor relatives? Or..." Ji Ran spat out a name, "Or Fu Han?"

"Do you think he’d even listen to you? He probably hates you now."

The lingering scent of rain filled the air, mixed with the faint aroma of green plum seeping through the door crack. Ji Qingyu wondered—would Fu Han really listen?

Ji Ran scrolled through his phone, chuckling at something he saw.

A news notification popped up: "Breaking News: Fu Hongye, head of the Fu Corporation, has passed away. His favored grandson, Fu Han, was absent. His sons, Fu Yunbo and Fu Yunsheng, are embroiled in disputes. The board has unanimously approved Fu Yunsheng’s appointment as the new representative of the Fu family..."

"Go see your mother first," Ji Ran said. "Fu Han won’t wake up anytime soon. I used triple the normal dosage for an alpha. He won’t be able to stand properly for two or three days."

"Brother, there were times I genuinely wanted to be your brother. Being with you made me happy," Ji Ran said lightly, his hand still cold. "But, Ji Qingyu, you’re too naive. Seeing you so blissfully ignorant made me feel it was unfair."

After saying this, Ji Ran grabbed Ji Qingyu’s arm and dragged him out, shoving him into a car before getting in himself.

That was the end of everything.

Ji Qingyu was awakened by the ringing of his phone.

It was already late at night. The hospital hallway was empty. His phone showed over twenty missed calls and dozens of messages.

All from the same name.

Ji Qingyu stared at the screen, the bright light stinging his eyes in the darkness. Fu Han’s messages came in quick succession, one after another, with barely any pause.

"Where are you?"

"Where did you go? Come back now."

"If you come back now, I won’t hold it against you."

Ji Qingyu covered his face and let out a shaky breath.

He stood up. It was already 4 a.m. The next moment, Fu Han’s call came through again. Ji Qingyu stared blankly at the screen for a moment before answering.

"Where are you?" After a few seconds of silence, Fu Han’s cold voice came through, his breathing heavy. "I’ll send someone to pick you up."

Ji Qingyu felt utterly exhausted. He didn’t want to say much to Fu Han and leaned against the hospital wall, watching dust particles drifting in the air. A bitter taste coated his tongue as he said slowly, "I'm sorry... I’ll grab a cab to Half Hill Park’s south gate right now."

Fu Han hesitated but kept the line open. His voice was low as he said, "Ji Qingyu, I hope you know that I am your husband. Whatever happens, you should tell me first."

Ji Qingyu held his phone, expressionless.

"About the child—don’t think you can use the same trick to trap me. If you were pregnant, I’d only tell you to get rid of it." Fu Han’s voice turned cold again, his tone flat as he added.

"You don’t have to worry."

My child is already dead, Ji Qingyu thought. I will never have a child like that again.

"I will never have a child with you. Don’t worry." His voice was so soft it was almost inaudible.

The nurse closed the door of the service counter, took off her nurse’s cap fastened with a hairpin, and placed all the medical equipment into a metal tray, making a soft clatter. She was about to end her shift. Picking up her things, she glanced in Ji Qingyu’s direction.

The keycard buzzed, and with a click, the door was pushed open.

"You’d better be." After a long silence, Fu Han fell quiet again, leaving only the sound of breathing. After a long moment, a busy tone came from the other end of the line.

The stars outside the window dimmed, and clouds swallowed the whole city.

The lights in the hospital corridor flickered from faulty wiring, and moths fluttered around the lights.

Ji Qingyu got into the car, returned to the villa, and lay down beside Fu Han’s bed. Fu Han’s arm immediately wrapped around him, tightening more and more until Ji Qingyu could hardly catch his breath. He wanted to ask Fu Han to loosen his grip, but the other refused to let go.

He shoved weakly twice before going limp.

Fu Han’s breath brushed against his ear as he continued, "What do you like about him?"

Ji Qingyu suspected that Fu Han was entering his rut; otherwise, why would he be so sentimental, repeatedly asking pointless questions?

"I’ve never liked anyone." He didn’t want to answer anymore and simply closed his eyes. The arm around his waist burned like fire, and the scent of green plum seeped into the air. Fu Han’s teeth skimmed his neck.

Ji Qingyu broke into a cold sweat, turned over, and pressed his face into Fu Han’s chest.

He was too tired and fell asleep again. Before drifting off, he heard Fu Han muttering, "Is it because you grew up together that you like him? We’ve known each other for a long time too."

"Did you marry me because he didn’t want you and the child?" The night was cold, and Ji Qingyu shivered uncontrollably. Only beside Fu Han’s body was it warm.

Ji Qingyu was queasy and drained. He didn’t have the energy to listen to what Fu Han was saying.

He fell into a drowsy sleep, but the person behind him continued whispering softly. He couldn’t make out the words and simply nuzzled deeper into the heat. The cold voice fell silent.

Finally, it was quiet.

The green plum scent somehow felt safe. He pressed closer, and his wrist was grabbed. The air tinged with the scent of ointment, and someone brushed aside his hair to feel his forehead.

Then he was held tightly, so tight it burned. Fortunately, it was already autumn, so the warmth was still bearable.

The warm body seemed to savor his closeness. A hand patted his back gently before settling around his waist. The continuous scent of green plum soothed Ji Qingyu, and he closed his eyes, a faint smile touching his lips in his half-asleep state.

If only tomorrow could be the same when he woke up. But he knew daylight wasn’t for them—the sunlight was too bright, making their faces look warped.

Only in pitch-black nights like this could they briefly, ambiguously, hold each other.