Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Ji Qingyu found it hard to describe the sensation of drinking that medicine, and he had no desire to relive it.

At eighteen, he’d believed a phone call could secure forgiveness, unaware that the other person had never intended to grant him that opportunity.

Ji Qingyu often felt he had been too naive at eighteen, harboring many unrealistic and overambitious ideas. Yet, reality repeatedly taught him how to properly position himself.

No matter how hard he tried, he might never reach the other shore, so eventually, he stopped striving.

The sound of conversation drifted in from outside, seemingly from the doctor and Fu Han. These days, due to Ji Qingyu's hand injury, Fu Han had called the family doctor over multiple times, who also took the opportunity to reexamine his throat and glands.

The doctor was named Lin Shui, reportedly a top graduate from a prestigious university. Ji Qingyu greatly admired such high-achievers.

"...Artificially caused damage, yes, likely drug corrosion," Lin Shui’s voice stated. "I’ve analyzed the scans carefully; there's no mistake."

Fu Han sat in a chair, arm resting on the desk, listening to Lin Shui’s report while tapping the tabletop with his hand.

He seemed lost in thought. When Fu Han was deep in contemplation, he often cupped his chin, his eyes fixed on the other person—or sometimes not looking at all. Just his presence was enough to make people feel pressured.

Ji Qingyu listened for a moment outside the study before quietly leaving. When Lin Shui came out and saw Ji Qingyu, he paused briefly, then greeted him, "Madam."

Ji Qingyu was about to go out. He wore a warm camel-wool trench coat today, his eyes clear and bright.

"Dr. Lin," Ji Qingyu smiled, pouring a cup of tea for Lin Shui. "What were you discussing?"

Lin Shui averted his gaze, rubbing his ear. "Nothing important. Just don’t forget to change the dressing on your hand. The bandage needs to be replaced once a day. It should heal in about a month. Mr. Fu remembers better than I do, but you should take care of it too."

Ji Qingyu stood up to thank him and saw Lin Shui out. Afterward, he glanced toward the master bedroom.

In truth, he didn’t have much luggage. It was all stacked in a corner of the master bedroom and could probably fit into one small suitcase. Lin Ying’s surgery was scheduled for a week later, which gave him just enough time to finish writing the stage play. As for the rut cycle, Fu Han never needed him before, so it should be the same now.

After some thought, he headed out to work. Fu Han had closed the study door. Ji Qingyu knocked lightly and told him he was leaving, but there was no response.

*What kind of mood is he in now?*

He knocked twice more but gave up and decided to just leave. Suddenly, someone pulled him back from behind and felt the material of his coat.

"Too thin," Fu Han said. "If you go out and freeze into an ice block, how am I supposed to hold you to sleep?"

Ji Qingyu was caught off guard by the remark. A thick scarf was wrapped around his neck. Fu Han was being unusually kind to him today—who knew which nerve had misfired this time? He slowly looked up at Fu Han from behind the scarf. Fu Han didn’t say anything, just slipped on his own trench coat and said, "I’ll take you."

Today, he was going to a café to discuss with the stage production director how to write the character songs for the two main characters.

In the car, Fu Han suddenly asked, "Is there still something you’re hiding from me?"

*Which thing is he referring to?* Ji Qingyu didn’t dare make any sudden moves, pretending to be asleep. After a while, a hand reached over, pulled down his scarf to expose his mouth and nose, and brushed away the stray hairs on his forehead.

When they arrived at the café, Fu Han wanted to go in with him. Ji Qingyu smiled awkwardly and said, "Fu Han... if you go in, they might be too intimidated."

Fu Han gave a cool laugh. Leaning against the car, he tilted his head to look at Ji Qingyu like some fallen vampire demon—elegant, beautiful, and exceptionally dangerous.

He reached out, pinching Ji Qingyu’s cheek. "You’re just going to leave me here like this?"

Ji Qingyu smiled, looked around, and seeing no one except a fruit cart, quickly kissed the corner of Fu Han’s mouth. He flushed with embarrassment. "Um, I’ll just take a taxi back later."

Fu Han wasn’t satisfied. He took Ji Qingyu’s chin, leaned in, and kissed him deeply. Ji Qingyu, pressed against his chest, was left breathless before being released.

Fu Han returned to the car, opened his laptop, and seemed ready to get back to work. "Go on," he ordered.

Ji Qingyu quickly made his exit.

As he entered the café, an unfamiliar number called his phone. He didn’t recognize it, so he didn’t answer, but the number persisted.

He blocked the number. Shortly after, the stage play director contacted him, saying he might be late. Ji Qingyu told him not to rush and gazed out the window. The goldenrain trees along the street were in bloom, and a small fruit stall stood outside the café. The weather was always so cold this time of year.

A short while later, the driver suddenly approached, saying someone wanted to see him. Ji Qingyu blinked, put down his tablet, and asked slowly, "Who is it?"

"They say they’re your fan, Madam. Not sure how they found this place." The driver handed him a banner—merchandise from the "Grimm’s Fairy Tales" stage play.

This was unexpected.

"Let them come over," Ji Qingyu said, ordering a coffee for the visitor and straightening his clothes. He cleared his throat, feeling unexpectedly nervous.

The person seemed young, a teenager wearing a baseball cap. Their clothes were tidy, but something about their demeanor made Ji Qingyu vaguely uncomfortable.

The waiter brought the coffee. Ji Qingyu pushed the warm latte toward the other person, hesitant to speak first for fear his voice might startle them.

But the other person kept their head down. After waiting a while, Ji Qingyu finally spoke up: "Hello, would you like an autograph?"

The person remained silent, pursed their lips, and stared at the coffee. After a moment, they slowly said, "Does stealing someone else’s things make you happy?"

Ji Qingyu froze, stood up, but was forcefully pushed back into his seat by the person gripping his shoulder.

The driver was outside and couldn’t see what was happening.

Ji Qingyu immediately realized—this was Ji Ran’s fan. He frowned, never expecting someone would actually do something so dangerous. Besides, he hadn’t actually harmed Ji Ran; he’d only added his own name to works he wrote.

He found the situation surreal, unsure whether he had been too tolerant, allowing others to take advantage, or if Ji Ran’s fanbase simply had no shortage of such troublemakers.

"I didn’t steal anything from him," Ji Qingyu said, secretly feeling for his phone in his pocket and pressing the emergency call button. "Those songs were written by me. Taking back what’s mine—since when is that wrong?"

"What do you mean *your* songs? Ranran has been performing them at concerts for years—they’re his! Besides, you have no career anyway, what’s wrong with letting him have them?" The fan’s gaze darkened. "You’re just a bastard child—you owe him."

"So legal rulings mean nothing? Only what your idol says is the truth? Those songs were stolen by him—he’s the thief." Ji Qingyu was astounded by the fan’s unreasonable logic. What kind of mind could twist things so shamelessly?

Ji Qingyu tried to recall who was first on his emergency contact list. Before he could remember, the fan’s expression twisted violently, as if exposing a criminal meant eliminating them. Muttering under their breath, they pulled out a fruit knife in a fit of rage.

"You didn’t just steal his songs—you stole his boyfriend too. Everyone online says Fu Han originally liked Ranran. Do you have any idea how much he lost because of you? It’s all your fault." They spoke with self-righteous conviction, as if fighting for a noble cause.

"So it was you sending those cursed messages and harassing calls all along," Ji Qingyu stated as a fact.

"So what?" The fan’s voice grew louder, their hand shaking as they gripped the knife. "Those who hurt others must pay the price."

"Keep those words for yourself," Ji Qingyu almost laughed. He felt fear, but also a deep sense of absurdity and sorrow. *Look at this—using stolen goods to win so much love.* "If you hurt me, it’ll only bring more negative attention to Ji Ran."

But he underestimated the fan’s resolve. Hearing this, the fan’s eyes widened with a sacrificial fervor, lunging forward with the knife.

The attack was fierce and terrifying. Fortunately, the fruit knife wasn’t sharp, only tearing a gash in his clothes.

Ji Qingyu shoved the fan away and ran for the door, unsure if his emergency call had gone through.

He shouted for help. Realizing the knife wasn’t effective, the fan grabbed Ji Qingyu by the neck.

The driver rushed over. Ji Qingyu’s consciousness began to blur—he never expected things to escalate so suddenly. He struggled fiercely. Just then, a sports car screeched to a halt outside, crashing toward the café.

The glass window shattered. The fan, startled, loosened their grip. Ji Qingyu elbowed them hard in the ribs, and the fan cried out in pain.

The café descended into chaos. People screamed and fled, some even filming Ji Qingyu and the frenzied fan on their phones. Coffee cups overturned, screams echoed, and everything fell into disorder.

Ji Qingyu ran outside as Fu Han got out of the sports car. Ji Qingyu couldn't make out his expression clearly, only the tightly furrowed brows.

In that instant, the other person screamed and lunged at Ji Qingyu. Fu Han was still over twenty meters away. Ji Qingyu swung his tablet and smashed it against the attacker’s head.

The man staggered, about to fall down, but with some inexplicable burst of strength, he stubbornly grabbed Ji Qingyu’s ankle again.

The knife was about to plunge into Ji Qingyu’s calf. He prepared to meet his heroic end.

But the next second brought no feeling of pain—instead, a sharp cry of agony came from behind him. The owner of a roadside fruit stall had hurled a watermelon at the person. The melon shattered explosively against the man’s head, causing the person to stagger and pause for two steps.

Fu Han arrived belatedly, grabbed Ji Qingyu’s hand and pushing him to a safe place before viciously kicking the assailant.

He was often fierce but took extra care never to show this side in front of Ji Qingyu. It had been so long since Ji Qingyu had seen Fu Han like this.

Perhaps angered intensely, Fu Han ground the man's face with his leather shoe, yanked his hair—his extensive fighting experience taught him how to inflict the most pain.

He kicked repeatedly at the fan’s abdomen like a combative, vicious wolf, ferocious and violent, as if truly intent on killing him. Ji Qingyu suspected several of the fan’s ribs had already been broken by Fu Han.

“Stop hitting him.” Ji Qingyu backed away several steps, urgently pleading with Fu Han to stop. He feared Fu Han wouldn’t hold back, that continuing would really result in someone's death.

He shouted several times. Fu Han’s foot was already stepping on the man’s ankle, as if considering how best to break it. Hearing Ji Qingyu’s cries, he reluctantly halted. The assistant and driver rushed over as well, calling the police.

Fu Han turned to look at Ji Qingyu, still panting. The hundred-meter sprint and brutal beating had left his hair disheveled.

His handsome face showed rare tension as he walked toward Ji Qingyu. Sweat dripped onto his eyelids, blurring his vision. Even so, he remained so strikingly beautiful that Ji Qingyu couldn’t look away.

Ji Qingyu, also shaken, had just caught his breath when he heard someone call his name. He looked up and saw the face of the person behind him— shaded under a straw hat, with sun-reddened skin and well-defined muscles visible on his arms.

Ji Qingyu’s eyes widened slightly. He spoke slowly, uncertainly: “Brother Ma?”

Fu Han’s steps toward them paused abruptly.

“Xiao Yu, it really is you. What are you doing here?” The stall owner pulled off his straw hat, revealing his sunburned face, equally astonished. “And why are you with this guy?”

This guy? Which guy?

“If he’s not with me, who should he be with?” Fu Han reacted more strongly than either of them. He pulled Ji Qingyu close, raised an eyebrow at the other man, and released intensely aggressive pheromones.

Two alphas stood in confrontation.