Chapter 26

Chapter 26

The situation took an unexpected turn, leaving Ji Qingyu utterly bewildered. Fu Han shielded him, his face a mask of terrifying darkness.

Ma Yu, clutching his straw hat, darted his gaze between Ji Qingyu and Fu Han, his own expression shifting uneasily. The scene remained a chaotic din—clearly no place for a proper conversation.

"Xiao Yu, weren’t you two enemies?" Ma Yu asked, utterly perplexed, gesturing between them. "You had a terrible relationship in high school. I remember once when I went to find you, I ran into him. Don’t you remember? He didn’t even greet us—just glared at me."

"What’s between him and me is none of your business," Fu Han retorted icily, his words sharp and contemptuous, aimed squarely at the other man.

A cold sweat broke out on Ji Qingyu’s forehead. Ma Yu was his childhood friend, and he had assumed the two had rarely interacted. Why did they seem to harbor such intense animosity?

The air crackled with tension; they looked on the verge of a brawl.

Ji Qingyu reached out to tug at Fu Han’s sleeve. The scent of green plum emanating from Fu Han made him uncomfortable. He buried his chin in his scarf, gripping its fluffy edge tightly, and exhaled a shaky breath.

The scene remained chaotic. The police finally arrived and escorted the assailant away. The assistant rushed off to negotiate with onlookers, urging them to delete videos from their phones to prevent them from being posted online.

Ji Qingyu was at his limit. Still shaken, he wanted no part of further conflict, so he quickly whispered before the two could come to blows, "My wrist hurts."

Ma Yu stared at Ji Qingyu in shock. Such a cheap attempt at *sajiao* was utterly unlike the Ji Qingyu he knew, who would have rushed to comfort a crying omega, having always believed himself to be a beta mistakenly gendered.

Fu Han cast a sidelong glance at Ji Qingyu, his gaze a complex mix of anger, scrutiny, and something Ji Qingyu couldn't quite decipher. That single look sent a shiver down Ji Qingyu's spine, making his blood run cold.

"You’re always causing me trouble," Fu Han said after a brief pause. Without another word, he bent down and scooped Ji Qingyu into his arms. Ji Qingyu wrapped his arms around Fu Han’s back, resting his chin on his shoulder, enveloped in a cool, incense-like scent.

His soft hair fell onto Fu Han’s shoulder, and he clung to him like a koala.

As Fu Han brushed past Ma Yu, he let out a cold snort and deliberately bumped into him.

Brother Ma stumbled from the impact. Ji Qingyu managed an awkward smile, still perched on Fu Han’s shoulder, and made a "call me" gesture to Ma Yu.

The atmosphere between them turned glacial on the way home. Ji Qingyu tried to make himself small, silently scrolling through his phone. Outside the window, reflections flickered past, and the damp mist made the streetlights glow dimly. After one more turn, they arrived home. Fu Han deposited Ji Qingyu on the bed and left to deal with the day’s events.

Ji Qingyu opened his phone to a flurry of messages. The stage play manager, having learned what happened, profusely apologized, saying he never expected such an incident.

Ji Qingyu replied, "No worries, but I might be out of commission for a while."

"Teacher Ji, we can come to you or work online for future tasks. We’ll make time to visit you," the other party said sincerely, apologizing repeatedly.

After dealing with the manager, Ji Qingyu sighed, about to lie down when his phone rang again. This time, it was Ma Yu. Ji Qingyu answered, and the other chatted excitedly, "Hey, Xiao Yu! I’ve missed you so much."

A rare smile spread across Ji Qingyu’s face. In a good mood, he pulled a pillow into his arms, slowly resting his chin on it as he spoke into the phone, "Brother Ma, what are you doing here?"

"I recently leased an orchard and have been planting trees up in the mountains. The fruits aren’t ripe yet, so I came down to do some small business. Let me tell you, once I sell the fruits in autumn, I’ll make a killing—over a hundred grand!" Ma Yu rambled on, extremely excited, and Ji Qingyu found himself caught up in his enthusiasm.

"Show me the ropes sometime. I’ll join you in planting."

"But Xiao Yu," Ma Yu’s tone turned curious, "that guy who was with you—he looks familiar. You’ve known him since high school, right? I remember you two didn’t get along. I’ve only been in the mountains for three months—what’s the deal with you two now?"

Ji Qingyu’s smile froze. He leaned his head against the pillow, falling silent, unsure how to explain.

His mind raced. Several times, he considered deflecting with a joke, but in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to speak. Their relationship was far worse than "not getting along."

The door clicked open, and Fu Han walked in, his face like thunder.

He approached slowly, picked up Ji Qingyu’s phone, saw the number, and hung up while Ma Yu was still calling out on the other end. Fu Han let out a short, cold laugh, his expression dark as a thundercloud.

"What’s wrong?" Ji Qingyu let out a dry chuckle, hesitating before speaking. "Are you hurt? Let me take a look. Should I call a doctor?"

"Shut it," Fu Han snapped, his expression grim as he pushed Ji Qingyu onto the bed. Ji Qingyu tried to speak but was cut off.

"Don’t tell me you don’t know," Fu Han gripped Ji Qingyu’s wrist. "You’re still in contact with him?"

Ji Qingyu was stunned, a few strands of hair falling disheveled over his shoulders. Fu Han laughed in frustration at his reaction. "Still acting clueless? You always act so fearless."

Ji Qingyu was utterly lost. He opened his mouth to speak. "He’s my friend. We…"

The curtains were drawn, and the bedroom was dim, lit only by a small nightlight. Fu Han’s eyes looked deep and menacing in the faint light, like a fierce predator closing in on its prey without mercy.

He leaned down with eerie calm, his pheromones so strong it was overwhelming, chaotic and intense, enveloping Ji Qingyu in the scent of green plums. Pinned beneath Fu Han, Ji Qingyu knew he was in trouble.

"Friend?" Fu Han repeated the word slowly, sneering. "What kind of friends hug each other?"

"That was… you pushed me toward him," Ji Qingyu whispered, his hand pressed against Fu Han’s chest, feeling the warmth. "And he was just trying to steady me. Don’t make it into something it's not."

An alpha’s possessiveness was a strange thing—perhaps it applied even to omegas they had no feelings for. Fu Han’s pheromones were practically dripping, yet his expression remained calm. "You know I’m not talking about today."

If not today, then when? Ji Qingyu was puzzled. Was Fu Han dreaming or something?

The two stared at each other until Ji Qingyu finally looked away, his ears turning red.

"Maybe I should just mark you and get it over with," Fu Han said, lowering his head and slowly brushing aside Ji Qingyu’s hair. This time, he seemed serious.

Alphas always had the privilege—a single bite could brand another independent life, easy and effortless, leaving behind an indelible pain.

Panicked, Ji Qingyu grabbed a pillow and threw it at Fu Han’s face, making a break for the edge of the bed to escape. But Fu Han pulled him back. "Haven’t you always wanted to be with me? Now that I’m talking about marking you, what’s there to dislike?"

"Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?"

What kind of "want" was this? Fu Han’s teeth sank into Ji Qingyu’s gland, bringing a sharp, terrifying pain that made Ji Qingyu almost scream.

"You were the one who wanted the mark removed, and now you want to mark me again… I don’t want this…" Ji Qingyu trembled uncontrollably. He felt the pain on his neck pause, then fade, replaced by wet, soothing licks.

In the end, Fu Han let go, resorting to a more familiar way of handling Ji Qingyu, who nearly passed out.

When he woke again, the living room light was on. Ji Qingyu struggled to sit up, smelling food.

He tentatively got out of bed but his legs gave way, and he fell to his knees, knocking over a cup on the table with a sharp crash.

Aunt Wang heard the noise first and hurried in. "Madam, are you alright?"

"I’m fine," Ji Qingyu forced a smile. His neck just hurt—Fu Han, with his strong self-control and aversion, hadn’t bitten down fully, only breaking the skin slightly.

He sat there looking weak. Aunt Wang cleaned up the broken glass and brought him a glass of water. "Madam, you’ve been through too much lately—recovering from a fever, your wrist still injured, and now nearly attacked. You need to be careful."

Yeah, Ji Qingyu thought to himself, he ought to have his fortune told. Was he cursed lately? Why did he keep getting into minor accidents?

But none of these injuries compared to the emotional damage Fu Han inflicted.

"Mr. Fu has been on the phone all day, preparing to sue. That guy was beaten half to death. He was just outside saying he’s worried about you…"

"Awake?" Fu Han walked in at some point, frowning. "You’re so fragile."

Aunt Wang, cut off, shot Fu Han a disapproving look and left. Ji Qingyu shrank back, avoiding Fu Han’s gaze.

"Don’t go out for a while. If you have work, have them come here."

The sight of Fu Han instinctively made Ji Qingyu feel pain. It took him a moment to notice Fu Han was holding a bowl of tangyuan. His stomach growled in response.

He didn't understand what Fu Han meant, slowly accepting the sweet rice balls.

Fu Han sat under the lamplight, the small night light illuminating his face, revealing a sense of nobility and aloofness. "Actually, Ji Qingyu, if you behave well, it’s not impossible for us to have children together."

Here we go again, Ji Qingyu thought, lowering his head as he ate the sweet rice balls. His stomach felt comforted, but he replied flatly, "Don’t worry, I won’t covet anything beyond this. You don’t need to test me over and over again—I’m not that much of a threat."

"I mean..." Fu Han frowned.

"Really, it won’t happen. I won’t try to claim a share of your assets through such means." Ji Qingyu felt nauseous again—there was too much sugar in the sweet rice balls.

"What if there’s an accident..." Fu Han tapped his fingers on the table twice.

"Then we’ll get a divorce. I’ll walk away with nothing and won’t hold you back." Ji Qingyu gave Fu Han a smile of appeasement, speaking as if making a solemn vow.

Fu Han fell silent. Halfway through eating his red bean sweet rice balls, Ji Qingyu’s bowl was abruptly snatched away by Fu Han. He slammed it heavily onto the table with a loud clatter, startling Ji Qingyu, who was still holding his spoon.

"Why... why are you so angry?" Ji Qingyu asked, puzzled. Shouldn’t Fu Han be satisfied with his answer?

Fu Han’s mood was as unpredictable as a broken barometer. Ji Qingyu couldn’t figure him out and could only mutter silent curses in his heart, tripping over the words.

Just as Fu Han was about to say something else, there were two knocks on the door. The secretary cautiously pushed it open and said, "President Fu, the information on that extreme fan from yesterday has been compiled."