Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Ji Qingyu felt completely drained. His emotions had been fluctuating rapidly lately, perhaps due to the stress from the situation with Lin Ying.

Fu Yunbai raised an eyebrow and stood up expressionlessly. "At least you're being sensible. Think about what I said as soon as possible."

He brushed off imaginary dust from his clothes, maintaining his usual detached and cold demeanor.

"Don’t come here again," Fu Han confronted Fu Yunbai. They didn't seem like father and son and more like enemies. "Just because you’re unhappy, must you destroy everyone else’s family?"

These people were too high and mighty; they don't take others' feelings seriously and always prioritize their own interests.

Fu Yunbai opened his mouth as if to say something but ultimately let out a cold laugh before turning and leaving.

Fu Han pressed his hand against Ji Qingyu’s forehead and frowned. "Don’t listen to his nonsense."

The room was empty. The alpha’s body temperature was comfortably warm, enveloping him. Ji Qingyu couldn’t tell whether this warmth was real or just a trick of his memory.

Ji Qingyu felt even more nauseous. Dizzy and confused, his body no longer felt like his own. Fu Han was saying something in his ear, but all he could hear was a constant ringing.

The endless tinnitus made his mind wander. Then, with effort, he pushed away Fu Han’s hand, which was gripping his arm, and rushed to the bathroom to dry-heaving.

He felt as though he was about to vomit stomach acid—an utterly unpleasant sensation. Behind him, Fu Han’s hand braced against the doorframe. Ji Qingyu’s body was thin and weak, with bruises that hadn't faded still visible around his waist from days earlier.

He stood up and turned to see Fu Han. Sweat had dampened his hair, sticking to his face in strands. His eyes were wet.

The look of what could almost be called concern in this arrogant man’s eyes struck Ji Qingyu as hard to believe.

Fu Han’s grip on his arm hurt. Ji Qingyu pushed him away. "I’m fine. I’m just a bit tired."

Lately, he had been having frequent nightmares, dreams of his previous child. The pressure weighed heavily on him, and he didn’t know what was happening to himself.

The doctor came again in the evening. Ji Qingyu, still groggy, couldn't hear clearly what the doctor was saying. His hand was clasped in Fu Han’s, both their palms sweaty. He wanted Fu Han to let go, but he didn’t even have the strength to move his fingers.

He felt himself being carried to bed. He turned over, wrapped in something warm and comforting. The embrace was so warm he didn’t want to leave.

Then, he felt something cool against his neck. Was Fu Han going to bite him again? He needed to turn over quickly to avoid giving Fu Han the chance. He had to leave—if he were permanently marked, he wouldn’t be able to escape.

But Ji Qingyu was too tired. He could only vaguely aware someone holding him. He dreamed all night, surprisingly pleasant dreams—even dreaming that his first child had survived. She was six years old now, adorable, hugging him and calling him "Mom."

How he loved that word.

When he woke the next morning, the bed was empty beside him. On the nightstand were a glass of warm water and some pills, with a note underneath detailing instructions for the medication.

Ji Qingyu felt weak all day. His meals were brought to his bedroom by Aunt Wang.

Alone in his room, his phone lit up. It was Ma Yu. He answered the call. "Xiaoyu, I just remembered—back when your mother first got sick, there was a day it was raining, and you were minding the fish stall for her. I saw Fu Han that day. He looked terrifying, and you seemed really down. I hugged you to comfort you, and I think he saw."

"Was there some misunderstanding? If he wasn’t there for revenge, what was he doing? I saw him two or three times that late summer, standing there motionless. He wouldn’t even speak to me. Could he have been looking for you?" Ma Yu sounded uncertain. "I also remember once seeing him in the hallway, just standing there like a statue outside your door. God, it was the middle of the night—really scary."

Ji Qingyu put his phone down.

He had been feeling exhausted these past few days. He took two melatonin pills hoping to sleep early, but nightmares kept coming. In the middle of the night, he was held by someone whose breath felt hot against his skin. He wondered if Fu Han had been drinking again and wanted to tell him to drink less.

Barely awake, he tried to move away from Fu Han but was held tightly. "Don’t go."

Ji Qingyu was sure Fu Han was drunk.

"Don’t go, don’t go…"

Fu Han gripped Ji Qingyu’s hand, muttering.

His voice was so hot it made Ji Qingyu’s heart ache.

Ji Qingyu looked at him and gently patted the hand wrapped around him.

"I’ve forgiven you for everything. I can pretend the past never happened. Ji Qingyu, let’s just keep living like this, okay?" How much had he drunk? Or was Ji Qingyu hallucinating? Fu Han would never say such things. Ji Qingyu opened his eyes. The night breeze was chilly—the window was open.

No.

He thought to himself.

It started drizzling outside.

The script for the stage play was finalized, and he was asked to attend the performance in a couple of days. Fu Han, somehow finding out, wanted to go with him.

Lately, Fu Han had been following Ji Qingyu whenever he went out.

The play was well-received, even gaining some attention online. The music was widely praised, though it was regrettable that the two omegas didn’t end up together—not really a good story.

"So this is the work you took on?" Fu Han asked suddenly on their way home. "What’s so good about it?"

"It’s just work. I thought it was suitable, so I accepted," Ji Qingyu replied softly.

"Accept scripts with happier endings from now on. Not ones like this." Fu Han had been busy lately. He took a call in the car, and whatever the person on the other end said, Fu Han yelled at them harshly.

Ji Qingyu leaned closer to the window. It must have been a work call. Fu Han went on and on, and this side of him still frightened Ji Qingyu, who moved even further away.

Fu Han’s patience was always limited. Not wanting to provoke him, Ji Qingyu quietly retreated to the bedroom once they got home. Fu Han went to his study, closing the door and separating them.

The doctor came for daily check-ups. Ji Qingyu’s wrist was fine now, and his gland had long healed, though he still experienced some nerve pain. But from the doctor’s expression, Ji Qingyu sensed there was something left unsaid.

Ji Ran had started contacting Ji Qingyu again. In a rare bit of good news, Lin Ying’s surgery date was finally making progress.

Ji Qingyu felt slightly better. He hurriedly threw on some clothes and left, avoiding the driver to hail a taxi himself.

When Ji Qingyu rushed into the hospital, the doctor in a white coat was holding a medical chart, surrounded by others discussing terms like "space-occupying lesion" and "indicators"—all jargon Ji Qingyu couldn’t understand. He was seated and waiting for the verdict.

Finally, the lead doctor looked up. "Let me put it simply. There’s a good opportunity now for a craniotomy. This is the best chance to help your mother wake up. See, the mass is here… We use minimally invasive methods now—just three small holes. But we have to be clear about the risks. Do you understand?"

"I understand," Ji Qingyu said, his hands trembling slightly. "Doctor, what is the success rate? Could things get worse?"

"All surgeries carry risks. You need to understand that. The success rate… We can only say now is the best time. We can’t guarantee anything else." The doctor adjusted his glasses. "We’re just laying out the possibilities."

He slid a piece of paper toward Ji Qingyu. "Sign if you've decided."

"Doctor, I need more time to think," Ji Qingyu said, unable to decide.

"What more is there to think about? If you miss this chance, there may not be another."

Ji Qingyu’s hand shook as he held the pen. After signing, he asked the doctor numerous questions, until the doctor was almost annoyed, before preparing to leave. Turning, he ran into Ji Ran. Of course—the specialists here were brought in by Ji Ran. How could he not know about any developments?

Ji Ran grabbed Ji Qingyu and pushed him against the wall. "You posted that kind of video online?"

Ji Qingyu slapped his hand away. "Your fans are threatening to stab me, and you’re here questioning me?"

"I have plenty of dirt on you. Don’t forget who’s lying in that hospital bed." Ji Ran smiled, leaning close to Ji Qingyu’s ear. "If you want her surgery to go smoothly, you’ll have to do me another favor."

"What favor?" Ji Qingyu leaned against the wall, feeling as though he was trapped in a spider’s web, being wrapped tighter and tighter.

"It's nothing big. You can get into Fu Han's study, right? Look for any materials related to Chenxing Architecture, then take photos and send them to this phone." Ji Ran handed Ji Qingyu a phone. "Do this for me, and you’re off the hook for everything after this. Then you can just disappear. It’s not like you’re attached to Fu Han, right? Leave with your mother and start a new life somewhere else."

"What you're asking is illegal." Ji Qingyu had no intention of agreeing. "Haven't you already established connections with the Fu family? Why are you still doing something like this?"

"That's none of your business." As he spoke, Ji Ran forcibly shoved the phone into Ji Qingyu's hand. "I’ve already let you slide twice before. The only reason I haven’t moved against you until now is because you were still useful. Now it’s time for you, as a pawn, to make your move."

"Does Ji Deyong know about this?" Ji Qingyu felt he had forgotten something very important. Back then, did Ji Qingyu frame him just because he disliked him? Why was Fu Yunsheng so well-prepared during the turmoil in the Fu family back then? He looked at Ji Ran’s face, which still showed no sign of guilt.

He also recalled the figure he had seen not long ago at the dance, embracing Fu Yunsheng. Many things were almost connected in his mind, but he just couldn’t grasp the thread.

"Then that’s even less of your concern." Ji Ran twirled his sunglasses a couple of times. Recently, he hadn’t appeared in public, and the online backlash couldn’t be suppressed. Someone had dug up a video of Ji Qingyu performing in a bar during high school. Back then, the songs Ji Qingyu sang were the same ones Ji Ran released after his debut. Most people wouldn’t be able to withstand such a storm, but Ji Ran was clearly not most people.

He could still act playful and cute.

"I won’t help you." Ji Qingyu repeated.

"Then I can’t guarantee whether your mother’s surgery will go smoothly." Ji Ran hugged Ji Qingyu. "Brother, think about it—soon you’ll be leaving. What does the Fu family or Fu Han have to do with you anymore? Think carefully about who matters more to you. Many opportunities in life come only once. Your mom’s been waiting for this chance forever. Don’t let yourself live with regret."