Chapter 33

Chapter 33

"So, the reason you refused to marry Fu Han back then was that your heart already belonged to someone else." Ji Qingyu confronted Ji Ran. "You truly treat marriage as a transaction, and you were willing to be with someone like that."

"Don’t misunderstand. Since we’ve reached this point, I might as well tell you—Fu Han wanted to marry *you* back then." Ji Ran’s tone was listless.

Ji Qingyu lifted his eyelids to glance at Ji Ran.

Ji Ran’s expression was no longer the exaggerated, phony smile he often wore. He had calmed down, looking at Ji Qingyu with an impassive face. "There was a time, about four or five years ago, you know, when Fu Yunsheng almost succeeded. It was when Fu Han was at his lowest, and also when I rose to fame by releasing albums featuring your songs."

Ji Ran finished the entire glass of iced soda and lit a cigarette. The smoke made Ji Qingyu deeply uncomfortable. Ji Ran’s eyes fixed intently on Ji Qingyu, his tone flat, as if he were recounting someone else’s story, something of no importance.

"One day, I held my first concert, then the second, the third... and in the front row, there was always someone sitting there—Fu Han." Ji Ran tapped the plate with a dinner knife, staring down at the ornate pastries with eyes filled with weariness and numbness.

"You’d hardly believe it, but he was there at almost every show, in every city, for many days in a row. When the tour ended, he said he wanted to buy all my songs. He asked me how much I wanted. I refused, but he came to see me every day, each time offering a higher price than the last. Finally, I was out of options. I told him you hoped I could keep singing, that we had a good relationship." Ji Ran stubbed out his cigarette on the cigarette box, leaving behind black ash. The colorful packaging curled at the edges, emitting an unpleasant burnt smell.

"Back then, I felt deeply humiliated. I didn’t understand, Ji Qingyu—why is it that you, who did nothing, still had someone who couldn’t forget you, while I, who worked so hard, always striving to please everyone and be the best, lacked your talent? I truly didn’t understand. Isn’t this just getting something for nothing?"

Hearing these absurd claims, Ji Qingyu felt numb. He didn’t want to engage with Ji Ran’s warped reasoning, but he couldn’t shake the suffocating feeling. Fu Han wanted to buy his songs? Why? To commemorate his own mistakes? To remind himself never to err again?

"That day, Fu Han kept watching me from the darkness. I thought he was dead. The look in his eyes wasn’t something a normal person should have. I felt he was going mad." Ji Ran continued.

"But later, nothing happened. Fu Yunsheng lost, and Fu Han regained control over everything. Sometimes I often wonder if the Fu Han I saw back then was just a dream. Tell me, how could someone like Fu Han ever beg others for something? How could he just let go so easily? I thought about it for a long time after that incident, and after a while, I realized—Fu Han likes you. He actually really likes you." Ji Ran finished with a scoff, his gaze growing colder as he looked at Ji Qingyu.

Ji Qingyu listened silently. He finished the coffee in front of him—an unsweetened Americano, bitter with a sour aftertaste. For some reason, the bitter taste of the coffee also made him feel nauseous. His stomach churned, and after holding back for a few seconds, he rushed into the restroom and dry-heaved.

It took him a long time to recover. He staggered back to his seat. As soon as he sat down, Ji Ran’s gaze, which had been fixed outside the window, returned to him. Ji Ran looked at him with a strange expression and asked jokingly, "You’re not pregnant, are you?"

Nonsense.

Ji Qingyu ignored Ji Ran, his fingers curling slightly. He silently wiped the water from his face. He had splashed cold water on his face earlier, and his hair was damp, but he still couldn’t calm down.

He sat back down, and the nausea gradually subsided.

"I didn’t come here to listen to this." Ji Qingyu gripped his coffee cup. His profile, under the cool early autumn light, appeared pale and calm. The well-defined lines of his arms hid faint veins, and his wrist bones tensed slightly. He stared at Ji Ran. "I need an additional payment."

Ji Ran looked at Ji Qingyu with surprise, then smiled after a moment. "Sure. I thought you called me here for something else. I’ll write you a check right now. But it’s such a small amount—you don’t need it. Just ask Fu Han for it. You’re not too proud to ask, are you?"

Ji Qingyu looked at Ji Ran. Today’s supposed heart-to-heart conversation made him even more nauseated. He didn’t know what Ji Ran saw in Fu Yunsheng—perhaps immense profit. Only something like that could tie down Ji Ran.

Just like in high school, maybe Ji Ran had some fragile fondness and dependence on him, but in the face of profit, it all became insignificant.

"This is none of your business." Ji Qingyu took the check, stood up, tightened his coat, and turned to leave.

He heard Ji Ran say lightly from behind, "Brother, now that you know the reason, don’t hate me so much. Look, aren’t you doing well now?"

"Whether I’m doing well has nothing to do with you. If I’m not doing well, it’s all thanks to you." Ji Qingyu paused, replying in a flat tone.

Perhaps influenced by Ji Ran’s joke, he grew increasingly restless after returning home. He felt unusually unwell lately, extremely out of the ordinary. He tossed and turned in bed for a long time before finally going to the hospital to schedule an appointment.

Waiting at the hospital felt like returning to the summer six years ago, to those painful nights in the rented apartment. People always say that hardships pass, but the scars remain forever, irreparable.

Occasionally, recalling those times, the sense of grievance and resentment could overwhelm him. Only by numbing himself could he barely cope with the pain, like walking on broken glass.

He watched the number on the screen, gripping the payment slip tightly, and waited another half hour.

Finally, it was his turn.

He checked the time—3:21 PM. He walked in, and the doctor routinely asked him to undergo tests. He had his blood drawn and returned to the examination room. The doctor lowered his head to examine the results. Every second was torture for Ji Qingyu. If he were pregnant, if he really were pregnant—it couldn’t be... How could it be?

The doctor studied the results for a few more seconds before turning to Ji Qingyu. Ji Qingyu stared into the doctor’s eyes. Outside the window, a bird fluttered its wings. Ji Qingyu knew he was a bird that could never fly again. He heard the doctor say, "Congratulations, you’re pregnant."

Ji Qingyu froze, his mind buzzing.

The first thing he thought of was Fu Han’s words—Fu Han said he would never let him have a child.

The doctor initially wanted to offer congratulations, but the Omega in front of him didn’t seem happy at all. He was very beautiful, with a gentle yet gloomy demeanor. Upon hearing the news, his entire body tensed up. The doctor had seen many such cases and understood immediately, and sighed inwardly.

Ji Qingyu stood motionless, a cold sweat broke out on his back. It took him a long time to find his voice, which came out hoarse and disbelieving: "Doctor, you must be mistaken. This can’t be."

The entire room felt like a tiny cage, and he was the one trapped inside.

"Impossible?" The doctor shifted the computer screen toward Ji Qingyu. "Take a look yourself. These indicators are clear. The HCG levels are well above normal. Don’t overthink it—you’re one hundred percent pregnant."

Ji Qingyu felt weak all over. He tried to stand but knocked over the stool beneath him with a dull thud.

He didn’t want to say another word.

The person waiting outside urged him on, a child crying in their arms. The infant’s wails felt particularly jarring at that moment.

"Why now? What should I do?" Ji Qingyu muttered to himself.

"What do you mean, what should you do? Go find your alpha. Talking to me here won’t help," the doctor said. "It’s normal to feel emotional in the early stages. It’ll get better after a while."

"How long has it been?" Ji Qingyu asked.

"Over a month," the doctor replied.

Over a month. So his frequent nausea and mood swings lately were because of this child? He pressed a hand to his lower abdomen, his breathing growing labored. He felt almost at a loss.

A ringtone cut through the silence abruptly. Ji Qingyu looked down and saw it was Fu Han. He couldn’t face him and sent the call to voicemail.

The calls came in relentlessly. Ji Qingyu grew even more panicked. He turned off his phone entirely. He didn’t know where to go. At times like this, the only person he could think of was Luo Sheng.

Ji Qingyu took his ID and medical records. "Thank you for your trouble."

After six years, fate had given him a second chance. He still didn’t know if he could do it well, but he wouldn’t lose his child again. This was his child.

His steps were unsteady as he left the room. He turned his phone back on, and messages from Fu Han flooded his screen. Another call came through, the ringtone piercing. Ji Qingyu stared at Fu Han’s name and answered.

"Why weren’t you answering your phone?" After a few seconds of silence, Fu Han spoke first. His tone was as cold and detached as ever. In that moment, Ji Qingyu suddenly felt a wave of panic. His back pressed against the hospital’s cold wall, his palms clammy with sweat.

Fu Han wouldn’t want this child.

He thought.

"I was talking to Nannan earlier and didn’t hear your call," Ji Qingyu said weakly.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. What do you want for dinner? I’ll make fish poached in spicy broth for you." Ji Qingyu’s words tumbled out uncontrollably. He tried to sound calm, but his voice trembled despite his efforts.

"Don’t bother cooking," Fu Han paused. "Just come back early."

"Okay..."

After hanging up, Ji Qingyu covered his face with his hands.

He walked to an empty corner of the hospital corridor and wept silently, suppressed and restrained, until he had let it all out. Then, slowly, he stood up.

Leaves rustled and fell outside the hospital.

He hurriedly hailed a taxi by the roadside.

His eyes were red-rimmed as he stumbled through the door. Luo Sheng was inspecting the saplings in the yard and, seeing Ji Qingyu in such a panicked state, became tense too.

"What's wrong?" Luo Sheng rushed over to support Ji Qingyu, asking gently. His gaze fell first on the plastic bag in Ji Qingyu's hand—the name of the medication was familiar to him; he had used it himself when he was pregnant with Fu Han. After just one glance, he froze.

Ji Qingyu was completely dazed. He gripped Luo Sheng's hand, appearing calm on the surface, but inside he had already shattered, barely holding it together. Trembling, he said, "Uncle, I'm pregnant."