Chapter 51

Chapter 51

Ji Qingyu opened his eyes, staring blankly at Fu Han.

The dark circles under Fu Han’s eyes were like a brand, and his entire gaze seemed slightly swollen. Fu Han lowered his head, holding Ji Qingyu’s hand like a devout Buddhist, while Ji Qingyu himself seemed to have become the enshrined deity of his worship.

After turning eighteen, it felt as if half his life had been spent in hospitals. Looking back now, those six years remained a hazy, gray expanse.

"I thought you had abandoned me. I dreamed you said you regretted knowing me, that I was too selfish and cold, and so you were leaving me. But I truly, truly… know I was wrong." Fu Han’s voice was very soft, yet Ji Qingyu heard every word distinctly.

"I’m afraid that every time you think of me, you’ll remember my flaws first. How much penance do I need to do to erase those mistakes, to make you forget the wrongs I’ve committed?" Fu Han’s eyes were red, his brows slightly furrowed, looking genuinely lost.

Ji Qingyu felt utterly weak. With a trembling hand, still pierced by an IV needle, he managed to pull a tissue from the bedside table to wipe Fu Han’s tears. He sighed inwardly—he couldn’t bear to see this man cry like this in front of him.

"‘One more chance’—you’ve said that many times already," Ji Qingyu said. "Stop crying. I don’t have the strength to comfort you right now."

This man, honestly. He was the one who had just woken up, he was the frail one, and half the reason for his surgery was due to the man before him. So why was it Fu Han who was weeping as if his heart would break? Shouldn’t Ji Qingyu be the one crying?

He found it somewhat amusing, yet also felt a pang of sadness. He rarely saw Fu Han cry. Perhaps for Fu Han, the only place in the world that could bring him to tears was by Ji Qingyu’s side.

He had expected Fu Han to quickly revert to his cold, arrogant, unyielding self, to become impeccable again, just like before—even his vulnerability meticulously calculated to soften Ji Qingyu’s heart.

But Fu Han was still crying. This grown man gripped his hand, his voice heavy with emotion. "I dreamed of you, with that exact expression, telling me to live my life well, saying we would never see each other again."

Ji Qingyu was mortified. *He* had never said that. Should words spoken in a dream be attributed to him? He hadn’t even held Fu Han accountable for what he did in reality!

Ji Qingyu couldn't help but smile faintly. His face was as pale as jade, his eyes fixed intently on Fu Han’s long, trembling eyelashes, on his reddened eye corners, and into the hazy air around them.

"Your surgery is over. Please don’t leave. Don’t be so resolute, don’t treat me like the person in my dream. Ji Qingyu, can we reconcile?" His fingers curled, tentatively brushing Ji Qingyu’s fingertips. "How can I remove that thorn from your heart?"

Ji Qingyu wanted to say, "No, we can’t," but as soon as the syllable "no" escaped his lips, he realized that if he spoke the full sentence, he might end up even sadder than Fu Han.

If life had an undo button, one that could erase all memories of Fu Han—good and bad—would he press it? Would he then live a peaceful life by a fish stall? Could he truly do it?

Ji Qingyu didn’t know. He lay with his eyes open, staring at the ceiling. The first twenty years of his life had been filled with too many illusory fantasies. Lin Ying had given him fantasies, Ji Ran had given him fantasies, and in the end, all those fantasies had been shattered.

Now, Fu Han was promising him forever again. Could he believe in such a fantasy? He didn’t know. He could only feel Fu Han’s scalding tears… Fu Han actually had tears too.

He couldn’t be discharged for several more days. Ji Qingyu was still wheeled around like a doll into various testing machines. The doctor and several assistants bustled about, checking him repeatedly, afraid of the slightest error.

A few days passed like this. On a warm, sunny afternoon, the doctor finally placed the latest report on Ji Qingyu’s bedside and announced, "Your hormone levels have stabilized and returned to normal. You can be discharged anytime now."

"A pregnant omega, who previously had surgery on his gland, actually managed to undergo surgery so smoothly and steadily, with such a quick recovery afterward. Mr. Ji, you are very lucky," the doctor said, pushing up his glasses. "Congratulations. From now on, your body will gradually recover. You won’t be as frail as you are now, looking like a strong wind could knock you over."

"Thank you, Doctor." *What does he mean, frail?* Ji Qingyu thought. He actually hadn’t been thin at all before. He had been stronger than many betas. His body would surely return to its original state eventually.

"However, I’ve always wanted to ask—why did you have surgery on your gland?" the doctor asked curiously. "Not many omegas undergo mark-removal surgery."

Ji Qingyu paused, momentarily stunned, recalling some unpleasant memories. His fingers curled slightly, and he pressed his lips together.

Fu Han happened to push the door open at that moment. He had been keeping watch over Ji Qingyu all night without sleep and had just gone out for a smoke. By chance, he overheard the latter part of the doctor’s question. He froze stiffly by the door, a rare look of tension flashing across his face, though he quickly masked it.

"Get out. Don’t pry into the patient’s privacy. You’re paid to do your job, not to chatter nonsense." Fu Han’s tone was cold and hard, his gaze indifferent, startling the doctor.

The doctor quickly realized he might have touched on something he shouldn’t have. He bowed repeatedly in apology, then silently and swiftly left.

"Aren’t you going to thank the doctor for his skill? Shouldn’t you at least be a bit more polite?" Ji Qingyu said softly, frowning. He disapproved of Fu Han’s behavior.

"The money I gave him is enough to buy this entire floor of the hospital," Fu Han said dismissively. He sat by the bed, pulled a fruit knife with a protective sheath from his trench coat pocket, picked up an apple from the bedside table, and began carefully peeling it.

With a few swift motions, a snow-white little rabbit took shape. Then Fu Han dipped the apple in warm water before handing it to Ji Qingyu, as if Ji Qingyu were some delicate greenhouse flower that would wither at the slightest neglect.

Ji Qingyu ate the apple from Fu Han’s hand, feeling an awkwardness he hadn't felt in a long time, his face flushing red.

Fu Han had removed all sharp objects, not even allowing Ji Qingyu to touch the fruit knife. So if he wanted to eat fruit, he had to let Fu Han peel it for him.

*This guy must have something wrong with him again.* Since returning from Jiangcheng, Ji Qingyu felt Fu Han had become overly sensitive. When it came to matters related to Ji Qingyu, he was authoritarian, questioning everything repeatedly, almost interrogating, before he could relax.

After eating the fruit, he felt too tired and lay down for a nap. When he woke up, he felt better and was finally able to be discharged. Fu Han pushed over a wheelchair covered with a thick blanket and moved to transfer Ji Qingyu into it. Ji Qingyu wrapped his arms around Fu Han’s neck, and Fu Han lifted him horizontally like a sloth. Fu Han’s strong hands supported Ji Qingyu’s knees and back. Ji Qingyu buried his head in Fu Han’s chest, and then he was swiftly and steadily settled into the wheelchair.

The physical contact brought a long-lost sense of familiarity. Warmth transmitted through their skin, and Ji Qingyu shivered.

Just that simple action left Ji Qingyu drenched in sweat. It seemed it would take quite some time to fully recover.

He hadn’t notified anyone about his discharge, but coincidentally, it was also the day Luo Sheng came for a check-up. Luo Sheng hurriedly bought a huge bouquet of flowers and shoved it into Ji Qingyu’s hands. "Xiao Yu, congratulations on the successful surgery."

"I’ll take that. His immune system is compromised now—be careful of pollen allergies," Fu Han said. Then, ignoring Ji Qingyu’s hopeful look, he took the bouquet and held it far away.

He started reminding Ji Qingyu of various small details. He had been talking too much lately. Ji Qingyu’s ears were tired of listening, so he responded half-heartedly, quietly closing his eyes and pretending to sleep in the wheelchair.

Luo Sheng looked at Fu Han somewhat helplessly and shook his head with a sigh. It was a clear, fine day. When they left the hospital, the sky was bright and the air fresh. Ji Qingyu took a deep breath of the fresh air, feeling as if he had been reborn.

After seeing them off, Luo Sheng waved goodbye. He hadn’t taken more than a few steps when he was suddenly stopped by an unexpected visitor. A tall, distant alpha stood before Luo Sheng, not looking like someone who had just happened to run into him.

Luo Sheng was blocked by Fu Yunbai. Fu Yunbai glanced at the medicine in Luo Sheng’s hand. Luo Sheng threw the entire bag of medicine right into Fu Yunbai’s face.

"Haunting me again…" Ji Qingyu heard Luo Sheng’s voice carry from afar, followed by, "Don’t follow me."

Fu Yunbai’s suit jacket was still immaculate, his hair perfectly combed, looking noble and proud. His gaze remained fixed on Luo Sheng’s retreating figure.

He bent down to pick up the medicine boxes, opening the packaging to carefully read the instructions. His secretary drove over, bowing to open the car door for him. There was a smudge of dirt on his trousers, and a few strands of hair had come loose from Luo Sheng’s assault. His grip on the medicine box tightened, and he got into the car expressionlessly before driving away.

"Uncle Luo looks really angry. Will they ever contact each other again?" Ji Qingyu asked.

"I doubt it," Fu Han said. "It’s better if Fu Yunbai stays away from Mom."

Ji Qingyu couldn’t help but laugh. He wanted to say something more but suddenly felt a chill all over. He abruptly covered his lower abdomen, curling up in the wheelchair. The heavy wool blanket slipped to the ground, and cold sweat dripped from his forehead.

Fu Han immediately crouched down, his breathing quickening. He covered Ji Qingyu’s hand with his own, his face suddenly pale. "What’s wrong? Are you okay?"

It took Ji Qingyu a while to recover. He stared blankly for a moment, his beautiful eyes meeting Fu Han’s. His reaction was slow, his tone filled with disbelief. "I think the baby just kicked me again."