Chapter 19 Catharsis

Chapter 19 Catharsis

The panic and helplessness on Qiao Zhimian’s face gradually eased with the alpha’s gentle, affectionate voice and intimate nickname.

His anxious, fleeing heart slowly settled back into his chest, his turbulent emotions calming as he rested his dazed face against the man’s shoulder.

He wanted him to call him that again; he really liked it, yet he felt overwhelmed and began to wonder about the alpha’s intentions.

He just didn’t understand what was happening to him.

Ever since the alpha had looked at him so fervently earlier, something had felt a bit off.

Once Lian Yi was sure the omega was no longer tense, he cautiously began to ease back from the embrace. His large hand slid along the omega’s slender arm down to his small hand, gently holding and enveloping it, transferring warmth.

“Mian Mian,” he called.

Qiao Zhimian’s gaze trembled slightly, and he responded with a muffled “Mm.”

“The doctor said you have a chance to stand again,” Lian Yi’s tone was full of patience and encouragement as he spoke earnestly and sincerely. “Let’s keep trying, okay? We can’t give up hope, can we?”

The light in the omega’s eyes slowly faded.

He quietly lowered his head, making it difficult for the alpha to see his expression.

“I’ll stay with you, okay?” The boy’s silent, evasive demeanor made Lian Yi a bit anxious. He tightened his grip on his hand, steadying his trembling voice as he coaxed him, “We’ll do the rehabilitation properly. I’ll be with you every day. Give yourself a chance, and give me a chance to see you stand again, alright?”

After he spoke, the entire home fell into sudden silence.

The ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room became clear yet distant.

Outside, the cold wind and icy rain raged, sharply contrasting with the warmth inside.

As long as he didn’t go out, he could hide forever in this sanctuary, shielded from all the pain brought by danger.

Lian Yi felt uncertain. He couldn’t see the omega’s expression; his long, dense eyelashes fanned over his beautiful eyes like a small veil, and his pale pink lips were slightly pursed.

He waited intently for his response, or any reaction at all.

After a long while, Qiao Zhimian’s slender shoulders began to tremble lightly. His breathing grew heavy, unable to hold back any longer, and tears as big as beans fell like broken pearls, falling one after another.

It was as if the rain outside had flowed from his heart into the room.

He lifted his head silently, his wet eyes red and sorrowful as he looked at the alpha.

He took a deep breath, forcing out a choked sound from his throat with difficulty: “But… it… hurts…”

The kind of pain he couldn’t bear—the cold machines, the nerves tugging at his glands, hurting so much his whole body trembled.

When his family was with him, he endured it, breaking out in a sweat and gritting his teeth, not wanting them to worry. He would tell them he was fine with lips pale.

But he was really afraid of the pain.

Lian Yi stared at the omega, stunned.

All the sadness and bitterness suppressed deep in his heart surged out at once, spreading through every part of Qiao Zhimian’s being.

He began to sob heavily, though not quite wailing, pouring out his hurt to the alpha: “Senior, I’m so scared.” The man’s emotions swirled violently in his eyes as he pulled him back into his embrace. Burying his face in the reassuring hollow of his neck, the omega no longer held back, sobbing uncontrollably: “Lian Yi… it hurts so much, it really hurts, Lian Yi… I’m in so much pain, wuu… I really, really…”

His head spun as he let it all out, incoherently pouring out his grievances and sense of injustice, crying until he was disoriented.

He didn’t know if he was talking about the searing pain from the day of the accident or the pain of rehabilitation.

To him, everything he had experienced had blended together. He only knew the kind of physical and emotional agony that made it hard to breathe, the kind he didn’t dare recall—those dark, endless days.

Of course, he knew he shouldn’t just give up on himself, but it was so hard, too hard…

When he was alone, he had repeatedly pounded his own legs like a madman.

Why was there no sensation? Why couldn’t he stand? Why had he become disabled?

He also knew it was an accident, one that had turned his life into a tragedy, and that he couldn’t blame anyone.

But he still felt wronged—why did it have to happen to him?

He often fantasized about what if, back then, and even dreamed countless times of returning to before the accident, when he hadn’t yet graduated, when he was still in school, when he was well, when Lian Yi was well, when they were all well and together.

Rehabilitation was painful, and there was no improvement. Every attempt ended in failure, followed by countless letdowns.

He had to act cheerful and normal in front of his family, pretending it didn’t matter, not wanting them to see his fragility and worry endlessly for him.

They had already been heartbroken and pained for him countless times.

Lian Yi held the omega in his arms tightly, with a force that seemed as if he wanted to press him into his very bones and blood, yet afraid of hurting him, his fingertips unconsciously gentled, tenderly stroking his trembling back.

His breath also trembled along with Qiao Zhimian’s crying, his eyes growing hot and red.

Every word the boy said felt like a heavy hammer striking his heart, leaving him choked up and breathless.

In that moment, he was overwhelmed with the impulse to protect him forever, to ensure he would never experience any pain or injury again.

“I know, I understand, Mian Mian,” his lips brushed lovingly over the omega’s ear and hair. “I understand, I really do. I’m your alpha, I will protect you. Don’t be afraid, you don’t need to be afraid anymore.”

The omega buried his face deeply in the crook of his neck, his cries muffled, ebbing and flowing as he poured out all his grievances and resentment at once.

After holding back for so long, just as Qiao Baichen had said, emotional wounds require emotional healing.

Lian Yi took a deep, slow breath, picked up the fallen blanket nearby, and carefully wrapped the boy in the dry side. Then he lifted him and carried him to the sofa to sit down.

He was still a bit damp himself and worried that prolonged contact might make him uncomfortable.

Qiao Zhimian drowsily curled in the man’s arms, his soft cheek pressed against the blanket and resting against the alpha’s solid chest as he dazedly sobbed.

Clumps of tears still hung on his eyelashes, falling with the slightest tremble. His beautiful almond-shaped eyes held a clear spring, welling up and overflowing.

Lian Yi used his dry fingertips to gently wipe away the omega’s tears. His small face was flushed red from crying, and the alpha feared his rough fingers might scratch or hurt his tender, fair skin.

After a while, Qiao Zhimian gradually stopped crying. His slight body shook with occasional hiccups, leaving him somewhat exhausted.

The scent of green bamboo pheromones lingered around his nose, and the warmth of the man’s body temperature gradually calmed his heart.

“Mian Mian,” Lian Yi’s voice was slightly hoarse as he placed his palm on the back of the omega’s neck to comfort him. “Let’s listen to the doctor and try together, okay?”

The omega’s lips quivered, and tears began to well up in his eyes again. “No…” he mumbled dejectedly. “Just leave me alone.”

“I’m your husband,” Lian Yi’s heart melted as he gently stroked the reddened corner of Qiao Zhimian’s eye. “I’ll never leave you alone.”

Qiao Zhimian was slow to react, lifting his teary, blurry eyes to look up at him.

Lian Yi cradled his chin, leaning in to kiss his slightly swollen eyelids, then kissed his flushed nose and cheeks, before lightly grazing his soft lips.

“I’ll stay by your side. Whenever you go to the rehabilitation center, whenever you see the doctor, I’ll be right by your side, okay?”

Their breaths intertwined, warm and tender, filled with such care and affection.

Qiao Zhimian pursed his lips, his fine brows quivered faintly.

Even if Lian Yi’s concern was only out of a sense of duty, he still wanted to be more willful and indulgent in front of him.

“Wuu…” The omega nuzzled into the alpha’s palm and forehead, his voice mumbled as he pleaded, “Then you… you have to stay with me. Don’t leave me alone.”

“I will,” Lian Yi tightened his embrace, his heart bittersweet as he promised, “I’ll always be here. Always.”

Two hearts—one strong and steady, the other frail and faltering—thumped wildly against each other, separated only by a thin layer of fabric.

A warm, tender feeling began to grow...

Qiao Zhimian stared vacantly at the dark night outside the window and whispered, “Okay.”

They lingered in the living room, huddled together, for who knows how long.

Exhausted from crying, the omega began to drift off in the man’s arms, his head bobbing drowsily.

“Mianmian?” Lian Yi cupped his bobbing head and stood up, holding him securely.

Qiao Zhimian blinked sleepily, his voice groggy and nasal as he whimpered, “I’m a little sleepy…”

The alpha smiled fondly, glanced at the time, and realized how late it had gotten after everything that happened.

He carried the omega to the bedroom, but just as he was about to tuck him into bed, Qiao Zhimian suddenly stirred, wrapping his arms around Lian Yi’s neck and clinging to him, refusing to let go.

“What’s wrong?” Lian Yi paused, gently stroking the little head nestled against him. “Time to sleep, Mianmian.”

The omega murmured discontentedly, too sleepy to keep his eyes open but still unwilling to release his hold.

After a moment’s hesitation, Lian Yi straightened up again, resigned, and carried him to the bathroom. He ran a warm towel and gently wiped the tear-streaked face.

Only when Qiao Zhimian had fallen soundly asleep in his arms did Lian Yi carefully lay him down, tuck him in, and then head to take a shower and change.

Author's Note: