DREB CHAPTER 93

As a fully grown Alpha with a large frame, Lu Lianning took up much more space on Li Yan’s small bed than Lu Zerui ever did, occupying over half of it.

Li Yan rose from the stool beside the bed and walked over, noticing how gentle Lu Lianning’s face appeared in the candlelight.

He seemed to be in a deep sleep. Feeling cold, Li Yan coughed into his hand, glancing at Lu Lianning, who remained asleep.

Li Yan nudged Lu Lianning inward, creating a small space, then curled up there, pulling the blanket halfway over himself.

But just then, Lu Lianning woke up.

Li Yan hadn’t yet closed his eyes, and his body froze. Even though Lu Lianning looked weakened and unthreatening, he still carried an imposing presence.

Lu Lianning squinted, clearly not fully awake.

Their eyes met, and Li Yan didn’t dare make a sound, unsure if asking Lu Lianning to leave would trigger another emotional outburst.

To his surprise, Lu Lianning’s expression was one of mild confusion, without excitement or fear.

He blinked, his eyelashes trembling, and asked, “You’re not dying this time?” His tone was filled with disbelief. He reached out, grasping Li Yan’s wrist, inspecting him closely.

Li Yan was baffled by his actions.

At that moment, Lu Lianning appeared strangely at ease. “You’re not dying in front of me this time. You’re even letting me touch you?” He seemed to consider reaching for Li Yan’s face, but before Li Yan could react, Lu Lianning pulled his hand back. “Never mind.”

Then he added, “Ever since I came looking for you, I rarely dream of you.”

Did he think he was dreaming?

Li Yan continued to observe his expression, his own face betraying no emotion.

He asked, “What did you dream of before?”

Lu Lianning replied, “I dreamed of you dying in front of me, lying in a pool of blood, telling me it was all my fault.” His face showed unmistakable pain as he looked at Li Yan and murmured, “Every time you stabbed the knife into yourself, it felt like you were killing me.”

Li Yan fell silent. He hadn’t realized how deeply this incident had cast a shadow over Lu Lianning for the past five years.

“Sometimes I wanted to see you, but other times, I was too afraid to sleep.” Lu Lianning looked up at Li Yan and unexpectedly added, “And today, this Li Yan not only lets me touch him but is even willing to talk to me.”

Seeing Li Yan lying beside him in the dim candlelight, Lu Lianning seemed happy, as if it were a dream sparked by a match flame.

He looked away, but he felt he wasn’t very good at talking and didn’t know what to chat about with Li Yan. So he asked the question he used to love asking Li Yan, “What did you eat today?”

Li Yan didn’t answer.

Still undeterred, Lu Lianning tried again, “What did you do today?”

These were the same questions he had always asked before they went to sleep when they lived together—repeated endlessly, day after day, without ever growing tired of it.

Back then, Li Yan had only seen it as Lu Lianning’s way of controlling him, probing into every detail of his life.

As Li Yan remained silent, Lu Lianning’s expression gradually stiffened.

But he had grown skilled at handling Li Yan’s indifference.

He asked, “Li Yan, do you really not want to see me at all?”

Li Yan didn’t answer the question, but something else came to mind. “What happened… to your glands…”

Lu Lianning frowned. “Didn’t you say you disliked the smell of my pheromones? I think it smells better now.”

Although he said “I think,” he anxiously watched Li Yan’s face, afraid of any hint of disgust.

Li Yan pressed, “What did you use to hurt it?”

After a moment, Lu Lianning replied, “A stone in front of your house.”

Rather than using the stone to carve something meaningful, he had scraped it against a rotten orange.

Li Yan thought he was hopeless and frowned. “Do you realize gland damage is irreversible?” This was sheer recklessness.

Lu Lianning’s tone was dismissive. “I know,” he replied, cautiously inching closer to Li Yan. “But is losing you reversible?”

Li Yan didn’t respond. A tightness filled his chest, pressing down with a stifling weight.

By now, Lu Lianning was very close, studying Li Yan carefully, and Li Yan didn’t move back because there was no room behind him.

Lu Lianning didn’t dare move any closer, stopping at that almost intimate distance, afraid that if he got any nearer, this dream would shatter.

Yet, even at this distance, he looked content.

Turning his head, he continued speaking to Li Yan, his voice low and his body still feverish, his breath warm. “Li Yan is hard to chase… really hard to please…”

“I never seem to learn.”

“Could you go a bit easier? Or at least give me a hint?”

Seeing Li Yan unmoved, Lu Lianning kept murmuring, “Li Yan, Li Yan, just a little, give me just a little…” as if he were speaking directly to him.

Give me a little love, give me a little love…

Under Lu Lianning’s gaze, filled with desperate, unhidden longing, Li Yan stayed silent for a long time. At last, with a hint of hesitation and uncertainty, he spoke clearly, “Alright.”

It was like every other time he’d compromised with fate, knowing he had little choice but unwilling to cross certain lines.

And so again, he said, “Alright.”

He waited, expecting Lu Lianning to respond.

But instead, Lu Lianning just froze, his expression stuck. After a moment’s pause, he let out a soft laugh.

He said, “Turns out this is a beautiful dream.”

Then he slowly closed his eyes in front of Li Yan. Perhaps the gland injury had taken more of a toll than he let on; he looked utterly drained.

The two of them were so close, and even in the dim light, the rare smile on Lu Lianning’s usually sullen face shone brightly.

For a moment, Li Yan found himself lost in thought, remembering Song Ruan.

He thought of how Song Ruan, though not even taken seriously by Lu Lianning, had remained captivated by his face.

 

The next morning, when Li Yan woke up, Lu Lianning was already gone.

He threw off the blanket, tidied up, and after a simple breakfast, headed out the door.

On his way back, he passed a clearance sale at a grocery store and noticed a large ball of soft, bright red yarn—a festive color.

So, he bought it, along with knitting needles, intending to make a scarf for Lu Zerui.

This fluffy red should suit his face well.

Since Lu Zerui wasn’t around, Li Yan made do with a simple meal and, with nothing else to do, started knitting the scarf. He made quick progress, figuring that if Lu Zerui came by this weekend, he could try it on.

But if he didn’t show up, so be it.

After all, the kid had been pretty upset the last time, even taking all his toys with him.

However, Lu Zerui did come by that weekend. As soon as he walked in, he started ordering food from Li Yan—rabbit-shaped buns, tangyuan[mfn]Tangyuan are sweet rice balls, often filled with fillings.[/mfn], stir-fried shrimp, and fish for dinner…

This time, he’d brought a model airplane with him. It had a large remote control, and the model itself was finely detailed.

Li Yan watched as Lu Zerui proudly showed off, flying the plane in circles around him. A little helpless, he worried the kid might break it.

Standing there, he told Lu Zerui that he had knitted a scarf for him.

Lu Zerui’s eyes widened in surprise, and he immediately lost interest in the plane he’d been holding. He set it aside and eagerly asked to see the scarf.

It was just a simple red fuzzy scarf with no fancy patterns.

Li Yan wrapped it around his neck, and after a quick check, found it was the perfect length.

Tilting his chin up, Lu Zerui refused to let Li Yan take it back.

With the scarf still wrapped around him, he picked up the plane and prepared to head out, probably off to play with the neighbors Er Niu and Niu Niu. Li Yan called after him, “It’s too warm for that scarf—the weather isn’t that cold…”

But Lu Zerui, feeling smug, responded, “Didn’t you say it was a gift? I want to wear it now. I’m not hot at all.”

He dashed out, ignoring Li Yan’s advice.

Not even half an hour later, the energetic boy returned, drenched in sweat. Taking off the scarf, he placed it on the table and announced he’d leave it there, telling Li Yan not to touch it.

Li Yan nearly laughed, pursing his lips as he went back to cooking.

What he didn’t expect was for Lu Lianning to show up at that moment. It seemed as though Lu Lianning was afraid of being seen by Lu Zerui, as Li Yan always kept him outside the door. That’s why Lu Lianning never appeared on weekends and would come at different times to avoid running into Lu Zerui.

He lingered by the doorway, watching Li Yan cook, and started up a casual conversation. “What are you making…”

Li Yan noticed that his feet were still outside the door, with half of his body leaning in as if he were about to step inside. Unable to bear the sight, Li Yan sighed. Glancing at Lu Lianning, he said, “Come in.”

Given permission, Lu Lianning stepped inside. His eyes went straight to the red scarf on the table.

This was definitely not a color Li Yan would pick for himself; he always leaned toward dark shades or muted grays.

With a raised eyebrow, Lu Lianning picked it up, swung it around a couple of times, and then wrapped it around his neck. His face lit up with excitement, as if he were being coy after receiving something nice. He tugged at Li Yan’s sleeve while he cooked. “It might be a bit short, but I really like it.”

Li Yan looked at Lu Lianning, who was wearing the red scarf and gazing at him with shining eyes. He even forgot to stir the food in the pan, his mouth slightly open in surprise.

At that exact moment, Lu Zerui burst back in. Seeing Lu Lianning wearing the scarf that Li Yan had made for him, he instantly threw a fit.

“That’s mine!” He charged at Lu Lianning like a little rooster ready to fight.

In that instant, cracks appeared in Lu Lianning’s expression. His eyes moved from Li Yan to Lu Zerui. With a stiff look, he slowly removed the scarf and placed it back on the table.

Feeling utterly dejected, he asked Li Yan, “So, you treat everyone kindly but treat me poorly?”