Thinking back to what Shang Sui had said about their first meeting, Shi Qi belatedly realized that it might not have been just a story, but might have actually happened.
Summer, a sea of flowers, a balcony with an easel—everything in the dream matched what Shang Sui had described.
But why had Shang Sui only mentioned it in passing, like a story, never bringing it up seriously?
When Shi Qi was in Qijiang, he was diagnosed with glandular degeneration and didn’t know he had once known an Alpha.
According to the memories from the dream, every time it was him secretly seeking out Shang Sui, Shi An and the others didn’t know, and wouldn’t have thought to connect anything to Shang Sui.
After the memory loss, he lost his phone, changed his number, so Shang Sui naturally had no way to reach him.
If that was really the case, did Shang Sui think… he didn’t want to see him again?
Given Shang Sui’s personality, it was indeed possible he chose not to disturb him anymore.
But the two of them in the dream had seemed so familiar. If it was just a temporary disconnection, would Shang Sui really have just given up?
Jiang Youning knocked from outside the room. “Xiao Qi, Shang Sui—are you awake? It’s about time to head out for lunch.”
Shi Qi replied softly.
His head was full of questions. Just then, Shang Sui’s phone lit up. Shi Qi asked casually, “Who is it?”
“Shen Qianyu.” Shang Sui glanced at the message. “He’s on his annual leave, also in Qijiang. He asked when I’m free to meet.”
Thinking of the complicated relationship between Shen Qianyu and Jiang Yan, Shang Sui added, “He basically never takes time off. He probably couldn’t hold it in any longer this time and needed to get out and clear his head.”
Back at the Ningshan Hospital, when Shen Qianyu had pointed out that the memory loss was due to glandular degeneration, Shi Qi hadn’t had time to ask about his relationship status. Now, hearing this, he leaned in with interest. “How are he and Jiang Yan doing?”
“Doesn’t seem great.” Shang Sui motioned for him to look at Jiang Yan’s Moments. “Jiang Yan has disappeared from the face of the earth.”
Jiang Yan had a playful personality, constantly updating his feed with all sorts of photos: deep-sea fishing, diving, skydiving, racing, attending all kinds of parties.
But for the past ten days or so, Jiang Yan’s Moments had been dead silent.
Shi Qi glanced at the date. The last update happened to be the day before Shen Qianyu’s rut began.
Shi Qi sincerely asked, “Is he still alive?”
Shang Sui: “Probably. If Shen Qianyu committed a crime, he’d let me know.”
Shi Qi: “……”
You two really are like brothers.
Shang Sui: “Besides, Shen Qianyu is soft-hearted. Rather than perish together in unrequited love, it’s more likely Jiang Yan is being held captive by him.”
Shi Qi: “?”
Do you have a misunderstanding of what ‘soft-hearted’ means?
“If that really did happen, Jiang Yan could deal with it easily—just have his family put pressure on him. All in all, it would be considered voluntary.”
Shang Sui said this string of outrageous things with a completely calm expression. Shi Qi found himself going along with him and for a moment, felt like being held captive wasn’t such a big deal.
Still, Shen Qianyu was highly professional; Shang Sui to this day still had no idea he had glandular degeneration.
Thinking of this, Shi Qi once again wondered silently: Could everything in the dream just be hallucinations brought on by the medication?
Very quickly, a voice in his mind refuted: No.
Such vivid scenes, such vibrant emotions, the rhythm of a heart beating in sync with bursting fireworks—it was a moment of happiness and joy so intense that all worries were forgotten. It didn’t feel like a fabricated dream.
His medication course lasted one week; in about a month, all his memories would return.
He wasn’t sure what had ultimately happened, nor did he know if bringing it up abruptly would make Shang Sui upset. So for now, Shi Qi kept it to himself.
He’d wait until he remembered more, until he had a clearer picture, and then talk to Shang Sui.
The thought that they might have been separated for six years left Shi Qi with complicated feelings. As they headed downstairs, he reached out and took Shang Sui’s hand.
Shang Sui thought Shi Qi simply wanted to hold hands, but very quickly, he caught the clear and pure scent of lily of the valley, as if a cluster of soft flowers had wrapped around his wrist.
Through physical contact, Shi Qi had left a trace of his pheromones on him.
Shang Sui knowingly asked, “What did you just sneakily do?”
“Marked you,” Shi Qi said coolly, thinking of the dream. “So you won’t get lost.”
Marked means mine.
If he’d lost him once, he wouldn’t lose him a second time.
Just then, Shi An happened to walk by and heard Shi Qi’s words, his expression turning indescribable.
He had rarely heard of an Omega marking an Alpha, but naturally, Shang Sui played along. “Can we do this every day? Your pheromones smell amazing.”
“That depends on my mood.”
Though Shi Qi appeared indifferent, knowing him well, Shi An could tell he was enjoying it immensely.
Unconsciously, his gaze drifted to Shang Sui. The latter was smiling at Shi Qi and even gave their clasped hands a shake, as if acting cute.
So this was how he’d won Shi Qi over?
Truly…
Along the way, Shi An stared worriedly at Shi Qi. Finally, Jiang Youning couldn’t hold back. “Why do you look like you’re watching a doomed emperor?”
“I think your brother’s soul is about to get snatched,” Shi An muttered. “Ever since he woke up, he’s been staring at that person like he can’t get enough.”
“How long have they been together, and he still likes him this much?”
Jiang Youning was not surprised at all, and instead was in the mood to tease. “Then tell me, who do you think our family’s face-obsessed genes came from?”
“Definitely not me.” Shi An paused for a moment. “Inner beauty is what matters most.”
“Yes, yes. You only fell for my dad because of his beautiful soul. His looks and everything else had absolutely nothing to do with it.”
Shi An shot her a glare and fell silent.
While Shi Qi was still asleep, Shi An had already booked a restaurant. From the semi-private booth, they could see a small bridge and running water in the courtyard outside.
Jiang Youning’s gaze swept over the floating lanterns on the water, and she suddenly remembered something. “The last time I came to Qijiang, the memory was pretty traumatic.”
“I confessed to Li Zhao, full of hope, but she told me she was going abroad, probably for good, and wouldn’t be able to stay in touch.”
“She just met me that once to say it to my face and make a clean break.”
Jiang Li interjected, “Was that during the Thousand Lantern Festival?”
Shi An also recalled, “Youning cried the whole way back that day, and her eyes were swollen when we got home.”
Shi Qi caught the key phrase. “Thousand Lantern Festival?”
Even though he had already formed a rough idea before, this moment gave him a sense of “so it really was true.”
Until today, he hadn’t known that Qijiang had a Lantern Festival, or that Jiang Youning had arranged to meet Li Zhao on the day of the festival.
One by one, dream and reality aligned. Shi Qi could finally be certain that these were real memories.
Instinctively, he turned to the person beside him.
Shang Sui said nothing, his eyes slightly lowered.
“You might not remember, after all…”
Jiang Youning cast a discreet glance at Shang Sui, unsure whether he knew about Shi Qi’s glandular degeneration. In the end, she chose not to continue.
She sighed, “That last trip to Qijiang really was full of trouble.”
Shang Sui’s hand tightened imperceptibly around his chopsticks, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts.
Maybe some of that “trouble” Jiang Youning talked about was partly his doing.
“But see, that’s why I say, don’t speak too soon.” Jiang Youning, unaware of Shang Sui’s reaction, changed the subject happily, “After all the twists and turns, Li Zhao still ended up with me three years later.”
“Oh right, Li Zhao’s mentor’s funeral has mostly been taken care of, and she’ll be coming over next week too.”
Jiang Youning could talk about Li Zhao for three days and nights. From Li Zhao’s current situation to the artists she admired, the conversation gradually drifted to Shang Sui.
Seizing the opportunity, Shi An asked, “You’re working as a teaching assistant at the art academy now?”
Shang Sui nodded. “Once Xiao Qi graduates, I probably won’t stay at the academy.”
Sensing what Shi An might be thinking, he added, “Wherever Xiao Qi wants to be, I can go too.”
Without needing to be asked, Shang Sui had already made it clear he’d go wherever Shi Qi went. Shi An felt pleased and casually asked, “Did you grow up in the capital too?”
“No,” Shang Sui said. “Haicheng.”
Shi An went on to ask a series of questions, which Shang Sui answered one by one.
Shi Qi occasionally chimed in, saying a word or two to prevent Shi An from digging too deep and directly asking about Shang Sui’s special rut right there at the table.
Whenever the conversation veered toward danger, Jiang Li and Jiang Youning would jump in to smooth things over. All in all, the meal passed with a pleasant atmosphere.
Just before parting, Shi An tugged at Shi Qi. “You’re sleeping with me tonight.”
“?” Shi Qi said with a puzzled look, “I’m not a kid anymore. Why would I still sleep with you?”
Shi An said nothing, only stared silently at the two of them.
Shang Sui understood that Shi An didn’t want him running off with Shi Qi on the very first night. He spoke up at the right moment. “My parents will also be coming to Qijiang for vacation soon. Would you like to meet them?”
When Shi An nodded, Shang Sui agreed and naturally said goodbye. “Then I’ll head out first.”
Shi Qi followed smoothly. “I’ll go with him.”
Ever since confirming they had been separated for six years, Shi Qi had been in a complicated mood. Fragmented memories occasionally flickered through his mind. The seemingly beautiful images, when laid against the fact of their long separation, made him all the more unwilling to part from Shang Sui again.
Shi An coughed.
Shi Qi pretended not to hear and made a move to grab Shang Sui’s wrist.
“Xiao Qi.” Shi An looked at his reluctant expression and smiled as he emphasized, “Dad has something to talk to you about tonight.”
Shi Qi glanced at one, then the other. Shang Sui gave him a subtle look, signaling him to listen to Shi An.
Since waking up that evening, Shi Qi had been especially clingy.
Usually, Shi Qi liked physical closeness and preferred to stay near Shang Sui at home, but only when it was just the two of them. When others were around, he generally behaved with restraint.
But now… Shi Qi seemed suddenly provoked by something.
Shang Sui found it odd, though he couldn’t pinpoint the reason. He simply made a mental note of it.
Seeing Shi An’s firm stance, Shi Qi could only let go of Shang Sui’s hand.
Before parting, he looked into Shang Sui’s eyes. “Bye. See you tomorrow.”
If possible, see you in my dreams.
“Xiao Qi.”
A voice called out behind him. Shi Qi turned around.
At the final moment, ignoring the presence of others, Shang Sui took a step forward and placed a brief, affectionate kiss on Shi Qi’s cheek.
Beside them, Jiang Youning gave a “Wow!” and said enthusiastically, “Now that’s more like it!”
With their foreheads together, Shang Sui asked gently, “Why were you looking at me like that?”
“…”
Shang Sui didn’t seem to need a real answer. He stepped back, his tone somewhere between a goodbye and a promise, “See you tomorrow.”
–
Back at the rented villa, Shi Qi’s mind was full of the scene from their goodbye.
He had been completely unprepared. His first reaction was to turn his head away, and thankfully, Shi An’s expression only changed slightly and he ultimately said nothing.
Shi Qi couldn’t help but touch his own cheek.
The soft sensation still seemed to linger on his skin, and he smiled faintly, eyes curving.
After his shower, Shi Qi lay on the bed, wondering what Shi An wanted to say to him.
It had been a while since he last slept with Shi An. Back when he was first diagnosed with glandular degeneration, they often slept together. He couldn’t sleep through the night after returning from the hospital, but lying beside Shi An had made him feel safe, and for a while, it even cured his insomnia.
When Shi An finished washing up and came to the bedside, he saw Shi Qi lying silently on one side and chuckled. “Why are you all the way over there?”
“Didn’t you use to want me to stroke you before bed when you were little?”
Shi Qi asked in surprise, “How do you know that?”
He was certain he had never told Shi An.
Shi An turned off the light and lay down beside him. “You think I don’t know you?”
Recalling Shi Qi’s subtle expression changes at the dinner table, Shi An asked in the dark, “Does Shang Sui know you have glandular degeneration?”
When Shi Qi said nothing, Shi An sighed. “Why haven’t you told him?”
“I want to wait for the right moment. I don’t want to bring it up out of nowhere,” Shi Qi said slowly. “Bringing it up suddenly feels like I’m forcing him, and also forcing myself.”
A permanent mark was practically equivalent to marriage. Before Shang Sui appeared, Shi Qi had already prepared to live out his life alone, and he had never considered forming an intimate relationship, let alone marriage.
“Force him?” Shi An sneered. “It’s one thing if you haven’t thought it through yourself, but do you really think he doesn’t want this? He’s the one getting the good end of the deal.”
“If it weren’t for the fact that you needed an Alpha to help treat your condition, there’s no way he’d get to marry you so easily.”
Shi Qi retorted, “But Shang Sui isn’t exactly lacking, is he?”
He expected Shi An to disagree, but surprisingly, Shi An uncharacteristically said, “Objectively speaking, he’s indeed excellent.”
From appearance to personality, personal ability to family background… After tonight’s interaction, he had to admit that Shang Sui was quite impressive across the board.
“But you and Youning are my babies. No matter who you end up with, I’ll always feel like the other person is the lucky one.” Thinking of the way Jiang Youning’s eyes had sparkled when she mentioned Li Zhao, Shi An paused for a moment. “As for Jiang Youning, she’s been enjoying the ride since her teens. And she’s an Alpha.”
“I didn’t expect you to act the same way when in love.”
At that, Shi An couldn’t help but poke Shi Qi on the forehead.
Shi Qi’s eyes resembled Shi An’s the most—both slightly upturned at the corners, with irises that were round and bright.
As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, Shi Qi became aware that Shi An had been watching him. After a moment of hesitation, he slowly leaned in closer.
Shi An smiled and pulled him into his arms.
Back when Shi Qi was diagnosed with glandular degeneration, he’d still been a teenager much shorter than Shi An. Now, they were nearly the same height.
“Go to sleep, Xiao Qi.”
“If you want to let things unfold naturally, then we’ll wait a little longer.”
Thinking he might regain more memories while sleeping, Shi Qi was filled with anticipation and gradually closed his eyes in Shi An’s arms.
As if responding to his hopes, soon after he drifted off, a sky filled with gathering storm clouds appeared before him.
He was becoming more adept at navigating these memory-laden dreams and quickly realized he had once again returned to that summer six years ago.
From their rented home, there was a sightseeing bus to the mountains. In the dream, he sat watching the scenery outside the window. Though the sky was dark, his mood was cheerful.
Just then, his phone rang.
“I was knocking on your door just now and no one answered. That’s when I realized you weren’t home. I asked Youning, but she thought you were still in your room.” On the other end, a younger Shi An spoke quickly. “Where did you go? There’s going to be a thunderstorm soon.”
Shi Qi hadn’t expected Shi An and Jiang Li to return home early. “I went to see a friend.”
Shi An sounded surprised. “You have a friend in Qijiang? How come you’ve never mentioned them before?”
Fu Siyue’s family was vacationing in Qijiang and had always wanted to meet Shi Qi, but Shi Qi couldn’t be bothered to deal with him, and he’d only seen them once at a family gathering.
“I’ll tell you about it later.”
Thinking he had probably made a new friend in Qijiang, Shi An still felt a bit uneasy, but said, “Then when will you be home?”
Shi Qi had checked the weather forecast before going out. There was a thunderstorm expected tonight.
Shang Sui didn’t like stormy weather. Originally, Shi Qi thought that since Shi An and Jiang Li wouldn’t be home, and he could ask Jiang Youning to help cover for him, he’d sneak out and spend the night with Shang Sui. But now, it seemed he had no choice but to go back obediently.
He felt a little disappointed. Not wanting Shi An to worry, he reported a time he knew the other could accept, “Around dinnertime.”
As expected, Shi An relaxed. “Have fun, Xiao Qi.”
“Don’t get caught in the rain, come home early.”
The weather changed faster than expected. As Shi Qi stepped off the bus, a dull rumble of thunder rolled in from the distance. A heavy downpour was imminent.
He quickened his pace, making his way through the path lined with blooming flowers.
Though it was still afternoon, the sky had darkened like nightfall.
Shi Qi saw his younger self navigate the Endless Summer hydrangeas with practiced ease, climbing onto the balcony just as the rain began to fall.
Unlike usual, Shang Sui wasn’t painting on the balcony.
The Alpha sat on the bed, seemingly weighed down by the sudden storm, silently gazing out the window.
The sight struck a pang in Shi Qi’s heart, like seeing a beautiful yet withering plant.
As soon as Shang Sui saw him, he blinked, and his eyes began to move slowly, and his once blank expression started to come alive, like a tree waking up in spring.
Shang Sui got out of bed and took a step toward him.
Ever since that confession during the Thousand Lantern Festival, Shi Qi knew Shang Sui was a rich young master on vacation, and the guards at the house were bodyguards arranged by his family. Shi Qi no longer had to sneak around to see him, and could come in through the front door openly.
But climbing through the window had become a habit after over a month. And sometimes, when he appeared suddenly, Shang Sui would show a surprised expression. Shi Qi found it amusing, and he had never once used the front door.
“Were you waiting for me?” He realized Shang Sui had been staring out the window, very likely waiting for him. “Why didn’t you message me?”
Before Shang Sui could respond, Shi Qi continued, “But I can’t stay over tonight. My family came home early—”
Suddenly, a fierce gust of wind swept down from above. The previously stable easel wobbled and, with a cracking sound under the strain, collapsed directly toward Shi Qi!
At the critical moment, Shang Sui moved first, shielding Shi Qi from the falling easel with his own body, while using his other hand to pull him inside the room.
The heavy walnut easel was shoved aside, toppling from the second floor and landing in the garden below with a deep thud.
Shi Qi instinctively turned his head to look.
“No need to worry about it.”
Shang Sui spoke his first words.
Only then did Shi Qi notice the flush at the corners of his eyes and the hazy look on his face—he didn’t seem entirely lucid.
“Your hand…”
When he had pushed the easel away just now, Shang Sui’s arm had been gashed open, the wound bleeding, the skin peeled back. But as if nothing had happened, he simply reached for a clean bath towel from the side.
The soft cotton fabric carried a dry scent of herbs and wood. Wrapped inside it, Shi Qi gave his head a shake, trying to fling off the rainwater on his hair.
This childlike motion made Shang Sui’s gaze pause. As if unaware of his pain, he gently and meticulously helped dry Shi Qi’s hair.
Worried about his injury, Shi Qi couldn’t help but glance at his wounded arm, and was immediately struck by the sweet pheromones in the blood.
Shang Sui had said he might be undergoing differentiation soon, which explained why he could smell pheromones. Betas weren’t sensitive to them. He was either differentiating into an Alpha or an Omega.
The once faint honey scent had become rich and sweet, as though the entire room were soaked in a jar of honey. The invisible pressure made it hard not to breathe slower.
Such a high concentration of pheromones clearly wasn’t caused by a single wound.
Shi Qi finally sensed something was off. “Are you in a rut?”
Shang Sui didn’t answer but instead stopped moving. When Shi Qi met his heavy gaze, his heart gave a sudden jolt.
The Alpha stretched out his arms and hugged Shi Qi through the towel.
“I thought you weren’t coming.”
His rut had always been irregular. He’d just gotten through one at the start of May. He’d assumed the next wouldn’t come until at least the second half of the year. But this time, it had arrived early, as if triggered by something.
Before losing consciousness, he’d thrown his phone into some corner.
Not contacting Shi Qi during the rut was likely the furthest his rational mind had managed to go.
The air carried the unique scent that precedes a thunderstorm. Even in his unclear state, the hot and humid weather instinctively irritated Shang Sui.
Guessing that Shi Qi probably wouldn’t come today, he’d aimlessly stared at the balcony, imagining that cat-like boy sitting there, raising his eyes to meet his gaze.
He’d been lost in his own fantasy until dusk fell and the familiar sound came suddenly from outside the window.
“Did you come see me because of the thunderstorm?”
Whether it was from the slightly hoarse voice brushing past his ear or the breath against his neck, Shi Qi’s body trembled subtly, and he agreed with an unsteady sound.
“So thoughtful.” Different from his usually aloof demeanor, Shang Sui now wore a smile and spoke with an exceptionally gentle tone. “You’re so good to me.”
As if unaware of Shi Qi’s nervousness, Shang Sui leaned closer, quietly inhaling his scent.
No unpleasant smell of rain or pheromones, just a clean scent that was uniquely Shi Qi’s.
His teeth ached with anticipation, desperate to bite down and leave a mark of his own.
Shi Qi looked at him blankly.
What was Shang Sui trying to do?
The Alpha lowered his head, leaning in toward the smooth skin of his neck—
Shi Qi instinctively moved back, but Shang Sui’s arms tightened around him. The same arms that had brushed the rain off him earlier now became a cage.
The overwhelming pressure left him unable to move. The Alpha before him finally tore away his gentle facade, revealing the dark and obsessive side underneath.
Was Shang Sui trying to bite his neck?
But he hadn’t even differentiated yet, so there were no pheromones in his glands. Biting him would be useless.
Cool strands of hair brushed against the back of his neck, and a sudden jolt of pain shot through him.
Thinking of how Jiang Youning had clung to him, sobbing uncontrollably during her rut, Shi Qi figured Shang Sui must be in just as much pain now. He stifled a groan.
If it were anyone else, he would have shoved them away without hesitation and landed a solid kick for good measure.
But the moment he thought it was Shang Sui…
Shi Qi’s fingers curled into fists. Fine, let him bite. Just bear with it.
But something felt wrong almost immediately.
Shang Sui hadn’t even touched him, yet the pain at the back of his neck was only growing worse.
The burning pain wiped Shi Qi’s mind completely blank. Even the sound of the door slamming open became muffled, and the urgent voices of the bodyguards came through like they were speaking from behind frosted glass.
“Are you all right? We saw the easel fall!”
The Alpha was like a beast whose territory had been invaded, so different from the gentle look he’d worn just moments ago while facing Shi Qi.
Shang Sui gave a quiet grunt. “So noisy.”
His pheromones spun completely out of control, slamming down like a tidal wave on the bodyguards who had just rushed in!
In the past, he had never deliberately suppressed his pheromones during ruts. But this time, it was as if he was waiting for something, hiding the change in himself as much as he could.
Completely unprepared, the youngest bodyguard’s knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor.
Alphas could dominate other genders through pheromones. To avoid being affected, the bodyguards sent by Yu Wan were all Beta. In theory, Betas should barely register any pheromone influence. And yet here they were, crushed to the point they couldn’t even lift their heads.
Shang Sui found their presence intolerable and ordered coldly, “Get out.”
The bodyguards backed away like puppets yanked on strings, retreating with mechanical movements.
It was the young bodyguard’s first time witnessing him lose control, and his eyes filled with unmistakable fear.
Being mentally controlled was a chilling sensation. And because they had interrupted him, Shang Sui manipulated them especially roughly, as though the command overriding personal will had been forcibly carved into their brains.
How could such an illogical existence even be real?
He was a monster.
And yet the person held in his arms trembled and grabbed his wrist at that moment, speaking in a muffled voice, “Shang Sui, it really hurts…”
The Alpha, who had been in a state of losing control, froze for a moment and lowered his head upon hearing those words.
The strange mental control vanished without warning, and their bodies regained the right to move. The most experienced bodyguard captain seized the opportunity and rushed forward immediately.
Before heading upstairs, he’d grabbed a tranquilizer just in case. He hadn’t expected to actually use it.
Moving fast, he plunged the syringe into the back of Shang Sui’s neck. He’d braced himself to be attacked or even get injured, but Shang Sui didn’t move an inch.
He belatedly realized that Shang Sui’s attention was entirely on the boy in his arms.
“What’s wrong? Where does it hurt…?”
The fast-acting tranquilizer made Shang Sui dizzy, and he didn’t have time to get a clear answer.
The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was Shi Qi clutching the back of his neck, his face twisted slightly from the pain.
As Shang Sui slipped into unconsciousness, the bodyguards turned to look at Shi Qi, whose expression was one of stunned disbelief.
They obeyed all of Shang Sui’s commands, except one: no one could be allowed to discover Shang Sui’s abnormalities.
Not even this boy who held a special relationship with him.
“Apologies, but please leave at once.”
“What happened to him?” Shi Qi’s forehead was covered with cold sweat, but he still insisted, “Why are you doing this? Is it because of his rut?”
Shang Sui’s ruts had gradually stabilized with age, but today, he was completely out of character, even showing strong aggression.
If Shang Sui were to lose control again, the consequences would be unimaginable.
His special rut and his mental manipulation were classified secrets. Taking advantage of Shi Qi’s limited knowledge, the bodyguard sidestepped the truth and repeated, “Your presence may continue to agitate him. Please leave immediately.”
Outside, the storm raged louder and louder. While speaking, the bodyguard already contacted the driver to pick up Shi Qi.
Noticing Shi Qi still clutching the back of his neck, blood staining the towel, he frowned. “You’re injured? Should we take you to the hospital?”
Pain throbbed from Shi Qi’s glands in waves, like being bitten by thousands of ants. He forced himself to stay alert. “N-No, just take me home.”
“It’s not my blood, it’s his.” Shi Qi reminded before leaving, “Don’t forget to treat the wound on his arm.”
Everyone else was preoccupied with stabilizing Shang Sui. The tranquilizer would only be effective for a short time. If he woke up again, there was no telling how he might react.
They needed to inform Yu Wan, contact a doctor, and request more security immediately.
Overwhelmed, the bodyguard could only agree. “Understood. If anything happens, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”
An Alpha’s rut typically lasted three to four days. It would be better to check on Shang Sui again in a few days.
Besides, something felt off with Shi Qi, too…
Clutching the back of his burning neck, Shi Qi followed the driver to the car.
The driver didn’t leave until he had delivered Shi Qi to the doorstep and confirmed that someone inside the villa had come to receive him.
Almost as soon as Shi Qi raised his hand to knock, Shi An yanked the door open.
The moment he saw him, Shi An exclaimed with a mix of shock and relief, “Where have you been? Shi Qi!”
“Your phone’s been unreachable! Jiang Li and Jiang Youning both went out looking for you. I was this close to calling the police!”
Only then did Shi Qi realize he must have lost his phone in the chaos earlier.
Noticing his flushed face, Shi An quickly pulled him inside, cupping his face with both hands. “Your face is so red. What happened?”
“I…”
Shi Qi opened his mouth, but an unprecedented sharp pain shot from his glands.
His vision went black, and he completely lost consciousness.
Author’s note:
Here comes the woman who wrote 7,500 characters despite having COVID
(It did take three days though
