DREB CHAPTER 92

That night, Lu Zerui lay cradled in Li Yan’s arms as he patted his back and coaxed him to sleep. Even after he drifted off, his eyelashes remained wet with tears.

Li Yan gently placed him back on the bed and lay down beside him, gazing at Lu Zerui’s face, which looked so much like Lu Lianning’s.

Children are like this—their emotions come and go quickly. A moment before, he’d felt wronged, but after a good cry and some comforting, he fell asleep again, leaving Li Yan to toss and turn alone.

The next day, Lu Lianning came to pick him up. Lu Zerui packed his toys back into the sack, dragging it outside.

Li Yan followed behind, hesitant to say anything.

Seeing that Li Yan didn’t intend to stop him, Lu Zerui brushed aside the hand Li Yan reached out to help with.

When Lu Lianning got out of the car, he was met with Lu Zerui’s fierce expression and looked at him in confusion.

Li Yan trailed behind until Lu Zerui climbed into the car. Lu Lianning said, “It’s windy tonight. You should go back inside.”

Li Yan didn’t move until Lu Zerui rolled down the window. Then he walked over, leaned on the window, and asked, “Will you… will you come again next week?”

Lu Zerui tried to hide how happy he was; if he showed it, Li Yan might not keep trying to coax him. Like a little grown-up, he replied, “I’ll come if that’s your wish.”

Somehow, it had become Li Yan’s wish instead.

He watched as Lu Lianning drove away.

Returning alone to the courtyard, Li Yan looked at the once-again empty house, feeling no sense of relief after sending Lu Zerui off.

It was almost laughable. In less than a week, both father and son had taken turns telling him they forgave him, even though Li Yan had never actually apologized.

Recently, the temperature had dropped. Wujingwan Town, already known for its year-round rain, felt especially cold and damp.

Lu Lianning often appeared on rainy days. More and more frequently, he would stand by the door, talking to Li Yan, while Li Yan absentmindedly listened to the sound of rain.

Today was no different.

Although the rain was light, there was nothing left to eat in the house. Li Yan opened the door, planning to buy groceries, only to find Lu Lianning leaning against it, sliding inside and nearly falling onto him.

The heavy weight of an Alpha almost knocked Li Yan over.

Luckily, Lu Lianning stepped back just in time. He seemed somewhat out of it—had he fallen asleep there?

Li Yan was puzzled, noticing his tired expression, his pale face, and the dark circles that hinted at a lack of rest.

The rain continued to pour outside. Li Yan felt a twinge of sympathy as he watched Lu Lianning step back into the downpour. Unable to help himself, he called him back inside.

Lu Lianning rarely had the chance to enter Li Yan’s home, especially after hearing from Lu Zerui last week that Li Yan wanted to kick him out and had told him not to come back.

It was something Lu Lianning hadn’t anticipated. If Li Yan was so disgusted by their shared resemblance that he couldn’t even accept the innocent Lu Zerui, who had done nothing wrong, it seemed even more unlikely that he would accept Lu Lianning.

Sitting nervously on the stool inside Li Yan’s house, Lu Lianning cautiously relished this rare moment of soft-heartedness.

Li Yan said he was going out to buy groceries, then left, leaving Lu Lianning alone in the house.

He knew that even if he told Lu Lianning to go home, Lu Lianning likely wouldn’t listen.

He was always like that—only listening to himself.

Li Yan went out with an umbrella, though the rain had lightened. He bought some meat and fruit, and on returning to the yard, he set down the umbrella and bent to pick two small vegetables from the garden.

When he entered the house, he saw Lu Lianning standing there, holding a poster and looking completely bewildered.

Li Yan’s pupils contracted—it was the promotional poster for Shattered Window.

Hearing the door open, Lu Lianning dropped the poster with a soft thud. His breathing grew erratic as he licked his chapped lips, his body moving stiffly as he raised his arms to hug Li Yan.

Li Yan suddenly found himself wrapped in an embrace, groceries and vegetables still in his hands. Just as he was about to pull away, he heard Lu Lianning’s fragile, nervous voice.

“Li Yan… Li Yan…” he repeated, asking, “Is it true that precious things are hidden under the bed…” He remembered how Li Yan had once pushed the photo album he had brought home under his bed. He’d never expected to find a poster of himself in Li Yan’s house now.

He was desperate for confirmation but also terrified, as though Li Yan held his last hope.

“Is it true… Is it… Li Yan… are precious things hidden under the bed…” He held onto Li Yan’s thin frame, reluctant to let go yet too afraid to hold him too tightly.

Amid Lu Lianning’s repeated, fragile questions, Li Yan’s eyes fell on the poster.

Most of it was taken up by a field of sunflowers and the image of a young, beautiful painter.

His gaze lingered on that patch of gold, and in Lu Lianning’s burning embrace and endless questioning, Li Yan’s mind drifted, his expression distant.

He found himself lost in memories, transported to an afternoon that felt like many years ago.

The sun was shining brightly in the courtyard of the Lu house. A gentle breeze stirred, and Chonk napped lazily on a hanging orchid, paws tucked in.

Li Yan had been crouching in the garden, busy with something in his hands.

The butler walked by and asked, “Why do you always give so much water and fertilizer to the sunflowers?”

Suddenly, everything in Li Yan’s hands fell to the ground with a clatter.

The moment reminded him of when Lu Lianning had tormented him. Back then, he would call out Lu Lianning’s name repeatedly in a weak and pitiful tone, begging for mercy in that way.

Now, it was Lu Lianning calling his name the same way. Every way he knew how to soften someone’s heart—he had learned it from Li Yan.

Li Yan caught a familiar scent in the air, though it was slightly different now. It was the smell of citrus but with a hint of bitterness.

He sniffed, slowly turning his stiff neck. Beneath the collar of Lu Lianning’s turtleneck sweater, he noticed something at the back of his neck.

It wasn’t a blocker patch.

He stared, realizing it was a piece of gauze.

Only then did he sense that something was wrong.

Lu Lianning’s body felt too hot, and his breath on Li Yan’s neck was searing.

He had a fever!

Li Yan hurriedly pushed him away, his voice flustered. He guided him to the bed, almost running out the door as he said, “I’ll… I’ll call a doctor.”

Lu Lianning sat there in a daze, having been pushed aside by Li Yan. In the end, Li Yan hadn’t answered his question.

By the time he returned with the doctor, Lu Lianning had already curled up on the bed, fast asleep—or perhaps he had passed out from the fever. He looked unusually disheveled.

Li Yan approached, cautiously touching his forehead, then turned to the doctor. “His fever’s really high.”

The doctor came over with a medical kit, took out a thermometer, and checked the reading, his brow furrowing. It was an alarmingly high fever; something was off.

Seeing the doctor’s serious expression, Li Yan recalled what he had noticed earlier and mentioned it. “The… back of his neck seems injured…”

Li Yan tugged at the collar of Lu Lianning’s sweater, revealing the gauze beneath.

The doctor unwrapped it, examined the wound, and said, “The wound is deep. It looks like the glands are damaged, which is causing the fever.”

“The glands are damaged!?” Li Yan was stunned. For an Alpha like Lu Lianning, who could have hurt his glands?

“Can it heal?” Li Yan knew how vital the glands were for both Alphas and Omegas, almost like a second heart to them.

“It’s hard to say. Damage to the glands is usually irreversible. His pheromones may change as well…”

As the doctor spoke, he handed some medication to Li Yan, advising him to replace the gauze and apply the medicine once Lu Lianning woke up. He explained that the fever would naturally subside once the wound healed.

So… so the bitter orange scent he had noticed earlier hadn’t come from the rain or the soil. It was his pheromones beginning to turn bitter.

After the doctor left, Li Yan felt as if his legs could no longer support him. He sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought for half the night.

He wondered why he never asked “why.” Because once you ask the first “why,” it only leads to more.

He looked at Lu Lianning, lying there with uneven breaths, haggard and utterly exhausted.

He asked himself again: Was this what made him happy?

Wasn’t he supposed to feel grateful after clearing the 7.26 million debt? Wasn’t he supposed to hold no resentment? So why couldn’t he forgive?

Why could he accept all of life’s hardships calmly, yet refuse to accept that Lu Lianning was just another part of those hardships?

Why did he still harbor resentment?

Since childhood, Li Yan had worked tirelessly. He had been beaten by vandals, chased by loan sharks, and had almost begged on his knees to get the hospital to admit Chen Yaxin.

He never asked for anything and held no grudges.

But when it came to Lu Lianning, he wanted everything—7.26 million, freedom, dignity, the right to withhold forgiveness, to hate, to choose between life and death.

When Lu Lianning begged for his hatred, Li Yan gave kindness, strength, and compassion to others but reserved coldness and resentment for him alone.

Just as Lu Lianning asked, had Li Yan ever given him anything good?

Was it money easily earned by a rich man, or the wealthy people passing by who never lent a hand?

Did Li Yan really save Chen Yu? Did he really save that stray cat?

Chen Yu’s medical bills, monthly living expenses, the tall house built for the Chen family, every business expense, and the skinny stray cat that grew plump in less than a year on endless cans of fish and imported cat food…

Li Yan made the decisions, but Lu Lianning paid the bills?

How could he speak of gratitude yet still cling to hatred?

Was a compulsive liar capable of deceiving even himself?

Could Li Yan have truly saved Chen Yu?

Without Lu Lianning, the more likely outcome would have been Li Yan beaten to death by loan sharks on the street, while Chen Yu died in a hospital bed, unable to afford surgery.

Li Yan wasn’t one to dwell on or count his hardships, but when it came to Lu Lianning, he kept score—he kept a meticulous tally.

Lin Sheng was good, but his goodness wasn’t for Li Yan. Only the flawed Lu Lianning had truly grown with him.

There were countless kinds of goodness in the world, but none of them were meant for Li Yan. Only cold-hearted cruelty seemed to be what fate had arranged for him.

Was he really going to give all his resentment to Lu Lianning?

When Li Yan’s mother ran away when he was six, was it because of Lu Lianning? When his father died in a car accident at ten, was Lu Lianning driving? Did Lu Lianning cause his wife’s terminal illness?

Li Yan knew, deep down, that Lu Lianning was the only anomaly in the chain of misfortunes he had endured.

He was the one who had given Li Yan permission to hurt him, who asked for Li Yan’s hatred.

While Lu Lianning believed that Li Yan was cold-hearted and incapable of feeling any love for him, the truth was that Li Yan’s actions couldn’t withstand scrutiny.

If he truly hated him so much, why didn’t he run away? Why did he stay in Wujingwan Town, the very place where he had once been recaptured after escaping?

He could have gone far, couldn’t he?

He didn’t give Chen Yaxin a ring for five years, only to finally give her one after Lu Lianning returned.

He had cleared out his home countless times, yet somehow couldn’t bring himself to throw away that one poster.

Li Yan claimed that Lu Lianning wouldn’t let him go, but in truth, he had never let go of him either.

He refused to forgive yet refused to let go.