Translator: Abo Dammen
Without a doubt, Jiang Yunsu would have remembered Qin Zhongnan’s face if he were still alive today. After all, flamboyant alpha males who routinely wore gold-rimmed, wire-framed spectacles were a rarity.
It happened about a year ago at a party. Qin Shibei, Tianfeng Group’s eldest alpha daughter, went on a business trip. Second son Qin Zhongnan was obliged to go, and there he met the recently popular genius designer.
His dark eyes, which were centered on Jiang Yunsu, who was smiling gracefully and tactfully in the crowd, glowed as he swirled the wine glass in his hand. People around Qin Zhongnan were complimenting Jiang Yunsu on his etiquette and skills and expertise. In addition, he overheard several omegas boasting about how envious they were of the omega who had married Jiang Yunsu because of the rumors that circulated about how well Jiang Yunsu treated his wife.
Qin Zhongnan was a psychiatrist, however. A subtle expression of contempt and disgust flashed across Jiang Yunsu’s eyes every time he turned around, but at the time he had written it off as a quirk of his personality that catered into his arrogance. He was, after all, an artist.
Who knew that the voice of tonight’s protagonist would greet him as he entered the bathroom during the first half of the party? The voice inside the cubicle was proud, full of malice, and laced with numerous obscene and profane words, in stark contradiction to the cheerful and soothing tone he had represented outside.
“Fuck, poke the broom handle in a little deeper.”
“It hurts? Push it in. Is that all you’ve got?”
“Do you want to die when I get home, bitch?”
With a frown, Qin Zhongnan retreated.
Jiang Yunsu came over to toast a drink not long after the start of the second half. “Mr. Qin, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Indeed, you are a man with very striking characteristics.”
His voice returned to its previous state. The lines at Qin Zhongnan’s mouth twitched slightly. He despised these two-faced alphas the most. Inconveniently, the secretary next to him tugged at him just as he was about to leave, forcing him to lift his glass. “Oh.”
Within a fraction of a second, he witnessed the telltale twitch of disdain and disgust on Jiang Yunsu’s forehead.
“But yesterday, his facial expressions showed no signs of impatience, as far as I could tell.” Qin Zhongnan lay down on Zhou Zhaoyu’s lap, noting, “Say, if it’s pretending, then for two hours there was not a single flaw. Even experienced soldiers struggle to accomplish that.”
There was a noticeable change in Jiang Yunsu’s speech pattern from the previous version to the one he interacted with yesterday. His speech pattern was monotonous; there were no peaks or valleys in his voice, but it conveyed a sense of calm and kindness.
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“Ai~” Qin Zhongnan grabbed his hand again and pecked the omega’s thin pale wrist. “Anyway, Jiang Yunsu was declared brain-dead by the doctor before he lost his memory, but he miraculously recovered after half a month, shocking the medical community.”
Even though Zhou Zhaoyu wasn’t a doctor at the hospital, he frowned when Qin Zhongnan told him so. “It’s him? How could someone come back from being brain-dead?”
A brain-death diagnosis is the medical equivalent of a death sentence in a court of law. At least two licensed doctors with extensive clinical experience would render a decision, and only when they agreed could the patient’s condition be evaluated as brain death. It was extremely circumspect.
Qin Zhongnan finally released Zhou Zhaoyu’s scarlet wrist. He cocked an eyebrow at Zhou Zhaoyu and said, “The statement given by the hospital at that time was that the doctors’ judgment was wrong, otherwise there’ll be no other explanation.”
Zhou Zhaoyu paused typing and returned his gaze to Qin Zhongnan, lost in thought.
▪︎•°°•▪︎
Bai Tang spent four days in the hospital. Zhou Zhaoyu would regularly visit Bai Tang in the hospital at 3 o’clock in the afternoons to offer him counselling.
“Bai Tang likes small animals. You can try putting him in touch with one.” Zhou Zhaoyu was fixated on Jiang Yunshu’s expression. “But he’s afraid you’ll kill all the small animals.”
Jiang Yunshu immediately frowned and stated solemnly, “I won’t.”
Zhou Zhaoyu was unfazed. He drew his gaze back and said, noncommittally, “Hopefully. In this situation, I am merely a supporting character. You hold the key to overcoming Bai Tang’s fear.”
“Thank you,” said Jiang Yunshu.
This time, Zhou Zhaoyu didn’t even bother to say, “I’m just helping the omega,” and simply left. After all, his capacity as an omeganist to communicate with an alpha like Jiang Yunsu was limited to a minimum of words.
Unexpectedly, Zhou Zhaoyu abruptly paused and called out, “Jiang Yunsu!”
Without hesitation, Jiang Yunshu spun around. “Is there anything else, Professor Zhou?” Due to the similarity of their names, he frequently responded immediately when the first two names were called, saving him time in getting used to other people’s names.
“No,” said Zhou Zhaoyu, woodenly. “It’s nothing.”
As Jiang Yunshu watched Zhou Zhaoyu leave, he felt for a brief second that Zhou Zhaoyu had seen right through him. Sure enough, he still didn’t like dealing with psychiatrists, whether it was now or before.
The ward’s door featured a small, see-through window that allowed medical staff easy access to check on their patients. After meeting Zhou Zhaoyu, Jiang Yunshu found Bai Tang to be in a cheerful mood. He sat on the edge of the hospital bed, his two skinny, straight calves dangling and swinging as he watched the scenery outside the window.
Bai Tang had so little time to be happy that Jiang Yunshu’s hand that was about to knock on the door came to a halt. He flipped around, sat down in the chair next to him, and started reading the book [Radiation Oncology].
Seven years had passed since he had taken the postgraduate entrance exam. Despite his extensive clinical experience, he had to relearn all of the theoretical operations, and the concepts had to be memorized verbatim. The man in his thirties then made it a habit, after waking up, to head out onto the balcony and recite a list of fifty English words in order to warm up his brain.
But, fortunately, memorizing was Jiang Yunshu’s easiest, most effortless, and least stressful task.
And, if he wanted to resume his old profession as soon as possible, he had to be admitted to the 2nd Star’s top-ranked medical school and graduate early.
Bai Tang was captivated by a butterfly outside the window when he heard a sound coming from the direction of the nightstand. Jiang Yunsu bought him a mobile phone on the second day of his hospitalization, which he, of course, refused to accept.
However, the alpha stated, “It’s fine. Just leave it there and remember to charge it every night.”
When Bai Tang turned it on, it was Zhou Zhaoyu who sent him a video of the cat at home. The orange kitten was having a fun time. It reached for the cat-teasing stick with its soft paws stretched out.
“Super cute.” Bai Tang typed and sent it.
Zhou Zhaoyu quickly replied: It’s called Hopper.
Bai Tang couldn’t stop the urge to click on the video again. Although its name was very odd, but…it’s supeeer cute! He sat there for an inexplicable amount of time, watching it over and over, and even noticed a few black marks on Hopper’s left paw.
“Knock knock.” Suddenly, there was a rap on the door.
Bai Tang, whose eyes were glued to the screen, shook in fear. He slid his phone under the quilt, nearly falling out of bed, his heart pounding so loudly that he could hear it.
“Bai Tang, it’s me.” Jiang Yunshu slid his ID card through the door. Upon observing the nervous and flustered expression on Bai Tang’s face, he concluded that he had once again frightened him. “Don’t be scared; I’ll stand here and talk.”
“S-Sir!” How could Bai Tang allow the alpha to stand at the door? He jumped down and dashed towards the door, intoning, “Please come in. I’m sorry, sir…”
Jiang Yunsu hadn’t been seen in four days. The nurse, who had been asked for a favor, brought only a pheromone-filled piece of clothing and dinner every day. Of course, he didn’t believe the food had been prepared by the alpha. Aside from the fact that it was impossible for Jiang Yunsu to spend time cooking for him, the food tasted completely different. The flavor was surprisingly light.
He hadn’t even finished speaking when Jiang Yunshu frowned and took a decisive step forward, picking up Bai Tang and criticizing, “Your feet haven’t yet healed, but you’re already running around.”
Bai Tang’s nose brushed up against the alpha’s hard chest. Jiang Yunshu placed him on the hospital bed, and he watched as the alpha took hold of his ankle to see if the wound had reopened.
“I’ll talk while standing here.” Jiang Yunshu retreated to the bathroom door, retrieved a small red book from his briefcase, and handed it to Bai Tang. “Look.”
Bai Tang lowered his head, unsure whether he should take it or not.
“It’s yours,” Jiang Yunshu gently handed it over, saying, “Open it and take a look.”
Bai Tang picked it up and opened it. When he saw the first line of text written at the top, his pupils shrank and he turned speechless.
A bird of some unknown species flew by outside, its beak cradling a branch of leaves.
“Certificate of Donation. Mr. Bai Tang, thank you so much for your generous donation of 170,000 to the school…”