Chapter 42

Lin Si flipped a page, then dismissed all the melodies and chords he had written before pressing the piano keys again.

When even the sixteenth notes started looking like tadpoles in his frazzled state, Lin Si picked up his phone, only to find that Y still hadn’t replied.

He sighed, scooting back from the front third of the piano bench until he was sitting cross-legged. Resting his chin on his hand, he wondered if he should tell Liao Ji about his relationship.

If Liao Ji found out he was in a relationship—an online one, no less—with someone whose real name and face he didn’t even know, he’d probably confiscate Lin Si’s phone and use his connections to dig up everything about Y.

But if he never said anything, he had no idea when he’d ever get the chance to meet Y.

He ruffled his already messy hair into a proper bird’s nest, then slowly climbed off the bench. Slumping onto the window seat, he picked up his game console from the carpet, swiped through the options a few times, found the game Lu Nan had recently recommended, and started playing, using it as a distraction.

Less than half an hour later, he had already fallen asleep on a pillow.

By the time most of the city lights had gone out, the fingerprint scanner of Apartment 2501 gave a soft beep.

Inside, only the entrance light was on. Lu Wei changed his shoes, walked through the living room, and stopped in the hallway.

Lin Si’s bedroom door was open, and in the darkness, Lu Wei could just make out the rumpled blanket on the bed.

No one was there.

Lin Si wasn’t home.

Lu Wei checked his phone. Lin Si had messaged him around dinnertime, asking a question. Lu Wei had replied that he was out eating, and after that, Lin Si hadn’t sent another message. The last thing in their chat was just Lu Wei’s own text from the car: [I’m home.]

It was 11:30 PM.

Lin Si would never be out this late.

Lu Wei sent him another message, testing the waters: [Are you asleep?]

Ten minutes passed, but the chat remained unchanged.

Anxiety crept up on him. Sitting upright in the living room, Lu Wei called Lin Si’s phone.

The dial tone lasted a full minute—not long, but not short either.

By the time it ended, Lu Wei had already walked to the front door. His hand rested on the doorknob, but he had no idea where to even start looking for Lin Si.

After the business dinner, Zheng Hao had stormed off in a rage, while Lu Wei and the others had gone to a second location, finally sealing the deal amid the flashing lights and loud music.

He had drunk quite a bit.

The alcohol left him slightly dizzy, but still clear-headed. Instead of making another call to Lin Si, he called Liao Ji and simply asked, “Is Lin Si coming home? If not, I’m locking the door.”

Liao Ji was taken aback. Lock the door? How could a door with an iris scanner even be locked?

But he quickly grasped the real issue and asked urgently, “Lin Si went out?!”

“He’s not home,” Lu Yan replied.

“That’s impossible. He doesn’t have any work scheduled these days.” Liao Ji paused for a few seconds before clapping his hands. “Check next door. He’s probably writing music there with the door closed, so he didn’t hear you.”

Lu Wei hung up without even replying, changed his shoes, and headed to the neighboring apartment.

The living room lights were on.

That, at least, eased his anxiety a little.

Lu Wei turned the doorknob to the recording studio and stepped inside. Scattered around the piano were seven or eight sheets of music, each covered in Lin Si’s messy but endearing notes. Lu Wei bent down to pick one up, his gaze lowering—only to spot a long leg draped over the window seat.

Lin Si was lying face-down on a pillow, his left leg bent, right leg dangling toward the floor. A gaming console rested by his right hand.

The feeling of his heart safely touching down allowed Lu Wei to steady his breathing. Moving carefully, he gathered the scattered sheet music and set it aside before finally approaching Lin Si.

Only half of Lin Si’s face was visible, the other half pressed against the pillow. Lu Wei smoothed out the messy tufts of his hair. When Lin Si didn’t react, he reached out again, this time gently brushing his fingertips across his cheek—not in the fleeting way he had before, but in a slow, lingering stroke.

At last, Lin Si stirred, rubbing against the pillow. His hand, previously resting on the window seat, slipped down into the empty air.

The faint milky scent of Lin Si filled Lu Wei’s senses.

He really wanted to call him baby.

But in the end, he held back. Instead, he withdrew his hand from Lin Si’s cheek, moved it to his back, and gave him two light pats.

“Lin Si.”

Lin Si let out a muffled hum from his nose.

Lu Wei’s hand hovered for a moment before he withdrew it. With practiced patience, he adjusted Lin Si’s position, trying to lift him. But when the pillow refused to budge from his grasp, Lu Wei sighed and simply scooped both him and the pillow into his arms.

By the time they reached the doorway of Apartment 2501, Lin Si was drifting between sleep and wakefulness. In the hazy glow of the entryway light, he mumbled, “Where…?”

“Home.” Lu Wei kicked off his shoes.

Lin Si raised a hand to rub his eyes, loosening his grip on the pillow. It slipped from his arms and thudded softly onto the floor. In a dazed, half-dreaming voice, he muttered, “Bubble fell…”

Lu Wei nearly laughed but held it in. Instead, he played along. “I’ll pick it up later.”

Lin Si’s eyes slid shut again, and he murmured as if talking to himself, “You’re home…”

“I was late. Sorry.”

Lu Wei gently laid him down on the bed. Before he could even pull away, Lin Si wrapped his arms around his arm, resting his head against him without another word—already fast asleep again.

With his free hand, Lu Wei pulled the blanket over him. Lin Si instinctively burrowed upward, tightening his hold.

Unable to move, Lu Wei simply stopped trying. He leaned against the headboard of Lin Si’s bed, lowering his gaze to watch his peaceful sleeping face.

He thought, with Lin Si’s personality, no matter where he went, people would always like him. If he weren’t in the entertainment industry, he would’ve probably met an Alpha who adored him during his school years.

Just like in the virtual world. The sincere young man would have confessed his feelings to his Alpha, and after receiving a response, he would have clung to them like a little cat, looking forward to seeing them in the bright, sunlit classroom every day.

Maybe they would have even gotten married right after graduating from university.

Then, at twenty years old, Lin Si—like all newlywed Omegas—would hold his Alpha, or be held in their arms, spending every beautiful night together.

Lu Wei placed his palm on Lin Si’s shoulder, the blanket between them.

He had used up all the luck in his life for this moment.

The time he spent holding Lin Si felt like a gift from the heavens, a rare bit of warmth granted to him.

He didn’t like Omegas. When he was younger, he had even despised them.

To him, Omegas were like parasitic vines, clinging to Alphas. The moment they released their pheromones, they would lose themselves, sinking, surrendering, abandoning their sense of self to become completely at the mercy of another.

Alcohol blurred his thoughts, stringing together old memories. Scenes from the past replayed before his eyes.

In his recollection, his mother would sit in the vast living room every night, wrapped in a blanket, watching the video of her wedding with Lu Shaoming.

Whenever she saw herself smiling in the recording, she would start crying.

Had Lu Shaoming ever loved Yu Ling? Lu Wei didn’t know. But ever since he could remember, there had always been too many Omegas around Lu Shaoming for him to even keep track of their faces.

Yu Ling was like a flower that had bloomed in a secluded valley, only to have all its colors stolen and discarded.

She would hold Lu Wei and watch that video over and over again. The deeper the night grew, the more he could feel her tears falling onto his face, gradually losing their warmth.

Then, on a day with beautiful weather, Yu Ling dressed him in new clothes and took him to an amusement park. She sat on a bench by the carousel, watching him ride. Every time he turned toward her, she would wave with a bright smile. And when he got off, she opened her arms to embrace him, asking if he had fun.

That same night, Yu Ling fell asleep in the bedroom she once shared with Lu Shaoming—and never woke up again.

Like all the weak, powerless first wives in novels and movies, she had spent her entire life in quiet endurance, and even in death, she left without a sound.

By the time Lu Wei returned to the Lu estate, Yu Ling’s body had already been covered with a white sheet. From that moment on, all memories of her were sealed away, leaving only the gentle smile on her face.

To this day, Lu Wei still couldn’t remember the exact date of that “beautiful day.” Even when, like clockwork, Lu Shaoming would suddenly have a moment of conscience and ask if he wanted to visit her grave together, Lu Wei never responded.

The Yu family had become bitter enemies with Lu Shaoming, severing all financial ties with Shengshi and demanding Lu Wei’s return.

But Lu Wei chose to stay with Lu Shaoming anyway.

He was raised in silence, cared for by nannies, growing up and stepping into adulthood without anyone truly noticing. He concealed everything, using the trust fund Yu Ling had left him before her death to establish his own tech company. At the same time, he played along with Lu Shaoming, pretending to be the smartest, most promising son he could be—until the day Lu Shaoming suffered a stroke in an Omega’s bed, leaving him gravely ill. Then, as if it were only natural, Lu Wei reclaimed everything that had once belonged to Yu Ling.

He watched it all unfold with cold indifference.

Because this was what he had wanted.

With a heart frozen still, he lived unlike any ordinary young man, playing the role of a machine without joy or sorrow. The only time emotion ever slipped onto his face was when he was forced to be around the Omegas surrounding Lu Shaoming—then, he couldn’t help but show his deep-seated disgust.

So he knew: without Lin Si, he would never have known intimacy, care, or affection.

Lin Si was the warmth of spring sunlight, the summer night’s long breeze. Lu Wei had exhausted all his luck just to catch the first snowfall Lin Si brought to his winter.

He truly, utterly liked him.

“Mm…” Lin Si murmured softly.

His grip on Lu Wei’s hand tightened. He shifted from lying down to leaning into Lu Wei’s side.

Lu Wei tucked the blanket around him, but Lin Si grew restless, pushing it away. His voice came in broken whimpers as he burrowed against Lu Wei’s chest, breathing heavily.

Lu Wei tensed, pressing the back of his hand against Lin Si’s forehead.

Scalding hot.

He called Lin Si’s name.

Lin Si gave a faint response but remained half-conscious, mumbling “Y” in a daze. Then, as if the heat were unbearable, he started pulling at his own clothes, trying to strip them off.

“Baby, wait…” Lu Wei grasped his hands, struggling to pull his phone from his pocket. He quickly dialed Li Jicheng.

The call rang. No one answered.

Lin Si’s forehead was damp with sweat. He had already managed to get his clothes halfway off, but now, exhausted, he lay panting against Lu Wei’s chest.

“Can you hear me?” Lu Wei cradled his face. “Lin Si, can you still hear me?”

Lin Si nodded weakly, still clinging to him.

“Where does it hurt?” Lu Wei asked.

Lin Si whimpered again but only said, “Hot.”

Lu Wei threw off the blanket completely, propping him upright. Just like last time, he let Lin Si rest against him, settling his chin on his shoulder. “Is this any better?”

But Lin Si pushed at him, resisting the contact, still muttering about the heat. Yet, the moment Lu Wei’s pheromones faded, he instinctively leaned back in, rubbing his face against Lu Wei’s shoulder, seeking comfort.

Lu Wei’s grip on his phone nearly cracked it.

He adjusted Lin Si’s position, shifting him onto his lap. But barely two seconds passed before Lin Si slid right back against him again.

Lu Wei was in an even more disheveled state than Lin Si. He held down Lin Si’s hands, stopping him from tugging at his clothes, while repeatedly calling Li Jicheng.

“Baby,” Lu Wei finally grabbed Lin Si’s hand, which was resting dangerously close to his waistband, and scolded in a warning tone, “Don’t move.”

“Lu… Lu Zong (T/n: President Lu)???” Li Jicheng’s groggy voice sharpened with alarm. “What’s going on?”

Lu Wei took a deep breath. “Lin Si seems to be having another false rut, but it’s worse than last time. He keeps saying he’s hot, and he’s barely conscious.”

“He…” Li Jicheng, still half-asleep, struggled to process the situation. Just as he was about to say something, he heard Lu Wei’s strained voice trying to reason with Lin Si.

And then—

“Baby?” Li Jicheng blurted out.

Lu Wei completely ignored the unnecessary commentary. “Should I give him a suppressant?”

“No!” Li Jicheng immediately rejected the idea. “I told you before, no suppressants!”

Lu Wei felt like he was holding a burning furnace that wouldn’t stop squirming. Sweat dripped down his temples.

“Try not to restrain him,” Li Jicheng advised. “See what he actually wants to do. I can’t tell yet if this is a false rut or… if he’s entered a real heat.”

Lu Wei had already resigned himself to the chaos. He let Lin Si pull at his clothes—so now, he simply loosened every restraint on Lin Si’s body.

The little furnace sprawled against his shoulder, his half-lidded eyes hazy with heat, his breath coming in desperate pants. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, struggling as if he had just run thousands of meters. As he kicked and twisted, he even managed to step on the waistband of his sleep pants, pushing them halfway down.

Lu Wei squeezed his eyes shut in despair, waiting for Lin Si’s next move.

But Lin Si didn’t do anything more.

He burned up, seeking every possible way to cool down, yet he was also drawn toward Lu Wei’s pheromones. The two conflicting instincts tangled inside him, making him suffer immensely.

“…He’s only pulling at my clothes,” Lu Wei murmured, voice hoarse from restraint.

“Then it’s not too bad…” Li Jicheng fell silent for two seconds before saying, “You should give him a temporary mark.”

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Author’s Note:

Ooooh~ Another day of raising a banner for Dr. Li!

T/n : Well the way Our Dr. Li has made our Ml’s work easy, we really should give him a big round of applause Lol 😂😏. If you want to support me you can buy me a Ko-Fi or go to my paypal page. Happy Reading 🎉😀