Chapter 16: The Game

At noon, Old Master Chi didn’t show up, so Chi Han and Qin Wen headed back to the city first.

Inside the car, the scent of pine mixed with mint lingered. Chi Han sat upright, eyes fixed on the highway, his senses stretched into fine, invisible threads that landed on Qin Wen. Before long, Chi Han slowed the car down, making the ride smoother because Qin Wen had fallen asleep.

During pregnancy, drowsiness is common. Chi Han figured that after the chaos of pheromone imbalance, Qin Wen was finally recovering.

The car eventually stopped at the residential area. It was stuffy inside, and as soon as Chi Han opened the window, a dog on the roadside started barking wildly. Qin Wen woke up to the noise, still a bit dazed, “Are we there?”

“Yeah.” Chi Han glanced at the dog, a half-grown Teddy, which whimpered and backed away.

“You look better,” Chi Han observed Qin Wen closely. He didn’t know that Qin Wen hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in over two months. Since the temporary marking last night, his condition had only just begun to stabilize. “The fridge is probably empty. Do you need to buy anything?”

Qin Wen, a bit slow to react these days, subconsciously relied on Chi Han. He agreed to whatever Chi Han suggested, “Sure.”

The two went to the small supermarket downstairs and bought some greens and a few carrots. When it came to buying meat, Qin Wen stopped him, “No, it’s not fresh.”

Chi Han withdrew his hand and silently took note. He didn’t have much concept of freshness, but it didn’t matter; he could learn slowly.

Chi Han carried the groceries upstairs. Qin Wen found the scene somewhat comforting, yet awkward. When Chi Han entered the password and opened the door, gesturing for Qin Wen to go in, the awkwardness peaked. Qin Wen reflected: Whose house is this, really…?

The eighty-square-meter apartment wasn’t enough for Chi Han to fully extend his senses, but the lush green plants on the windowsill added a touch of life compared to the previously empty apartment. Chi Han took off his light-colored trench coat, rolled up his shirt sleeves, revealing his lean, muscular forearms. He looked up at Qin Wen, seemingly unaware of the young man’s daze, and naturally said, “You sit and rest. Want to watch TV?” He turned on the screen, which flickered with static.

Qin Wen felt embarrassed, “I haven’t connected it to the internet.”

“No problem.” Chi Han handed his phone to Qin Wen, “Last time, Chi Sheng downloaded a few games on my phone. I didn’t delete them. You can play.”

Qin Wen hesitantly took it. In their three years of marriage, he had never touched something as personal as Chi Han’s phone. It wasn’t locked, and even the screensaver was the default landscape. There were only a few commonly used apps, and the game app was easy to spot. Qin Wen opened the game, his mind racing, only to find he was playing the simplest match-three game. Matching jellies of the same color and shape would eliminate them, accompanied by childish sound effects. Qin Wen glanced at Chi Han busy in the kitchen, then turned his back to play, as if that would keep him from being noticed.

He really hadn’t played before. From childhood, Qin Wen followed Qin Yaosheng’s plans. As an Omega, he wasn’t eligible to inherit the family business, but until Qin Shu came of age, he had to be the stepping stone for Qin Shu and the Qin family. This notion was instilled by Qin Yaosheng from a young age. Even after reaching adulthood, Qin Wen found it unreasonable, but due to prolonged mental pressure and societal biases against Omegas, he didn’t dare complain. Now, holding the game, Qin Wen went from initial embarrassment to newfound curiosity, tapping faster and faster.

There were some frozen shrimp and meat in the fridge. Remembering the doctor’s advice, Chi Han decisively chose the meat, which turned out to be the right choice. Dinner would be noodles with some cold dishes.

While the dough was resting, Chi Han came out of the kitchen and saw Qin Wen tapping rapidly on the screen. His intuition and sharpness were indeed unlike an Omega. He remembered Chi Sheng always pestering him for help with this game because the time limit would make her panic, and she’d sit in the chair yelling for help. But she was never fast enough; in the hell level, being a second too slow would immediately bring up a gray “Failure” on the screen.

“Fifth attempt,” Qin Wen looked up, his tone low, carrying an inexplicable hint of submission, not at all annoying.

Chi Han sat beside Qin Wen, took the phone, and hit “Retry.” “Let me try.”

Chi Han’s fingers moved several times faster than Qin Wen’s, sometimes leaving afterimages. With over ten seconds left on the timer, the game ended, displaying a big “Victory.”

“That’s amazing!” Qin Wen exclaimed.

Chi Han had heard many compliments, but this time he felt a bit proud. “Dinner’s not ready yet. Keep playing, and call me if you can’t pass a level.”

Time flew by while playing games. Chi Han brought out the noodles, and Qin Wen was still glued to the phone. Chi Han quickly cleared the current level and gestured for Qin Wen to sit at the dining table, “Eat first, then continue.” He had a slight scent of oil and smoke, and his whole demeanor had changed, like a god descending to become a flesh-and-blood human.

The noodles were refreshing, cooked to perfection. Qin Wen’s cooking was average, and when his stomach was upset, he didn’t want to touch even the finest delicacies. But now, with a plate of cold shredded potatoes, he finished even the soup.

Chi Han observed discreetly, feeling that Qin Wen’s condition was indeed much better.

But he couldn’t bring himself to tell Qin Wen to move back. It wouldn’t be right or fair to Qin Wen. Why should Qin Wen leave just because he said so, and return obediently when he asked? Chi Han couldn’t understand how he had said those harsh words back then.

After dinner, Chi Han cleaned up the dishes. As he leaned over, he got close to Qin Wen, startling the young man. Qin Wen moved aside, revealing a fair neck, and asked softly, “What’s wrong?”

“The mark…” Chi Han pressed on him, “It’s fading fast.”

In the past, a temporary mark was enough for Qin Wen to last half a year. But now, just the second day, it was already fading. Little did he know, Qin Wen had a pheromone devourer in his belly, using one mark for two.

“Is it?” Qin Wen lowered his eyes, “It’s okay, this…” The rest of his words were silenced.

A gentle touch covered his gland. Chi Han held Qin Wen’s waist and gently bit down, letting a steady stream of pheromones flow in, restoring the “spring” to its original state.

It wasn’t a full mark, but Qin Wen was still breathless. Chi Han lifted him onto the sofa, covered him with a blanket, and handed back the phone, “Don’t worry, I have as much pheromone as you need.”

Qin Wen clutched the phone tightly, a blush spreading from his neck upwards. He feigned calmness, “I-I know.” But his eyes were red, barely hidden by his glasses. Chi Han stared at the blush, his gaze deepening, before returning to the kitchen with a blank expression.