Chapter 13

The young omega’s gaze gradually lowered, and his soft, flesh-toned lips were gently bitten. His full, beautiful lips seemed as if they were born to be adorned with a rich, enticing hue. The small, plump bead of his lower lip trembled delicately before his eyes.

Jiang Zhiyu squinted slightly, just catching a shy, barely audible voice: “No…” Ling Ran felt his ears burning as if on fire; faintly, the distant noise of the crowd outside seemed to echo in his mind.

The man standing before him was cold and silent, like a mountain that could envelop him entirely.

Discussing whether one was in heat with an elder in such a quiet, secluded place was an unbearably humiliating topic for Ling Ran. He had never shared such intimate matters with anyone else—only Jiang Zhiyu had ever witnessed him consumed by the overwhelming, terrifying tide of heat.

To change the subject, he said, “You haven’t received the payment on WeChat yet; it’s for the suppressor.”

Jiang Zhiyu took out his phone and glanced at it, scrolling down to find several unread messages from “Little Grape.” He received so many messages daily from all sorts of people that he rarely checked them.

“They’ve expired,” his slender fingers tapped the screen. “Two thousand one hundred?”

Thinking he might consider the amount insufficient, Ling Ran hurriedly took out his phone and resent the money, humbly explaining, “Sorry, this is all I have right now…”

That two thousand one hundred was hard-earned from Ling Ran’s little savings, torn from him with tears as he gave it all away.

Jiang Zhiyu saw the note Ling Ran had added to his contact—“Uncle”—while his own pinned nickname was “Dear Ayi.”

Jiang Zhiyu twirled his phone between his fingers and pocketed it.

Ling Ran clenched his phone tighter and added, “I’ll repay the rest slowly. Please give me a little more time—I’m about to find a job.”

“Pay when you find one,” Jiang Zhiyu replied, slipping the phone into his pocket.

Ling Ran’s gaze shifted; it softened from one of awe and fear to one tinged with gratitude. Now he felt his uncle wasn’t so unfeeling after all—he had taken him to the hospital, bought him a suppressor, and even extended the repayment deadline.

A bright smile blossomed in his clear, clean eyes as he spoke with an innocence that was almost unbelievable: “Thank you, Uncle.”

Not intending to linger, Ling Ran was desperate to relieve himself. Facing the man before him, he braced himself and asked, “May I ask where the restroom is?”

Jiang Zhiyu pinched the half-burnt cigarette between his fingers, eyeing the omega whose cheeks had flushed slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“In a hurry?”

Ling Ran blinked, startled. How could he not be? If he weren’t, would he have stumbled here blindly?

He bit his lower lip, wishing he could vanish into the ground. “Y-yes, a little.”

“So, not urgent,” Jiang Zhiyu concluded lightly and strode past him.

Tears pricked Ling Ran’s eyes as he quickly grabbed the hem of Jiang Zhiyu’s suit jacket, his slender knuckles tinged with a faint pink, trembling so fiercely his fingertips turned pale.

“I’m urgent…”

Seeing the soft warmth shining plainly in his eyes, Jiang Zhiyu’s smile deepened.

“You little liar.”

“Ugh.”

Trailing behind Jiang Zhiyu, Ling Ran wound through the corridor and entered a spacious courtyard, eventually arriving beside a winding water corridor. Inside was evidently the restroom, with two men chatting and smoking by a patch of verdant bamboo.

Spotting Jiang Zhiyu, the two men froze, hastily crushing out their cigarette butts.

Ling Ran recognized one of them—Tang Jun, an alpha who had been quite disrespectful to him outside.

“Hey, Jiang,” Tang Jun greeted.

“Uncle,” replied the other young man, Li Meng, a cousin from the second branch of the family, son of Jiang Shengyi’s aunt. Nearly thirty and idle, he often hung around the Jiang family with his mother, having pocketed a fair share of benefits for his own family.

Though Li Meng addressed Jiang Zhiyu as “Uncle” out of respect for Jiang Shengyi’s generation, they were about the same age.

Jiang Zhiyu glanced at them coldly, then said to Ling Ran behind him, “Go ahead.”

Ling Ran lowered his head and hurried inside, feeling their gazes lingering on him from the bamboo grove.

Once inside the restroom, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

When he emerged, Jiang Zhiyu and Tang Jun were gone, leaving only Li Meng standing by the bamboo, seemingly waiting for him.

As Ling Ran approached, Li Meng sized him up from head to toe.

“Come with me.”

Without waiting, Li Meng led Ling Ran toward the main hall. Without a guide, Ling Ran might have struggled to find his way back.

Once safely back in the main hall, Ling Ran thanked Li Meng.

By then, most people had gathered, and as noon approached, the elders began moving outside, preparing to proceed to the ancestral tomb on the back mountain for the memorial ceremony.

Jiang Shengyi was nowhere to be found, and unable to spot him, Ling Ran boarded a car with some elders and followed them to the back mountain.

The mountain air was fresh, surrounded by towering green trees. Dense fir forests stretched overhead, shielding the area from the city’s clamor, as if a secluded paradise.

A massive, uninscribed stele stood quietly among the woods. Everyone bowed their heads before the tombstone while a black-robed priest murmured prayers.

Though Ling Ran had never met the Jiang family’s ancestor, he knew the entire clan was founded by this venerable elder. Filled with respect, he bowed his head and silently prayed for the old man.

After the prayers, each person stepped forward to place a pine branch, pre-distributed among them, before the stele to pay respects.

As the crowd shifted, Ling Ran spotted Jiang Shengyi standing nearby with Yin Chu. They were talking casually, seemingly oblivious to others. Yin Chu even shielded her face lightly with her hand, smiling.

Unaware onlookers might have thought they were the affectionate couple about to wed.

Ling Ran felt an indescribable emotion and looked away, clutching his pine branch as he moved forward with the procession.

When it was his turn, the branches already formed a small mound before the tombstone. Respectfully, he added his own and then stepped away with the crowd.

After the ceremony, the clear sky had suddenly filled with dark clouds.

The wind picked up, and rain began to fall.

The forest path was tricky to navigate. As Ling Ran carefully looked down while walking, he heard someone call his name. Turning, he saw Jiang Shengyi’s mother, Jiang Ronglian.

Jiang Ronglian was an omega in her forties, well-maintained and still elegant, nearly twenty years younger than Jiang Shengsong, Jiang Shengyi’s father.

“Ling Ran, I called you several times but you didn’t hear. You came today but didn’t even greet the elders first. I didn’t even know you were here,” Jiang Ronglian complained.

Knowing she disliked him, Ling Ran lowered his head and greeted her and those beside her politely.

“Aunt, Auntie.”

Though he had only met Jiang’s aunt twice, he knew she was even less approachable than Jiang Ronglian.

Sure enough, Jiang’s aunt looked at him disdainfully. “The Ling family isn’t some small household, so why do you show no manners? On the old master’s memorial day, they just send a child to attend?”

Ling Ran explained, “My parents are still abroad and couldn’t come back in time. My brother and sister also had urgent matters, so I came alone.”

Jiang Ronglian scrutinized him from head to toe, shaking her head with disdain. “Didn’t Grandma Shengyi say you’re too thin now? You’re supposed to gain weight before marriage. Did you listen to her advice?”

“I…” Ling Ran was about to reply when a sudden gust swept through the forest, making his slender frame look even more fragile beneath his empty clothes.

Jiang Ronglian frowned. “Look at how thin you are. Anyone seeing you would think you’re starved at the Ling household. With your small build, how will you bear heirs for Shengyi? How will you continue the second branch? As an omega, don’t you understand your purpose in marrying Shengyi? Don’t you have any self-awareness?”

Her words degraded the value of an omega, as if their sole fate was to bear children for their husbands.

Ling Ran wondered: just because he was an omega, did he lose his basic rights? Why did everyone remind him of his ‘mission and duty’ as an omega? Was he not first and foremost an independent individual?

Did he have to sacrifice himself for some vague, abstract cause of human propagation?

Couldn’t he be selfish, living just for himself?

Before he could answer, Jiang’s aunt’s gaze dropped to the loose pant leg accidentally lifted by the wind, revealing a glimpse of a suppressor at his ankle. Her expression abruptly changed.

She leaned toward Jiang Ronglian, whispering something.

Jiang Ronglian’s eyes suddenly glinted with suspicion and disgust. Trembling, she pointed at the exposed suppressor and demanded loudly, “Tell me, what is this? Why are you wearing this?”

Ling Ran looked down nervously, shaking his pant leg to cover the suppressor again.

“It’s an ankle suppressor,” he said frankly, knowing he couldn’t hide it.

Jiang Ronglian’s face twisted into a grimace. She jabbed his shoulder sharply and demanded, “I know it’s a suppressor! I’m asking why you’re wearing it. Do you have pheromone sickness?!”

Jiang’s aunt joined in, “Is that even a question? Wearing a suppressor means you’re not a good omega. Listen, sister, if an omega is sick enough to need a suppressor to control themselves, their glands must be faulty. And if the glands are faulty, that certainly affects that area too.”

She whispered the term “reproductive tract” near Jiang Ronglian’s ear.

This news was like a thunderclap on a clear day, nearly making Jiang Ronglian lose her balance. The carefully arranged marriage her family had worked for had been matched to an omega with a diseased reproductive tract.

Wasn’t that essentially a beautiful waste?

“You Ling family never said he was sick. Were you planning to hide this until after the wedding?”

Ling Ran spoke softly, “I’m sick because Shengyi’s pheromones affected me.”

“What did you say? How dare you slander Shengyi?!” Jiang Ronglian, furious, lost all composure and slapped him hard across the cheek.

“Shameless!”

The sharp slap echoed through the forest.

Everyone froze, their gazes searching for the source before settling on the group.

The blow was so forceful that Ling Ran’s ear rang. He staggered back, tripped over a protruding root, swayed, and fell to the ground.

His delicate white fingers sank slowly into the soft earth, his cheek burning fiercely. A vivid red handprint bloomed on his fair skin, stark against his strikingly handsome face.

Ling Ran was too stunned by the pain to recover quickly. He lowered his head and slowly drew a breath. His disheveled hair was lifted by the gentle breeze, and an eerie silence fell over the forest.

Suddenly, the dark clouds above seemed sliced open, and a torrent of raindrops crashed down from the sky.

Plop.

Plop.

The rain dripped down through the trees and grasses.

Those watching the spectacle were scattered by the sudden downpour. Bodyguards from various families raised umbrellas, stepping forward to shield their masters.

Ling Ran’s hair was dampened by the rain. He lifted his misty peach blossom eyes silently to those standing before him.

Jiang Ronglian, still unsatisfied, moved forward to strike again, but Jiang Shengyi arrived abruptly and pulled her back.

“Mother, stop this. Today is the ancestor’s memorial. You’re being disrespectful.”

Jiang Ronglian, glaring at her son, asked, “Did you already know he was sick?”

Jiang Shengyi’s gaze was icy as he glanced at Ling Ran, who was still sitting in the mud. “I didn’t know.”

She shoved him away. “Then stay out of this. Since the Ling family lacks discipline, I’ll teach him a lesson!”

“Aunt, please don’t be angry,” Yin Chu stepped forward, holding an umbrella over mother and son. “The rain is getting heavier. Let’s talk about this later. Let’s go.”

Seeing Yin Chu, Jiang Ronglian’s anger subsided considerably. “Fine. Chu Chu, you’re still the thoughtful and well-behaved one, just like when you were young. Your family knows how to raise children well, unlike some others.”

They prepared to leave, umbrellas raised, seemingly indifferent to the small, drenched figure lying on the ground.

Ling Ran watched Jiang Shengyi holding umbrellas for Jiang Ronglian and Yin Chu, while he felt like he had been cast into the coldest ice cellar, chilled to the bone.

His clothes were nearly soaked through, his hands trembling uncontrollably from the cold. He bent his pale neck, trying to support himself to stand.

Suddenly, the torrential rain vanished without a trace, replaced by the sharp sound of raindrops striking a thick umbrella overhead.

Ling Ran looked up to see a luxurious black umbrella with thirty-two ribs shielding him.

Jiang Zhiyu stood beside him, his expression calm, the black umbrella enclosing Ling Ran completely.