48: Embrace
Qian Kun had already braced himself to be interrogated. Hearing Shen Jin’s words was like finding life in a desperate situation.
Almost on instinct, he answered, “I won’t run.”
Shen Jin saw that this tall, broad Alpha was still spacing out. Fine drizzle, needle-thin, fell into his hair, beads of water clinging to the strands, and he didn’t seem to care at all.
Shen Jin pulled his shoe back and made room for him. “Want to sit?”
Qian Kun forcibly pressed down the smile that almost rose, then slid into the back seat with a steady, composed face.
Shen Jin was still hung up on what he’d done earlier. “If your shoelaces come loose next time, just tell me.”
Qian Kun didn’t take it to heart. He gave a low, simple response. “Mm.”
Shen Jin’s expression looked the same as always, but he didn’t seem particularly disgusted.
Qian Kun could usually read other people’s micro-expressions with near-perfect accuracy, but in front of Shen Jin, every guess turned unreliable.
As soon as he got in, Qian Kun took a towel from the car’s storage box and handed it to Shen Jin.
Shen Jin wiped his hair, then noticed Qian Kun’s hands were empty. “What about you?”
Qian Kun said evenly, “There’s only one. After you’re done, I’ll use it.”
He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Heat floated up on Shen Jin’s face. He started wondering if he was overthinking it.
Watching Qian Kun calmly use the towel Shen Jin had just used to dry his own hair, Shen Jin awkwardly curled his fingers into his palm.
Qian Kun broke the stiff silence. “That fall just now, did you get hurt?”
“No,” Shen Jin said.
He lifted his pant leg right away, signaling for Qian Kun to look for himself. His pale ankle and calf didn’t even have a red mark.
Qian Kun hadn’t expected Shen Jin to be this casual, like he didn’t even categorize himself as “the opposite sex.” All he could think was that Shen Jin looked exquisitely made, every part of him like it had been carved with care. That straight calf was so white it almost dazzled, and it made him want to leave his own mark there.
Shen Jin’s original intention was to make Qian Kun realize how outrageous it was to pick him up in the street without a word.
However, as Qian Kun checked for injuries, his lowered gaze and the sharp line of his profile looked unusually serious. The casual look he usually wore was gone, replaced by a focus that felt… oddly sincere.
Shen Jin quickly let the pant leg fall back down, cutting off Qian Kun’s view.
“And also, you shouldn’t have…” Shen Jin hesitated.
Noticing Shen Jin’s discomfort and the earnest, troubled look between his brows, Qian Kun found him adorable. He said, “That was my oversight, but your safety matters more.”
The Alpha’s apology was earnest, but he was clearly the type to never learn.
Shen Jin thought, this guy always has a whole set of reasons ready. Fine, I’ll shelve that for now.
“If I hadn’t fallen just now, were you not going to show up?” With how fast Qian Kun had appeared, Shen Jin quickly realized he might’ve been nearby the whole time.
“I still would’ve,” Qian Kun said.
He hadn’t gone far in the first place. How could he possibly leave Shen Jin on the roadside.
Shen Jin didn’t speak. He stared out at the street, blurred by misty rain.
Then Shen Jin slowly turned back toward the Alpha. Back in the matching room, their emotions had been too volatile, and it hadn’t been the right time to talk.
Now, the atmosphere was exactly right.
“Then next, I might have a lot of questions,” Shen Jin said. “Can you answer honestly?”
“If you ask, I’ll tell you everything,” Qian Kun said, his lashes flicking once.
“Did you differentiate into an Alpha, or were you always one?”
“Always,” Qian Kun said. Then he added more detail without being asked. “At birth, my mental power was already 3S. It set off every baby in the neonatal ward, crying for three days and three nights. After that, all my gender-related records were encrypted multiple times. Only people with positions at or above general-level clearance can see my real information.”
Shen Jin remembered something. “So that’s why the matching room took so long when they were reviewing both sides’ files.”
Qian Kun felt a rare flicker of embarrassment. “Yeah.”
In truth, they’d already sped it up.
“So your gender was listed as Beta from the start?”
“Yes. With 3S mental power, it’s easy to develop complications, and it’s hard to survive into adulthood, both because of your own body and because of outside factors. The state opened green channels for me everywhere to protect my safety. However, after turning eighteen, that gender field can be updated to match reality.”
“What complications do you have?” Shen Jin latched onto the part most people would gloss over.
“I was born with pheromone-induced mood disorder. Only suppressant injections, or suppressant cigarettes, can barely neutralize pheromones that are too strong.”
Shen Jin thought of the figure he often saw on the basketball court and felt like he understood. The doubts he’d had before connected into a line.
“Then what if you don’t have them on you?”
Qian Kun answered half-seriously, half-not. “Then I might get so irritable I’d want to blow up every Alpha in the whole school.”
“Is there any way to suppress it?”
“There is.”
Qian Kun paused, and in the next second, Shen Jin felt a hint of danger and sat up straighter.
Qian Kun looked at him with a half-smile. “Marking someone is mutual. Once you run into someone compatible… it can also relieve my symptoms.”
Shen Jin blinked quickly, somewhat at a loss as he looked toward the window.
Like this, the two chatted as if having a casual conversation, using candid methods to untie the knots in their hearts about the marking incident that could have created barriers.
However they were almost at the Xie residence, and the most critical question Qian Kun had been waiting for still hadn’t come.
Shen Jin never asked why Qian Kun had approached him with ulterior motives.
Shen Jin had been through too much in one day. He needed to go back and sort out everything that had happened lately.
As Shen Jin reached for the door, Qian Kun stopped him.
The rain had paused. A light breeze carried in the earthy, grassy scent of wet soil, fresh enough to clear the mind.
Qian Kun asked, “You don’t have anything else you want to ask?”
Shen Jin looked back and gave him a faint, shallow smile.
“Back then, I was already ready to go to the hospital for surgery,” he said softly. “The success rate was really low. Thank you for showing up.”
No questioning.
Only gratitude, nothing else.
The interrogation and suspicion Qian Kun had expected never arrived at all.
It wasn’t that Shen Jin had no doubts, he just didn’t want to chase the truth to the end. He could tell Qian Kun didn’t really want to answer it.
So he wouldn’t ask for now. They’d only just managed to talk peacefully. Shen Jin didn’t want to stir up more trouble for no reason.
Shen Jin was sure of one thing.
Qian Kun had no ill intent toward him.
Wasn’t that enough?
This person in front of him was considerate to an almost unbelievable degree.
While Qian Kun was still frozen, Shen Jin walked a few steps, then remembered something.
A sentence drifted back, not entirely clear.
“Next time you need to mark me, you can do it openly.”
*
After Qian Kun got home, the butler wanted to tell him they had hired a new servant today and planned to introduce them so he could recognize the face.
A few of the older staff Qian Kun was used to had retired last week. Before the butler could finish however, he saw their usually unreadable young master sweep up to the second floor like a gust of wind.
The moment Qian Kun returned, he made another donation to the public matching room.
The matching room was a state institution. Most of the time, it operated at a loss. Thinking of Shen Jin’s fleeting smile, a surge of impulse rose in Qian Kun’s chest, urging him to help more people who urgently needed marking, people like Shen Jin.
He took out his phone and opened a confidential folder. Inside were photo after photo, all candid shots and screenshots.
The more he looked, the more restless he became.
When the anxiety got too sharp, he dragged out several sets of mock exams and plowed through more than ten pages in one go, running through math, physics, and chemistry until his emotions barely stabilized.
Finally back to his usual state, he took his sleepwear and went to the bathroom for a cold shower.
When he came out, water still clung to his hair. A towel hung around his neck. He strolled out unhurriedly and saw his phone vibrating on the desk, a special notification.
Snowball: [Didn’t you have a question you wanted to ask me before? Just take a photo and send it over.]
Qian Kun stared silently at the stack of exams he just finished at high speed.
Shirtless, he walked over to the desk, flipped open one of the pages, found an out-of-syllabus problem, and erased the pencil marks with an eraser.
After confirming there were no traces left, he snapped a photo and sent it over.
He was waiting for Shen Jin’s reply when he heard a sound outside the door.
Click.
The door suddenly opened.
A male Omega who looked pure and innocent stood in the doorway with a vacuum cleaner, staring in shock.
Qian Kun was in his own room and hadn’t even thought about “avoiding suspicion.” Water droplets slid over the lines of his lean physique. Beneath a narrow waist was a pair of khaki casual pants. He couldn’t be bothered to button them, leaving part of the edge exposed, clean and yet carrying a hint of sensual heat.
The Omega had never seen a scene like this before. His face flushed red instantly.
He panicked and stumbled backward, but his eyes stayed fixed on that near-perfect body.
When You Jia had first come here to apply for work, the luxury had already left him dumbstruck. He thought only a prince deserved to live in a place like this. Seeing Qian Kun here, he felt like it fit perfectly.
You Jia stammered, “S-sorry, I didn’t know you were inside!”
Qian Kun: “……”
You Jia still remembered the butler’s warning: the only room he absolutely couldn’t enter was the young master’s room. The young master didn’t allow anyone to touch his things.
However, You Jia had heard the young master wouldn’t be back tonight, so he thought it would be fine to clean the floor a little. It shouldn’t matter.
Otherwise, with such a high salary, he felt like he was practically robbing the household.
Flustered, he got tangled up with the vacuum and toppled forward.
Falling straight toward Qian Kun.
This wasn’t “chance” anymore.
It felt like fate setting the stage.
Qian Kun frowned. In his head, there seemed to be a faint, unseen voice urging him to step forward and catch the falling Omega, preferably with a meaningful gaze thrown in as well.
Qian Kun didn’t want to do that though.
If he didn’t want to, then in the next moment he would—
As expected, the headache struck without warning.
This time he was mentally prepared, but the sensation was still deeply unpleasant.
Now he could almost confirm it: whenever You Jia appeared, if Qian Kun didn’t follow the “script” he was supposed to follow, he would be punished.
At first the pain wasn’t severe, but the more he resisted, the worse it got, the headache escalating with every act of defiance.
Several hypotheses flashed through Qian Kun’s mind. He took a few steps forward. At the instant he was about to catch the Omega.
The headache disappeared instantly.
Experiment complete.
His eyes remained clear. His hand abruptly changed direction, moving a step to the side.
The next second, You Jia fell flat on his back, sprawling on the floor.
Qian Kun rubbed his temple and silently let out a breath.
Even though he avoided one trap, the pain still lingered like a chronic illness, gnawing in his skull.
An inexplicable fire rose in his heart, like a stone pressing on his chest.
He couldn’t stay in the same room as this Omega. He grabbed the coat on the hanger and, without sparing the pitiful Omega on the floor even a glance, walked straight out.
From start to finish, he didn’t say a single word.
He swung onto his motorcycle and sped away.
He tore through the streets and arrived at the Xie estate’s front gate, the place he’d only just left not long ago.
Only then did he belatedly realize what he was even doing.
But he couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. He sat not far from the gate, staring toward the estate buildings he could barely see.
He wanted to guess which window Shen Jin might be at, but then he realized the Xie family had built the house hundreds of meters away from the gate.
He didn’t discover much else, except that the Xie family was obsessed with lawns.
Qian Kun smiled bitterly and sighed.
He picked up his helmet, preparing to get on the bike.
Just as he turned his head, he unexpectedly saw Shen Jin walking this way under the streetlight, holding several cups of milk tea.
Shen Jin stared at him, surprised, like he was looking at a soaked, oversized wolf-dog. “Why are you—”
The person he had just been chatting with on WeChat was suddenly standing right in front of him. It felt… unreal.
He hadn’t even finished speaking.
Qian Kun silently stepped forward, as if releasing accumulated gloom, walking toward Shen Jin.
Shen Jin’s whole body stiffened. He took a step back, but a large hand settled on his waist, pulling him in without hesitation into a wood-scented embrace.
In that instant, it was as if a cool breeze moved into Qian Kun’s mind.
He buried his face in Shen Jin’s shoulder and breathed in deeply, drinking in that unique scent that belonged only to Shen Jin.
Thud.
Two cups of milk tea fell to the ground. Liquid spilled everywhere.
Author’s Note:
Qian Qian: Full HP revived.
IsitRo: This is something I wanted to mention before we move on. One thing I’ve noticed in a lot of Chinese stories is that clinical diagnoses tend to get used pretty loosely. Sometimes, just because a few symptoms seem to overlap, a real medical term gets dropped in without much thought behind it. I don’t think the author meant any harm here, but I wasn’t comfortable using bipolar disorder as the character’s “official” diagnosis in this context.
As someone who works in the medical field, it’s kind of ingrained in us to be as accurate as possible when it comes to information, especially when it involves real people and real conditions. So I chose to adjust the wording to something that better reflects what the story is actually describing. Honestly, this was also just for my own peace of mind.
It might not feel like a big deal to everyone, but considering how heavily stigmatized and misunderstood some disorders already are, even small choices like this matter. If nothing else, I hope it’s a tiny step toward more thoughtful storytelling, and a bit more care when it comes to labeling people.
0 Comments