Chapter 10#
Boyfriend?#
Zhen Ye actually couldn’t tell whether he had really fallen.
Maybe it was an illusion.
He often experienced this, as if while walking alone, he walked through a mist and into a bewildering dream. By the time he came to, he had already arrived somewhere else, and much time had passed.
But this time was different from before.
This illusion was more absurd, more bizarre. Through the overwhelming sound of rain, he vaguely heard what seemed to be his name.
He also saw something in the pitch-black night cut through the curtain of rain with decisive speed, swinging down from above the cliff he had fallen from.
Immediately afterward, something cold, thick, long, and damp wrapped around his waist in a posture of forceful reclamation.
It was very strong, its toughness and strength comparable to the industrial steel cables attached to bungee jumpers.
But at the same time, it was very gentle, pulling upward slowly, not hurting his injured spine at all.
It dragged him back from the precarious edge. Coiling tightly around his waist, it stuffed him into a warm, dim little box.
The sliding door closed.
The fierce sound of rain suddenly faded.
Zhen Ye’s eyes were open, but his vision and sense of touch were blurry, as if separated by a layer of fog, sluggish and numb.
“Zhen Ye… Zhen Ye…”
“He’s frozen stiff, bring a blanket…”
He heard a hoarse call.
The voice seemed very close, close enough to be right beside him, yet also very far away, as if it might disappear again with the slightest lapse of attention.
Zhen Ye shuddered. Without knowing why, he groped and crawled toward the source of the voice.
He couldn’t get over.
Something was blocking him.
Before he could try again, a pair of dry, warm hands gripped his waist, effortlessly lifted him over, and pressed him into a broad, sturdy embrace.
“Sir, I’ve brought the blanket.”
Du Rui, holding an umbrella, retrieved a thick fleece blanket from the trunk. When he came back, he happened to see that omega trying to crawl over the rear center console, only to be pulled over and held down by his master in one motion.
Rong Yu supported the back of Zhen Ye’s head with his palm, preventing him from moving around and knocking his forehead against the car roof.
At the same time, he unzipped Zhen Ye’s windbreaker with a sharp “shhk” and yanked it off. When he tossed it onto the car floor mat, it made a wet slap.
His trousers were soaked through as well.
Rong Yu hesitated for a moment, then bent down slightly, grabbed his ankle, and slipped two fingers inside the trouser leg. The calf muscle was taut and icy to the touch—he was bare underneath.
The little brat wasn’t wearing any leggings, just a single pair of trousers.
Rong Yu naturally couldn’t strip him any further.
“Give me the blanket.”
Rong Yu took it from Du Rui and unfurled it with one hand after a flick.
A large blanket, two meters wide, drifted down lightly onto Zhen Ye’s back, where his bones jutted out from thinness. Then Rong Yu grabbed it and pulled, instantly wrapping the soaking-wet rabbit tightly from head to toe.
The butler folded his umbrella and returned to the driver’s seat. As he started the car, he glanced at the two overlapping figures in the back, then with great tact pressed a button to raise the partition.
This created a private space for the back row.
The heater was on, and the air conditioning had already been set to maximum, but Zhen Ye was still shivering.
His survival instinct drove him to keep burrowing toward the source of warmth. He wasn’t aware that he was straddling the alpha, and that above his head a hand was using a towel to dry his dripping hair.
He only felt cold, so cold, and the thing in front of him was so warm. Like a broad wall radiating heat, firmly enclosing him.
Zhen Ye had been very quiet all along, but now he began to whimper softly.
Rong Yu’s wiping motion paused. He leaned in to listen—it turned out he was calling for his mother.
The voice was thin and low, tinged with grievance, murmuring over and over, “Mom…”
When a person is in pain and falling apart, their subconscious instinctively calls for their most primal protector.
After he didn’t know how long he’d been calling, a breath came close to Zhen Ye’s ear, and the other person softly hummed “mm,” as if accepting the title of mother.
Then a hand stroked his curled back, smoothing downward from top to bottom, coaxing him gently, “Little rabbit.”
…Mom?
Zhen Ye couldn’t help but press his face against him.
Under the other’s thin sweater were thick, firm pectoral muscles, unexpectedly soft when not tensed.
Zhen Ye’s icy fingers escaped from under the blanket and fumbled their way inside the other’s sweater.
When cold met warmth, Rong Yu hissed at the chill. Frowning, he looked down to see the little rabbit hugging his waist with both arms, burying his face deep into his chest to warm up.
The omega’s lowered neck was slender and pale; with one bow of his head, Rong Yu could sink his teeth into the back of his neck and bite straight through.
Rong Yu’s eyelashes fluttered. He turned his gaze toward the window without any change in expression. At the same time, he adjusted the suppressant bracelet on his right wrist from medium to high.
But a wisp of his alpha pheromones still unavoidably seeped out.
In the cramped interior, the temperature kept rising, and the air was filled with the leather smell of the genuine-leather seats and a heavy, drowsy woody scent.
That scent made Zhen Ye dizzy and hot, as if he had stepped into a shrine devoted to an ancient deity, where beneath a black-draped idol burned a slender stick of incense.
No…
It doesn’t seem like Mom…
Then who is that?
Zhen Ye tilted his face up, blinking his sore, tired lashes to look. The streetlights whizzing past the window cast flickering light and shadow across the other person’s face.
The man had a smooth jawline, rosy lip peaks, and a tall, straight nose that traced an aloof line. But the brows and eyes above were hidden in shadow, blurred and indistinct.
This face…
The images in Zhen Ye’s mind overlapped and slowly aligned.
“Owen…”
The omega’s limp arms wearily wrapped around Rong Yu’s neck, using them to climb up his shoulders. Then with those misty, lost eyes, he asked in confusion, “Owen, why are you here?”
Rong Yu’s eyes narrowed sharply. The hand gripping Zhen Ye’s waist tightened slightly. “Who is Owen?”
“…”
Zhen Ye didn’t answer, only looking puzzled as if in thought. He was trying to determine whether he was having another erotic dream.
The other had a handsome face, but a vile temper, pressing him relentlessly, lowering his voice to ask again and again:
“Who is Owen? A classmate, a friend, a boyfriend?”
This is definitely a dream.
Because he hadn’t yet saved enough money to buy the bionic Owen.
But since it’s a dream, he could do whatever he wanted.
His toes curled restlessly. Following his daily habits, Zhen Ye groped downward and found a familiar shape inside the fine-quality trousers.
Then, Rong Yu watched as the omega, boldly through the fabric, grabbed his plump, full flesh and tried to make it stand up. At the same time, with both knees pressing into the seat, he lifted his hips and, in a dazed and practiced manner, made a downward-sitting motion—
“Snap.” The suppressant bracelet burned out.
·
The Rolls-Royce Phantom drove back into the mountain estate.
The glaring headlights flashed past the courtyard, briefly illuminating the figure waiting in the corner and also lighting up He Junhua’s eyes.
Uncle Rong is back!
He Junhua hadn’t wanted to escort Zhen Ye down the mountain, precisely so he could stay and wait for Rong Yu.
Just now he had seen the car drive out and thought Rong Yu had left, feeling a wave of disappointment; unexpectedly, the man had returned to the estate in the blink of an eye.
He Junhua began to feel a little nervous.
He had spent a whole month carefully preparing for today.
He knew that Rong Yu was abstinent and restrained, not like the wealthy alphas in their circle who indulged in pleasures—a little starlet today, a lover tomorrow.
Instead, he was compassionate and passionate about charity, often lending a hand to those in distress.
So in He Junhua’s imagination, his first encounter with Uncle Rong must also be a romantic tale of a hero saving a beauty.
They would meet in the heavy rain; he would stumble lightly by accident, and when he looked up, he would fall into Uncle Rong’s deep, dark eyes.
He would help him up, ask softly with concern, “Does it hurt?” and then invite him inside to sit for a while.
From then on, they would talk about poetry and books, flowers and birds, as if they had found their other half in the world, their souls resonating intensely.
At this thought, He Junhua’s pretty face flushed.
He still remembered his mother’s teaching. Zhong Liyun had once whispered in his ear, imparting the secret:
“An alpha’s waist is the most sensitive. When our Junjun accidentally touches it, with a little pheromone tease, won’t the chemistry between you two just spark?”
So He Junhua quietly rubbed his palms together to warm them, raising his body temperature so his sweet pheromones would diffuse faster, more alluringly.
What if… what if Uncle Rong were to personally lift him up?
He needed to be ready.
Prepared mentally and physically, He Junhua’s heart thumped as he stepped forward expectantly under his umbrella.
The Rolls-Royce Phantom came to a slow stop, only two steps from the courtyard gate.
The rainy night was deep and heavy. He Junhua stood alone; his expensive custom-made pure-white coat outlined his beautiful silhouette against the darkness.
The butler Du Rui opened a black steel-framed umbrella and pulled open the car door.
He Junhua took two more steps forward.
He held his breath, waiting for the wheelchair lift to lower the wheelchair.
But at that moment, a long leg stepped out first, steadied itself, followed by the other right leg fitted with an exoskeleton. The alpha he had been longing for so much stood up, holding onto the car door, in an unexpectedly tall and straight posture.
He Junhua’s heart trembled; he bit his lip in excitement.
He had heard that Uncle Rong usually didn’t like wearing the exoskeleton when going out, only using it sparingly when in a good mood. Yet today, surprisingly, he was wearing it.
Wasn’t this proof that their encounter was arranged by fate!
He Junhua timed it perfectly, taking one final step forward, the toe of his shoe accidentally catching on a blue brick.
“Ah…”
He fell on the dry ground under the eaves, his posture and angle graceful—it was something he had rehearsed countless times on the mat at home.
Footsteps approached.
One step, two steps.
He Junhua pressed his lips together, suppressing the rising curve, grabbed the outstretched hand, and shyly lifted his tear-glazed eyes.
“Rong—”
The voice got stuck in his throat.
Du Rui raised one eyebrow.
“Why is it you!” He Junhua, panicked and humiliated, abruptly flung his hand away as if touching something filthy.
This wasn’t what he wanted. What he wanted was…
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of something. The blood drained from He Junhua’s face in an instant, and he froze on the spot.
He saw his Uncle Rong actually carrying a person out of the car. That person was wrapped tightly in a blanket, as if exhausted from all the commotion and had fallen asleep, intimately curled up in the alpha’s broad embrace.
Uncle Rong’s way of holding him was very gentle—one hand supporting his back, the other around the bend of his knees—a perfect princess carry.
From the car door to the courtyard corridor was only a few steps. And he had deliberately put on the exoskeleton he usually refused to wear, just because he didn’t want to leave the task to someone else’s hands.
Throughout the entire process, the alpha didn’t even glance at He Junhua, completely failing to notice the poor, hurt boy lying on the ground.
He Junhua’s face was pale, his eyes full of disbelief.
How could this be?
Uncle Rong had actually gone out and brought someone back.
Didn’t he not have an omega? That person held in his arms… who on earth was it!