Chapter 4 "What's wrong with your throat?" ...
What's wrong with your throat?
Ji Qingyu cleared his throat but didn't speak; he didn't know what to say.
Fu Han asked casually, then added, "Too excited about getting married? Isn't that exactly what you wanted to achieve?"
Ji Qingyu was stunned for a moment. He looked stiffly into Fu Han's eyes. Fu Han was expressionless, his lips were tight, and his face was extremely indifferent.
Ji Qingyu didn't understand how Fu Han came to this conclusion. He thought for a moment and wanted to explain, but his thoughts were drawn back to the hospital bed, and his glands began to ache again.
The photographer was already waiting for them downstairs, followed by reporters. The two entered the elevator one after the other. In this small, enclosed space, there was practically nowhere to hide. The air seemed to freeze. Fu Han's voice came from above, "Straighten your back and smile more nicely."
“Oh…” Ji Qingyu replied sullenly.
As soon as they stepped out of the elevator, Fu Han had already put his arm around his shoulder.
Ji Qingyu lowered his head, his hair obscuring his vision. He forced a smile, a trembling one, but the smile wouldn't stay on his lips, and finally he gave up.
Ji Qingyu's gaze began to wander again. He thought of Fu Han when he was eighteen. It seemed like he was never short of people. Beautiful omegas fluttered around him like butterflies, and none of them stayed for long.
In high school, Ji Qingyu had only one thing in common with Fu Han: they both liked to go to places with few people. Once, as he walked along a side path to the classroom, he saw Fu Han holding an omega's neck, contemplating how to make his move. The effortless, predatory posture of Fu Han sent chills down Ji Qingyu's spine.
The omega trembled all over, his breathing was suppressed and long. Ji Qingyu was a little scared. His teeth chattered and his legs went weak. He could hardly move his feet.
Ji Qingyu originally wanted to leave silently, but before she could even step back, Fu Han's gaze swept over her with a sense of weariness.
Ji Qingyu was so frightened that she stood still.
Fu Han stared at him, and after a few seconds, he suddenly revealed a very wicked smile. He just looked at him like that and slowly bit the omega's neck.
Ji Qingyu's neck also started to hurt. A sticky sound reached Ji Qingyu's ears. He stepped back, stepped on a branch, and with a crisp crack, the omega asked in a panic, "What was that sound?"
Ji Qingyu practically fled in panic.
That was the first time he directly confronted an alpha's desire. He saw the pitiful omega pinned beneath him and seemed to see his own fate reflected in it.
The flash of the camera pulled him back to reality. A reporter rushed past the security cordon and pounced on him, shoving a microphone directly in his face.
Before he could even ask, Fu Han pulled him into his arms. Fu Han's hand rested on the back of his head, and his face was pressed against Fu Han's unbuttoned shirt, so close he could hear the other's heartbeat.
The heat and the tremor came at the same time, and the buzzing made Ji Qingyu's cheeks burn.
Seemingly worried that Ji Qingyu would be scared, Fu Han patted him on the head twice and gently rubbed it. He felt that Fu Han patting him was no different from patting a puppy.
"Don't be afraid," Fu Han comforted her.
Ji Qingyu wasn't actually afraid; he just felt a little embarrassed because he had to perform in front of everyone, and he didn't want others to use him as fuel for Ji Ran and Fu Han's relationship.
The flash kept going off.
The reporter then turned their attention to Fu Han: "Were you introduced by Ji Ran? I heard you used to be closer to Ji Ran?"
“My fiancée and I were high school classmates, but we lost contact after graduation. I feel very lucky that our relationship can continue now.”
So you had feelings for him back then?
"...Yes, I liked him a lot back then."
Fu Han moved his hand from his head to his waist, applying a bit too much pressure. He avoided talking about Ji Ran's question, blocking the reporters' view as he led him away.
Ji Qingyu reached out to cover the gauze around his neck. He knew he should stay with Fu Han and try his best to play his role as a dutiful new wife, but he had never been a good actor.
As he was thinking, Fu Han placed his hand on his neck and pushed him into the car before he was exposed to the camera. The heat was fleeting, followed by a tingling sensation that terrified him.
Sure enough, he was all smiles when answering the reporter's questions, but as soon as he got in the car, Fu Han immediately shook him off.
"You're such a coward," Fu Han said, leaning back in his seat. "Hurry up and finish filming. I have things to take care of."
"Fu Han, can I ask you a question?" Ji Qingyu tried her best to calm herself down and mustered up her courage to speak.
Fu Han remained silent for half a second, then frowned with some impatience, lowered his eyes to look at him, and slowly said, "Ask."
"Why did you agree to marry me?" Ji Qingyu's voice was still hoarse, so gloomy and low that even he himself felt annoyed.
Fu Han didn't spend much time thinking; he laughed sarcastically.
“A business marriage, as long as it brings benefits, does it make a difference whether it's you or anyone else? You're not still having some unrealistic dream, are you?” Fu Han looked at him with amusement. “But you actually dared to marry me with a permanent mark on your hand. You really are still as unrepentant as you were back then.”
Repent? He did nothing wrong back then, so how can he repent?
Ji Qingyu was too lazy to listen to Fu Han's ramblings. He always ignored what he didn't like to hear. However, Fu Han grabbed Ji Qingyu's chin in an unfriendly tone. He used a little force, and Ji Qingyu's eyes reddened with pain. Fu Han's tone became even colder: "After all, it doesn't matter who you marry, does it?"
Ji Qingyu blinked, and then fell silent.
Fu Han's statement is correct and makes sense.
The car was quiet. Fu Han rested his chin on his hand and looked out the window, while Ji Qingyu almost buried her head in her collar.
They had no feelings for each other, and the forced pairing was only due to the interests of both families.
It was unbearable; the air felt like it was freezing. Ji Qingyu tugged at her clothes and huddled in the corner of the car.
The wedding photos were taken quickly and smoothly. The two of them were like puppets being manipulated by the photographer. After the shoot, Fu Han asked the driver to take Ji Qingyu home, while he lit a cigarette by the roadside.
Ji Qingyu watched Fu Han's figure grow smaller and smaller as he walked away. He had changed back into his trench coat, looking like a street model in a movie magazine, with long, slender legs and a wild yet noble charm that extended from his face to his fingertips.
Ji Qingyu returned home, collapsed onto the bed, and stared at the empty ceiling.
He held the wedding photos sent by the photographer in his hand. The makeup artist made him look like he was eighteen years old, and the two of them looked like a perfect couple.
He lay down for a while, then got up and put the photos into the album.
The photo album was too old, and the plastic wrap was already torn. He sat in the small and somewhat shabby one-bedroom apartment for a while, then opened a drawer to find a replacement gauze, which he disinfected with iodine before changing it.
He changed his dressing alone in front of the mirror, wincing in pain.
The intensive etiquette lessons over the past few days left him sore all over, and his wounds showed no signs of healing, still bleeding. He lay on the sofa watching TV and drifted off to sleep.
In the dream, his eighteen-year-old self sat beside him. Ji Qingyu looked at him, and he looked at Ji Qingyu.
The young man was full of vigor, and when he smiled, shallow dimples appeared at the corners of his mouth. He was gentle and soft. Leaning back on the sofa, I asked him, "How's your songwriting going? Has anyone liked it? Has anyone loved you?"
"Hmm?" Ji Qingyu answered him slowly, still half asleep, "Don't worry, I'm still trying."
Eighteen-year-old Ji Qingyu stared at him, her eyes calm as she asked, "How can you lie to a child like me? Didn't you see that my throat was cut open?"
Ji Qingyu stammered a little. The person opposite him was clearly healthy and unharmed: "No, no. You're fine, you're very good, your voice is fine, it's not damaged."
He sat up in fright, his back soaked with cold sweat.
The shadows cast by the window fell on the bedsheets, like white illusions framed by frame. He stared at the moon by the window, stunned for a long time. It was the same moon, and once someone had leaned against the window, listening to him sing.
He smashed the glass window, and blood gushed from his hand. The pain brought him to his senses, and he climbed out of bed, stumbling and clutching his hand as he searched for a bandage. Just then, the phone rang, and the caller ID showed Ji Ran.
That's true. He's the only one who calls him at all hours. Even after you've poured medicine down his throat, he still enjoys playing these little brother-son games like pretend.
Ji Qingyu usually cooperates, but today he was really not in the mood, so he hung up.
The phone kept ringing, so he put it down, leaned against the window, and stared at the moths circling in the sky until dawn broke, when the phone finally stopped ringing.
The weather was bad that day; it started raining in the morning and the drizzle continued. The doctor came and told him that Lin Ying's condition had become somewhat unstable and that visits would be prohibited for a period of time, so Ji Qingyu should hurry over.
So Ji Qingyu put on a brown jacket, straightened her collar, ate breakfast at the steamed bun shop downstairs, drank two cups of instant coffee, and then rushed over.
He bought two bunches of daisies at the subway station entrance, but when he got to the hospital entrance, he found himself unbearably hot, so he took off his clothes and was left wearing only a short-sleeved shirt.
He looked at Lin Ying, the electrocardiogram jumping up and down beside him. He didn't have anything to say, but he asked the doctor to let him be disinfected so he could hold his mother's hand.
The doctor stared at him for a while, then sighed.
"Okay, three minutes, just three minutes, then you have to come out immediately." The doctor stopped Ji Qingyu. "You can't bring flowers in. The patient's resistance is low right now, and bringing these things in could cause shock."
Ji Qingyu nodded. The doctor sprayed a large amount of disinfectant on him, then he was pushed inside, and the door closed again.
Ji Qingyu walked over and took Lin Ying's hand. He was a little nervous and decided to talk about the happy things he could think of, such as his students planning to put on a stage play with him, that he was writing songs again, and that he was getting married.
"Although that person has a bad temper, he's not unreasonable. Hmm... He's very rich, so he can live in a big house in the future. I feel that life is getting better little by little."
Ji Qingyu tried to imitate his eighteen-year-old self, smiling even more brightly. He looked down at Lin Ying's hands, where there were many calluses on Lin Ying's fingers from working with fish.
He counted them one by one, and then said, "Mom, please wake up soon."
The thin hand moved tremblingly, as if it were an illusion, and Ji Qingyu was stunned.
The three minutes passed quickly. The doctor knocked on the glass, urging him to leave. He left reluctantly, and at the door, he said to the doctor with a hint of surprise, "Did you see that? Her hand just moved."
The doctor seemed to feel sorry for him and smiled in agreement, replying with a touch of sympathy, "Yes, Mr. Ji, once she gets through this period, she will improve."
"Mr. Ji, your wedding is tomorrow, right? Congratulations on your marriage."
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