Shen Luo had two ongoing projects, and the past few days had been overwhelmingly busy.
When time is tight, it’s easier to put away those painful memories.
Standing by the large floor-to-ceiling window, Shen Luo had just taken a shower and was now dressed in a bathrobe, his hair still dripping wet. He grabbed a towel and casually began drying his hair. His phone rang just as he reached for it, and after glancing at the screen, he answered.
“Hello?”
The voice on the other end was hesitant. “Shen-ge, I… I think I messed things up.”
The young assistant had only realized after the fact that when Ming Shao had called looking for Shen Luo, his emotions had already been on the verge of collapse.
But at the time, the assistant’s mind had been filled only with the memory of Shen Luo’s pale face when he was suffering from stomach pain. He had heard about Shen Luo and Ming Shao’s situation, and honestly, he felt Shen Luo deserved better.
Ming Shao was such a jerk! the assistant thought.
But he hadn’t expected that after deliberately ignoring those calls, Ming Shao would lose control of his pheromones in his search for Shen Luo.
It was said that something even worse had happened afterward, but Ming Shao’s parents had kept the details under wraps. The assistant couldn’t find out much, but it seemed pretty serious.
The assistant nervously explained everything to Shen Luo.
“Shen-ge, you can scold me if you want!”
Shen Luo was distracted as he listened to the phone call.
Ming Shao lost control of his pheromones while looking for him?
It seemed unbelievable.
Why would Ming Shao be looking for him? Shen Luo wasn’t a suppressant, nor was he a doctor.
Besides… wasn’t Ming Shao not interested in Betas? Even if he found him, Shen Luo wasn’t an Omega; he didn’t have pheromones, nor could he provide comfort.
Using Ming Shao’s own words, an Alpha searching for a Beta during a special period was pointless.
…What was Ming Shao thinking?
“Shen-ge?” The assistant’s voice brought Shen Luo back to reality, his tone filled with anxiety.
Shen Luo finished drying his hair and stared blankly out the window. After a moment, he replied softly, as if speaking to both the assistant and himself:
“It’s nothing. Even if he found me, it probably wouldn’t be anything important.”
The assistant continued to report on recent work, but Shen Luo only half-listened, his thoughts elsewhere.
The divorce agreement had to be postponed. He Mu, Shen Luo’s assistant, sighed as he looked out at the setting sun.
Another day had passed, and Shen-ge had already incorporated the data from Ming Shao’s side into the new version of the divorce agreement. Yet, holding the document felt like holding something too hot to touch.
At the same time, Ming Shao was also staring blankly out the window, lost in thought.
Thick bandages were wrapped around the back of the Alpha’s neck, but Ming Shao, seemingly oblivious to the pain, rolled over, causing the bandages to stain red.
The cuff hadn’t been long enough, and the gland had been narrowly spared, requiring eight stitches. The gland might end up with a long, ugly scar.
A scar Ming Shao didn’t care about. All he could think was, why hadn’t the cuff been a little longer?
Doctors had been giving him instructions, and his mother had been nodding repeatedly, but Ming Shao remained silent, staring out the window, not wanting to say a word.
His mother’s eyes were red, and she had prepared some congee, but Ming Shao hadn’t touched it.
He couldn’t eat.
Shen Luo’s company was on the thirteenth floor—not very high, but close enough to the river to offer a view of the sunset.
But he had never watched the sunset with Shen Luo.
The discomfort surged back, and Ming Shao, drowning in the afterglow of the setting sun, let his thoughts drift away, tracing the silhouette of a person in the distant clouds.
Shen Luo… Shen Luo…
The wind blew, and the clouds dispersed.
The silhouette faded too, leaving Ming Shao’s gaze fixed on emptiness.
The evergreen tree had lost its leaves, leaving behind a bare trunk, silent and lonely.
He Mu, Shen Luo’s assistant, grew more anxious. Nearly half a month had passed, and the divorce agreement was still not finalized.
Shen-ge would probably return in a few days. He Mu thought about it, then bit the bullet and took the document to the hospital.
At the hospital, He Mu peered through the glass at the door of the hospital room, standing on tiptoe to look inside.
No one was there.
He Mu was puzzled when he suddenly heard footsteps behind him.
He turned around and found himself face-to-face with an Alpha.
He Mu was startled. The Alpha’s eyes were sunken, with dark circles under them, his whole demeanor shrouded in gloom—he was nothing like the person he used to be. He Mu was shocked—how had Ming Shao ended up like this after just half a month?
“Hello, Mr. Ming,” He Mu greeted him, trying to steady his emotions.
Ming Shao nodded slightly but didn’t speak. His steps were unsteady as he walked back to the hospital room, and after just a few steps, cold sweat had already broken out on his forehead.
His gland had deteriorated two days ago, and the doctors had repeatedly emphasized the importance of staying positive.
Positive? The words went in one ear and out the other for Ming Shao.
The Alpha opened the door for He Mu, motioning for him to come in.
A breeze had picked up outside, rustling the leaves.
“Mr. Ming, are you feeling any better? It was my fault that day! I didn’t realize how urgent it was when you were looking for Shen-ge, I…” He Mu bowed deeply, then started babbling a long apology.
Silence.
After a long pause, the Alpha slowly turned his head, as if he had only just noticed He Mu.
“Can you… call him for me?” For the first time in two weeks, Ming Shao spoke, his voice hoarse, like a broken bellows.
“Huh?” He Mu was startled by Ming Shao’s voice. He didn’t know whether to open the divorce agreement or leave it closed.
“I can’t reach Luo Luo,” Ming Shao said, showing He Mu his phone screen. The chat was filled with rows of red exclamation marks, and Ming Shao explained, “I… I won’t do anything else.”
“I just want to hear his voice. I won’t bother him.”
“…Okay.”
In the end, He Mu couldn’t bear to refuse, so he dialed Shen Luo’s number.
“Beep beep beep—”
Shen Luo answered quickly, his voice a little soft. “Hello?”
He Mu glanced at the time on his phone and realized that it was probably the middle of the night where Shen Luo was.
Silence fell, and Ming Shao’s breath caught in his throat.
The moment Shen Luo’s voice sounded, He Mu clearly saw the Alpha’s eyes instantly turn red.
Tears slid down, and under the cold white hospital lights, the Alpha struggled to suppress his sobs. When he could barely hold back any longer, Ming Shao bit down on his own arm.
—Just as he had promised, he made no sound.
He didn’t disturb Shen Luo.
Shen Luo, feeling a bit disoriented, rubbed his eyes and sat up.
The phone displayed He Mu’s number, and Shen Luo frowned.
Why was He Mu calling him now?
What could be so urgent at this hour?
Remembering how flustered He Mu had been before, and recalling his boss’s repeated instructions, Shen Luo guessed that the young assistant probably needed some reassurance.
So he softened his tone and tried out a more familiar way of addressing him: “Mu Mu?”
“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” His voice was filled with concern.
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