The quest to cure her “blood phobia” had put Chi Mu through hell. For several days straight, her appetite had vanished and her sleep was fitful; every time she closed her eyes, the gore-slicked scenes from the ER flashed before her. It was psychological and physical torture.
She had initially assumed desensitization would only take a few days. She gritted her teeth and endured it, but after a week of vomiting that left her three pounds lighter, Chi Mu finally called Nie Yijun and gave her a blistering earful.
On the other end of the line, Nie Yijun listened in silence without talking back. Only after Chi Mu finished her tirade did she speak: “Thank you for your hard work.”
The response left Chi Mu feeling deflated, her explosive output had hit a soft wall of cotton.
“Let me rest for a few days,” Chi Mu groaned, lying powerless on the bed in the hospital’s on-call room. “I don’t want to see another drop of blood. If this keeps up, I’m going to die. Nie Yijun, get over here and rescue me.”
“How should I rescue you?” Nie Yijun asked.
“How else? A kiss,” Chi Mu sniffled. Her nose felt even more congested lately, and she couldn’t smell a thing. “Wait, Nie Yijun, when is your period every month?”
The other end went silent for a beat. Then: “Right around now.”
“Holy crap!” Chi Mu flipped over. “I was wondering why I felt so miserable—can’t eat, can’t drink, can’t sleep. I thought I was just traumatized by the blood turns out your ‘condition’ is acting up!”
Nie Yijun seemed at a loss. “I’m sorry.”
“Ugh!” Chi Mu sighed. “Get over here tonight! We’re finding a way to swap back!”
Chi Mu tossed her phone aside and pulled the blanket over her head, desperate for a nap. But her head throbbed and her stomach churned; sleep was a distant luxury. It was pure agony.
Knock, knock, knock. Someone was at the door.
“Enter,” Chi Mu croaked.
“Dr. Nie,” a soft voice called out from the doorway.
Chi Mu peeked out; it was Lu Nianyun.
“Hmm?”
“I just bought some fruit salad,” Lu Nianyun said, entering the room. “I noticed you haven’t been eating much lately. I thought maybe your appetite was off. Whenever I feel like that, a little fruit salad helps.”
Chi Mu truly had zero appetite, but she never turned down a kindness from an Omega. She sat up and forced a faint smile. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Lu Nianyun pulled a chair to the bedside, opened the container, and held it out with both hands. “Here, eat.”
Chi Mu’s headache was vicious. The moment she sat up, the world spun as if she were about to topple over. She shook her head, trying to clear the vertigo, but it wouldn’t budge.
Not wanting Lu Nianyun to catch on, she took a fork and tried a piece of fruit. “It’s good.”
Before she could finish the sentence, Chi Mu felt a sudden warmth gush out below. She dropped the fork, her face contorting. “I think my period just started. Do you have a-”
“Oh!” Lu Nianyun reacted instantly and nodded. “Yes, yes, I do. Let me go grab one, wait for me.”
She set the fruit down and hurried out. Chi Mu scrambled up to check the bedsheets—thankfully, they were still clean and bolted for the restroom in the lounge.
Sure enough, it had arrived.
Lu Nianyun returned quickly and slid the necessary supplies through the door crack. By the time Chi Mu finished cleaning up and stepped out, she was so dizzy she could barely stand.
“Nie Yijun!” Lu Nianyun caught her. “Are you okay?”
Chi Mu bit her lip and shook her head. Her head was pounding as if it were about to explode. She had a low pain tolerance, and if she hadn’t been so worried about losing face in front of an Omega, she would have been sobbing and complaining long ago.
“Come on, let’s go see my father,” Lu Nianyun said, slinging Chi Mu’s arm over her shoulder.
“Huh?” Chi Mu waved her off. “No, no need. It’s just, it’s just.”
“Genetic Pheromone Disorder Syndrome,” Lu Nianyun finished for her.
Chi Mu froze, her brain failing to process the words.
“My father is your primary physician. I, I accidentally saw your diagnostic records,” Lu Nianyun admitted. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Ah.” Chi Mu panted slightly. The pain was so intense it was blurring her reality. “Can your father help me?”
“I don’t know, but he should have a way,” Lu Nianyun helped her toward the door. “I’ve researched this condition. Usually, it’s manageable, but certain triggers can cause a flare-up. Since your period started, it must have triggered an episode.”
“I see.” Chi Mu muttered.
She gritted her teeth, wishing she could strangle Nie Yijun. That big fat liar! She had claimed the episodes only involved a loss of appetite and low energy, she never mentioned this soul-crushing headache!
This was Chi Mu’s first time in the Director’s office. Being hauled in by Lu Nianyun, she was too far gone to care about dignity. A soft groan escaped her lips; she was biting back the urge to scream.
“Oh dear,” Director Lu gasped, startled. “How did it get this bad?”
In his memory, Nie Yijun’s flare-ups were usually so subtle you could hardly tell she was ill.
“Headache,” Chi Mu managed to squeeze out.
“Headaches are the primary symptom,” Director Lu said. “A flare-up of your condition is most prominent in the head. Xiao Yun, go get a dose of Solianamine.”
“On it!” Lu Nianyun turned and ran out of the office.
Director Lu placed a cushion down. “Lie down.”
Chi Mu slumped onto the sofa and closed her eyes. “Thanks, Dean.”
“Don’t just thank me with words,” the Director replied. “You need to take action.”
“What?” Chi Mu opened her eyes, though the pain made the Director’s face look like a distorted smudge.
Director Lu gestured with his chin. “Show me your gland.”
Chi Mu rolled up her lab coat sleeve to expose the gland on her wrist. Director Lu pressed a stethoscope against it.
“30 beats per minute. The frequency is too slow, but at least it hasn’t dropped further,” the Director sighed, setting the stethoscope aside. “Even if it’s stable, it’s dangerously low. When exactly are you going to have the surgery?”
Chi Mu blinked. “Surgery can cure it?”
Director Lu shook his head helplessly. “I know you have your doubts, but if you keep stalling, things will only get worse.”
Chi Mu was lost. Could it be cured or not? And Nie Yijun, why the hell was she refusing treatment?
Another wave of pain crashed over her. Chi Mu closed her eyes, refusing to think. God, it hurts. Nie Yijun, you absolute idiot!
“Achoo! Achoo!”
Nie Yijun turned her head and sneezed twice. She grabbed a couple of tissues from the desk, rubbed her nose, and glanced up at the central AC vent. Is the air too cold? My nose feels itchy.
She checked the time on her computer; she was four minutes past the end of her shift. She saved her document and shut down the PC.
The others in the office were still working, but Nie Yijun had always been a bit of a maverick here—as long as she finished her work, no one bothered her, and her current workload was light anyway.
Chi Mu was likely having a flare-up today; she needed to get there early to figure out how to swap back.
Just as she stepped out of the office, she heard a heavy thump.
Then, a chorus of gasps.
Nie Yijun spun around. Qin Zizhen, who sat to the right of her station, had collapsed on the floor. Nie Yijun rushed back in. “Don’t touch her yet!”
Pan Yuyao, who was kneeling to help Qin Zizhen up, froze and pulled her hands back. “I think she hit her head directly on the floor.”
“Call an ambulance,” Nie Yijun commanded. “Everyone move back, don’t block the airflow.”
She knelt beside Qin Zizhen. The woman’s face was pale and her lips were turning purple. She reached out to check the pulse; it was still relatively normal.
Qin Zizhen was wearing a standard anti-bite collar. Nie Yijun reached out and unlatched it.
“Oh my.” A collective gasp rippled through the room. An Alpha opening an Omega’s anti-bite collar was, by all social standards, an act of extreme impropriety.
“What’s going on? What happened!” Team Leader Han hurried out from the inner office. When she saw what Nie Yijun was doing, she frowned just like the others. “Chi Mu, what do you think you’re doing?”
“She’s likely suffering from pheromone poisoning caused by an incompatible anti-bite collar,” Nie Yijun explained calmly. “Could someone please gather her ID and belongings? I’m taking her to the hospital immediately; she needs urgent care.”
The staff exchanged bewildered glances, the technical terms flying right over their heads. Team Leader Han was the first to snap into action. She clapped her hands. “Pan Yuyao, quick! Get her things ready!”
Pan Yuyao, who had just finished her call, looked dazed. “I already called for an ambulance.”
“An ambulance won’t be fast enough,” Nie Yijun said as she scooped Qin Zizhen up in a bridal carry and headed for the door. “Does anyone know her blood type?”
Team Leader Han followed close behind, helping to support Qin Zizhen’s weight. “Her info is on the company portal. I’ll look it up in a second!”
The group hurried out of the office. Nie Yijun laid Qin Zizhen across the back seat of the car while Pan Yuyao arrived with the girl’s bag. Together, they sped toward the hospital.
Nie Yijun tried calling Chi Mu, but the call didn’t go through. Instead, she dialed the ER main desk directly, briefing them on Qin Zizhen’s condition and instructing them to have plasma ready.
The moment they arrived, Qin Zizhen was rushed into the ER. Nie Yijun’s diagnosis had been spot on, and the patient was stabilized in no time.
Wiping cold sweat from her brow, Team Leader Han patted Nie Yijun on the shoulder. “We really owe it all to you.”
Nie Yijun shook her head. “It was the right thing to do.”
On the way over, Team Leader Han had contacted Qin Zizhen’s family. When the girl’s mother arrived, she tearfully grasped Han’s hands in gratitude. Han pointed toward Nie Yijun. “If you want to thank someone, thank her. This is Chi Mu, our new colleague.”
The mother turned to Nie Yijun and took her hands. “Chi Mu, is it? Thank you, thank you so much. Truly.”
“Please, don’t mention it,” Nie Yijun replied. “We’re colleagues. She’s out of danger now, but she shouldn’t wear just any anti-bite collar in the future. She needs a professional fitting at the hospital first.”
Just then, the phone in Nie Yijun’s pocket vibrated. She pulled it out; it was Chi Mu.
She told Team Leader Han she had something to attend to, and after receiving a nod of approval, she hurried out of the ER lobby.
She answered the call as she walked. “Are you in the office? I’m almost there.”
“No,” Chi Mu’s voice came through, weak and drained. “I’m in the parking lot. My head is killing me, and I can’t drive. Just come straight here.”
Nie Yijun ran toward the parking lot and quickly located the car.
Chi Mu was slumped in the driver’s seat with the door wide open, one leg dangling outside. Nie Yijun leaned in, ducked her head, and pressed a kiss firmly against Chi Mu’s lips.