Wen Zhiyu wore a simple white T-shirt under a thick jacket, paired with light-colored jeans. The soft sunlight cast down on him, making him look exceptionally clean and fresh.
There was none of the deliberate hostility he usually displayed, nor the fragile dishevelment of his episodes.
He kept his head slightly lowered, quietly watching the ground beneath him with a focused expression. Sunlight spilled across his profile. His hair seemed softer than usual, a few unruly strands lifted by the breeze.
Like a fox.
He was feeding a cat.
A small, scrawny calico cautiously approached the little bowl he had set on the ground, sniffing warily, occasionally lifting its head to look at him.
Wen Zhiyu didn’t touch it. He just crouched there quietly, maintaining a safe distance. In his eyes was an expression Li Qingchi had never seen before.
A gentle breeze swept across the river, carrying a chill as it passed, stirring his hair. Flecks of sunlight scattered across his face. He squinted slightly, seeming to enjoy the breeze, a faint, natural curve tugging at the corners of his mouth.
It was completely different from the smiles Li Qingchi had seen before, no calculation, no pretense, no malice or cunning. He looked sunny, bright, innocent.
If time rewound ten years, Li Qingchi might have seen this scene before, but he couldn’t remember clearly, only a vague impression lingered.
Li Qingchi watched in silence. He had seen many sides of Wen Zhiyu: the cunning, the hypocritical, the furious, the disheveled, the falsely carefree, even the tearful and pitiful…
But never this, unguarded, wholly immersed in the moment, radiating a quiet, warm glow.
An emotion he had never felt before quietly took root in his heart. At the same time, he felt… confusion.
Just then, the calico seemed to have had its fill, or perhaps it was startled by Li Qingchi’s presence. It darted into the nearby bushes and vanished.
Wen Zhiyu stood up, brushing crumbs off his hands. He turned, looking to see if Li Qingchi had arrived.
The moment he turned and lifted his gaze, he spotted Li Qingchi standing quietly in the shade of a tree not far away.
Their eyes met.
A silent exchange.
Neither looked away.
The lingering smile on Wen Zhiyu’s face hadn’t yet faded, and his eyes held a trace of dazed bewilderment, as if he’d just snapped back to reality.
That hint of confusion lingered in his eyes for only two seconds. Then, almost instinctively, the moment he saw Li Qingchi, the residual smile was quickly reined in, replaced by his usual grin, tinged with a hint of teasing and cunning.
“Dr. Li.” Wen Zhiyu’s voice rang out, back to that airy, rising tone. “Here so early, can’t wait to have a chat with me?” He walked toward Li Qingchi.
Li Qingchi watched Wen Zhiyu approach, watched the “Wen-style smile” on his face, and felt an indescribable sensation stir in his chest.
The silhouette in the sunlight from moments ago and this prickly, sharp-eyed beta before him overlapped and separated in his mind.
He suppressed the unfamiliar emotions churning within him, keeping his face calm.
“Mm.” Li Qingchi responded flatly, watching Wen Zhiyu stop in front of him. “You’re punctual too.” His gaze swept over Wen Zhiyu’s empty hands, and he asked, as if casually, “What were you doing just now?”
Wen Zhiyu followed his gaze, glanced down at his own hands, shrugged, and kept his smile unchanged: “Nothing much. Just killing time, waiting for some hard-to-book big-shot doctor.” He deftly avoided the topic of feeding the cat, seemingly unwilling to discuss that version of himself.
“Shall we go? Dr. Li, find a place to sit and talk? The scenery here is nice, good for discussing… serious matters?” He deliberately emphasized the last two words, as if mocking the nature of their relationship.
Li Qingchi gave him a look and nodded slightly. “Fine.”
They walked side by side toward the observation deck, the setting sun stretching their shadows long across the ground.
The afterglow of the sunset bathed the wooden bench on the observation deck in a warm golden hue. Li Qingchi and Wen Zhiyu sat at opposite ends, the distance between them like an invisible boundary.
Silence. Only the sound of the wind brushing across the river.
Wen Zhiyu leaned back against the bench, relaxed, his gaze fixed on the scattered lights beginning to glow on the opposite bank, as if admiring the view, or as if waiting for Li Qingchi to speak.
Li Qingchi wasn’t looking at the scenery. His eyes rested on Wen Zhiyu’s profile. After a moment, he took a deep breath, his thoughts sharpening.
“Wen Zhiyu.” Li Qingchi broke the silence first. “The coercion between us ends here.”
It wasn’t the “chat” he’d mentioned earlier, it sounded more like a declaration.
Wen Zhiyu turned his head to look at him, his smile fading considerably. Surprise flickered in his eyes before quickly returning to normal. He raised an eyebrow slightly, drawing out his tone: “Dr. Li… finally had enough? Or have you found something to use against me, or something to shut me up?”
He habitually threw out questions and guesses to take control of the conversation.
“Neither,” Li Qingchi said calmly. “I just don’t like the feeling of being coerced, of having no choice.” It was that simple.
This was the first time they’d discussed this issue peacefully, no hostility, no defensiveness or probing.
Wen Zhiyu: “So you’re here today to inform me that the game is over, and you’re unilaterally withdrawing? And then what? You’re ready to face whatever bomb I might throw, then walk away scot-free? Or… do you have some other card up your sleeve?”
“No other cards,” Li Qingchi said. “You know how important that document is to me, I can’t give it up. So I just came to talk to you, to see if you’d agree.”
Since it was a conversation, there had to be conditions. He stated his: “Regarding your treatment, I can provide any resources you need, including top-tier medical teams, the latest experimental drugs, and long-term, stable pheromone support. Even, if you think it’s necessary to find an alpha partner with high compatibility who’s willing to cooperate, I can arrange all of that for you. I can ensure you get the best arrangements until you recover.” His tone was earnest.
Li Qingchi emphasized again: “Or any other request beyond that, as long as you name it, as long as it’s for your illness, I’ll agree to it.”
Time seemed to freeze at that moment.
“Until recovery?” Wen Zhiyu said. “I’m afraid I’ll be dead before I ever reach recovery.”
That was an unknown variable.
Wen Zhiyu looked at him, studying the expression on his face. After a long moment, he curved his lips into a smile. “Li Qingchi, is this charity? Pity? Or just getting rid of me?” For Li Qingchi, dealing with a despicable, selfish blackmailer like him, there were clearly better ways, yet he’d chosen this one. Could it really be his last resort after being backed into a corner?
He seemed to feel his three possibilities weren’t comprehensive enough, so he added: “Or is it that you think this way you can dispose of me like a nuisance?”
Though to Li Qingchi, he truly was a nuisance.
Li Qingchi didn’t answer.
Wen Zhiyu continued, though he didn’t show any strong emotion: “End the coercion, then arrange a highly compatible partner for me? Do you think that as long as you give me enough medical resources, I’ll be grateful, take your favors, and roll far away, never bothering you again?”
When Li Qingchi had said “The coercive relationship ends here” in that resolute tone, what had he been thinking? Did he believe those conditions would definitely make Wen Zhiyu agree, or had he held no hope at all? Even he himself wasn’t sure.
“Li Qingchi, you’re a doctor. You should know very well that my body only accepts your pheromones and rejects everyone else. No matter how good the resources you arrange, no matter how compatible the alpha you find, to me they’re all poison, they’ll only make me die faster. So, your so-called ‘any request’ actually only has one option: you.”
Li Qingchi knew the answer but asked anyway: “So you don’t agree?”
Wen Zhiyu countered: “Do you think I would?”
The answer was clear. This “talk” had been completely unnecessary. He’d originally thought Li Qingchi had found some information or leverage to counter him, but contrary to his expectations, the other man had nothing, only these hollow conditions.
“Li Qingchi.” Wen Zhiyu skipped past that topic and asked another question. “I’m curious, why do you care so much about my coercion? I only asked you to treat my illness. It’s not like I made you do anything outrageous. Why are you so resistant? As a doctor, this shouldn’t be a big deal for you, right?”
“So why? You could just treat me as a patient, release a bit of pheromone to deal with me when I have an episode. Why have you been holding a grudge all this time? Is it the act of being coerced itself that bothers you, or the person doing the coercing?”
The implication hung in the air.
“You’re overthinking it. It’s because I hate you too much, too much to even share a room with you.” Li Qingchi’s tone dropped another degree colder. “And do you think you’re someone easy to handle?”
Wen Zhiyu seemingly didn’t take his earlier remark about hatred to heart, instead answering the latter question: “I think I’m pretty easy to handle, innocent, naive, adorable, and kind. And why would you need to ‘handle’ me at all?” His tone still lilted upward.
Because you showed up with a despicable attitude, coercing me with leverage over me. Li Qingchi thought this but didn’t say it out loud.
He’d said similar things many times before.
Just as he finished speaking, a light drizzle began to fall, as if heaven itself disapproved of Wen Zhiyu’s words. By the time they realized it was raining, the downpour had grown heavier.
Rain suddenly falling from what had been a clear sky, that truly was unpredictable.
They bought an umbrella and, huddled under the small transparent canopy, took shelter in a pavilion where they could escape the rain.
Both of them were soaked through. Li Qingchi glanced at Wen Zhiyu, he was even more drenched, as if he hadn’t been holding the umbrella at all despite doing exactly that.
Wen Zhiyu ran a hand through his hair, the water droplets clumping together and clinging to the strands.
Li Qingchi said, “Sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?” Wen Zhiyu asked, puzzled.
“I didn’t check the weather before asking you out,” Li Qingchi said. “I didn’t know it would suddenly turn so bad.”
“Li Qingchi.” Wen Zhiyu smiled. “If I can share an umbrella with you, even rain is good weather.”