Mu Yan raised his eyes to look at Tan Qiyu.
The doctor’s lips were pressed into a thin line, his expression serious and earnest, showing no sign of fear under Mu Yan’s steady gaze.
However, Tan Qiyu’s heart was not as calm as he appeared. The way his fingers kept nervously rubbing against the paper betrayed the Beta’s inner anxiety and hesitation: he was terrified that Mu Yan might refuse.
Is this what one expects from a doctor dedicated to research? Mu Yan could see through his forced composure at a single glance.
He lowered his eyelids to hide the flash of light in his eyes. He slowly and methodically smoothed out his cuffs before speaking in a leisurely tone. “I need to know the reason.”
The Alpha’s tone was consistently rigid. With the aura of someone long-tempered in the business arena, what was meant to be a request sounded more like an imperative command that could not be refused. He reverted briefly to that decisive, master-of-strategy business genius; if one wanted to obtain something from his hands, they had to pay a higher price.
If Ruan Shi had been here, he would surely have grasped Mu Yan’s intent immediately. If Tan Qiyu wanted his cooperation, he had to clearly explain Ruan Nian’s condition before Mu Yan would consider the trade.
Tan Qiyu had grown up with Ruan Shi. Although he wasn’t as sharp as Ruan Shi, he could vaguely sense Mu Yan’s motives.
However, this matter was far from being as simple as a medical report.
This was not just Ruan Nian’s privacy; it was also a bone-deep, unforgettable trauma that Tan Qiyu and Ruan Shi regretted for the rest of their lives.
Even though much time had passed, and even Ruan Nian himself had actively dived into a new life, Tan Qiyu still struggled to let it go.
Over the years, he had tried many methods to heal the sequelae left behind by that accident. But he was only an ordinary Beta. No matter how many case files he reviewed or how much data he analyzed, he could never personally experience the specific state of Ruan Nian’s pheromones.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried switching to other Alpha or Omega doctors who could perceive pheromones, but Ruan Nian would only accept his treatment. Even when Ruan Shi pleaded with him, the frail, thin young man in the hospital bed would not yield a single step.
This trust was so heavy that Tan Qiyu dared not slack off for a single moment.
In the end, Ruan Nian’s glands were reactivated, but his pheromones had mutated.
That mutation report was like a heavy blow to the head. Whether it was Ruan Nian, Tan Qiyu, or Ruan Shi, none of them could ever return to the past.
But Mu Yan’s appearance brought a faint ray of hope.
In just two days, Ruan Nian’s pheromones had actually changed. Although the change was so small it was almost imperceptible, Tan Qiyu’s hope was rekindled.
98 percent compatibility, top-tier Alpha pheromones. Perhaps Mu Yan was a new solution worth the risk.
Tan Qiyu felt he had no other choice.
He could only pin his hopes on this sole variable before him.
Having made up his mind, Tan Qiyu stood up and told Mu Yan to wait a moment. He stepped out of the office and called Ruan Shi.
A long while later, Tan Qiyu returned to the office.
Their gazes met again. The Beta seemed to have composed his emotions; Mu Yan could see nothing through his expression.
Conversely, Tan Qiyu tried to find any flicker of leaked emotion on Mu Yan’s face, but it was in vain.
The man before him was powerful, steady, and resolute. He was the youngest power-holder in the history of the Mu Yu Group, possessing top-tier Alpha pheromones and terrifying control.
Perhaps, he could only believe in the miracle of 98 percent pheromone compatibility and gamble that the strange S-factor activity report was true.
The two stared at each other for a long time. Eventually, unsurprisingly, Tan Qiyu was the one to break, sighing with a sense of defeat.
“Ruan Nian’s personality is a bit off. You must have noticed, right?”
Seeing Mu Yan give a silent nod, Tan Qiyu took a deep breath, trying to keep himself calm. After a brief pause, he continued, as if he had made a great resolution.
“When Niannian was young, something happened. It caused his personality to change. Ruan Shi and I were exhausted trying to deal with the aftermath and neglected him.” His voice was very soft, laced with bone-deep self-reproach and regret.
Tan Qiyu ultimately hid a few things. But his next words made it impossible for Mu Yan to probe further.
“Do you know how we realized something was wrong?”
“The year he turned eighteen, his heat actually came, and he felt it himself.”
“But he waited until the very last moment to tell Ruan Shi and me that he was a little bit uncomfortable.”
“Ruan Shi and I told him to hurry to the hospital, and he agreed readily. But when we arrived at Meng Star, we found him soaking in the home bathtub. The bathroom was filled with high-potency Omega suppressants. I couldn’t even count them.”
“He endured it all by himself, without a word, for an entire day and night.”
“When Ruan Shi went over to pick him up, he discovered that the bottom of the bathtub was full of ice cubes.”
“Do you know what the first thing he said was when he woke up after resuscitation?”
“He said, ‘I’m sorry’.”
This doctor, who could hold a scalpel steady after an eight-hour surgery, had a voice that was slightly trembling as he spoke the final words. The logic behind them became messy and unclear, like the unconscious mutterings of a man lost in thought.
“He has always been so good. We all thought so. But how could we have thought that…”
There were no stars tonight. The darkness outside the window felt like an eternal night. The lights in the room drew a clear line between brightness and shadow; things caught in the darkness were frozen in time, forever unable to cross over to the other side of the light.
Mu Yan recalled the young man in his mind.
He was like a music box that had been carefully protected. Because it had been dropped once, it was placed into a glass cabinet with fear and trembling. The lid was closed, and for a long time, it could not make a sound, forced to stay quietly on the velvet cloth, beginning a long and arduous healing process.
A clever craftsman had replaced the parts and wiped the music box until it was spotless, looking as clean as new. The music box started singing again, and everyone thought it was repaired.
The music box’s sound was pleasant, leading everyone to believe that every note was obedient, well-behaved, and fitting.
And so, slowly, no one wanted to take the music box down from the high cabinet to admire it. People would just listen to one tune through the glass cabinet door and leave, feeling satisfied.
Everyone was immersed in it, and no one realized that the music box could only play that single tune.
He hid under the music box’s sturdy shell. He calmly accepted all kinds of emotions, and he repeated the same sound over and over. “It’s okay, it’s fine.”
Mu Yan had once been deceived by the scent of sweet milk, believing the young man’s nature was truly like that, as gentle and peaceful as his exterior.
But how could that be? He was only twenty years old.
Backed by the Ruan family, he held the capital to look down upon everyone else, his potential sharp and piercing. He should be unleashing his talents, proudly showing the world his beautiful feathers.
But he was so obedient and submissive. It was as if he had no temper. Even when treated roughly, he only emitted weak whimpers. Once he gathered enough strength, he would return to his original self.
Perhaps he had realized this himself, but he would rather imprison himself in a self-made prison than let others sacrifice even a fraction more for him.
“It’s okay, it’s fine.”
He would be fine. Everything is fine.
What was he supposed to do with this Omega?
Mu Yan’s heart was in chaos.
The slightly red corners of his eyes, the him who proposed marriage, the him painting on the grass, the him being stiff in the car, the him smiling in the courtyard, the him sleeping in the studio.
Those images played back like a slideshow. In a trance, it was as if the Omega was walking toward him, step by step, out of the painting.
He crossed the empty corridor in the sunset, the dim, yellow sunlight filtering through the colored windows and falling upon him. The light and shadow on the young man’s face shifted, obscuring his emotions, but those eyes, filled with stars, were always bright.
Yet, in that corridor, fractured by the multicolored light, his shadow was as black as ink. No matter how the young man walked or smiled, that shadow never moved an inch.
The smiling face in the sunlight, the frozen black shadow. Which one was truly him?
Perhaps neither of them was him.
It turned out that he had never really understood this person at all.