Fu Yu sat down opposite Ruan Luo.
The black stone table clashed with his ink-black suit, making him look cool, gloomy, and unapproachable.
He had only been seated for a minute when fine beads of cold sweat broke out on Ruan Luo’s small, upturned nose.
Fu Yu took off his jacket and tossed it to the maid behind him. “It’s a bit warm. I’m taking off my coat, you don’t mind, do you?”
The maid caught it clumsily, her face impassive, but her eyes brimming with deep relief. She even exchanged a silent glance with the maid across from her.
Their eyes sparkled as they communicated telepathically:
“Mr. Fu is being considerate of Mr. Ruan, isn’t he? Are you hot? Well, I’m not.”
“I think so. I really hope this kind of thoughtfulness lasts…”
“I don’t mind, Mr. Fu.” Ruan Luo was completely unaware that the maids were having such a fervent silent conversation about him.
Instead, his world was utterly silent, so quiet that he felt a bit awkward. To hide his unease, he gave Fu Yu a soft smile.
Ruan Luo’s skin was very fair, and his features were of an extreme, gentle beauty- so gentle they seemed fragile.
When he wasn’t smiling, he exuded a sense of aloofness and lofty isolation. But when he did, even if the smile didn’t reach his eyes, it was as refreshing as a spring breeze, leaving one mesmerized by the fleeting warmth.
Even Fu Yu was no exception.
Fu Yu was an S+ grade Alpha, standing at the pinnacle of the genetic chain. He was immune to the charms of all omegas. Only an omega with a high enough rank and an extremely compatible genetic match could avoid his intense rejection.
But mere tolerance didn’t mean he would be interested. He had never experienced such a moment where a single smile or glance from an omega could so easily capture his attention until he met Ruan Luo.
The kitchen staff worked efficiently, and the food was soon reheated.
Fu Yu began peeling the lobster.
Ruan Luo lifted the glass of hot milk, taking small sips. After a moment, he finally regained his composure and got straight to the point. “Mr. Fu, I’m sorry.”
For Fu Yu, the apology was a sudden, devastating blow.
His hand jerked, and the lobster claw pierced the flesh between his thumb and index finger. Heaven knows that same spot had been injured a few days ago when he crushed a coffee cup. Just as the old wound had healed, a new one struck.
Fu Yu pulled an alcohol wipe from the table and discreetly dabbed the blood from the web of his thumb, careful not to soil the freshly peeled lobster.
“How are you going to apologize?” he asked, his voice deliberately softened.
As he spoke, he gently pushed a plate piled high with clean lobster meat toward Ruan Luo. “Mind eating lobster I peeled?”
Ruan Luo stared at the meat, momentarily stunned. His thin lips parted slightly. “…Thank you.”
Fu Yu lowered his voice another octave, adopting the kind of deep, smooth tone he usually detested on late-night radio. “Did you do something today? Break a vase? Or maybe pluck my orchids on the third-floor balcony bald?”
Fu Yu knew none of it was true. He just wanted Ruan Luo to relax. “Smash whatever you want, pluck whatever you like. As long as you don’t hurt yourself, you can tear this place apart, floor by floor.”
As he spoke, he mixed a sauce for Ruan Luo, pushed it toward him, and looked up with a slight curl of his lips. “Try my homemade sauce. I bet you’ll like it.”
Ruan Luo glanced at Fu Yu. Under his expectant gaze, he picked up his white jade chopsticks, dipped a piece of lobster meat into the sauce, and brought it to his thin lips, taking a gentle bite.
After finishing the shrimp, Ruan Luo wiped his mouth with a napkin. “It’s delicious. Mr. Fu, I didn’t break the vase, nor did I pluck the orchids bald. I just felt guilty for hiding from you that day. I want you to know that I didn’t do it because I dislike you.”
The gloom that had clouded Fu Yu’s mood since he transmigrated into the book finally saw a sliver of light. Just as the warmth of spring was about to bloom, Ruan Luo added, “At least, not until my memories return, I don’t dislike you.”
Fu Yu’s movements froze. The half-bloomed flower withered.
After a brief silence, he said softly, “Don’t feel guilty. Don’t force yourself. Ruan Luo, I’m giving you the right to push me away. But I also want you to know…”
I want you to know that “I” will never hurt you again.
Even if you stay sick, or even if one day you recover, “I” will never hurt you again. The “Fu Yu” you hate will never reappear.
And I… I have already made protecting you my responsibility.
But in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to say such presumptuous words. He only said, “But I want you to know… I will never get angry with you, no matter what you do.”
That night, Fu Yu finally agreed to stay at home.
The next day, Saturday, was Ruan Luo’s fifth day back and also Fu Yu’s day off. The weather was uncooperative, with a steady drizzle falling.
For most of the day, Fu Yu shut himself in his study, unwilling to run into Ruan Luo. It wasn’t until three or four in the afternoon that he came downstairs, rubbing his brow with one hand and carrying a fresh cup of coffee in the other, intending to stretch his legs.
According to what he’d learned from the maid, Ruan Luo usually stayed in his small bedroom at this time and rarely came out.
To his surprise, as soon as he stepped downstairs, he saw Ruan Luo standing on the steps of the main entrance, facing the living room. He was wearing beige cotton loungewear. Fu Yu instinctively turned to go back upstairs, but he noticed Ruan Luo wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings; he was lost in thought.
He sat on the steps, his head beneath the obsidian-and-gold-inlaid eaves. Outside the eaves, the fine rain fell steadily, blurring the view with a misty haze.
Ruan Luo leaned back on his arms, his slender swan-like neck tilted upward.
It was unclear whether he was gazing at the sky or the rain falling beyond the gate.
Fu Yu stopped in his tracks, narrowing his eyes as he looked in the same direction Ruan Luo was facing.
He saw the path leading from the deep courtyard to the villa’s exit, flanked on both sides by a lush, green banana grove.
The rain was light, but the wind was fierce.
The rain, carrying a chill that seeped into the bone, kicked up sprays of water as it fell, soaking Ruan Luo’s hair, his arms, and… his pale, fragile ankles.
Fu Yu watched him for a full minute.
The misty rain wove the world outside the door into an ethereal landscape painting, and Ruan Luo’s slender back was the only sharp, tangible reality within it.
Yet, though so clear and real, so close at hand, he exuded a palpable aura of detachment- one that offered no hope, steeped in a profound weariness of the world.
He was as distant as a vivid hallucination, more remote than the endless rain falling at the edge of the sky. Fu Yu held his breath, afraid to step forward, as if the figure before him would vanish at the slightest touch.
Just then, a maid hurried toward Ruan Luo, a blanket cradled in her arms.
As she passed Fu Yu, he stopped her. “Don’t.”
The maid paused, startled.
Fu Yu took a sip of his cold black coffee. “Don’t disturb him. He doesn’t like it.”
“Yes, sir,” the maid replied.
“Go brew a pot of ginger soup,” Fu Yu added.
The maid murmured another “Yes, sir” and hurried to the kitchen.
Fu Yu remained where he stood, ten meters away, his gaze fixed on Ruan Luo’s back.
His mind replayed Song Qi’s warning over and over-
“If you truly care about him, pay close attention to his moods. His brain is severely deficient in serotonin; he’s already at the level of major depression.”
I never paid attention before, so it’s hard to say how long this has been going on. But you must take this very seriously.
You might notice some negative emotions in him. Physically, he’ll likely suffer from a loss of appetite and varying degrees of body aches. Emotionally, he’ll experience unexplained sadness, become excessively quiet, and withdraw from people.
It starts with a loss of curiosity, then a loss of the basic expectations one should have for life, then a loss of interest in everything, and finally, he won’t even have the strength to breathe… If you have the patience to give him more companionship, he might still manage to scrape by. If you don’t, just let go. It’s better for you, and better for him.
The maid had finished preparing the ginger soup.
Wisps of steam rose from the pot. It was reheated several times as it began to cool, keeping the soup warm.
Fu Yu sat on the living room sofa directly facing Ruan Luo, clutching a coffee cup in his hand. For as long as Ruan Luo watched the rain, Fu Yu watched Ruan Luo, lost in thought.
He didn’t move until it was time for dinner.
Ruan Luo remained completely unaware that someone had been watching him all afternoon.
When night fell, Ruan Luo went to his room to rest. He had already changed into his pajamas and was about to turn off the lights when there was a soft knock on the door.
Ruan Luo let him in, feeling a bit awkward.
But when he saw Fu Yu, he couldn’t help but smile.
Fu Yu was carrying a large wooden bucket with one hand. It was filled with hot water that smelled strongly of medicinal herbs. A large towel was draped over his shoulder.
If not for his aura of authority, he would have been mistaken for a bathhouse scrub attendant.
Fu Yu’s tone was tentative. “Auntie said you got caught in the rain this afternoon.”
As he spoke, Ruan Luo gazed back at him politely, his eyes misty with water.
“Auntie also said the injury on your ankle got wet in the rain, and it could easily get infected,” Fu Yu continued. “Can I help you clean it and apply some medicine?”
Ruan Luo’s back stiffened. “It’s really not a big deal. If it must be done, I… I can do it myself.”
Fu Yu waved his hand dismissively, his tone stern. “Your fingers are injured too. This solution is irritating; it can only be used to wash your feet, not your hands. Otherwise, it’ll do more harm than good.”
Ruan Luo had never heard of a medicine that could be used on feet but not on hands. Besides, logically, both his ankle and fingertips had external injuries. They would be treated with the same medicine, so why would they need different washes?
He hesitated, then looked up at the broad-shouldered, long-legged man standing in the doorway, his head nearly touching the doorframe. Though Fu Yu was a formidable person, his eyes now held the expectant gaze of a large wolfdog.
Ruan Luo’s breath hitched, and a strange feeling swept through him.
Fu Yu seemed to care for him too much. What kind of relationship did they even have?
It was so strange that he found himself instinctively resisting someone who treated him so well.
Ruan Luo dazed for a moment, forcing down the conditioned fear that surged through him.
Hiding his slightly trembling fingers behind his back, he nodded. “Alright then.”
Under Fu Yu’s steady gaze, Ruan Luo braced himself and sat on the edge of the bed.
The moment he sat down, Fu Yu closed the distance with his long legs. He easily placed the large wooden bucket on the floor and knelt directly at Ruan Luo’s feet.
Ruan Luo’s delicate Adam’s apple bobbed. He felt like a fish on a chopping block.
He tried to protest one last time. “Mr. Fu, maybe I should just do it myself…”
The words had barely left his lips when he felt a light touch on his ankle, sending a shiver through his entire body.
Fu Yu, half-kneeling at his feet, immediately stopped and looked up.
The dark intensity of his gaze met Ruan Luo’s eyes, sending a jolt of fear through his heart. Ruan Luo involuntarily leaned back, his fingers clenching the bedsheets tightly beneath his sleeves.
Fu Yu softened his voice, speaking gently as if soothing a child. “Rainwater contains sulfur dioxide and nitrogen dioxide, which can form a weak acid. If you don’t treat this, it will really get infected. I’m not lying to you.”
He placed his hand back on the hem of Ruan Luo’s pajama pants. “Your pants are a bit long. I need to roll them up a little. I’m just rolling up your pant legs, I won’t do anything else. Don’t be afraid. Just trust me for a moment, okay?”