Two days later - Thursday
Huang Ruofei's POV:
It's finally Thursday.
I've been counting down the days—which is ridiculous, I know, but Wenli is the one person I can be completely honest with. The one person who knows all my secrets, all my weaknesses, all the parts of myself I hide from the rest of the world.
My soulmate, in every way that matters except the literal one.
My phone vibrates just as I'm leaving the office, and I pull it out to find a message from Lexin.
妹妹❤️: Found the person. It was Luo Qingyue.
I stare at the screen.
The words don't surprise me—deep down, I already knew. My heart has been screaming it for days, even as my mind tried to rationalize it away. But seeing it in writing, having it confirmed...
I'm not surprised.
I'm angry.
Or am I? The emotion churning in my chest is too complex to name. Anger, yes, but also something that feels dangerously close to relief. To vindication. Like some part of me is satisfied that it was him and not anyone else.
It could have been anyone, I think, fingers tightening around my phone. But it turned out to be him.
I pocket my phone and push through the café door, forcing my expression into something neutral.
The familiar warmth and coffee-scented air washes over me, and I scan the interior automatically.
There—by the window. A young man with sharp features and an elegance that comes from years of careful cultivation. Even sitting casually, he radiates a quiet authority.
My heart settles at the sight of him.
I cross the café and pat his shoulder. He turns, and his face lights up with genuine joy.
"Long time no see, soulmate." The smile that spreads across my face is real, unguarded in a way I rarely allow.
"Too long," Wenli agrees, gesturing to the seat across from him.
I settle into the chair and catch the waiter's attention. "Strawberry milkshake, please."
When I turn back, I can't resist the opportunity. "So," I say, leaning forward with a smirk. "Are you even able to walk?"
Wenli's face flushes immediately, and I feel a surge of satisfaction. "Are you seriously asking me that?"
"Well, you know how Chenyu is." I keep my tone innocent. "So protective. Always finding ways to keep you from leaving. Some methods more... creative than others."
"I hate you," Wenli mutters, but the deepening blush gives him away.
"You love me," I correct, grinning.
He glares at me for a moment, then his expression shifts into something more calculating. "Fine. My turn." He leans back in his seat, that familiar knowing look spreading across his face. "What about you? Can you walk?"
The question hits like a physical blow, and I feel heat flood my own face before I can stop it.
Wenli's smirk widens into a full grin. "Oh, so it's like that, is it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I say stiffly, but we both know I'm lying.
"Sure you don't." His tone is gleeful now. "So whoever this mystery person is, they're rough enough to leave you sore for days? Interesting."
"Anyway," he says quickly, clearly wanting to change the subject from his own husband. "You? Anything interesting happen while I was away?"
The question hangs in the air between us, weighted with possibility.
Everything, I think. Everything happened.
"Well... yes," I say carefully. "But let's leave that for later. I heard you're returning to Korea next week. Is that true?"
Wenli's expression shifts, becoming more serious. "Babe, have I ever lied to you?"
We both burst out laughing at the absurdity—Wenli has definitely lied to me before, usually about stupid things like whether he ate the last of my favorite snacks.
The waiter arrives with my milkshake, and we compose ourselves.
I take a sip, letting the sweet strawberry flavor ground me, before dropping my next bomb. "I've been thinking about coming with you."
Wenli's eyebrows shoot up. "Really? I remember when I asked you last time, you didn't want to go. What made you change your mind?"
I mix my milkshake slowly, watching the pink liquid swirl. "Remember my fiancé?"
"You mean Qingyue?" Something shifts in Wenli's expression—wariness, maybe, or concern. "Yeah, I remember."
I take another sip, mostly to delay having to say the words out loud. "Let's just say that a small accident happened while you were away."
"A small accident," Wenli repeats flatly. "Define 'small accident.'"
So I tell him.
I tell him about the traitor, about being shot, about Mark and the drug. I tell him about waking up with missing memories and a body that felt like it had been thoroughly used. I tell him about the moon tattoo, the only clear detail in a sea of hazy fragments.
I tell him about James and my suspicions, about asking Lexin to investigate, about the confirmation that came just an hour ago.
And I tell him about the strange pull in my chest, the warmth that flares whenever I think of Qingyue, the sense of loss that I can't explain but can't ignore.
By the time I finish, my milkshake is half-gone and Wenli looks like he's about to commit murder.
"Where the fuck is he!?" Wenli actually starts to stand, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I need to get rid of him right now."
"Calm down, calm down!" I reach across the table to grab his wrist, pulling him back into his seat. "It's not that bad, right?"
The look he gives me could melt steel.
"Why are you so calm!?" His voice rises despite his obvious attempt to keep it down. "That fucking jerk literally drugged and slept with you, and you're completely okay with it!"
"First," I say, keeping my own voice level, "he didn't drug me—the Zhang family did that. He was... helping me." The word feels insufficient for what I half-remember, but it's the closest I can get. "Second... he wasn't that bad."
"YOU—!" Wenli catches himself as several café patrons turn to look at us. He takes a visible breath and lowers his voice to a hiss. "Did you forget that you're an omega? What if you get pregnant?"
The question sends a chill through me, even though I've been carefully not thinking about that possibility.
"Impossible," I say firmly. "You know how long it took my dad to get pregnant. I don't think I'll be different."
"You sure?" Wenli's expression is deeply skeptical.
"What do you think?"
He leans forward, and his next words are deliberate, almost clinical. "Well, auntie is an alpha, but your fiancé is a dominant alpha. Plus, you were in heat. There's a much bigger chance of you getting pregnant under those circumstances."
I open my mouth to object—to argue that the statistics still don't support it, that recessive omegas like me and my father are essentially infertile without significant medical intervention—but the waiter chooses that moment to appear at our table.
"Can I get you anything else?"
Wenli orders green tea without looking away from me. I, on impulse I don't quite understand, order lemon cake.
The moment the waiter leaves, Wenli turns that skeptical look back on me. "Since when do you like eating lemon? I remember you hate it."
Do I hate lemon?
I try to remember, but the thought feels slippery, like I'm grasping at something that keeps sliding away. "I don't know," I admit. "I just... want to eat lemon right now."
The craving has been persistent for the last two days. Lemon in my water, lemon tea, anything with that sharp, bright flavor. I'd attributed it to stress, but now Wenli is looking at me like I've just confirmed his worst suspicions.
He sighs and pulls out his phone, and I watch as his entire demeanor softens. Even his posture changes, becoming less aggressive, more... content.
I smirk despite the heavy conversation we've just had. "Already missing him?"
"Yes." Wenli doesn't even pretend otherwise, still scrolling through what I assume are messages from Chenyu. "It's been long since I talked to him."
They got married last year, and they've barely been apart since. It's disgustingly sweet, and I definitely don't feel a pang of jealousy at how easy it seems for them. How uncomplicated.
Well, as uncomplicated as a relationship that started with kidnapping and forced transformation can be.
I still don't like Chenyu. Probably never will. But I can't deny that he makes Wenli happy.
"Would you like to stay at my place tonight?" I ask, partly to get his attention off his phone and partly because I genuinely want the company.
"Sure, doesn't sound so bad."
I'm about to reach across the table and physically take his phone away when the waiter returns with our order.
My eyes light up at the sight of the lemon cake. It looks perfect—pale yellow sponge with what appears to be a light cream frosting, decorated with thin slices of candied lemon.
Wenli finally sets his phone down and picks up his tea, taking a careful sip. His expression shifts to pleased surprise. "Actually good."
When it comes to tea, Wenli is impossibly picky. This is high praise.
I cut into the cake with my fork and take a bite.
The flavor explodes across my tongue—sweet and creamy and absolutely perfect. The cake is light, almost melting, and the frosting has just the right amount of richness. I can feel the tension in my shoulders easing with each bite.
"Mind if I try?" Wenli is already reaching for his fork.
I slide the plate closer to him. "Go ahead. It's pretty sweet."
He takes a small piece and puts it in his mouth.
His face immediately twists into an expression of pure disgust. "Fuck! How can you eat something so sour!? And you're calling it sweet? Liar!"
I stare at him, fork frozen halfway to my mouth. "What?"
"It's incredibly sour!" Wenli is already reaching for his tea, taking a long drink to wash away the taste. "Like, painfully sour. How are you—"
He stops mid-sentence, and I watch understanding dawn across his face.
Oh no.
"Waiter!" Wenli calls out, his voice urgent enough that the young man hurries over immediately. "What are the ingredients in this cake?"
The waiter looks confused but rattles them off: "Flour, cornstarch, baking powder, salt, butter, vegetable oil, sugar, lemon zest, milk, yogurt, and lemon juice. We use less sugar than traditional recipes to highlight the sour taste."
Highlight the sour taste.
The words echo in my head as the waiter walks away.
I look down at the cake on my plate. The cake that tastes sweet to me. Perfectly, deliciously sweet.
"We need to check," Wenli says, and his voice has gone serious in a way that makes my stomach clench.
Because we both know what this means.
Taste changes are one of the earliest signs of pregnancy in omegas. The body's chemistry shifts, making certain flavors more or less appealing. And one of the most common changes is perceiving sour foods as sweet.
No, I think desperately. It's not possible. I'm a recessive omega. The chances are—
But the cake on my plate argues otherwise. As does the sudden craving for lemon. As does the persistent soreness that hasn't quite faded even after five days.
"It could be nothing," I say, but the words sound hollow even to me.
"Ruofei." Wenli reaches across the table and takes my hand. "When was the last time you took a pregnancy test?"
"I've never needed to," I say numbly. "I'm on suppressants. I'm—I'm recessive. This doesn't happen to people like me."
"Apparently it does when you're bonded to a dominant alpha and spend a night in heat with him."
Bonded.
The word sends a jolt through me. I bring my free hand up to the back of my neck, fingers finding the spot that's been unusually tender. I'd assumed it was just a hickey, just Qingyue being possessive during sex.
But what if it's more than that?
"We need to get you tested," Wenli says firmly. "Today. Right now."
"I can't be pregnant." The words come out almost pleading. "I'm leaving for Korea with you next week. I'm—this isn't supposed to happen."
"I know, babe." Wenli squeezes my hand. "But we need to know for sure. Because if you are pregnant..." He trails off, but I can fill in the blanks.
If I'm pregnant and I leave for Korea—leave Qingyue, leave the alpha who might be the father—the symptoms will get worse. Much worse. Pregnancy symptoms intensify when the omega is separated from their alpha, especially in the early stages.
It could hurt the baby. Could hurt me.
Could complicate everything in ways I'm not ready to handle.
"I'll take the test," I hear myself say. "But I'm not pregnant. I can't be."
Wenli's expression is sympathetic but skeptical. "Okay, babe. We'll see."