Chapter 103: You Make Me Sick

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: Karai

Darkness. That was the only thing Lu Yao felt. Even when he drifted into sleep, he remained uneasy, as if the ground itself kept trembling, molten heat suffocating his mouth and nose. After waking in fits and starts, slipping back into exhausted slumber only to be roused again, he finally came to, suffocated and gasping. Groggy, he dragged himself up and stumbled toward the bathroom by memory.

The dull ache and pressure in his body reminded him at last of what had happened the night before—how wildly, how recklessly the two of them had tangled. Too many times. He felt sore and raw now.

Worse still was the ache in his lower body. He half-suspected the hollow there hadn’t fully closed. Dizzy, he shuffled back to the bed, collapsed face-down, clutched the blanket, and buried his head, muttering incoherent sounds in hopes of slipping into another round of sleep. A while later, the lock clicked, footsteps drew near, and the mattress dipped beside him with a creak. Warm breath brushed his skin. “Yaoyao, you’re awake? Do you want something to eat?”

The soft clatter of dishes followed, set down nearby. Lu Yao stirred faintly, mumbling, lifting his elbow but unable to open his eyes or rise. Zhou Yunchen didn’t press him. After setting the tray aside, he noticed the dirt clinging to the soles of Lu Yao’s bare feet. He must have forgotten shoes when stumbling to the bathroom. Zhou Yunchen fetched a cloth, soaked it in warm water, and carefully wiped his feet clean.

The faint tickle made Lu Yao twitch his leg, which only tugged at the soreness in his body. He groaned, clutching the blanket tighter. Zhou Yunchen let go of his foot and patted him gently. “Cover yourself. Don’t catch a chill.”

The sharp sound of skin meeting skin jolted through Lu Yao’s head. It took him a moment to realize what it meant. His eyes flew open, meeting Zhou Yunchen’s gaze. “Where are my pants?” Only then did he realize he wasn’t wearing anything at all. His skin lay bare to the air. No wonder he had no memory of pulling clothes on in the bathroom.

“They were dirty,” Zhou Yunchen said casually, as though forgetting it had been him who stuffed that cloth into Lu Yao’s mouth the night before. “I washed your clothes, but they’re not dry yet.”

“If you’re done sleeping, have something to eat. You haven’t had much since yesterday, and especially now, you…”

Before he could finish, Lu Yao snatched the cup from his hand, wary of history repeating itself. This time, though, it was only hot milk. Lu Yao gulped it down greedily. Zhou Yunchen chuckled, already pulling tissues free. When Lu Yao drained the last drop, he reached over and wiped away the white stain from the corner of his lips.

Yesterday, he hadn’t been so kind. He had smeared it all over Lu Yao’s face with his fingers. Zhou Yunchen set the tray on his knees. Inside sat slices of bread and several bowls of unfamiliar, semi-solid pastes. “Oasis told me you used to live in this room. So I brought you here.”

Lu Yao blinked around. It took him a moment to realize this wasn’t the lab from last night but a small room he knew all too well. He had lived here alone for a year. Every detail was etched in his memory. That was why he hadn’t stumbled when fumbling his way to the bathroom in the dark.

He picked up a slice of bread, crisped on the edges from reheating, and spread it with the red paste from one bowl. “Oasis told you about this too?”

“Yes. It took me to the food stores,” Zhou Yunchen said gently, watching him nibble the bread. “Back then, they hadn’t developed nutrient solutions yet. They had to store conventional food and synthetic solids like these. Frozen, they can last for centuries. Oasis said you liked these three.”

Lu Yao finished one slice and reached for another, spreading it with the yellow paste. “Mm.”

Zhou Yunchen tilted his head. “I thought you couldn’t taste it. Nutrient solutions don’t come in flavors. But you liked these three?”

“When I lost my sense of taste and smell, it was still recent,” Lu Yao said after swallowing. “I remembered the flavors. These spreads brought them back to me.”

“And this one?” Zhou Yunchen pointed at the red bowl.

“Strawberry jam.”

He blinked, then tapped the yellow one. “And this?”

“Mango purée.”

Zhou Yunchen’s expression shifted oddly. He pointed to the last bowl, a green paste.

“Some kind of vegetable.”

“…” Zhou Yunchen hesitated.

“You want to know what they actually tasted like?”

Lu Yao stirred the green paste. “What?”

“The red is chili paste, the yellow is curry, and the green… probably wasabi.”

Lu Yao froze, bread halfway to his mouth. The last of the bread and spreads ended up in Zhou Yunchen’s stomach. The bizarre combinations forced him to down three glasses of water. He cleared the dishes himself. By the time he returned, Lu Yao had already rolled back under the blanket.

“Want to sleep more?”

“I feel awful.” Lu Yao paused. “When it was over last night, I passed out. Did you… bathe me?” He remembered waking with his body clean and dry.

“I washed you down,” Zhou Yunchen said, sitting on the bed. “But your back was hurt. I could only use a towel.”

“Mm.” Lu Yao’s eyes fluttered shut again.

“Ten more minutes,” Zhou Yunchen murmured. “Let me change your bandages.”

Assuming he meant the wounds on his back, Lu Yao slowly rolled over, letting him lift the blanket. But the medicated fingers first pressed to the bite at the back of his neck. Cool balm stung faintly against the inflamed mark. Whether from the bite itself or from his heat still lingering, his glands were swollen and tender.

After tending the temporary mark, Zhou Yunchen moved to the wounds on his back, smoothing on healing gel. Most had already scabbed, but the dark bruises along his waist stood out. Zhou Yunchen’s breath faltered. He switched ointments. The sudden coolness made Lu Yao tense and draw tight. “How could you…” He twisted his head, glaring.

He knew what this meant. After a mark, after everything, the alpha and omega bond deepened. Instinct would make him rely more, seek comfort instead of bristling like a hedgehog. In the quiet warmth, he hadn’t rushed to cover himself or change. But that didn’t mean Zhou Yunchen could touch wherever he liked. Zhou Yunchen’s fingers stayed caught between clenched muscles, his face still composed. “You’re injured here too.”

Lu Yao’s nose flushed red, his pale face darkened with helpless fury. He glared, but it made him look less dangerous, more like a small beast snapping its teeth at someone who dared touch its tail. At last, he forced out through clenched teeth, “So you do know…”

After the bandages were changed, Lu Yao closed his eyes. Before Zhou Yunchen could finish putting the medicine box away and return, Lu Yao’s exhausted mind and body had already slipped into sleep—until the second wave of his estrus dragged him awake.

This surge hit hard. Heat rolled through him, and he went from drowsy to mind-melted in an instant. Holding him, Zhou Yunchen felt the temperature and at first thought the fever came from the long journey’s swings between heat and cold or from an infected wound.

But the rush of sweet, heady omega pheromones—and the damp patch spreading on the sheets—snapped his mind clear. Lu Yao murmured in delirium, eyes reddening with tears. Zhou Yunchen scrambled up to give him a few sips of water. The semi-solid nutrient paste was a failure; after a taste or two, Lu Yao pushed his hand away.

His insides churned with discomfort. He couldn’t stomach anything and only burrowed toward the one source of safety and cool relief, pressing his face to Zhou Yunchen’s shoulder.

Kissing Lu Yao’s brow, Zhou Yunchen wrapped him close and soothed him. “It’s all right. It’s all right. I’m right here.”

When he tried to reach for the back of Lu Yao’s neck and ease him flat, Lu Yao resisted, struggling weakly and crying out, “No… Zhou Yunchen… don’t touch me. You’re making me nauseous…”

The faint mosquito-buzz of his words cut like a blade through Zhou Yunchen’s skull. A wave of vertigo struck. He reeled, mind racing to confirm whether Lu Yao had truly said that word. 

Nauseous… nauseous how… Did he make Lu Yao sick? He had thought Lu Yao liked him. Has Lu Yao ever said so? Perhaps he never had. Perhaps it had all been wishful thinking, and that wild night had been nothing but necessity—something Lu Yao could no longer bear once it ended. His thoughts spun, yet his arms locked tighter, refusing to let the treasure in his grasp slip away.

“Zhou Yunchen…” Lu Yao’s breath hitched, each syllable a pinprick to Zhou Yunchen’s aching heart. “I can’t eat…” See—he had disgusted him so much he couldn’t even eat. Lu Yao bit his lip and whispered, “I can’t… that either. It’s too big…” Wait. Too big what? Eat what—with what?

Shaking, Zhou Yunchen felt his brain working faster than it ever had. A wild, unexpected joy surged up. He fought to steady himself and breathed against Lu Yao’s ear, “I’m not big. Really.”

Lu Yao frowned. “I’ve seen you… How dare you say that? Have you compared?”

Zhou Yunchen realized the next sentence would decide his future happiness. The answer flashed through him. “I’ve compared. Of course I have.” He knew Lu Yao cared about scientific precision and logic.

“When we trained on a barren planet at the Military Academy, conditions were rough. Communal bathhouses for quick cleaning. I saw plenty.”

It was true—though “I’m not big” certainly was not. It didn’t matter; Lu Yao would never know. He wasn’t walking into an alpha bathhouse, and omega averages did run smaller. Zhou Yunchen could always lean on the numbers later. Relief had barely begun to loosen his shoulders when Lu Yao snapped, “You’re talking nonsense!” 

How was that nonsense? Before he could launch into the common AO-size-difference argument, Lu Yao pressed on, “Either you’re lying, or your sample size is inadequate, Zhou Yunchen…”

“Possibly the latter,” Zhou Yunchen conceded smoothly—then caught the implication in Lu Yao’s words. “Have you seen many?”

“The mecha combat suits pilots wear were designed by our team. To meet ergonomic standards, we scanned body data from tens of thousands of pilots.” Even half-delirious, the answers came to Lu Yao automatically.

“The data included genital measurements?”

“We also ran questionnaires—asking female pilots about preferred chest compression and male pilots whether they preferred to rest to the left or right… The last full-line refit was five years ago. I personally reviewed all the scan records and suit designs. I know the statistical variance. You exceed it by too much. You’re larger than most alphas.”

“Who else do you know is large?”

Something in his tone tripped Lu Yao’s instincts. He fell silent at once, meeting those storm-tossed eyes head-on.

Author’s Note:

Before Chief Engineer Lu, one must remain scientifically rigorous.

 

 

This Title is available for faster chapter releases through paid Patreon membership. Any proceeds go to keeping the website running. Check it out HERE.