Chapter 114: I Can’t Have Kids
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: Karai
Zhou Yunchen tossed and turned all night. The next morning, he was still struggling with whether to ask Lu Yao about the events of the previous night. Yet, when he came downstairs, he saw Lu Yao already sitting upright on the living room sofa, the mysterious metal briefcase placed directly on the table before him.
As soon as Zhou Yunchen stepped down, Lu Yao looked up, his expression calm but his gaze focused, as if waiting for Zhou Yunchen to arrive.
Zhou Yunchen’s steps paused. “You got up early today.”
“I have to go to work soon,” Lu Yao replied. Zhou Yunchen glanced at the clock. “You still have two hours before work. Do you want some breakfast? I can make it for you.”
“I’ve already taken a nutrition supplement,” Lu Yao’s reply cut off any attempt by Zhou Yunchen to avoid the matter. “I cleared time because I have something to discuss with you.”
“What is it?”
Lu Yao lowered his head, entering numeric and biometric passwords. As he went through the complex unlocking process, sweat nearly broke out on Zhou Yunchen’s back. Click—the lock opened. Lu Yao prepared to lift the lid, but when he looked up, Zhou Yunchen was still standing in place. He slightly furrowed his brow and said seriously, “Zhou Yunchen, come here.”
Zhou Yunchen nearly wanted to shift back into the snow leopard, but he forced himself to approach and, under Lu Yao’s direction, sat down. Lu Yao opened the briefcase, revealing its contents—a single paper document.
A pristine white sheet lay within a deep black foam insert. The characters on the cover still glimmered faintly with ink. Several bold words formed the document’s title: Technical Ethics Agreement Regarding the XXX Laboratory Incident. The laboratory name in the middle had been blacked out.
“Technical ethics agreement?” Zhou Yunchen was briefly confused. Had Lu Yao’s mecha experiments encountered an ethical problem? But how did this relate to what happened yesterday?
Lu Yao flipped through a few pages, then paused and pushed one toward Zhou Yunchen. “This is my personal matter. Yesterday afternoon, it wasn’t that I was unwilling to accept full marking—I simply could not.”
He spoke seriously, without any emotion or erotic undertone. Zhou Yunchen’s gaze scanned the document and gradually stiffened. It was an agreement related to CROSS Laboratory:
— Chimera-human gene splicing experiments…
— Infection experiments…
— Experimental subjects of Type B showed no abnormal behavior, non-contagious, essentially confirmed to be safe for society…
— The risk of gene contamination exceeds 60%.
— The probability of genetic inheritance exceeds 95%.
— Conclusion: According to human genetic experiment ethics regulations, to protect the human gene pool, it is recommended that Type B subjects halt any reproductive plans.
“Both parties voluntarily comply with this agreement. Any violation will be enforced with the assistance of a third party…” Zhou Yunchen muttered, reading the last line. The cold, data-filled language made his heart tremble, and his voice shook slightly. “So you’re saying because…”
“All survivors of CROSS Laboratory human experiments signed this genetic ethics agreement. It is classified by the Federation Intelligence Bureau; electronic records cannot be accessed. I can only show you this paper copy,” Lu Yao said. “I am one of them. According to the agreement, I cannot reproduce by any means, so I cannot accept full marking.”
Full marking wasn’t just about the culmination of connection—it involved liquid exchange, not something achievable through a layer of rubber.
Furthermore, after full marking, an omega’s probability of becoming pregnant exceeds 90%. Lu Yao could not gamble with that probability.
He looked at Zhou Yunchen’s furrowed brow and continued, “If you choose to stay with me, you too will have no children. I think we need to discuss this clearly.”
Zhou Yunchen stared at the stark black-on-white text, lips pressed tightly, as if willing the paper to burn a hole through its surface. Lu Yao remained silent, leaving the choice to Zhou Yunchen.
He felt Chang Jian’s prediction had failed. Zhou Yunchen had clearly not accepted this calmly. Those dark eyes were full of complex, deep emotions that Lu Yao could barely read—he could only judge them as sadness.
This shouldn’t be the case. Chang Jian, having read countless people, was usually infallible. As Mo Feng said, he may appear gentle and kind, but is actually scheming beneath. How could he misjudge Zhou Yunchen? Zhou Yunchen shouldn’t feel sad over a piece of paper.
After a while, Lu Yao noticed Zhou Yunchen’s lips move, but no sound came out at first. Only after several attempts did Lu Yao hear his low, hoarse voice slowly ask, “Did it hurt?”
“What?” Lu Yao thought he misheard.
“The human experiments at CROSS Laboratory… did it hurt?” Zhou Yunchen asked. Years ago, when he first saw Lu Yao at the lab, his body was covered in scars from fights. He could not tell which were fresh or remnants of old experiments. He had never had the means to uncover this top-secret matter. Now, seeing the strings of numbers and data in the ethics agreement, his heart ached.
Lu Yao’s mind froze. How did Zhou Yunchen leap from an ethics agreement to this question? Should he answer truthfully? Would the answer affect Zhou Yunchen’s decision regarding their discussion about offspring?
After thinking for a long time, Lu Yao’s mind offered only one solution: honesty. He wasn’t Chang Jian; he could not manipulate his words. “It was… okay.”
Zhou Yunchen’s brow deepened, as if he did not believe the brief description. Lu Yao added, “Don’t be misled by media depictions of evil scientists cutting open subjects. CROSS Laboratory rarely operated on live subjects. They used electromagnetic frequencies to simulate chimera effects, attempting to infect human DNA, and tried particle surgeries on some subjects, but none succeeded to my knowledge… what I mean is…”
Under Zhou Yunchen’s unwavering gaze, Lu Yao’s voice gradually softened, returning to the main point: “It was… okay. Not too painful. Especially in hindsight, time dulls the memory of past pain. This physiological mechanism applies to me as well. The pheromone-induced stress reaction was an accident, unrelated to those experiments.”
Zhou Yunchen said, “Little liar.”
Everyone knew the pain endured during DNA surgery for adults could not be relieved by any anesthesia. Lu Yao’s attempt to downplay it with theory could not convince Zhou Yunchen. He hadn’t expected Lu Yao to start lying so convincingly. Who had corrupted him?
Lu Yao: “???”
What had he lied to Zhou Yunchen about? Until today, the two of them had never discussed this technical ethics agreement or any reproductive plans. A lie only counts if it is spoken—but they had never said anything to each other. “Zhou Yunchen, explain this to me… um!”
Suddenly, Lu Yao’s lips were blocked by Zhou Yunchen leaning in. The sweet, soft warmth instantly dissolved all the previous doubts and caution. Zhou Yunchen held the back of Lu Yao’s head, and Lu Yao’s whole body collapsed uncontrollably into his embrace.
Lu Yao didn’t understand how it had happened. He and Zhou Yunchen had been sitting seriously on two separate sofas. In an instant, the world spun, and when their lips parted, Lu Yao was gasping, sitting on Zhou Yunchen’s lap, arms encircled by him.
“Forget it. You’re clever. If you want to trick me, trick me,” Zhou Yunchen murmured, burying his face in Lu Yao’s shoulder. The heat of his breath made Lu Yao’s skin tingle. “If you don’t want to talk about the past, we won’t talk about it.”
“This is our first discussion about having children,” Lu Yao reminded him.
“Indeed,” Zhou Yunchen seemed to smile, and Lu Yao could even feel the vibrations of his chest against him. “I never dared imagine what you would be like raising a child. Even now, I still can’t picture it.”
Lu Yao patted his back, almost giving Zhou Yunchen the illusion that he was comforting a clueless child.
“So whether we have children in the future doesn’t matter. It’s not important.”
“Really?”
“Really. Though, there are two other concerns.”
Two? How did it become two? “What are they?”
Zhou Yunchen straightened, scrutinizing Lu Yao’s expression up close. “Yaoyao, tell me honestly—did those experiments leave you with any physical aftereffects beyond psychological ones?”
“My genes did change a bit, just like the agreement says, but it has never affected my daily life.”
Zhou Yunchen exhaled, relieved.
“And the other thing?”
“The other thing?” Zhou Yunchen raised an eyebrow. “It involves why we can’t do full marking. In that case, bite me a few more times. Others will smell my alpha pheromones and know you have an alpha.”
If Lu Yao hadn’t been rushing to work, this probably would have been another prelude to a dizzying, tangled session.
Lu Yao hurriedly tidied his clothes. Zhou Yunchen saw him to the door. Like a sentinel stone, he stood straight, watching Lu Yao’s flight device depart, only then turning slowly back inside.
He looked at the briefcase on the table, thought for a moment, and, following Lu Yao’s instructions, secured it safely before calling Zhao Minghe.
Zhao Minghe, just drifting off to sleep, was jolted awake by his superior’s call. He was still groggy when Zhou Yunchen asked to contact several genetic doctors.
“What specifically?”
Zhou Yunchen mentioned a few words, and Zhao Minghe instantly became fully alert. “General, are you sure?”
Zhou Yunchen answered with calm determination.
First Research Base
This was Lu Yao’s first time at the base since being rescued. Most of the staff had heard something about the incident during the Falcon Hawk exercises. Seeing Lu Yao unharmed, they were visibly relieved and joyful. Ordinary technicians gave him respectful glances, and a few senior engineers attempted to approach him—but at three meters distance, Lu Yao’s alpha pheromones, exuding possessiveness and pride, caused them to falter.
Lu Yao proceeded smoothly to the NTL assembly site. A young intern with tight curls looked up excitedly, wanting to greet him, but the strong guaiacwood scent from Lu Yao nearly made his legs buckle. Thankfully, Shen Zishen grabbed his arm just in time. Lu Yao paused. “Verrièr, you’re here so early?”
The young intern nodded. “Yes. I’m in my internship year. I applied with the school to stay directly at the First Research Base.”
Lu Yao patted his hair and looked at Shen Zishen. “How’s the assembly going?”
“Everything is progressing steadily according to plan,” Shen Zishen said. “Chief Engineer Lu, Mr. Chang is waiting for you.”
Lu Yao looked up and saw Chang Jian and Mo Feng sitting in a corner of the assembly hall. He asked Shen Zishen to send the assembly detail files to his personal AI assistant, then walked over to Chang Jian and Mo Feng.
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