Chapter 60: Pale Face, Iron Will
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: Karai
Zhou Yunchen’s hands were trembling. He put down the knife and used his fingers to peel the remaining half of an orange, its surface uneven and pockmarked from being sliced. The General’s hands were normally steady. But now, sitting beside Lu Yao’s hospital bed, listening to the raspy rhythm of Lu Yao’s breathing, even as he tried to control his expression, unease leaked from his fingertips.
At this moment, Zhou Yunchen resembled a dangerous criminal awaiting the death sentence; even though the outcome seemed inevitable, he still wanted to hear the final word from the only judge as quickly as possible.
Knowing in advance didn’t make the waiting easier—it only weighed heavier on his chest and lungs. Tiny droplets of juice splashed as Zhou Yunchen pressed the peel; the sharp sourness and the peel’s bitterness filled the air.
It was a juicy blood orange. The red-orange juice trickled down Zhou Yunchen’s fingers, settling in the crevices of his knuckles. His left hand bore the marks of Lu Yao’s bite. The doctor had treated the wounds, but since each injury was small and scattered, they weren’t bandaged. Now, the acidic orange juice stung against the scabbed bite, the pain shooting into the bone. Zhou Yunchen merely frowned lightly, but his hands continued working.
After the doctor confirmed that Lu Yao was now stable and would not be triggered by an alpha, Zhou Yunchen remained at his post, unwilling to leave. Almost thirteen hours passed. On a nearby small table, blueberries, mulberries, strawberries, peeled and deseeded grapes, and cubed watermelon had been prepared. Originally, there had also been apples and pears, but peeled apples and pears oxidized quickly, and since Lu Yao hadn’t shown any sign of waking, Zhou Yunchen had to deal with them himself.
When Lu Yao slowly woke, the first thing to reach his nose was a sharp, sweet scent. Lemon? Orange? Grapefruit? He couldn’t remember the exact fruit, unable to distinguish the names. His heavy eyelids finally lifted after rolling his eyes a few times. He blinked and saw the hospital ceiling above, then turned toward the source of the citrus scent.
A silent, mountain-like figure came into view first. Zhou Yunchen’s military jacket was gone; he now wore only a black military-standard shirt, sleeves rolled up, showing smooth, muscular forearms. His large, strong hands were… peeling an orange. He lowered his head, peeling meticulously, seemingly unaware that Lu Yao had awakened and was watching him.
Two-thirds of the orange peel had been removed. His strength was unsteady, and the outer layer of the fruit was mashed, with pale red juice spreading across his palm. The juice was red-orange, mixed with the pulp, yet none of it drew attention like the wound on Zhou Yunchen’s hand. Besides his unwashed shirt and hand injuries, his eyes were bloodshot, and a faint stubble covered his chin.
If Li Mo’s roughness and untidiness could be attributed to wandering the stars over the past twenty years, then Zhou Yunchen’s break from his usual neatness—what could it be from? Yesterday’s events?
Lu Yao glanced at the floating display, slowly recalling the moments before losing his memory. Li Mo had told him that the alpha who marked him back then was Zhou Yunchen. Lu Yao was surprised, and certain details Li Mo mentioned puzzled him, but they weren’t enough to trigger a breakdown. Until Zhou Yunchen appeared.
Seeing that familiar figure, Lu Yao’s rational and emotional faculties hadn’t had time to process. Yet his olfactory instincts detected the guaiacwood pheromones, identical to those from years ago. His memory defenses crumbled; every sense flooded him like a torrent. He felt trapped once again in the dark, blood-soaked lab.
He tried to flee, but in the final moment, he was severely injured, fell, and was hit by the unstoppable wave of estrus. Despair and pain drowned him. An alpha appeared at his side. At that time, Lu Yao could neither see nor hear, and any touch from a stranger only felt like restraint and fear. Guaiacwood pheromones, alpha presence, blood, pain, and marking intertwined like a fine web, pulling him taut. Eventually, that alpha rescued him.
Elaine had emphasized this during therapy, hoping to separate the alpha’s actions from Lu Yao’s fear, but with very limited effect. Perhaps Lu Yao’s attending doctor considered the olfactory stimulator an essential aid, leaving it on him even while unconscious.
Now, even though Zhou Yunchen deliberately restrained his pheromones, Lu Yao could still sense traces of guaiacwood in the air. The strongest scent, however, came from citrus juice in the air—sharp and sour, masking most of the guaiacwood scent, preventing another traumatic response.
Zhou Yunchen finished peeling an orange, tore off the stem, split it into four segments, and placed them on the porcelain plate filled with fruit. Tilting his head, he glanced at the orange. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a change in the color near the bed—black had deepened slightly.
He instinctively looked, meeting Lu Yao’s ice-blue eyes. The omega lay sideways, leaning against the pillow, hair dark and messy behind him. Zhou Yunchen froze.
Lu Yao saw the General’s eyes widen momentarily—not as dramatically as a feline’s startled expression, but the same shock was evident. Lu Yao blinked; his face remained expressionless, and his eyes carried no emotion.
Zhou Yunchen held his breath for a few seconds, then stood up and started to leave. Lu Yao didn’t understand why. He tried to call out, opening his mouth, but his throat was hoarse, almost mute. He could only stretch out a hand, trying to grab Zhou Yunchen. Zhou Yunchen’s stride was long; Lu Yao caught only his pinky.
The sour citrus scent was sweet and sticky. Zhou Yunchen’s finger felt cool and adhesive, almost bonding their skin together. Zhou Yunchen paused, turning back. Lu Yao didn’t notice the careful expression on Zhou Yunchen’s face. He coughed violently, clearing his throat to manage a hoarse voice. “Where are you going?”
“I… to find the doctor to check on you,” Zhou Yunchen replied.
“Oh.” Lu Yao released his hand.
Zhou Yunchen moved toward the door but stopped at the foot of the bed, returning with a cup of warm water. After Lu Yao drank, he finally pushed the door open and left. The doctor soon came to check Lu Yao’s vital signs. Everything was normal, and he didn’t stay long, leaving Zhou Yunchen alone, restless, facing Lu Yao.
Seeing the cup empty, Zhou Yunchen refilled it with warm water and handed it to Lu Yao. Lu Yao drank it in one gulp, and Zhou Yunchen silently took the cup back. Suddenly, Lu Yao said, “So sticky.”
“What?” Zhou Yunchen froze. Sticky? Him? Did Lu Yao not want to see him? He hesitated, wondering if he should leave for now and let Snow Leopard come instead.
“Hands… cup… juice,” Lu Yao tried to use his faint voice to explain. Zhou Yunchen realized Lu Yao was talking about the orange juice stuck to both the cup and his hands. But Lu Yao’s hand rested on the bedrail, seemingly unwilling to move. Zhou Yunchen grabbed a wet wipe from the hospital drawer to clean Lu Yao’s hands. But his own hands still had wet orange juice. When he held Lu Yao’s hand to wipe it, part got cleaned while another part became sticky again.
At that moment, Zhou Yunchen’s mind seemed slower than usual. After a moment of thought, he went to the bathroom, washed his hands, wet a towel with hot water, and returned to clean Lu Yao’s hands properly.
Lu Yao didn’t resist his touch, keeping his hand in Zhou Yunchen’s. The hands were straight and slender. Once softened by the warm water steam, the rough old calluses had softened too. A strange emotion rose in Zhou Yunchen’s chest, as if Lu Yao’s fingers had grabbed hold of his heart.
Fear and anticipation intertwined, like a prisoner seeing the guillotine return, yet hoping for a new trial. After wiping away the sticky residue, Zhou Yunchen slowly and reluctantly released Lu Yao’s hand and cleaned the glass cup.
“Zhou…” Lu Yao tried to speak, but his hoarse voice stuck in his throat, and he could only frown. He coughed a few times helplessly, propped himself up on his arms, trying to make breathing easier. But the soreness and numbness in his muscles spread from his lower back and thighs, and his arms felt weak.
Zhou Yunchen helped him sit up, holding his shoulders. Lu Yao didn’t push him away or act violently like the first time he woke. Yet Zhou Yunchen could see Lu Yao’s intense effort to endure beneath his pale face. Thin beads of sweat dripped from Lu Yao’s hairline.
For the first time, Lu Yao felt the weakness that followed forced estrus. His whole body felt as if it had been run through a meat grinder. If there had been any inappropriate contact beneath him, the hazy memories suggested Zhou Yunchen had indeed not touched him. Still, the sensation was so overwhelming that he might have thought he’d undergone an intense and insane coupling.
For an omega in forced estrus, if an alpha is nearby, the chance of the alpha losing control and initiating a sexual encounter was over ninety percent. The remaining ten percent of alphas are restrained by others, unable to move.
Zhou Yunchen… Lu Yao vaguely recalled, still had the strength and self-control to carry him onto a stretcher.
The General’s restraint and patience were astonishing. Not only could he control his biological urges, but he had also hidden the truth from Lu Yao for twenty years—Lu Yao had no clue about the alpha from back then.
“Zhou…”
Zhou Yunchen was adjusting the pillow behind Lu Yao when he spoke, the sweet, pheromone-laced heat of his breath washing over Zhou Yunchen. Zhou Yunchen lifted his eyes and locked them with those icy, almost transparent blue eyes.
“Twenty-five years ago, it was you who entered the CROSS laboratory on P999 and marked me, right?” Lu Yao’s hoarse, slow voice fell onto Zhou Yunchen’s pounding heart with every word.
“Yes,” Zhou Yunchen replied. He didn’t know if Lu Yao recognized him or if Li Mo had told him something, but none of that mattered now. Lu Yao’s eyes were like inorganic glass beads, smooth and clear, with intricate patterns inside—cold and emotionless, leaving Zhou Yunchen unable to read him. Yet even so, when Zhou Yunchen spoke again, his voice trembled, “All I left you with was pain… Do you hate me?”
The author’s note:
In the future, there won’t be any Snow Leopard “exercise” scenes. I watched some educational clips about snow leopards—they are very quick, very brief. But before they turn fully human, a little licking is still fine.
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