72

That night, Shen Dai drifted off uneasily to sleep. His sleep was already very shallow, and at the first sound of Qiuqiu’s crying, he woke up.

Already he had become so sensitive to Qiuqiu’s nighttime crying that his body would react before his brain had even registered it. He bolted upright in bed. His delayed exhaustion caused a short spell of disorientation, but he quickly snapped out of it and went to soothe Qiuqiu, gently patting him on his little chest, before picking him up and rocking him in his arms.

Cheng Zimei was fast asleep in the next room. She still had to go to work in the morning. She hadn’t been sleeping well these past few days because of Qiuqiu, so Shen Dai was anxious for him to quiet down as soon as possible.

Except he quickly realised something wasn’t right. He nervously touched Qiuqiu’s forehead; it was hot. Sliding his hand inside the baby’s collar, he found that the temperature of his skin was clearly abnormal.

His mind went blank for a moment, then filled up immediately with anxiety. Qiuqiu was having a fever!

In general, newborns were less prone to illness in their first six months as their bodies still carried immunity from their mothers. Qiuqiu, on the other hand, had lacked an alpha father’s pheromones throughout the pregnancy, so his constitution was slightly weak. The doctors had warned Shen Dai about the associated risks and advised him to provide Qiuqiu with a stable and safe environment. But the flight, the sudden change in surroundings, being frightened by Qu Moyu, and repeated contact with strangers had taken its toll, and now it was manifesting as illness.

Shen Dai felt intensely guilty. His heart ached like it had been stabbed. What pained him the most was that he had no other options. Nobody could help him resolve the issue with his resignation, or help him take full responsibility for the child. And there was no one who could stop Qu Moyu from relentlessly closing in.

Life’s hardships were difficult to describe. Just by going through them, you would already be too drained to find the words.

Pushing aside his guilt, he woke Cheng Zimei up and asked her to accompany him to the hospital. He had no way to care for the child while handling registration and payment at the same time alone.

When they got into the taxi, it was just starting to get light outside. Cheng Zimei kept yawning while looking up on how to care for a child with a fever on her phone. Learning that Qiuqiu had a fever, the driver drove quickly, and even remembered to offer some words of comfort. 

Upon arriving at the hospital, Shen Dai brought Qiuqiu in for consultation. For the time being, the doctor advised using physical methods and medication to bring the fever down instead of injections, and also recommended staying at the hospital for a while for observation. Once the prescription was ready, Cheng Zimei hurried off to make payment and collect the medication.

This hospital, the closest hospital to their house, was a public one. The pediatric department was packed with children of all ages, and the sound of their wails and cries rising and falling continuously was loud enough to blow the roof off. Just being in an environment like this was enough to make anyone irritable, causing a headache so intense your head might split open.

The doctors and nurses had more on their plate than they could handle. After giving Qiuqiu his medicine, Shen Dai held him for more than an hour while he cried non-stop before a nurse finally came to help wipe him down with lukewarm water. She briefly explained and demonstrated what to do before rushing off to tend to other patients.

Shen Dai was like someone hit with a shot of adrenaline. His energy was high, yet he was acutely aware of his body’s exhaustion. “You should go to work,” he told Cheng Zimei. “I’ll stay and observe him for a few more hours. Once his fever goes away things should be alright.”

“I’m not going anymore. How are you going to manage all on your own?” Seeing how tired and worn out he looked, Cheng Zimei felt deeply unsettled. She sighed. “Raising a kid is way too difficult. I don’t want one anymore.”

Shen Dai wanted to tell her that what was difficult was raising a child alone. For a married couple, it wouldn’t be this hard. But he said nothing, being a textbook example of what not to do.

“Go get some rest. I’ve figured it out. Let me wipe him down,” said Cheng Zimei. Noticing Qiuqiu’s eyelids starting to close, she added, “Look, he’s about to fall asleep.”

“I can’t leave. He’ll start crying once he can’t sense my pheromones.” Looking at Qiuqiu, trembling from crying, his small face flushed with fever, Shen Dai felt a sharp sting in his nose, his eyes almost tearing up.

There had been many, many difficult moments. Going alone to prenatal checkups with a swollen belly, having to prepare for the birth on his own, going through the pain of childbirth and recovery, and watching the career he had worked so hard to build fall behind—all of which, when he was on the verge of a mental breakdown, would lead him to ask himself, in the depths of his heart: Do you regret it?

At each time he would listen carefully to that voice in his heart. When the pain was over, he would calmly analyse and ponder, and at each time the answer would always be: No.

He was convinced that the hardest part was almost over, and that the conviction and strength this child gave him was far more than what he had lost.

Shen Dai stayed up for hours not daring to sleep. He kept watch over Qiuqiu, leaning against the wall while continuously nodding off. Qiuqiu’s temperature had dipped slightly. He was still feverish, waking in little bursts of crying before slipping back into sleep. The doctor had asked him to observe the baby for another two hours before deciding whether to go home or to proceed with further treatment.

・・・  

When Qu Moyu entered the unbearably noisy pediatric ward, he was greeted with the figure of Shen Dai’s back - thin and hunched over, his head and shoulders pressed against the ice cold wall, as still as a statue. His heart ached. He couldn’t accept that his omega would choose to suffer like this and be reduced to such a sorry state.

He approached slowly. Just as he was deliberating whether or not to get closer, Shen Dai, a step ahead of Qiuqiu, sensed something and turned his head.

There were blue-green circles around his slightly bloodshot eyes, his skin was paper-dry, his lips chapped. It looked like he was ill as well.

The sound of crying and screaming all around Qu Moyu was making the veins of his temples throb. He had never been in a place like this, a scene of carnage built of illness, noise, anxiety, and grievances. He badly wanted to gather his wife and child into his arms and leave at once.

The moment he saw him, Shen Dai’s face turned even paler.

Qu Moyu took a deep breath. “I tried calling you, but your phone was switched off. I went to the hotel to look for you, but the front desk said you’d gone to the hospital in the middle of the night. And so I found that you came here.”

Shen Dai was so exhausted he didn’t feel like talking, just looked at him, then turned to face the other way.

“Go to my hospital instead. This place is understaffed. The doctors and nurses can’t look after Qiuqiu properly.” Qu Moyu whispered, “You can’t take good care of Qiuqiu in this state either.”

Shen Dai looked at Qiuqiu who was breathing heavily, and his eyes became even redder.

“Now’s not the time to be stubborn. Let’s go.”

Cheng Zimei came back from getting coffee. She stared at Qu Moyu, her eyes wide.

Qu Moyu gave her a once-over. “Miss Cheng, is it?” He knew she was Shen Dai’s labmate and friend. It was unlikely that a male omega would develop feelings for a female beta, but seeing Cheng Zimei effectively take his place and role still made him just as uneasy as before.

“President… President Qu.” Cheng Zimei looked at Shen Dai.

“Thank you for accompanying Shen Dai and Qiuqiu here. I’m taking them to a different hospital. You can head back to work.”

Shen Dai quietly packed up his things, then picked Qiuqiu up in his arms. “Zimei, go back first, alright? Thanks for all your help today.” He did not want a confrontation with Qu Moyu while Cheng Zimei was still there. In any case, what mattered most was for Qiuqiu to get better.

Cheng Zimei nodded her head hesitantly. She was looking at both of them with a bit of disbelief.

He carried Qiuqiu and walked out of the ward. Qu Moyu caught up with him in a few steps, helping to shield him from a parent struggling with a child who was throwing a tantrum in the corridor, at the same time wrapping a powerful arm around his thin shoulders.

Those calm ebony-wood pheromones were like a sharp sword piercing through the fog. Amidst the pungent scent of antiseptic, they drifted into Shen Dai’s nose, and Shen Dai couldn’t help but breathe them in. At least in that moment, the scent gave him a bit of peace of mind.

They got into the car. The door shut. The three adults anxiously held their breath while watching Qiuqiu’s reaction.

Perhaps the fever had affected Qiuqiu’s senses, he didn’t cry because of getting close to Qu Moyu. It seemed he hadn’t even sensed it at all.

This caused Shen Dai to worry even more. “Old Wu, would it be okay to drive quickly?” he asked.

Seeing the way Qiuqiu’s little face was flushed completely red, Qu Moyu started to get anxious too. “How did he get a fever?”

“I don’t know.”

“We’ll take him to the hospital for a proper checkup. Don’t worry. He’ll get better quickly”

Shen Dai was looking at Qiuqiu. “How would you know?” he murmured.

“He’s my son… our son. Of course he’s in perfect health.”

Qu Moyu was looking at Shen Dai, who was in turn looking at Qiuqiu. Compared to the self-assured, composed Engineer Shen of before, the person in front of him now seemed to have a different face - the face of someone worn down and trapped by life. His features were just as distinct as ever, yet he looked pale and unwell, drained of all spark. And still, he couldn’t look away.

He saw in Shen Dai a kind of fragile yet unyielding beauty - of using one’s shattered self to embrace one’s child. It was a unique radiance, one that, regardless of gender, only a single role could exude: that of a parent.

He felt sorry for his Omega. All he wanted was to hug Shen Dai in his arms, to shield him from the elements and soothe away all the pain.

・・・  

Everything at the luxurious private hospital - from the environment to the overall experience - was like night and day when compared to the public hospital. Being there felt less like seeking medical care and more like enjoying a high-end service.

Qiuqiu had been assigned to the best ward. Immediately he was surrounded by doctors and designated nurses diagnosing him and providing him with care.

The diagnosis was the same as the previous doctor’s: An ordinary fever. Best treated with medication and physical methods to bring the fever down. What differed was the environment. The place was quiet and clean, and nurses stayed close to Qiuqiu. Shen Dai’s chaotic state of mind gradually settled as well, and he was no longer as tense or anxious as before.

Qiuqiu was still sleeping and waking intermittently. The nurse explained, “When babies aren’t feeling well, they tend to get cranky, and that can slow their recovery. If both of you can release more soothing pheromones, it might help him cry less, eat more, and sleep better. With more energy, his fever should come down faster.”

Shen Dai dug into the bag he carried everywhere with him and pulled out Bai Xiangwan’s pheromone spray, then hesitated.

In fact, he had already used it earlier, but it hadn’t worked. This type of artificial pheromone relied solely on tricking an infant’s sense of smell, which Qiuqiu had lost temporarily.

In humans, however, pheromone perception was not limited to smell. It also involved the nervous, circulatory, and endocrine systems. Which was why Qiuqiu could still benefit from his soothing pheromones, but not from Bai Xiangwan’s.

Qu Moyu snatched the almost empty spray bottle away and tossed it into the bin.

“Let me try,” he said, gazing sincerely into Shen Dai’s eyes. “I’m his Alpha father after all.”