Chapter 64: Three-Day Proposal Ultimatum
Most senior advertising professionals suffer from an occupational disease: they generally care deeply about strangers’ evaluations and opinions of them.
The root cause of this is likely because every time an ad campaign is launched, they have to perform multi-dimensional analyses on effect, reputation, coverage data, etc., to review the creativity and strive for a better outcome next time.
The evaluations Shou Jiaxun received tonight were “willful” and “murder.” His first reaction was: “Going out at night is willful? Simply unreasonable,” and “Taking a contraceptive pill is ‘murder’? You guys are crazy!”
But very quickly, he began to introspect: “As an Omega who just had sex with an Alpha, going out without bathing in time to clean up the smell on my body really does seem inappropriate. Let alone at night, even during the day it would cause trouble for others, especially in an enclosed space like an elevator. Sigh, I really… shouldn’t have.”
And: “Contraception is divided into before and after. Acting after the fact does seem to stifle the sprouting of a life.”
President Shou sat in a sofa in the corner of the hotel lobby lounge area. His hands couldn’t help but clutch the fabric at his stomach tightly. His face and the skin over his knuckles were so pale they were almost transparent.
Liang Bo was instructed by him to book plane tickets back to China immediately. He felt Shou Jiaxun needed rest now, so he booked tickets for the afternoon of that day, allowing them to get a good sleep from the second half of the night until noon.
After booking the tickets, he sat quietly opposite Shou Jiaxun. Having nothing to do, he opened the hotel’s “Letters to A/O” and read them one by one.
Neither letter was very long, but the wording was earnest, the tone firm, and very inflammatory.
After reading the letters, Liang Bo looked up at Shou Jiaxun again. Seeing his conflicted expression, he cautiously moved to the sofa opposite, sitting on the same side as Shou Jiaxun, but not right next to him.
He just slowly pushed the back of the letter paper towards Shou Jiaxun.
The back featured a series of pictures showing fetal development, illustrating what the fetus looked like at different times.
“Look, he grows so fast. In twenty-four hours, he turns into a little tadpole, with a head and a tail. Interesting, isn’t it?”
Liang Bo’s tone was very relaxed, as if chatting and joking, but the trembling letter paper had already betrayed his true emotions.
He was terrified. He wanted this child, but they weren’t married, nor were they marked. According to the laws of their own country, reproductive rights rested entirely in the Omega’s hands.
Shou Jiaxun lowered his head, moving his eyes, and reminded him in a low voice: “D-Day; that means ‘days,’ not ‘hours’.”
“Oh, oh, sorry, my eyes played tricks on me,” Liang Bo chuckled awkwardly, pulling the letter paper back.
Then Shou Jiaxun heard the sound of water droplets falling onto the paper. Pitter, patter. One drop, two drops; three drops, four drops. The sound was originally very soft, but it seemed to magnify in Shou Jiaxun’s ears.
Little President Shou turned his head to look at the young Alpha crying silently beside him. Liang Bo’s shoulders were slumped, his head hanging down. He sniffled and muttered, “Can’t… can’t we really keep him?”
Shou Jiaxun subconsciously shook his head: “The flight is at 3:00 PM today, right?”
Liang Bo nodded.
Shou Jiaxun took a deep breath, pushing off his knees to stand up. “Please help me bring my luggage to my new room. We’ll meet here at 1:00 PM tomorrow to go to the airport.”
He had just opened a new single room at the front desk for himself. But after bathing and changing clothes, completely washing away Liang Bo’s scent, and lying quietly on the bed, he didn’t attain the detachment he desired; instead, his loneliness multiplied.
He needed a very close person to talk to, like his uncle, or his father… just about anything.
President Shou weighed his options between the two relatives for half an hour. His final conclusion was that Shou Yulong probably didn’t have time, and even if he did, he wouldn’t understand his feelings.
So he dialed Uncle Guo’s number, but Uncle Guo’s line was busy and wouldn’t go through.
The person occupying Uncle Guo’s line was Liang Bo.
When he heard Liang Bo say over the phone that Shou Jiaxun was going to “have an abortion,” he was completely stunned. He stuttered as he questioned: “Didn’t I just tell you last week to ‘take it step by step’? …You… you didn’t force him… did you?”
Liang Bo sobbed out the whole story, sniffling between sentences, explaining exactly how Shou Jiaxun accidentally bought ineffective suppressants yesterday afternoon and how their accidental union happened.
After hearing this, Uncle Guo decisively offered his opinion: “I support Little President Shou. I’m not saying you’re bad, but this is too sudden. No one could accept it. The main point is that you shouldn’t have hidden your secondary gender.”
Liang Bo kept crying and wouldn’t hang up the phone: “It’s my fault, but the baby is innocent!”
Uncle Guo sighed in frustration: “What baby? Within three days, it’s just a cell nucleus at most.”
“The cells are already developing,” Liang Bo wiped his tears, trying his best to play the pity card. He knew that at this moment, if anyone could persuade Shou Jiaxun, it would only be Guoran.
Uncle Guo spoke bluntly: “They are not. It takes at least 72 hours to implant and begin developing. Cells are much more ‘composed’ than you Alphas. I missed my chance once before, I can’t just watch Little President Shou make the same mistake. If you really love him, you can continue pursuing him whether you have this child or not.”
“Uncle, our family’s genes are different from other Alphas. Our Alphas are particularly family-oriented. My Alpha father was raised single-handedly by my grandfather.”
Liang Bo recounted his family history—his Alpha father being raised by a single parent from age ten, and his own experience of being raised by a single parent from age ten—to prove that even if Shou Jiaxun didn’t like children, he could raise the child perfectly well on his own.
Moreover, his family wasn’t poor. He didn’t need Shou Jiaxun’s financial support to raise a child… He even had an apartment in a good school district, worth over ten million.
Uncle Guo was both angry and amused by this: “Oh really, school district apartments are quite expensive these days. How about you give your school district apartment to Little President Shou as a proposal gift and see if he agrees?”
Liang Bo nodded earnestly: “Okay, as soon as I get back to China, I’ll…”
“That’s not what I meant,” Uncle Guo interrupted him. “You are too young. You guys have only really been interacting for less than a month. You want to keep the child now, but what if you suddenly regret it when Shou Jiaxun’s belly gets big? An Alpha can walk away whenever they regret it, but the Omega might have to spend the rest of their life repairing what they have to endure.”
“Uncle, please don’t project your own experience first…” Liang Bo pleaded tearfully.
Uncle Guo pondered for a moment, probably feeling that there’s no comparing people. He finally loosened his stance slightly: “I can only help you stall for two days at most. Little President Shou must make his own decision within 72 hours. So you have three days to propose to Little President Shou. Within three days, if he agrees, you get married and prepare to have the baby. Beyond three days, you just have to let it go, alright?”
Liang Bo had no idea if it was alright. If he were making the decision, he felt he needed at least three months, preferably three years.
But this was all Guoran could do to help him.
After Uncle Guo ended the call with Liang Bo, he immediately called Shou Jiaxun back, but this time it was Shou Jiaxun’s phone that was busy.
Translator’s Note:
- D-Day: In this translation, Liang Bo misreads D-Day as “hours” but Shou Jiaxun corrects him that the chart is in “days”.
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