Chapter 37: The Absurd Shrimp-Headed Man part 1
Bai Yu wiped his hands with a languid precision, the alcohol-soaked cotton removing the bloodstains. He took a step forward, his tall frame nearly enveloping Jiang Zhaosheng in his shadow.
Jiang Zhaosheng leaned back against the cold tile wall and tilted his face up slightly. His eyes were shaped with a feminine touch; his rounded almond eyes should have looked innocent and harmless, yet they swept upward at the corners with an abruptly alluring curve. He looked like a felineāat once sluggish and alert. When he looked up in silence, his long lashes cast small shadows beneath his eyes. His pupils seemed to hold a spring of water that was clear to the bottom, yet impossible to truly see throughāan unintentional aura of enchantment that bordered on the innocent.
For a moment, the air between them grew stagnant. As if possessed, Bai Yu remained silent, only to see Jiang Zhaosheng suddenly blink. A faint curveāhalf-serious, half-jokingātugged at the corner of Jiang Zhaosheng’s lips as he asked in a soft voice:
“Aren’t you… impotent?”
Bai Yu: “…”
The man, who had been playing the role of the “wicked and overbearing” type just a second ago, stiffened. He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses in a clear attempt to hide his embarrassment, his gaze shifting momentarily behind the lenses.
“Iāve cleared up that rumor with you many times. That was just a story I told to avoid being harassed.”
If it had been Shang Yan or any of those other bastards, Jiang Zhaosheng would never have made such a joke. Most of them would have taken the opportunity to get excited, shooting back with something far more explicit like, “Why don’t you try it out for yourself?”
But Bai Yu was different. Among the Alphas Jiang Zhaosheng knew, he was one of the few who etched “refinement” into his very surfaceāto the point of overacting. He carried such a heavy scholarly aura that Jiang Zhaosheng often felt like more of a thug than the doctor.
They had met outside of Shen Qimingās sphere of influence. Years ago, at an underground boxing ring, his scarred master had grabbed Jiang Zhaosheng by the shoulder and pushed him into a room reeking of disinfectant. His master had warned him in a low voice:
“You can fall out with anyone here, but not Doctor Bai. The rest of the brothers’ lives depend on those hands of his.”
Before his master could even introduce him, the person inside reading a book didn’t even look up. He let out an exaggerated sigh, slammed the book shut, and announced with great momentum:
“I already told youāI. Am. Impotent.”
“…”
Jiang Zhaosheng had stood there dazed, rubbing his nose. After hesitating for a long while, he finally spoke up cautiously:
“Then… I wish you a speedy recovery?”
Later, Bai Yu explained with resignation that people were always trying to win over a skilled “free agent” like him by finding every possible way to stuff Omegas into his arms under the guise of “blind dates.” That day, he hadn’t been wearing his glasses. He had only caught sight of a pale-skinned, thin young man being pushed in and assumed it was another “honey trap” sent by some faction, causing him to speak without thinking.
In the years since escaping Shen Qimingās grasp, Bai Yu was one of the few old acquaintances he still kept in touch with. Jiang Zhaosheng had long since figured out this man’s personalityāhe was sharp-tongued but extremely obsessed with “face.” Having eaten so many of his “free meals,” Jiang Zhaosheng figured one more wouldn’t hurt.
“Thanks,” he said, smoothing back the damp, stray hairs on his forehead. His voice still carried a hint of weakness. “I’ll owe you for now and make it up to you later.”
As he spoke, he prepared to bend down to lift the unconscious Qin Yichuan from the floor.
Bai Yu grabbed him by the elbow.
“Hold on. I only agreed to let you owe Jiang Wan a favor. I never said Iād help you take care of some random man for free.”
“He’s not my man,” Jiang Zhaosheng frowned, struggling to drag Qin Yichuanās heavy frame. His tone was serious and stubborn. “Heās a nuisance. A time bomb. One wrong move and heāll blow me straight to heaven.”
“Jiang Zhaosheng…” Bai Yu was almost moved to laughter by his stubbornness. Taking advantage of the fact that the other was too weak to resist, he reached out and gave his damp cheek a playful, light pinch. “What are you doing, acting like some AI? You’re like a dead machine.”
Ultimately, he resigned himself to his fate, rolled up his sleeves, and helped move the unconscious Alpha into the guest room.
After pulling on a loose cardigan, Jiang Zhaosheng bit down on a black hair tie and returned to the living room with a thick roll of white manuscript paper. Bai Yu was sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed, his gaze falling thoughtfully on the exquisite gift box wrapped in ribbon that Shang Yan had sent.
“Why haven’t you left yet?”
Jiang Zhaosheng asked offhandedly as he wound the hair tie around a few times, tying his hair into a messy half-bun. A few strands escaped the tie, falling loosely beside his neck.
“…I’m a doctor. I need to observe the patientās follow-up condition.”
Bai Yu pushed his glasses up, his tone perfectly serious. He actually felt the annoyance of being used and then discarded, but he could only sigh inwardly.
He had understood long ago that pursuing a single father who was “raising a child” was destined to be a long, difficult road with no end in sightāespecially when this father was excessively beautiful without realizing it and surrounded by a swarm of covetous, predatory “butterflies.”
āTaking a bit of abuse while paying for the privilege was simply part of the journey.
Jiang Zhaosheng didn’t seem to mind having another person in the house. Once he got his answer, he ignored the doctor and spread the large sheets of paper across the living room floor. He knelt down, picked up a marker, and focused his attention.
Qin Yichuanās sudden appearance and the horrific state of his dug-out gland were an undeniable alarm bellāit was highly likely that Shen Qiming really wasn’t dead and was planning a comeback.
He had to clear his thoughts and prepare as quickly as possible.
The sharp, pungent scent of the marker filled the air. Jiang Zhaosheng knelt on the cold floor, the pen scratching against the paper as he tried to outline the clues and connections in his memory.
However, past memories always brought back unbearable images and the omnipresent shadow of that man…
Fine beads of sweat began to form on his nose. His forehead felt tight, and his breathing grew unintentionally rapid. It wasn’t until he tasted the sharp tang of rust in his mouth that Jiang Zhaosheng realized he had bitten his lower lip, a stinging pain coming from the wound.
Bai Yu, who had been watching him closely out of the corner of his eye, immediately noticed the abnormality.
The man in the living room sat frozen, his eyes glazed over as he unconsciously, almost masochistically, sucked at the bleeding wound on his lip.
Jiang Zhaosheng was being dragged into a swamp by the nightmares of the pastāShen Qimingās smiling face flickered before him, that suffocating room filled with thick pheromones, the man always teasing him with a doting tone about being “delicate,” telling him it only took a few fingers to make his consciousness shatter…
Those smiling, suggestive jokes… he had even unconsciously played along, unaware he was being humiliated. He had lunged forward to lightly bite the manās fingers, leaving shallow teeth marks like a playing pet.
He remembered himself begging in a syrupy voice: “More…”
He could almost imagine what he must have looked like in Shen Qimingās eyes back thenāhow flattering, how utterly unsightly.
Right then, a warm touch with slight calluses brushed against the back of his neck.
Jiang Zhaosheng shuddered violently, waking from the terrible memory. A sharp, physical ache of nausea immediately churned in his stomach. A wave of intense regret and self-loathing washed over him. He snapped his head toward Bai Yu, his face pale and his lip bleeding, unable to say a single word.
Bai Yu didn’t speak. He only reached out and gently freed Jiang Zhaoshengās damp hair from the tie, using his fingertips to patiently detangle the messy strands bit by bit.
“Your hair came loose,” he said softly.
Jiang Zhaosheng remained stiff, allowing the movements, his fingertips icy. After a while, he asked a question out of nowhere:
“Bai Yu… with current technology, is it possible to duplicate a person?”
Bai Yuās hand paused. He didn’t answer immediately. His gaze grew deep behind his glasses as he looked at Jiang Zhaosheng, trying to evaluate the motivation behind the question.
“Theoretically, cloning technology has existed for a long time… but are you talking about duplication?” Bai Yu spoke slowly, his voice carrying the rigor and caution of his profession. “The meaning might be different from what I understand. You don’t mean just identical genes? You mean duplicating memories, personality, even that nebulous ‘soul’ altogether? The latter, by current technological standards, is more like… a taboo field.”
He didn’t deny it; his tone held a hint of disgust when mentioning the taboo. Jiang Zhaosheng took it as an admission that someone was researching such technology.
“Why are you asking this?” Bai Yu pressed. “What did you think of?”
He keenly linked this anomaly to Jiang Zhaoshengās breakdown just moments ago.
Jiang Zhaosheng avoided his gaze. He curled into a ball, his chin resting on his knees as he stared blankly at the lines and keywords on the manuscript.
Silence itself was an answer.
Looking at him like this, Bai Yu suddenly sighed. He stopped pushing and instead sat cross-legged beside him.
“Speaking of which,” he began in a flat tone, “when I saw you again after all those years, you really gave me a shock. You looked much like you do nowāabsolutely pathetic, and yet…”
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