After being moved to tears by the sworn enemy's pheromones - Chapter 71

During the winter break, City C still showed no signs of snow, though the temperature had already dropped to zero degrees. Shen Jin helplessly watched Gu Yu, who was dressed as a delivery driver. His bad habit of being on the verge of tears was about to kick in again.

“About to cry again?” Gu Yu’s tone was serious, but he gently cupped Shen Jin’s face with his hand. “I should have bullied you into tears a few more times before we started dating. That way, I wouldn’t have to comfort you myself now.”

Shen Jin, of course, didn’t actually cry, and shot back, “Don’t think I don’t know—you were already comforting me before we started dating.”

Though, the way he did it was a bit special. Shen Jin couldn’t tell back then, but now, in retrospect, it was crystal clear.

“…,” Gu Yu’s ears turned slightly red, and in a hurry, he pinched Shen Jin’s cheek. “I wasn’t.”

Afterward, he began to gather his things to leave, but felt Shen Jin tug on his jacket.

Shen Jin lowered his head, making it hard to see his expression. “I’ll go with you… I’ll ride on the back.”

“The wind’s strong outside. You want to help the respiratory department meet their quota?” Gu Yu patted his hand. “Besides, they only gave me one helmet, and I’m not giving it to you.”

Shen Jin knew it was a lost cause, so he reluctantly let go, dramatically playing the part of a grieving widow seeing her husband off at the door, nearly ready to collapse to the floor in sorrow.

Gu Yu, pretending to be annoyed, pressed a hand to Shen Jin’s forehead before closing the door, leaving behind just one comment: “Eat on time. There are freshly baked egg tarts in the kitchen.”

The winter sunlight was clear and bright. Shen Jin stood by the door for a while, thinking the mood called for a few more minutes of heartbreak. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about the mention of sweet treats.

Uncontrollably, he walked into the kitchen, retrieved the still-warm plate of egg tarts, and took a bite. His first thought was that Gu Yu must be exhausted and freezing. By the second bite, he was still missing Gu Yu’s scent. By the third bite, the egg tarts were so delicious that he completely forgot his alpha’s last name.

“…Shit.” Shen Jin licked the sweet, creamy filling off his lips and realized he had already fallen deep into Gu Yu’s trap.

Lately, Gu Yu had been keeping track of their expenses, learning how to save money on daily items. The prices of fruit, vegetables, and household goods were no longer as extravagant as before. Yet, anything Shen Jin enjoyed eating remained the same.

For example, the sweets Shen Jin mindlessly snacked on were still made with high-quality ingredients and had an excellent taste.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, Shen Jin looked out towards the balcony, feeling his eyes grow warm again.

Gu Yu seemed like the same smart and composed boy from his memories, but now he was also gentler and stronger.

Meanwhile, Shen Jin felt like he was regressing. Gone were the days when he stood maturely under streetlights at night, smoking alone. Now, he slept more, dreaded the cold, and loved to be pampered. He even wished he could just curl up in Gu Yu’s arms and never leave—acting far from an adult.

The transformation happened quickly, so fast that it felt like his entire world changed the moment Gu Yu confessed his love.

Lowering his head, Shen Jin clenched his phone, staring at the chat window with Gu Yu but not daring to send a message to disturb him. However, before he could type anything, a line appeared: *Don’t think about me.*

Shen Jin chuckled softly and replied: *Focus, and stay safe.*

After finishing the egg tarts, the guilty urge to cry disappeared completely. Embracing his carefree nature, Shen Jin followed Gu Yu’s advice and curled up on the sofa, intending to dive back into his game research. Just then, his phone rang.

The screen didn’t display a contact name, only a string of numbers, but it pierced Shen Jin’s eyes with a cold familiarity. It was a number he’d memorized in kindergarten, his parents’ contact number, one he had personally deleted from his phone.

Shen Jin glanced at the vibrating phone in his hand and finally answered the call.

With the Spring Festival approaching, Shen Yuecheng likely intended to ask if he’d come home for the holiday, just like last year, to avoid giving others an excuse to talk.

He didn’t care, thinking he could take the call with a mocking attitude, curious to see how much more fake concern his father could muster. Yet, when he heard that familiar voice, his heart still trembled.

It always seemed like the least favored child craved their parents’ attention the most. Shen Jin had ripped himself free from that need, tearing away flesh and bone, but now he wasn’t as resolute as he thought.

Clutching his phone tightly, he asked, “What’s up?”

On the other end, Shen Yuecheng’s voice was filled with concern. “Come home for the new year, Xiaoxiao. No family issue is too big to resolve. Your younger siblings miss you.”

Shen Jin listened quietly and then replied flatly, “Transfer back the school fees, living expenses, and medical bills for the past two years, and I’ll come back.”

“I’ll give you a discount—four thousand total. I can text you my account number right now.”

There was a few seconds of silence before Shen Yuecheng awkwardly responded, “Dad doesn’t have any money…”

It’s hard and embarrassing for a man in his forties to admit he’s broke, but Shen Jin didn’t hold back. “If you don’t have money, you can take out a loan, right? You can mortgage the house or the car. What’s stopping you?”

What was meant as a sarcastic remark caught Shen Jin off guard when his father fell into a long silence. After a while, Shen Yuecheng finally said, “We’re already preparing to do that…”

Shen Jin froze, his instincts kicking in as he immediately asked, “What happened?”

As soon as he said it, he regretted it. He didn’t want to expose that trace of concern still left inside him. Shen Yuecheng hesitated for a long time before finally admitting that there had been some trouble at home.

“Yuan Yuan… he got into online gambling. He says it started with a few hundred or a thousand yuan from his New Year’s money, just playing around. But somehow, he lost control and kept borrowing more. Your mom found out, paid off his debts, and gave him a good beating. He swore he wouldn’t do it again, but…”

Shen Yuecheng paused before continuing, “But he couldn’t stop himself and secretly borrowed again from someone else. He only just told us recently…”

Yuan Yuan was Shen Jin’s eldest and most mischievous younger brother. He had just turned 18 and was the most spoiled child in the family. If the debt hadn’t gotten out of control, he likely wouldn’t have said anything at all.

Shen Jin closed his eyes and reached for the pack of cigarettes that had been sitting unused on the coffee table for a long time. “…How much does he owe?”

The number Shen Yuecheng uttered was an astronomical figure for an ordinary family, shocking Shen Jin.

“How much?!”

The family’s car and house in District F could probably cover the debt, but who could say for sure? People caught up in gambling never easily stop, and it was unclear if Yuan Yuan would ever clean up his act.

The vague memories of home suddenly became vivid again, making Shen Jin feel like he was going mad. A string of questions he shouldn’t have been thinking about kept flooding his mind:

His mother was nearing retirement from the factory. His father’s career had also peaked, and the car and house were their only assets after decades of work. How would they survive afterward? The younger twins were often sick; would they still be able to receive timely treatment? They were only about ten years old. Would the family’s financial problems affect their education?

Cold wind seeped in from the balcony, and Shen Jin realized he hadn’t listened to Gu Yu’s advice—once again sitting in the chilly draft.

He gripped his cigarette tightly and asked, “Can you borrow from Uncle?”

“We already did,” Shen Yuecheng sighed. “Even your cousin lent us some…”

It’s hard for most people to put aside their pride when an elder asks a younger relative who just graduated a few years ago for money. Shen Yuecheng continued, “I also treated your aunt’s family to a meal, and your uncle got drunk and made me bow to him several times… In the end, they only lent me three thousand, and I had to sign several IOUs.”

Shen Jin could easily imagine the scene of his father being humiliated, knowing that his uncle never got along with the Shen family. He gritted his teeth, pondering how to respond when suddenly he heard Shen Yuecheng ask, “How are you doing at university? I heard that people in your field make good money with livestreaming and selling products… Do you have any extra money to help out the family?”

Shen Jin was stunned. Shen Yuecheng clearly didn’t understand what the esports major was about. His voice sounded hoarse now. “Dad knows… that you’ve always been closest to Yuanyuan since you were little.”

Yuanyuan always wanted whatever Shen Jin had, even that shrimp dumpling he liked, but his father was right. Brothers of similar ages often played and fought together more than with other children, so their bond was unsurprising.

“So… you’re asking me to lend you money?” That long-forgotten numbness rose again in Shen Jin’s chest. Perhaps Shen Yuecheng also knew that asking his still-enrolled son for money was unreasonable, but he was desperate. “We can’t let Yuanyuan go to jail, right? I’m his father, and you’re the brother he loves most—”

The word “brother” stung.

His younger brother had always liked to chase after Shen Jin, asking in his clear, sweet voice, “Brother, can I play with you too?” Shen Jin didn’t want to remember these things now, and his anger flared. “He did this to himself; he should deal with the consequences…!”

But as soon as the words left his mouth, Shen Jin felt heat rise to his eyes. “I wish I had money—but where would I get it?!”

There was blood connection, an unbreakable bond, what people call human feelings, and also the loathing he felt for his own soft heart.

“He listens to you. He’s always listened to you,” Shen Yuecheng repeated. “Help Dad talk to him… Don’t you still have that house in the village that your fourth great-uncle built? If you sell that, you could get tens of thousands for it…”

The biting wind made Shen Jin suddenly freeze in place.

The “fourth great-uncle” Shen Yuecheng referred to was Shen Jin’s great-grandfather. The old house had indeed been unoccupied for some time. Shen Jin had kept it as a way to hold on to some sentiment.

That sentiment was tied to the surname Shen and to the place he called home.

“Listen to Dad, sell the old house, okay?” But Shen Yuecheng wasn’t waiting for a reply. He went on, “I also heard that you’re dating Gu Yun’s son at the university… Their family is well off, and a few generations back, they were leaders in the tobacco industry. Could you borrow some money from them? Just twenty or thirty thousand—it’s nothing to their family. Of course… if you can borrow more, that would be even better.”

After that, Shen Jin couldn’t make out what his father was saying anymore.

The Gu family wasn’t large, and Gu Yu’s father was somewhat of a prominent figure. It wasn’t surprising that Shen Yuecheng knew something about them. Shen Yuecheng hurried on, “If Gu Yun’s son really cares about you, he’ll help. Talk to him. Gu Yun only has this one son, so he won’t refuse.”

Shen Jin swallowed hard, feeling like a fool. “…Do you even know what you’re saying?”

Before Shen Yuecheng could respond, Shen Jin fought back tears, his voice suddenly rising. “What do you take Gu Yu for?!”

“Have you never thought about how I would face the Gu family if I did that?!”

The phone was filled with the sound of their strained breathing. Shen Yuecheng, knowing he had crossed the line, mumbled a few things about the family’s situation. Though his words were fragmented, Shen Jin distinctly heard him say softly, “We can’t mortgage both houses.”

“…Both houses?” Shen Jin’s eyes froze. He asked in confusion, “What do you mean by both houses?”

Shen Yuecheng suddenly went silent.

The silence on the line was suffocating. After a long moment, Shen Yuecheng admitted he had misspoken. But Shen Jin didn’t believe him. Unable to cover it up any longer, Shen Yuecheng confessed, “…House prices kept going up. Your mother and I had no choice but to scrimp and save to buy a house for Yuanyuan. But right after we made the down payment, he got into trouble.”

“You know… Yuanyuan isn’t as obedient as you. He didn’t even want to go to college. Without our help, he wouldn’t make it.”

In other words, the couple, out of love for their son, had long been planning for his future.

Over the past twenty years, no matter how distant Shen Jin’s relationship with his family became, he had always sympathized with his parents for the hardship of raising four children. In his mind, they had struggled to make ends meet with little money to spare.

He had always believed they were ordinary workers with no substantial savings, barely able to cover hospital bills, and their modest lifestyle supported that.

But in reality, they had always had savings, always had assets. They could repay their debts but chose not to, simply because they didn’t want to affect their beloved son’s future.

Shen Jin sat in the blinding light, surrounded by noise, unable to hear anything else his father was saying.

He smiled bitterly at how foolish he had been—why hadn’t he thought, like others, that his parents, who had worked in respectable factories for over twenty or thirty years, could hardly be so poor?

Forcing a smile, Shen Jin finally interrupted Shen Yuecheng, “While he’s still young, let him go to jail early… Otherwise, you’ll just be filling an endless pit.”

Addicted to gambling, few people ever truly quit. Shen Jin added, “If you don’t have the money, sell the house, the car, start a crowdfunding campaign. Before long, you’ll be selling blood, and my sister won’t even have money for college. Don’t come to me.”

Shen Yuecheng fell silent, trying to maintain his last shred of dignity. “Xiaoxiao, I know—”

“No, you don’t.” Shen Jin, fighting back tears, rudely cut him off, his voice trembling, “Shen Yuecheng, you don’t know anything.”

Shen Yuecheng never knew that when young Shen Jin thought the world had turned gray, his father’s gentle demeanor was his only warmth in that small, narrow world.

Shen Jin had once thought that his father comforting him with promises of future shrimp dumplings was love. But that warmth had always been a lie. It tied down children starved of affection, keeping them in a constant cycle of longing for love, repeatedly softening their hearts, only to be drained of every ounce of worth.

Shen Jin had never told Shen Yuecheng that he had kept the fake Great Priest card for many years.

It had been proof to him that at least his father loved him.

And it was only in that moment that Shen Jin truly made peace.

Not with his parents, but with the version of himself who had always been soft-hearted, who had clung to hopes, who had longed for his parents’ love.

Through the blurry sunlight, he seemed to see his 16-year-old self, who had often cried in secret.

“You were too naive,” he said to himself. “But now, I forgive you.”

The wind blew gently as Shen Jin lowered his hand and pressed the red button, silently ending the call with Shen Yuecheng.

Not forgiving and not reconciling with his parents was the best ending.

The phone fell silent, followed by a string of vibrations as calls came in, but Shen Jin just leaned back on the sofa and didn’t answer.

*

Around 8 p.m., after finishing his treatment, Shen Jin returned home.

Gu Yu had texted to say he’d be back after his shift ended at 9. All day, Shen Jin had expected Gu Yu to be too busy to text or to send him a heads-up, but in fact, Gu Yu had messaged him several times.

At 11 a.m., just after leaving the house, Gu Yu had sent a blurry photo of a chubby little cat with the message: “Saw this right before getting on the elevator. It looks a bit like you—dirty fur and all.”

Shen Jin tugged at his slightly “messy” purple-gray hair ends and jokingly sent back a meme of a cat boxing: “You’ve stepped on my hair how many times, and now you’re calling it dirty?”

 

At 12:30 PM, Gu Yu messaged: “Don’t forget to have lunch.”  

He even had time to send a video: “I’m waiting for my food. The mascots of two bubble tea shops are fighting.”  

Shen Jin laughed for a long time at the 20-second “fight” video: “I’m rooting for the panda to win.”  

After a while, Gu Yu replied during a break: “But the panda lost; it deflated halfway through the fight.”  

Shen Jin laughed even more. He hadn’t mentioned anything about the situation at home to Gu Yu, but by evening, Gu Yu asked: “Did something happen?”  

It was clear Gu Yu had noticed something was off with his mood, which made Shen Jin feel a mix of emotions. “How can you tell?”  

However, thinking that such a question would delay Gu Yu’s response, Shen Jin bit the bullet and decided to explain directly.  

He sent a few concise sentences, ending with: “My brother is already 18; he should be responsible for his own mistakes. Helping him is only hurting him, so I won’t get involved with family matters anymore.”  

Gu Yu probably just skimmed it and quickly understood the situation. He could easily guess that, despite Shen Jin’s words, he wasn’t as heartless as he sounded.  

Gu Yu said, “I get it.”  

“No matter if you wavered at some point, remember that feeling soft-hearted isn’t a fault.”  

“And, wait for me.”  

 

Shen Jin leaned against the clinic sofa, glancing at the IV needle in his hand while reminding Gu Yu to stay safe. A wave of bittersweet emotions surged in his heart, but it was no longer as intense as before, when he didn’t even dare to hold onto such feelings.  

 

“Your boyfriend didn’t accompany you today?” A nurse came over to change the IV bag and asked, “I saw him here every night the past few days.”  

“He’s working part-time. Today’s his first official shift after training,” Shen Jin sniffled, replying, “I want to be with him, but… I can’t go for now.”  

“Kiddo, focus on your treatment, stop overthinking,” the nurse teased him. “Last time your boyfriend was here, you were asleep. He saw the bruising around your IV site and nearly cried. I almost felt guilty enough to cancel my nursing license.”  

It’s normal to have some bruising after multiple IVs, so Shen Jin quickly reassured her it was fine and hurriedly asked, “He cried?”  

The small private clinic wasn’t busy. The nurse sat down next to him, her tone becoming more serious. “He cried more than once. He looked so pitiful, I started wondering who’s really the alpha in your relationship—if you were awake, he probably would’ve hidden in your arms to cry.”  

Shen Jin felt both pained and amused: “He wouldn’t do that now.”  

Gu Yu was still carrying a lot of emotional baggage and wasn’t quite ready to let his guard down and act all vulnerable, but Shen Jin believed it was only a matter of time.  

Give it a couple more years, and Gu Yu would definitely be the type of alpha to cuddle into his arms, sniffling and shedding tears.  

 

A few hours later, Shen Jin finished his IV and returned home, soon welcoming Gu Yu back.  

Gu Yu rushed straight to the bedroom to hug him, not even bothering to take off the delivery company jacket.  

 

“How long did you wait for me?” Gu Yu started to take off his gloves, wanting to touch Shen Jin’s face but suddenly stopped. Shen Jin noticed and pulled Gu Yu over, discovering that his hands were as cold as ice and that there was a small red scrape on his wrist.  

Shen Jin immediately panicked: “What happened?!”  

But the moment the words left his mouth, he regretted his accusatory tone. He hurriedly apologized, gently warming Gu Yu’s cold hands with his breath: “Does it hurt? I’ll disinfect it for you in a bit…”  

 

As he spoke, he became even more anxious: “At least bandage it—”  

 

“I got bumped while delivering food, and I scraped it against a wall. It doesn’t hurt, just needs a band-aid,” Gu Yu looked down at his hand, which Shen Jin was carefully holding, and smiled. “You’re so worried, anyone would think something serious happened to me.”  

 

“Your hands are practically frozen off, and you’re still saying nothing happened?” Shen Jin helped Gu Yu treat the wound, rubbing his cold hands, tears almost welling up but stubbornly refusing to fall.  

 

Gu Yu leaned in to kiss the corner of Shen Jin’s eyes, whispering, “I’ve only just started the job and don’t have much experience, but I promise it won’t happen again, okay?”  

Shen Jin buried his head, his voice hoarse: “If it wasn’t because of me…”  

 

“It’s not because of you,” Gu Yu interrupted him immediately, speaking seriously. “Everything I do is my own decision. Even if the omega I saved in Qingyun Mountain was a complete stranger, I still would’ve argued with my dad and aunt when they forced me to forgive Du Jun and Song Yizhi.”  

 

He continued, “We share the same worldview and the same principles—I stand by my own values. I’ve never sacrificed anything for you.”  

 

Shen Jin looked at him for a long time before suddenly diving into his arms, refusing to let go.  

Gu Yu hugged him tight and ruffled his hair, asking, “Are you upset because you think I only chose C University for you?”  

 

Shen Jin was about to speak, but Gu Yu cut him off again: “Even if I hadn’t come here, I wouldn’t have been at peace for the rest of my life. So every choice I’ve made has been for myself—and C University’s engineering program is perfectly suited to my entrance exam scores.”  

 

“But…” Shen Jin curled his fingers, subtly scratching Gu Yu’s back, “I bet even if you scored 20 or 30 points higher, you’d still come looking for me…”  

 

Gu Yu sighed, pulling Shen Jin close and shaking his upper body playfully: “Wrong guess!”  

Shen Jin chuckled and rested his heavy head against Gu Yu’s chest.  

 

Gu Yu gently stroked his back, and after a long silence, he asked, “Did your dad make things difficult for you?”  

 

“…Not really,” Shen Jin rubbed his eyes and replied, “He just asked to borrow money. I refused. It’s not like they’ll do anything drastic.”  

 

After a brief pause, Shen Jin spoke in a calm tone that even surprised himself: “I know I won’t deal with him anymore.”  

 

The warm light bathed them as Gu Yu held him, listening as Shen Jin gradually shared bits and pieces of his past before finally saying, “Gu Yu, I still have a few questions I want to ask you…”  

Gu Yu nodded and softly replied, “Ask away.”  

 

But in reality, Gu Yu already knew what Shen Jin wanted to ask.  

 

Shen Jin wanted to know: Will you always love me? Will you ever leave me? Will we really stay together for life?  

 

Sure enough, Shen Jin’s questions were almost word for word what Gu Yu had anticipated.  

Shen Jin knew he was being a bit much, and he knew no one likes being asked these things, but Gu Yu just laughed and answered one by one: “I’ll always love you. I’ll never leave you. We’ll be together for life.”  

 

After hearing the answers, Shen Jin felt so embarrassed he wished he could unscrew the top of his head to check what was wrong with his brain, but Gu Yu’s embrace only grew warmer.  

“My answer will never change, so you can keep asking me, anytime, anywhere. You can ask me every day—ask me once in the morning before I go out, once at lunch, and again before bed. I don’t mind taking ten seconds to answer you each time.”  

Shen Jin’s breath turned hot, and he couldn’t help but lean up to kiss Gu Yu’s lips. But Gu Yu lowered his gaze and seriously said, “However, you can’t ask me while I’m pushing the top lane.”  

 

“…When did I ever block your lane?” Shen Jin was stunned, and he scrambled out of Gu Yu’s arms. “I… I’ve helped you so much against their top lane, and I can’t even take a few of your minions? Do you really love me?”  

 

Gu Yu shook his head dramatically, and the two immediately started wrestling until Gu Yu had Shen Jin pinned down and kissed him so breathlessly that he had to surrender: “I was wrong, I was wrong… whoever takes the top lane’s minions again is a dog…”  

 

“…Hmph.” Gu Yu finally let him go, pulling him up. “I saw a restaurant today where the kitchen was transparent. I noticed they added some hawthorn to the stew; I’ll try it later.”

  

By the time Gu Yu realized what Shen Jin meant by “whoever takes the top lane’s minions again is a dog,” Shen Jin had already stolen both his late-night snack and his warmth, happily drifting off to sleep.