Last Love chapter 10
“Wen Ke,” Wen Ke curled up in the blanket, hearing Han Jiangque’s voice coming from behind, low and soft: “Are you asleep?”
He hesitated with closed eyes but couldn’t bring himself to leave Han Jiangque’s question hanging in the air, so he spoke softly: “Not yet.”
It was embarrassing to fake sleep halfway through, and Wen Ke waited for Han Jiangque’s continuation for a while but didn’t hear it. Feeling awkward, he took the initiative to ask: “Is something wrong?”
“I was thinking, is it almost your heat period?” Han Jiangque’s voice came again.
Wen Ke was stunned.
Omegas usually wouldn’t easily disclose their heat periods to anyone because it was a time of weak willpower for them. Once an untrusted Alpha knew, unpredictable things could happen.
Being an Omega meant navigating many pitfalls in an ostensibly calm life, understanding many unwritten rules for self-protection.
But Wen Ke didn’t grow up as an Omega, and many things he understood came too late.
After a while, he stammered, “You remember.”
He thought Han Jiangque wouldn’t possibly remember.
Han Jiangque’s memory had always been surprisingly poor, a habit Wen Ke got used to in high school. Sometimes he wondered if Han Jiangque’s inner world had its own little universe, and he simply didn’t care much about the outside world.
“Yeah.”
Han Jiangque fell silent again for a long time, then suddenly asked, “Wen Ke, the reproductive organs… are here, right?”
As he spoke, his palm, through the blanket, slowly moved to the area below Wen Ke’s abdomen.
Wen Ke hesitated for a moment, then reached out from under the blanket, gripping Han Jiangque’s hand and moving it up a few centimeters, then whispered, “Here.”
Despite the thick blanket between them, Wen Ke could seemingly feel the warmth of Han Jiangque’s palm.
“Does it hurt here?” Han Jiangque asked halfway, then added, “During the heat period.”
“…Yes.”
Wen Ke was a bit puzzled. The consultant of the LM Club shouldn’t be inaccurate even about the location of reproductive organs. But Han Jiangque’s tone was serious.
Wen Ke paused for a moment and continued, “During the heat period… Omegas need a lot, and if they don’t get marked continuously by an Alpha, it can be painful inside. But suppressants can be injected to alleviate it.”
At this point, Han Jiangque suddenly pulled Wen Ke’s hand and turned it over—
In the dim light of the night lamp, the needle marks near his wrist veins were alarming.
Wen Ke was an E-level omega, and the fragility of his reproductive organs made his heat period relatively prolonged. He craved his Alpha more than the average Omega. Yet, he had never received the thorough comfort he needed, and in the recent heat periods, he had injected the dose to almost an abusive level.
If it weren’t for this situation, the surgical removal of the mark wouldn’t have tormented him like this.
Wen Ke awkwardly tried to pull his hand back under the blanket, but Han Jiangque held onto it firmly.
They held this stalemate for a moment, and in the end, Wen Ke gave up first. He knew his strength could never compare to that of an Alpha.
“Does Zhuo Yuan not mark you?” Han Jiangque asked, holding his wrist.
The direct question left Wen Ke almost speechless. Subconsciously, he said, “He’s busy with work.”
It wasn’t an attempt to make an excuse for Zhuo Yuan; it was just something innate in him—rarely blaming others.
He was like a pliable dough, continually kneaded by life. No matter who rolled over him, he probably wouldn’t get hurt much, even less than a pebble on the road.
“Wen Ke,” Han Jiangque’s voice was low and heavy, word by word: “You shouldn’t have married him.”
A sharp pain shot through a certain part of Wen Ke’s body.
He almost used all his strength to maintain a steady tone: “Han Jiangque, I think we don’t need to discuss this.”
“Why?” Han Jiangque asked. “We used to be able to talk about anything.”
“Because it’s not the past anymore, we’ve changed.”
Wen Ke turned his head suddenly and looked at Han Jiangque. Word by word, he said, “There’s no ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t.’ Everything is just a choice—we’ve all grown up, become more mature. In these ten years, you don’t understand my life, and, of course, you won’t understand my choices. Just like, I don’t know what choices you’ve made in these ten years, but I won’t ask you, and I won’t pass judgment on whether it’s right or wrong because it’s not appropriate. This is the boundary between adults.”
He was surprised at how stern he sounded.
He had never spoken harshly to Han Jiangque. The words he just uttered were an unprecedented display of a strict attitude.
If it were the Han Jiangque from high school, he might get angry immediately.
Wen Ke remembered that rebellious anger that always lingered in him back then, easy to ignite but also easy to soothe.
But Han Jiangque now just looked quietly at Wen Ke.
In this close proximity, no emotion could escape from his pitch-black eyes. There was only a faint trace of disappointment.
He wasn’t angry; he just remained silent, lowering his eyelids.
His long eyelashes rested on his eyelids, carefully concealing his emotions. After a long time, he spoke softly, “You can ask.”
Wen Ke was stunned. “Ask what?”
“I mean, you can ask—my life in these ten years, the choices I’ve made. As long as it’s you asking… I’ll tell you.”
When he said this, he raised his eyes and looked at Wen Ke.
Wen Ke couldn’t find the words. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pang in his heart.
Throughout his adolescence, he would be deeply captivated every time he looked into these eyes. At that time, he couldn’t explain what magic Han Jiangque possessed.
But perhaps now he finally understood.
Han Jiangque’s eyes had a kind of youthful transparency, an innocence like a newborn wolf cub. The pupils were clearly as dark as the night, yet they were as beautiful as the sunrise.
Back then, he didn’t understand how precious this was. But now that he did, he felt so small, mundane, and unworthy when reflected in these eyes.
He had changed, but Han Jiangque hadn’t.
This fact made him so sad that he almost wanted to cry—
“Han Jiangque, I want to sleep,” he curled up in the blanket and said very softly.
“Okay.” Han Jiangque released his arm and, through the blanket, encircled his body with his arm.
The rich scent of whiskey surrounded Wen Ke; the S-class pheromones could truly provide an Omega with the most comfortable and secure feeling imaginable.
Whiskey…
Han Jiangque’s pheromone scent had matured; it wasn’t like this before. It used to be more green, more primitive.
Like the smell of wheat before fermentation and brewing.
Wen Ke remembered during physiology class when the teacher said that an Omega would only truly appreciate the beauty of Alpha pheromones after differentiation.
At that time, all the Omega students in the neighboring class liked Han Jiangque. Wen Ke often found it a bit exaggerated.
But finally, one day, he suddenly smelled Han Jiangque’s scent.
Wen Ke closed his eyes as if in a dream, and it seemed like he had returned to his senior year.
He couldn’t remember the specific day, only that the hot summer wind blew over them on the school’s track. He and Han Jiangque were lying on the track, but suddenly—
It was as if a new and completely different perception had been added to his body, aside from the five senses.
There was a strong, green wheat fragrance in the air, rushing into his nose.
He closed his eyes, but it felt as if he were lying in a golden wheat field. He could even sense the sound of the wheat swaying.
He twitched his nose, searching for the source of this scent, and then bumped into Han Jiangque’s chest. When he looked up, he could almost hear the thumping of his own heartbeat in his chest.
He panicked completely, just in that moment, not knowing why.
From that day on, his entire body unexpectedly began to undergo unexpected changes.
His nape occasionally felt tight, and his abdomen would ache for a long time.
Apart from these, he himself became abnormal.
He wished he could stick to Han Jiangque 24 hours a day. That sweet and charming wheat fragrance seemed to be teasing his senses at any moment.
And what was originally a normal AB class now made him feel troubled. He could sensitively smell different scents on his Alpha classmates, very complex and impactful, some even making him feel oppressed and uncomfortable.
He quickly realized a terrible thing—
He might not be a Beta after all.
This frightened him.
The world at the age of seventeen or eighteen was strange; it could be infinitely vast and, at the same time, infinitely small.
Small as if taking away a flower or a blade of grass could make this whole world collapse.
At a time when nothing was certain, the only person he told was Han Jiangque. Two teenagers who weren’t yet adults secretly skipped class and went to the hospital for an examination.
While waiting in the hospital corridor, Wen Ke suddenly gathered courage and held Han Jiangque’s hand.
He had been Han Jiangque’s little follower for three years, following him through the streets, sticking to him to study, and even enduring beatings from delinquent youths for Han Jiangque. He did everything for Han Jiangque.
But many youthful thoughts were never spoken out loud.
The ambiguity of youth wasn’t true ambiguity because he hadn’t understood his own heart.
But sitting in that deep, long corridor with the pungent smell of disinfectant, it was as if he stood on the edge of a cliff. Suddenly, he summoned the courage, fully aware that Han Jiangque disliked Omegas, but he still reached out his hand.
That was his desperate confession—
Whether Beta or Omega, at the crossroads of destiny, I want to hold your hand and never let go.
In that moment, even now, recalling it brings a thrilling and heart-stirring courage.
…
Many years later, he happened to watch the movie “The Grandmaster.”
When Mr. Yip said, “If life has four seasons, I was in spring until the age of forty.”
Wen Ke, sitting in the dark, suddenly shed a tear.
If life has four seasons—
The vibrant summer of youth quietly ended with that one hand-holding moment.
From then on, life became harsh, a bitter winter every year.