WT Chapter 15

Chapter 15: The tightly pressed area gently rubbed.

Chapter 15: The tightly pressed area gently rubbed.

Because the nature of the assault incident was not yet finalized, the formalities would take some time.

Inside the quiet lounge, Wen Shixi, having taken antipyretic medicine, sat on a soft chair, covered with Jiang Quanyu’s wool coat.

His heartbeat slowly stabilized in the silence. Wen Shixi’s closed eyes trembled for a moment before finally gradually ceasing to move.

Jiang Quanyu’s beta assistant sat to one side, reviewing reports while watching over Wen Shixi’s rest.

Footsteps occasionally sounded outside the door. Wen Shixi used his muddled brain to try to distinguish which leather shoe sound belonged to Jiang Quanyu, until his consciousness gradually solidified.

Once his brain stopped functioning, Wen Shixi’s breathing became increasingly steady, and he fell asleep in just a few dozen seconds.

Half an hour later, the door slowly opened.

Jiang Quanyu stood outside the door, his gaze fixed on the sleeping youth in the room as the door swung open.

The large, dark coat enveloped the omega’s lithe, slender body, revealing half of his pale face at the edge, like an oversized, adorable sushi roll.

Jiang Quanyu’s expression shifted slightly. After a moment, he slowly walked into the room and approached Wen Shixi.

Seeing him arrive, the assistant lowered his voice and reported, “Mr. Wen fell asleep about half an hour ago.”

Jiang Quanyu nodded. “You can go back and rest now.”

As he spoke, he bent down and reached out, steadily picking up Wen Shixi.

Compared to the average omega, Wen Shixi wasn’t short.

But in the alpha’s arms, he still seemed particularly petite.

Jiang Quanyu supported Wen Shixi’s legs with one hand, gently cradling his slender neck with the other, allowing Wen Shixi to rest quietly in his embrace.

The practiced movements suggested that he had held him like this countless times many years ago.

His fingertips lightly brushed the suppression patch attached to the gland, a hint of pale pink peeking out at the edge, carrying a flaunting meaning.

Feeling the slight itch, Wen Shixi’s slender waist unconsciously twisted, adhering to the alpha’s body, the tightly pressed area gently rubbed.

Wen Shixi groggily smelled a familiar scent. His soft lips parted slightly, and he breathed in small, shallow breaths, as if drawing it in.

Jiang Quanyu’s pheromones, along with the residual pheromones in Wen Shixi’s body, gradually soothed his tense spirit as they nestled together.

Jiang Quanyu’s pheromones weren’t a natural scent. Rather, they were like a complex blend of amber wood, juniper berries, and red seaweed, much like a marine perfume with a long, lingering base note and a sense of oppression.

Each time he inhaled it, as it touched his nerve cells, he had a feeling of being tightly embraced and suffocated.

Wen Shixi was immersed in this scent. His dream surfaced from the darkness, transforming into a short, silent film with aged colors.

For all the children living in the orphanage, the betrayal of their parents was their first lesson in life.

Between two independent individuals, “unconditional love” was just a lie.

One had to be needed in order to not be abandoned.

Wen Shixi knew that he was brought to the Jiang family to replace Jiang Yan, the child who had passed away due to illness.

Playing the Grand Piano wasn’t difficult at all. As long as he kept playing and kept playing, he would eventually play better and better, becoming someone needed by Jiang Yan.

But Wen Shixi still underestimated Jiang Yan’s madness. His so-called efforts were all in vain.

He could never meet Jiang Yan’s expectations, and whether his hands trembled from playing or his wrist was inflamed and unable to move, he would never hear any affirmation.

The days spent at his uncle’s house were no different from before. Wen Shixi was still playing the piano.

Children were always stubborn. Moreover, his uncle also told him that if he could play better, perhaps one day he could return to Jiang Yan’s side.

Wen Shixi, only seven years old, couldn’t discern the casual perfunctory words of an adult.

He was a genius, a star that should have shone in the sky.

Yet he was even more like a clown trapped in the mud, gazing at a fantasy land unreachable through the piano.

The person who shattered this beautiful illusion was the “elder brother” who always stayed with Grandpa in the main building and who he rarely saw.

Perhaps disdaining the adults’ methods, or perhaps finding Wen Shixi’s piano playing too noisy and unpleasant, Jiang Quanyu endured for three whole years before finally, on Wen Shixi’s tenth birthday, he could no longer bear it and took Wen Shixi to the sanatorium where Jiang Yan resided.

During a sunny afternoon, Wen Shixi hid behind the door, watching the hysterical Jiang Yan smash the music player, scattering shards all over the floor.

Jiang Quanyu found a paper roll recording of Chopin playing himself, transcribed the audio into the player, played it for Jiang Yan, and lied, claiming it was Wen Shixi playing.

But even Chopin himself couldn’t gain Jiang Yan’s approval after the piece ended.

At that moment, Wen Shixi understood that what Jiang Yan wanted wasn’t a son who could play the piano at all.

In Jiang Yan’s mind, Jiang Yan was very clear that his son could never come back.

That night, the eighteen-year-old Jiang Quanyu led the tearful Wen Shixi home.

Then, in the evening, he overheard the servants discussing that Wen Shixi was sitting in the piano room, crying for an entire afternoon again.

The little boy, pampered in a wealthy family, was fair and cute. When he cried, his entire face was covered in pale pink, and his nose and the corners of his eyes were terribly red.

Wen Shixi’s crying was soft and weak, not at all disturbing, only like a pitiful, helpless little animal, fluffy and trembling.

For the first time in his life, Jiang Quanyu felt regret, regretting why he had to shatter the remaining hope and fantasy of this pitiful child.

Later that night, Jiang Quanyu had a servant buy a small cake.

Rong Yalan had said several times that she had given all the cakes he didn’t like to Wen Shixi.

Since Wen Shixi had eaten them all, he must have liked them.

The servants were apprehensive, watching the stern young master carrying a pink cake box into Wen Shixi’s piano room.

The room was spotless, and because there were no lights on, only soft moonlight filled the space.

Jiang Quanyu paused, looking at the trembling figure.

The little crybaby was sitting on the piano chair, still sobbing, his feet with teddy bear socks dangling back and forth.

Jiang Quanyu started walking again, opening the box as he went, and walked to the side of the piano, placing the cake on the lid of the piano keys in front of Wen Shixi.

Wen Shixi’s sobs stopped for a moment, then he said in a childish and somewhat angry voice.

“Don’t put things on my piano.”

Having just suffered a strong blow, Wen Shixi had thrown all the seniority and etiquette of the Jiang family to the back of his mind.

Jiang Quanyu was inexplicably scolded by a soft ball of dough, and he endured and endured before picking up the cake from the piano.

The next second, Wen Shixi smelled the rich, sweet fragrance of cream emanating from the cake, and his stomach rumbled.

The little crybaby stopped crying and was a little embarrassed.

Jiang Quanyu didn’t speak, pretending not to hear.

The piano room was quiet for a moment, the moonlight shining on Wen Shixi’s piano through the gauze curtains.

After a moment, Wen Shixi raised his hand and took the cake plate from Jiang Quanyu’s hand.

With a “thud,” Wen Shixi placed the cake tray back on the key cover.

Jiang Quanyu frowned: Didn’t this crybaby just say not to put things on his piano?

Wen Shixi scooped up a mouthful of soft cream with a spoon and stuffed it into his mouth.

Then, as the sweetness spread… Wen Shixi wanted to cry even more.

But he still didn’t cry out, only eating the cake while silently shedding tears.

“I don’t want to play the piano anymore.”

That day, Wen Shixi said this.

“I won’t play.” Wen Shixi rubbed his eyes, his small head filled with despair: “Send me back to the orphanage.”