Chapter 60
Tan Ning was now certain: Lin Song’an was hiding something from him.
He stared intently at Lin Song’an, who kept avoiding his gaze, forcing a relaxed tone as he asked, “What did you just call me? Say it again, would you?”
Tan Ning’s sobs quieted. He withdrew his disbelieving gaze and slowly loosened his hold, his fingers sliding down from Lin Song’an’s face, along his arm, and finally dropping powerlessly.
Countless thoughts crowded his mind, both good and bad.
“Lin Song’an, are you planning a proposal? Are you going to surprise me by secretly showing up next week, hiding at home, then kneeling down the moment I open the door?” Tan Ning clung to one last hope. “If that’s the case, I won’t be mad at you.”
He hugged Lin Song’an tightly, pressing himself close.
Wearing only his pajamas, Tan Ning’s warmth seeped through the cotton fabric, soft and almost feverish, no longer the cold, detached “little cat” from before.
Lin Song’an’s smile faltered.
He tried to shift the subject. “Propose at home? That’s not a surprise. I’ll definitely find a more surprising way to propose.”
Lin Song’an never usually dodged questions like this.
The light in Tan Ning’s eyes slowly faded.
Abruptly, he pushed Lin Song’an away. “What are you really planning?”
Lin Song’an didn’t answer.
Tan Ning wasted no time. He strode into the bedroom, picked up Lin Song’an’s phone, but Lin Song’an caught his wrist. “Ning Ning, wait.”
“Lin Song’an, won’t you let me see your phone? Are you starting to keep secrets from me?”
“No.”
“The password is still 210315, right?”
“It is.”
Fighting back tears, Tan Ning raised his chin. “I could still transfer out all your money?”
“Of course.”
Tan Ning’s fingers hovered over the screen as he entered the passcode, pressing each number slowly. When he reached the final “5,” Lin Song’an gripped his wrist tightly, preventing him from continuing.
They locked eyes, the tension mounting.
Lin Song’an couldn’t bring himself to use too much force, and Tan Ning’s gaze grew harder. They were at a standoff, with Lin Song’an still silent.
But the more he dodged, the more real Tan Ning’s worst suspicions felt. He remembered that narrow road in Xuan City, where Lin Song’an had crouched down to tell a young boy, “Being an alpha is no big deal. I don’t even want to be one.”
This wasn’t baseless; signs had been there all along.
“Let go,” Tan Ning said coldly.
But Lin Song’an pulled him into his arms, his breath hot and labored by Tan Ning’s ear. “Just give me a month, Ning Ning. Please? By the end of the month, I’ll fly over, waiting right here until you get home from class. Not a second late.”
“Let go.”
Lin Song’an didn’t let go, pressing Tan Ning against him, but Tan Ning broke free, seething with anger. “You better have cheated on me, Lin Song’an. You’d better be betraying me because if it’s anything else, I won’t forgive you!”
Tan Ning had always been an insecure person. He never thought he’d be able to say something like this. After experiencing his parents’ betrayal, he had never put loyalty to a relationship above all else, realizing some things were more important.
He spoke this threat without hesitation.
After two years of dating, he knew exactly the kind of man Lin Song’an was.
He had little confidence in himself but absolute confidence in Lin Song’an—not because of his own charm, but because he trusted Lin Song’an.
Pressing the final “5,” the phone unlocked, and Tan Ning’s photo appeared as the wallpaper. He opened the messaging app to see the top conversation: Dr. Jiang.
Tan Ning clicked on it.
Two files were there, titled Introduction to Alpha Gland Removal Surgery and Pre- and Post-Surgery Precautions.
His mind went blank, his worst fears confirmed.
It was true—Lin Song’an was going to prove that being an alpha was nothing to him, that he didn’t even want to be one.
Tan Ning’s hands trembled, his whole body shaking. Lin Song’an wrapped his arms around him, rubbing his back. “Ning Ning, it’s really nothing.”
Tan Ning blurted out, “And last month’s rut period? Wasn’t it supposed to be gone? Did the medicine work or not? Did it?”
“It did, it’s just—”
“You still won’t tell me the truth!”
Lin Song’an finally admitted, “That time, I took a sedative injection early.”
Tan Ning shoved him out of the room and slammed the door, quickly locking it.
They were separated by an impenetrable barrier.
Tan Ning slumped against the door, burying his face in his hands as silent tears streamed down.
A heavy sense of despair washed over him.
He should have seen this coming.
What miracle drug could completely ease a level-nine alpha’s rut period? If it were that easy, wouldn’t earlier medications have done something?
So lost in his academic and romantic success, he’d thought overcoming family history and past obstacles was the end. He’d forgotten the biggest barrier between him and Lin Song’an was biology itself.
He was normally so cautious. How could he have trusted Lin Song’an so fully on something this crucial?
“Lin Song’an, please don’t do this.”
Lin Song’an leaned against the other side of the door, sighing, “I’m not doing anything crazy, Ning Ning. This is a legitimate surgery, and I found the best experts in the country. They’ve studied all my physical indicators, assessed the risks, and determined that I can go through with it.”
“Why do you have to remove the glands? We can wait—however long it takes. There will be a solution eventually.”
“A suppressant won’t be enough for us…” Lin Song’an’s head rested back against the door. “Ning Ning, I want to let go of all these awful restrictions, to be free from the burden of pheromones and the alpha label, to just live simply.”
Tan Ning shook his head through quiet sobs.
“If these level-nine pheromones stop me from being with the person I love, make him constantly worry, and threaten to add unpredictable risks to our future decades together, then what’s the point?”
Lin Song’an sounded so calm.
Tan Ning almost nodded in agreement, but clarity returned. “Does your mother know?”
“She does.”
Tan Ning swallowed thickly.
“She cried, but she didn’t stop me.”
After he first contacted the specialists, Lin Song’an had brought the expert’s report to Fang Jin, much like when she had taken his pheromone profile to the gene pool for the best genetic match. This was something he decided on his own.
When Fang Jin saw him, she looked surprised. “Not busy today? What brings you here?”
“Mom,” Lin Song’an had said, placing the report on her desk. “I’m going to have a surgery.”
She took one glance at the report and tossed it aside, horrified. “Impossible. I can’t let you do this.”
Lin Song’an stayed silent.
Then she realized he hadn’t come for permission.
Whether she agreed or not wouldn’t change anything.
Fang Jin left her seat and walked to the window, covering her face as she wept. Lin Song’an came up behind her and held her.
“Mom, I’m not doing this impulsively. I’ve thought about it for a long time. I just don’t think being an alpha is all that meaningful.”
Lin Song’an easily enveloped her in his arms. She realized then that her son had grown up—so much taller than her, strong and mature. He’d survived her restrictive love and obsessive control to become a powerful man, one who now had someone in his heart and was ready to take responsibility for his life.
“Have you made up your mind?”
“Yes.”
“Does Xiao Ning know?”
“Not yet.”
She wiped her tears, saying only, “Don’t keep it from him.”
In the end, though, Lin Song’an had kept it from Tan Ning.
“Do you think you’re being some kind of romantic hero?” Tan Ning’s sharp question broke Lin Song’an’s train of thought, snapping him back to reality.
Lin Song’an’s eyes reddened.
“Your love is just so grand; I should be so grateful to be loved by someone like you. Are you trying to make me feel guilty for the rest of my life?” Tan Ning gritted his teeth, furious.
“Maybe you think I’m too haughty in front of you, too cold. Now you’ve got something on me, and I’ll never be able to stand tall with you again.”
“You’re removing your glands for me. What am I supposed to do to repay that?”
“I don’t feel moved—not one bit…”
Before he could finish, Lin Song’an interrupted, “I do feel honored to be loved by you.”
Tan Ning stopped, stunned.
“That’s genuinely how I feel, Ning Ning. To sacrifice for the person you love is a privilege.”
Tan Ning broke down into loud sobs.
“Without the glands, there won’t be any more rut periods, no more pheromones, no need for those thick suppressant patches on my neck. Isn’t that wonderful? Though, there are some drawbacks—recovery will take about half a year, and I won’t be as energetic as before. But the doctor says that if I stay fit, I can still live normally.”
Lin Song’an chuckled, “Maybe that means I won’t be able to keep you up with all sorts of things until three or four in the morning for the first six months. Ning Ning might have to take over a bit more.”
Even now, he couldn’t resist teasing him.
“It can’t have no side effects at all, can it?”
There were other side effects, Lin Song’an thought, but nothing worse than seeing Tan Ning hurt because of him. He would never allow Tan Ning to be hurt for his sake again.
The clock ticked slowly, each second dragging by.
One last time, Tan Ning pleaded, “Lin Song’an, can’t you wait until my school break? Then, if you still decide to do it, I won’t object, and I’ll take care of you.”
He unlocked the door and looked down at Lin Song’an.
Lin Song’an looked up at him, his expression soft and warm. “But isn’t it better to pull off the Band-Aid? Isn’t it, Ning Ning?”
Tears slipped down Tan Ning’s face again.
“The surgery is already scheduled, and I’ve adjusted everything at work.” He reached out, and when Tan Ning hesitated, he gently pulled him into his arms.
“Ning Ning,” he whispered, “I’m so grateful for this surgery—it lets me show you my love in the most profound way.”
He kissed Tan Ning’s face and lips gently and wrapped him close, holding him like the treasure he was.
“Ning Ning, this is my way of loving you completely.”
