An Yao’S Observation Diary Chapter 4

March 19th, Wednesday, Fog

An Yao cried for a long time yesterday.

His tears were like the continuous drizzle of the Spring Dampness, pattering down as if they would never stop. Although the tears were cold, the moment they landed on my shoulder, they felt scalding, leaving me feeling helpless. The fabric of my shirt gradually became soaked, leaving a dark water stain that looked exactly like a comical, miserable face.

An Yao’s pain was too long and too deep; any words of comfort would have sounded too pale and powerless. The only thing I could offer at that moment was a hug.

I waited quietly, watching his cries transition from the initial, loud release to weak sobs, until they finally subsided completely, leaving only steady breathing.

Did he fall asleep? I wondered. It made sense. An Yao’s body hadn’t fully recovered, and now he had experienced such an emotional upheaval. Falling asleep from exhaustion was normal.

I was about to pick up An Yao and take him to the bedroom to rest, but then I noticed someone secretly making small movements in my arms: the little one suddenly curled up, burying his face deeply. His light gray hair slid to the side with the movement, revealing half of a bright red ear.

It turned out the child was just shy.

I couldn’t help but chuckle softly, “An Yao?”

An Yao visibly stiffened, burying his face even deeper.

“It’s alright,” I reassured him. “If the shirt is wet, it’s wet. We can just wash it.”

An Yao’s ear tips were so red they looked ready to bleed. He seemed to be burning up, and it took him a long time to manage a strained sentence, “…I’ll wash it for you.”

“No need,” I suppressed a laugh. “We have a washing machine at home.”

I instinctively raised my hand and rubbed his head. The sensation in my palm was too lingering. By the time I snapped back to reality, I didn’t know how long I had been rubbing, acting like a pervert with wandering hands.

—After all, for an Alpha and an Omega who had only known each other for a few days, our proximity was crossing a line.

“You shouldn’t do this, you should keep your distance from An Yao,” reason screamed frantically in my mind. “An Yao is already so pitiful; he cannot endure another painful experience.”

But, but…

I lowered my gaze, my eyes filled with the sight of An Yao’s slightly reddened eye sockets.

I couldn’t bear to stop.

Perhaps it was because An Yao was too pitiful, perhaps it was because the feeling of his hair in my palm was too endearing, or perhaps, after all is said and done, I was simply…

I was simply defeated by my own selfishness.

Perhaps, like An Yao, I was also craving an embrace. We had both been lonely for too long, needing a tight physical embrace to pull our wandering souls back into our weary bodies and settle firmly on solid ground. At least in this moment, we could both cast aside all the complex matters in our minds and quietly enjoy this warm embrace, doing nothing but listening to the gradually synchronized, thumping heartbeats.

I didn’t speak again; I just held An Yao tighter.

We held each other tightly for a long, long time, so long that it seemed to span the decades before, making up for all the missed hugs.

“An Yao, don’t be afraid,” I whispered. “It’s safe here.”

“There won’t be bad people, and no one will bully you.”

“I’m here.”

An Yao suddenly lifted his head, his eyes misty, looking as if rain was about to fall again.

He rubbed his eyes helplessly, the force so strong that the surrounding skin turned red. I quickly stopped his movement, using my physical advantage to securely cradle him in my arms, and pulled out the alcohol wipe I carried with me.

An Yao instinctively reached out to take it, but I took the opportunity to cup his face.

“Let me do it,” I said. “You’ll hurt yourself if you keep rubbing.”

The wipe gently brushed over his reddened eye corners, carefully wiping away the streaked tears. An Yao obediently tilted his face up, his eyes wide and round, like a small animal being held in its owner’s palm for the first time. Even his breathing was soft.

“I’ll boil two eggs later for you to put on your eyes,” I tossed the used wipe into the trash. “Otherwise, your eyes will be swollen tomorrow, and that won’t feel good.”

I looked him over and inexplicably smiled, “Little bunny.”

An Yao’s face instantly flushed. He stammered for a long time, then lowered his head and didn’t speak again.

I suddenly realized what nonsense I had just uttered and was about to apologize when I noticed that our posture was far too intimate—my arm was wrapped around his waist, and his hair lightly brushed my chin. We were so close we looked like a pair of lovers.

I felt my face instantly burn up.

“I-I’m sorry!” I quickly let go and pulled back, creating distance. “I didn’t notice. Did I make you uncomfortable?”

An Yao was wearing my loungewear, the sleeves far too long. When he covered his face, he looked like a small hamster. “N-no…”

He stammered, “I know Doctor Lin was comforting me…”

I involuntarily covered my own face as well.

We stood there awkwardly, facing each other with our faces covered, silently burning for a while before we managed to calm down.

“A-anyway, you should stay here and rest well,” I cleared my throat, trying to steady my voice. “I’ll give you a spare phone later, so it’s easy to contact me, and convenient if you want to look up something to learn…”

“D-do I need to learn something?” An Yao asked softly, then quickly added, as if realizing something, “I learn things very quickly, really…”

I paused slightly.

An Yao lives too rigidly. I thought.

He seems to be busy all the time, never allowing himself a moment of leisure. Even though his body hasn’t recovered, he constantly finds ways to do chores. While others push back and forth over who should do the work, here we are arguing over who gets to do the chores. An Yao works if there’s work, and finds work if there isn’t, just as if…

Just as if he’s worried about being abandoned because he has no value.

My heart suddenly tightened.

An Yao, what exactly did you go through in the past to make you this way? You should be laughing freely in the sunlight, you should be doing whatever you want without restraint, instead of being so cautious about everything, terrified of being disliked by others, terrified of being the one “given up on.”

I took a deep breath, clearing the complex thoughts from my mind, and silently stuffed an extra cushion into An Yao’s arms. It was a soft, fluffy little rabbit, plump and round, staring with tiny bean eyes.

An Yao found it amusing and secretly pinched the rabbit’s ear, a pleasant curve unconsciously forming at the corner of his mouth.

My heart softened at the sight, and I couldn’t help but curve my eyebrows into a smile.

“Other things aren’t important,” I said. “But I think there’s something that suits you very well. Want to try it?”

An Yao looked at me curiously. “What is it?”

“Relaxation,” I replied. “An Yao should learn how to relax.”

He widened his eyes in disbelief. “…Relaxation?”

“No, no,” An Yao instinctively refuted, then suddenly curled up, looking at me cautiously. “I’m not saying what you said is wrong…”

“I’m not angry,” I couldn’t resist secretly rubbing his head again. “We’re just chatting, don’t be nervous.”

Forgive me. I thought. An Yao’s head is really soft. The fuzzy feeling under my fingertips makes my heart soften considerably with every rub.

Fortunately, An Yao didn’t seem to mind. Instead, it helped him relax his tense nerves. “I’m just worried… if I don’t do anything, there will be no one to do the chores at home.”

“We have a washing machine,” I said with a smile. “And a robot vacuum.”

“Then, then what about washing dishes?” he stammered. “Someone has to wash the dishes, right?”

I suppressed a laugh. “The kitchen has a dishwasher.”

An Yao was clearly shocked that the house had so many things competing with him for work. His eyes were wide and round, the astonishment almost solidifying and spilling out of his pupils.

He mumbled and stuttered for a long time, finally lowering his head. “Then, what do I need to do?”

“No rush, we can think about it slowly later,” I said. “So, do you want to try it now?”

An Yao looked up, silent for a while. Just when I thought he would refuse, I suddenly felt a weight in my arms.

He had actually thrown himself into my embrace.

I instantly widened my eyes in shock. “…An Yao?”

The person in my arms looked up in confusion, his gray eyes staring blankly at me. “Doctor Lin? What’s wrong?”

I could barely find my voice. “Are you…?”

“Relaxing,” he softened his body, burying his face deeply in the crook of my neck. “Isn’t this how you do it?”

I really wanted to say no.

I originally just wanted the child to relax properly, to learn how to be lazy, how to slowly enjoy life. Even if it was just squatting on the balcony tending to potted plants all day, or just lying lazily in a beanbag chair wasting time—anything to stop being so tense, to let himself off the hook, to understand that he, too, had the right to enjoy life forever.

Not like this, throwing himself into an Alpha’s arms and looking at me with such innocent, bewildered eyes.

“Yes,” I heard myself reply. “Just stay like this for a while.”

I really wanted to strangle myself.

Lin Qingyan! You are a shameless bastard! What exactly are you doing?! Do you know you are deceiving an innocent Omega?! You have betrayed An Yao’s precious trust! Your crime is heinous! You are utterly shameless! Being taken out and shot for five minutes would be too lenient!

What happened to the benevolence of a doctor?! What happened to the promise never to use your position for improper gain?! I think you studied until your brain turned to mush!

I fiercely condemned myself internally, yet my hands unconsciously tightened around An Yao. Perhaps because the damaged Gland could still perceive faint Pheromones, An Yao quickly softened in my arms, closing his eyes against my chest, looking as if he would melt into a small, soft pudding in my embrace the next second.

I wanted to pinch myself even harder.

Taking advantage of the situation! A heinous crime! I truly am a wicked, unforgivable villain.

An Yao was completely unaware of my internal turmoil. His breathing seemed to slow down considerably. I looked down and realized he had fallen asleep at some point. His eyelashes cast a shadow beneath his eyes, and he unconsciously rubbed against me a few times, like a cat, letting out soft little hums.

I need to remind him next time to be more cautious. I thought. It wouldn’t be good if someone took advantage of him.

I gently rubbed his head and carefully carried him back to the bedroom. An Yao sank into the soft bedding, seemingly swallowed up once the blanket was pulled over him.

Still too thin. I thought. I need to feed him more.

I originally intended to leave, but something inexplicably held my steps. Driven by a strange impulse, I returned to the bedside and gently tucked the corner of the blanket around An Yao.

I suddenly felt my heart racing terrifyingly.

What is wrong with me? I wondered. This is too strange.

I couldn’t figure it out. I just secretly leaned closer, reaching out like a thief, and cautiously touched An Yao’s eyelashes. He didn’t wake up, still sleeping soundly, but my fingertip was filled with an intense itch. In the space of a breath, this tingling transformed into a surging inferno that consumed me entirely.

My ears were burning again.

“It must be the change of season; I’ve caught the flu too,” I muttered. “I should mix up some Minor Bupleurum tomorrow.”