MWMM Chapter 80: Removing the Gland

Yan Yuzhou was cradled in Shen Ci’s arms, crying aggrievedly. His small fists kept pounding against Shen Ci’s chest. “You’re so annoying. I told you to leave because I didn’t want you to see me like this. If you see me like this, you definitely won’t like me anymore. Then what am I supposed to do?”

Shen Ci was amused by his tearful accusations. “How could I not like you, silly? I don’t even have enough time to love you. I told you, you’ll always be my omega—for this lifetime and the next. No matter how low our pheromone compatibility is, I just like you, baby.”

Moved by his words, Yan Yuzhou’s tears fell even harder. The discomfort in his body seemed to ease slightly, and he finally leaned quietly against Shen Ci’s chest. He silently breathed in the scent of fresh blood lingering in the air, each inhale tugging painfully at his heart.

The doctor arrived just in time and administered a sedative. Although the drug’s effect was minimal at this stage, it served as a kind of psychological comfort. Yan Yuzhou’s near-breaking emotional state eased significantly, and he even drifted into a deep sleep in Shen Ci’s arms.

Once Yan Yuzhou was settled, the doctor pulled Shen Ci aside to treat the wound on his neck. Finally, the doctor sighed. “President Shen, your partner’s condition is getting worse. The sedatives are barely effective anymore. From here on out, it’s all up to his own endurance. If he can’t make it through, I suggest handing him over to a detox center. After all, pheromone addiction is quite similar to drug addiction. That way, you can free up some time to focus on other things.”

Without a word, Shen Ci returned to the ward. Seeing Yan Yuzhou sleeping peacefully on the bed, he reached out to gently brush over his defenseless sleeping face, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. This strong, loving Zhouzhou—he’d have to be insane to give him up. Rather than letting him suffer alone, he’d rather suffer with him.

—

Shen Ci fully committed himself to a long-term battle. He handed the company over to Han Yun and Liang Xin to manage entirely. He had Sister Song bring all of their daily necessities to the hospital and arranged for her to deliver three meals a day. He also took care of Yan Yuzhou’s leave of absence from school.

Every time Yan Yuzhou tried to persuade him to return to work, Shen Ci would brush it off lightly, changing the subject. Even matters of importance were handled via remote meetings or through Liang Xin personally coming to get his instructions.

Shen Ci even started managing all of Yan Yuzhou’s daily needs, from meals to clothing. This once cold and decisive business mogul had completely transformed into someone who doted on his lover as if his life depended on it.

This version of Shen Ci gave Yan Yuzhou immense comfort. But every time he saw the scar on Shen Ci’s neck—the one he had bitten so fiercely—his heart would sink.

Clutching the bedsheet beneath him, he silently lowered his gaze and bit his lip.

All he ever seemed to bring Shen Ci was trouble. He was nothing but a burden.

That night, Shen Ci had a remote meeting scheduled in advance by Han Yun, joined by several board members. In the midst of it, Yan Yuzhou’s cravings suddenly surged.

He lay down calmly, as if nothing was wrong, curling himself tightly under the blanket. His fingers clutched the bedsheet beside him in a death grip. His eyes were bloodshot, his lips pale from being bitten too hard, and his limbs were taut and pinned down against the bed. He forced himself to stay still, not allowing the slightest movement or sound.

He didn’t want Shen Ci to lose the career he was most proud of because of him.

Sweat dripped from his forehead, and before long, the person under the blanket looked as if he’d been doused in water—completely soaked. It felt like thousands of ants were crawling inside him, from his limbs, chest, the crown of his head, down to his waist and abdomen. They circled, gnawed, screamed, and rioted. Waves of dizziness surged toward his brain and gland, exploding like fireworks before his eyes, plunging him into a dreamlike trance.

Yan Yuzhou nearly cried out from the pain. His body curled up tightly, one hand clamped over his mouth, the other reaching behind his head, pressing down hard on the spot where his gland was located.

It hurt so much.

If it weren’t for the gland, he wouldn’t have to endure this kind of soul-ripping torment. He wouldn’t be dragging down someone like Shen Ci, making him give up everything just to stay by his side.

If only he didn’t have this gland—then maybe Shen Ci wouldn’t have to keep watch over him day and night. Maybe he wouldn’t be addicted to that bastard’s pheromones. Maybe he could finally escape this never-ending hell.

The hallucinations burst again before his eyes like dazzling fireworks, driving him into a brief moment of obsession. The hand pressing on his gland curled into a claw. He dug his fingers in with ruthless force, hooking around the swollen protrusion and yanking hard. The already engorged gland became even more inflamed. Some areas had even begun to bleed from the pressure of his nails.

Yan Yuzhou clenched his teeth, refusing to make a sound, yet a smile began to creep across his lips.

If he could tear out the gland, maybe everything would finally be over.

Shen Ci, I’m so tired.

Suddenly, the darkness before his eyes was shattered. A chill swept over him as the heavy blanket was yanked away.

Yan Yuzhou jolted, a cold dread seizing his heart. He froze for only a moment, but the hand digging into his gland didn’t stop, continuing to exert all the strength he could muster.

Then he heard Shen Ci’s furious, anguished shout ring out beside his ear. The next instant, his wrist—still clawing at his gland—was struck hard, sending a jolt of pain through him as if his wrist had snapped. His fingers went limp, and a large hand swiftly covered the area where he had been clawing, now torn and bloody.

Turning his head slightly, Yan Yuzhou saw Shen Ci’s eyes—eyes that churned with a storm of overwhelming emotion.

In that moment, a disheartened thought crossed his mind: It seems I’ve caused Shen Ci trouble again.

Yan Yuzhou, could you be any more useless?

What happened next, Yan Yuzhou could no longer clearly remember through the pain. All he recalled was a voice—familiar and urgent—roaring angrily at his unconscious self. It was a voice filled with a desperate kind of heartache, yet it carried such a familiar warmth that even in his endless darkness, it made him feel safe.

He didn’t know how much time had passed—perhaps a day, perhaps several. He felt as though he were drifting on a vast ocean, his body weightless. Snippets of words floated through his ears—“gland repair,” “emergency treatment,” “hemostatic clamp,” “ventilator.” He could feel people manipulating the area on the back of his neck, but no matter what they did, it never quite felt like that big, warm hand that had once comforted him before he passed out.

When he finally opened his eyes, consciousness gradually returning, it was morning.

Sunlight poured through the window, bringing with it the hopeful glow of a new dawn—as if he had just survived a long, eternal night and been reborn.

*********

T/N: My heart aches for Zhouzhou but selfishly I’m glad he did this. It might be the best solution to the problem.