DMPSA CH 14

Chapter 14: Memories Too Painful to Recall

Fifteen years ago, in July, on a stormy night.

Twenty-two-year-old Su Qing was home alone when he was suddenly struck by a high fever. His entire body ached, his restlessness was unbearable, and nothing seemed to help—not fever medication nor cold showers to bring down his temperature. He suffered through it alone until his mother returned home from her night shift, only to find him curled up on the living room sofa, delirious from the fever.

Su Qing’s mother, Su Mama, wasn’t exactly a meticulous person. Her husband had left her and Su Qing when he was just a child to start a new family with someone else. Left to raise her son on her own, Su Mama had to juggle multiple jobs to make ends meet, often too busy to attend to every detail.

Su Qing learned early on to take care of himself. Colds and fevers were dealt with by taking some medicine and resting for a few days. By this point, Su Qing was already a college graduate, searching for a job as a grown man, so his mother didn’t worry too much. She simply woke him from the sofa and told him to go back to his room to rest.

However, this fever dragged on for three days without breaking. By the end of it, Su Qing was so weak and disoriented that he couldn’t even get out of bed, let alone manage to eat a bowl of congee. It was only then that Su Mama realized something was seriously wrong and rushed him to the emergency room at the hospital.

After a series of medical treatments and examinations, Su Qing’s fever finally subsided. But the results of the tests revealed something unexpected—Su Qing wasn’t suffering from the flu or a simple fever; he had undergone secondary gender differentiation.

Su Qing’s Beta mother, who had been worried sick, was utterly stunned when she heard that her son—whom she had always assumed to be a Beta—had inexplicably differentiated into an Omega. Her mind went blank, and she suppressed her anger as she listened to the doctor explain Su Qing’s condition.

The doctor explained that most Omegas typically begin differentiating around the age of fifteen or sixteen, often accompanied by their first heat, during which their bodies exhibit signs of heightened arousal. But Su Qing had shown no such signs. The only symptom he displayed was a fever, with no indications of any sexual arousal or related phenomena.

At this point, the doctor turned to Su Qing, who was lying on the hospital bed, and asked, “Did you feel anything else during this time?”

Faced with such a personal question under his mother’s scrutiny, Su Qing found it hard to respond. But since it was a matter of his health, he reluctantly stammered out a response, hinting vaguely that during those days, he had experienced a few involuntary arousals, more frequently than usual.

Fearing he hadn’t explained clearly enough, Su Qing added in a small voice that it felt similar to morning arousal, which would subside on its own after a while.

The doctor shook his head after listening and explained, “That level of response is far too mild. During heat, arousal wouldn’t fade so easily. If it subsides on its own in such a short time, it doesn’t meet the typical criteria of a heat cycle.”

The doctor arranged for a gonadal ultrasound and blood tests, but the results were discouraging. Su Qing’s gland at the back of his neck was only half the size of a typical adult Omega’s gland and had never fully developed. Moreover, the concentration of pheromones in his blood was so low it was almost nonexistent.

Combining these clinical signs—an underdeveloped gland, delayed differentiation, absence of heat cycles, and the near-undetectable pheromone levels in his blood—along with the fact that neither Su Qing nor his family reported any neck injuries during his growth, the doctor diagnosed him with “severe congenital gonadal hypoplasia.”^[1]

Su Qing was an Omega with a severe glandular defect.

His body might possess the structure of an Omega gland, but it was essentially nonfunctional. Physiologically, his body likely functioned similarly to that of a Beta.

The condition of an undeveloped gland is distinct from damage to a mature gland. In the latter case, the body has already been exposed to pheromones, which integrate with other hormones in a delicate balance. If the gland is damaged and pheromone levels drop suddenly, it can disrupt the entire hormonal system, leading to imbalances that, if left untreated, can threaten an Omega’s life.

But Su Qing’s case was different. While he was technically an Omega with a gland, it had never developed, and his body had never secreted pheromones. Physiologically, he had never been exposed to the effects of pheromones. If untreated, he could continue living as a Beta, just as he always had.

The doctor, noticing the family’s modest means, tactfully explained that pursuing further treatment would require additional detailed examinations and that the therapy for this condition would be lengthy, complex, and extremely expensive.

Su Qing’s mother was furious upon learning that he had differentiated into an Omega. Without considering treatment or agreeing to any further tests, she hurriedly discharged her son from the hospital.

In truth, Su Qing could understand his mother’s anger.

His father had been an Alpha who fell in love with his Beta mother when they were young. After pledging their lives to each other, they had Su Qing and enjoyed a few happy years together.

But then their love story fell into the all-too-familiar tropes of a domestic melodrama. The Alpha met an Omega—a pairing with an innate and almost irresistible compatibility. The moment they met, sparks flew like a thunderstorm igniting a wildfire. Initially, his father tried to resist, but faced with the relentless pursuit of a wealthy, beautiful Omega whose biological allure was overwhelming, he ultimately succumbed. In the end, he abandoned Su Qing and his mother to leave with the Omega.

Su Qing’s mother harbored a deep hatred for Alphas, but her loathing for Omegas ran even deeper.

The pain of losing her husband and the father of her child to another woman was a wound that never truly healed. She had worked tirelessly to raise Su Qing on her own, only to discover that her beloved son had differentiated into the very thing she despised most: an Omega.

To her, all Omegas were despicable.

After that day, Su Qing’s relationship with his mother never returned to what it once was. Though they had never been particularly close, they had at least relied on each other—mutual care between a devoted mother and a filial son. However, after Su Qing’s differentiation, her attitude turned cold. On ordinary days, the change was subtle, mostly manifesting in a lack of conversation. But when she was overwhelmed by her emotions and drank herself into a stupor, Su Qing would hear her most venomous curses.

She would call him a filthy vixen, a defective, dirty fox. She even said it was better that he was defective—this way, even if he wanted to seduce someone, no one would be fooled by him.

That part of his past was long and stifling. Su Qing picked out the key details related to his condition to report to Dr. Yue. By the time he finished, he was lost in his own thoughts.

Due to years of overwork, depression, and alcoholism, his mother’s health had steadily declined, and she passed away when Su Qing was thirty years old.

Looking back on the entangled relationship he shared with his mother, Su Qing couldn’t decide which he felt more—gratitude for the first twenty-two years of care she had given him, or relief after enduring eight years of insults, scorn, and cold violence.

After hearing Su Qing’s medical history, Yue Qi felt a twinge of doubt. Such a significant diagnosis—was it made so casually? Usually, when faced with a serious condition, most people would seek second or even third opinions from multiple doctors to confirm the diagnosis, even if the treatment was ultimately unsuccessful.

“You didn’t undergo further examinations or treatments at the time?” Yue Qi asked.

Su Qing thought back to his mother’s reaction and shook his head with a somber expression. Forcing a smile, he mustered his strength to continue, “When I first differentiated, I knew my gland was defective and that I might not experience cycles. But just in case, I always kept inhibitors with me. The three-year shelf life of those drugs passed without me ever needing them, so I stopped carrying them after that.”

He clasped his hands together and leaned forward slightly to bow to Yue Qi. “I swear, I didn’t do it on purpose. Please believe me. This is the first time something like this has ever happened in all these years. I never meant to be unprepared or to lose control and hurt someone.”

I never meant to seduce you.
I’m not that kind of dirty, wicked vixen.

Yue Qi nodded, signaling that he believed him.

Su Qing sighed in relief, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Does Qin Yang know that you’re an Omega?” Yue Qi suddenly asked.

“Mm, Xiao Yang knows,” Su Qing replied, his tone light and detached.

No wonder Qin Yang was so sensitive about Yue Qi being an Alpha. It wasn’t unwarranted jealousy—it was rooted in genuine fear and insecurity.

Yue Qi’s earlier anger had been entirely dissipated by their conversation. He believed every word that came from Su Qing’s mouth and understood that behind each sentence lay struggles too painful to voice.

In contrast, Su Qing appeared utterly defeated. The night had been a whirlwind of panic and confusion—a sudden, inexplicable heat—and now, he was left having to humbly explain himself and beg for forgiveness. By this point, he was utterly drained, a shadow of his usual self.

He held his cup, sipping the tea in small, slow sips—not because it was hot, but because his spirits were so low that he barely noticed what he was doing.

Watching this dispirited figure, Yue Qi found himself strangely unsettled. Su Qing’s face wasn’t meant to wear such an expression. It didn’t suit him. It didn’t look good at all.

“Have you noticed what your scent is?” Yue Qi asked, looking at the tea before him.

As expected, Su Qing’s face was blank with confusion. It was only then that he realized he had caught a hint of osmanthus fragrance from Yue Qi earlier, but he had been so flustered that he hadn’t even identified his own scent. He wanted to ask Yue Qi if he had smelled it, but that kind of question—asking an Alpha if he could smell his scent—seemed far too suggestive. In the end, he simply shook his head.

“It’s Jin Xuan Oolong^[2],” Yue Qi said, tapping his finger lightly on the rim of his cup.

“Mm, that’s Jin Xuan. It’s the one you always drink,” Su Qing replied, pouring out Yue Qi’s cooled tea with the intention of refilling it with fresh brew. “Why didn’t you drink it? It’s already co—”

Before he could finish, Yue Qi was smiling at him. Su Qing slowly caught on, holding Yue Qi’s empty cup in his hand as he asked dumbly, “Are you saying that… my scent… is Jin Xuan…?”

The slight redness that had just begun to fade from Su Qing’s face flared back to life, burning even brighter.

“The tea smells great,” Yue Qi said, his voice laced with amusement. Taking his cup back from Su Qing’s hand, he poured hot water into it directly from the kettle. Cradling the cup as he blew gently on the steaming liquid, he said with a tinge of regret, “But I think I may not be suited to drink this tea anymore.”

Embarrassed, Su Qing covered his face with one hand, letting out a sigh. He rubbed at his forehead and blocked his view with his palm, feeling utterly foolish. How could he be so absentminded? To release his scent and then brew a pot of Jin Xuan Oolong right after—it was no wonder Yue Qi had refused to drink it.

Just as Su Qing wished he could dig a hole and bury himself in it, he heard Yue Qi speak again, his tone suddenly serious: “I’ll need some time to adjust. Tonight’s Jin Xuan… is a little too oolong.”

The tension broke, and Su Qing, who had been staring at the ground in embarrassment, felt the corners of his lips twitch upward. He couldn’t hold it in and burst into laughter. Yue Qi joined him, his hearty laughter filling the room.

Tonight truly was… Jin Xuan’s big oolong.^[3]

‘How wonderful,’ Yue Qi thought, watching Su Qing laugh. ‘Su Qing’s smile is so adorable, especially when he laughs like that.’

‘It’s such a pity, though,’ Yue Qi mused as his laughter softened, a pang of regret creeping in. ‘This adorable Omega already has a boyfriend.’

(To Be Continued…)

T/L: Oh Yue Qi… are you starting to fall in love?? kyaaahhh ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

---

***
If you enjoy this translation, consider giving it a high rating on Novel Updates! 🩷
Stay tuned, and happy reading! 📖✨