MWMM Chapter 93: That Uncle Over There Has Been Watching You for a Long Time
by justmistyYan Yuzhou returned to his flower shop. During his absence, Lin Xiaoguo had been helping him look after it. Not only had the shop not fallen into disrepair, but business had actually been running quite well.
He picked up a fresh bouquet of wild roses and prepared to trim them. Roses, when used as gifts, typically needed to be de-thorned. He grabbed his tools, ready to remove all the thorns from the stems.
As he picked up one of the roses, he stared at it in a daze. Shen Ci used to love biting into his neck during his heats—ferociously—and calling him “Little Rose” in a muffled but deeply affectionate voice.
A smile unknowingly tugged at the corners of his lips. He felt a sudden heat at the back of his neck and reflexively reached up to touch it—only to feel nothing but smooth skin.
Snapping back to reality, his smile froze.
These past few days, in Lin Xiaoguo’s novel, no matter how many omegas she tried to pair Shen Ci with—delicate nurse ladies, pure boys from the company, clean-cut omega doctors, or the sunny delivery guy—each and every one of them had a compatibility score with Shen Ci of over 80%. And yet, Shen Ci remained cold as ice, indifferent to all of them, utterly unresponsive to the allure of their pheromones.
Instead, he stayed outside Yan Yuzhou’s hospital room, day after day, doing nothing except watch the door. Aside from the basic necessities of eating and resting, he never moved.
Just watching that made Yan Yuzhou’s heart ache.
He opened the novel app and clicked on the latest chapter.
“Shen Ci looked even paler than the day before. Days of constant vigil had worn him down considerably, but his gaze remained unchanged, fixed unwaveringly on the omega in the ICU—one who was destined never to wake again.
Perhaps he was waiting for something—something called a miracle.
But in this world, miracles are mostly illusions. Even if they exist, they don’t fall upon just anyone.
And just today, as misfortune would have it, Shen Ci’s rut began.”
His hand trembled, and his phone slipped from his fingers.
Those three words—rut phase—made his heart leap into his throat.
An alpha in rut desperately needed the comfort and presence of their own omega. Without it, their mood would become volatile, their aggression heightened. They could act out in dangerous, extreme ways.
Was Shen Ci… going to rely on that high-side-effect medication again to get through it?
Suddenly, a sharp sting in his hand pulled him back from his anxious thoughts. A rather large thorn on the rose stem had pierced deeply into the pad of his finger. As he plucked the thorn out, blood surged out as if it had finally been set free, rushing forth until a sizable droplet formed.
For a long moment, he just stared as the blood slowly began to clot, showing no intention of grabbing a band-aid. In that instant, he seemed dazed—he could almost hear Shen Ci’s voice ringing in his ears, hoarse and desperate, calling him back.
His eyes grew hot. He let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. Of course he wanted to go back.
He silently trimmed the rest of the roses, his mind wandering. His distraction led him to be pricked multiple times, yet he didn’t seem to mind. Eventually, he even began to offer his fingers to the thorns voluntarily.
Because every time he was stabbed, it was as if he could hear Shen Ci whispering beside his ear—calling him “Little Rose” with aching tenderness, then scowling as he wrapped his injured fingers.
That blend of pain and warped joy—he was becoming addicted to it.
Once he had finished trimming all the roses and tied them into a neat bouquet, ready for the customer to pick up, he rinsed his hands under the faucet. The cold water hit every cut on his fingers, sending sharp pain up his nerves.
The more it hurt, the wider his smile grew.
Just then, Lin Xiaoguo’s call came in. The ringtone shrilled like a death knell, jarring him to the core.
“Xiao Hua…” Lin Xiaoguo called his name, but then couldn’t bring herself to say more. Her voice was choked with sobs.
A sense of dread surged in his chest. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to sound calm. “What happened?”
On the other end, Lin Xiaoguo broke down into full-blown sobs, hiccupping between her words, her tone filled with guilt and sorrow.
“…The latest chapter… you died. Shen Ci… followed you in death.”
In an instant, the chill in his fingertips spread through his entire body. His tears fell before he could even stop them.
It was as if his consciousness had been drained from him—his mind could no longer think for itself. Holding the phone, he stubbornly asked again, his voice barely audible, “What did you say?”
Then he heard Lin Xiaoguo sobbing even harder.
“I’m sorry, Xiao Hua… they couldn’t save you. When Shen Ci heard that you couldn’t be brought back… he lost control during his rut. He went completely mad—ran out and crashed his car into the guardrail of the city moat. The whole car plunged into the river, with him inside.”
In that moment, Yan Yuzhou’s heart stopped beating.
***
A week had passed. Ever since Shen Ci had driven into the river with his car, that novel hadn’t updated again.
It was as if the story had truly reached its end.
Readers had been raging in the comments for a full week. Lin Xiaoguo silently endured the backlash of being labeled the “Queen of Terrible Endings,” all while secretly keeping an eye on Yan Yuzhou.
Because Yan Yuzhou had been crying for seven days straight.
He’d often be trimming rose stems when the tears would start falling without warning. Or he’d be absentmindedly touching the back of his neck, quietly wiping his eyes. Other times, he’d hold a large bouquet of roses in front of him and stab his fingers on the thorns one by one. Only when the old wounds reopened and began to bleed would he start sobbing uncontrollably, cursing Shen Ci for ignoring him.
Lin Xiaoguo had even secretly contacted a hospital and, on her own initiative, made an appointment for him with a psychiatrist.
Because seeing Xiao Hua like this… it felt like only a mental health professional might be able to offer some kind of help.
It was summer, and the beaches of Wenjing were entering peak season once again. Every year in the past, Lin Xiaoguo and Yan Yuzhou would go to the seaside together to enjoy the sea breeze and sunbathe.
This year, when the time came, Lin Xiaoguo cautiously suggested a trip to the beach, and after a moment of silence, Yan Yuzhou agreed.
Yan Yuzhou went with the mindset of joining Shen Ci in death.
Since Shen Ci had died in the city moat, then if he were to drown himself in the sea, returning to the same source of water, wouldn’t that count as dying together with Shen Ci?
That day, his face was deathly pale, yet he was calmer than ever before. His tears seemed to have dried up, his eyes were dry and hollow, but there was a faint smile at the corners of his lips.
Shen Ci, I’m coming to find you. Wait for me.
While Lin Xiaoguo was busy sunbathing, Yan Yuzhou quietly changed into his swim trunks. Without attracting attention, he got up and walked to a less crowded spot. Staring at the waves before him, he began stepping slowly, one foot after another, deeper into the water. His movements looked just like someone practicing swimming.
If it weren’t for the look in his eyes — that calm, resolute gaze of one walking toward death — no one would have guessed that he intended to die.
Suddenly, something clung to his leg, halting his steps. He looked down to find a cute little boy, stark naked, grinning up at him while hugging his leg. The child spoke in a soft, sticky voice, “Big brother, there’s an uncle over there who’s been watching you for a long time.”
After speaking, the boy pointed with his chubby little arm to somewhere not far away.
Yan Yuzhou frowned in confusion and followed the direction of the child’s finger. When his gaze met a pair of deep, burning eyes, his long-dead heart suddenly pounded violently.
Not far away, a man dripping wet was walking toward him, holding a bath towel in one hand, his expression thoroughly displeased. When he reached Yan Yuzhou, he saw the sudden wetness in his eyes, pursed his lips, and draped the towel over Yan Yuzhou’s shoulders. Then, with one arm, he pulled him into a tight embrace and leaned in to demand domineeringly by his ear:
“As my omega, who allowed you to wear so little in public?”