58: Enigma’s child isn’t that fragile
When Sheng Shaoyou opened his eyes, he caught the familiar scent of hypochlorous disinfectant.
In his daze, he heard a doctor’s anxious voice:
“Mr. Hua, your pheromone gland injury is severe. You need bed rest. Mr. Sheng will wake soon — please don’t worry. Go back and rest.”
“Go back? I’m not going anywhere. Just set up a bed next to Mr. Sheng’s, that’ll do.”
“But—”
“But what?”
“But at least let us examine the wound. Technically, you need surgery as soon as possible, otherwise—”
“No surgery needed,” Hua Yong said firmly. “This time’s different from last — it’s not a penetrating wound. Besides, my glands are the fastest-healing part of me. This kind of minor injury doesn’t even need stitches.”
Glands? Injured?
Sheng Shaoyou’s head ached as if splitting open, but stranger still was the heaviness and dull pain in his abdomen — low and throbbing.
He couldn’t help moving his arm, instinctively covering his stomach with a groan.
Whoosh—
Every eye in the room instantly turned to him.
A breeze carrying the scent of orchids rushed toward him.
“Mr. Sheng, you’re awake?”
Sheng Shaoyou opened his eyes to see a pale, familiar face. He stared blankly for a few seconds before remembering — he’d gone to dinner with Sheng Shaoqing that night.
And somehow, a simple meal had landed him in a hospital.
His head spun, his body heavy, limbs leaden and unwilling to move.
His unfocused gaze lingered on Hua Yong’s anxious face, then shifted to his bloodstained chest, snapping into focus.
“What happened to you?!”
Hua Yong quickly pressed him back, soothing:
“I’m fine. Take it slow — sitting up too fast isn’t good for your cardiovascular health.”
Seeing Hua Yong standing there soaked in blood was definitely not good for his cardiovascular health.
Sheng Shaoyou’s heart pounded out of rhythm, chest tightening painfully.
“How did this happen? Where’s Sheng Shaoqing?”
“Already at the police station,” said Chang Yu from the side. “The police here responded with impressive speed — quite admirable, really.”
Sheng Shaoyou was silent for a moment.
“Was it Sheng Shaoqing who did this?”
Hua Yong gazed at him obediently, saying nothing — as if he cared too much about his feelings to answer. He couldn’t bring himself to say aloud that his brother was not only useless but also a scumbag who had tried to murder him.
“Your wound—”
“I’m fine,” Hua Yong said. “But Mr. Sheng, your bloodwork isn’t back yet. I’m worried about you.”
An injured patient worrying about someone else?
Sheng Shaoyou frowned, about to speak, when a familiar voice interrupted.
“Did you prepay at this hospital or something? Don’t you ever get sick of hanging around here?”
Shen Wenlang entered, wearing his usual gloomy, cynical expression.
Spotting Sheng Shaoyou, he froze briefly, then sneered:
“Well, even hospitalized you drag your little family along?”
Even though Sheng already knew Hua Yong’s supposed “encounter” with Shen Wenlang was fabricated, seeing Shen still made him furious.
“Does my being hospitalized have anything to do with you?” he said coldly. “What — didn’t get beaten enough last time? You here begging for another round so you can get resuscitated on the spot?”
“Beaten?” Shen’s face darkened. “If not for that little lunatic standing next to you, Sheng Shaoyou, you think you’d have the upper hand against me?”
Sheng folded his arms, scoffing.
“Oh? Then why don’t you come over here and try me?”
If Hua Yong hadn’t been there, Shen might’ve actually stormed over to shut him up.
But with P-country’s little emperor standing there, soaked in blood and glaring like a knife — yeah, no thanks.
“Wenlang, don’t speak to Mr. Sheng like that. It’ll upset him.”
“Oh? And I’m supposed to be happy with the way he talks to me?”
“Don’t glare at Mr. Sheng like that.”
“What, a couple glares and he’ll die?”
“……”
Three days earlier, Gao Tu had officially resigned — so Shen’s foul mood was understandable.
Hua Yong didn’t bother to argue with someone too clueless to even know he’d been dumped. Instead, he turned to Sheng with a soft voice:
“Mr. Sheng, Wenlang’s had some trouble at home recently. Please don’t hold it against him.”
Shen snorted.
“Trouble? What trouble could I possibly have?”
Hua Yong froze, then smiled faintly instead of being angry.
This man, dying inside yet still stubborn — no wonder he had no wife!
Turning away, Hua Yong softly reported to Sheng:
“According to police investigations, the previous kidnapping attempt was also orchestrated by Sheng Shaoqing. Mr. Sheng, your brother—” He hesitated, choosing a gentler word.
“—isn’t very good.”
“Not very good?”
That was putting it mildly. The man deserved death.
In ancient times, someone like Sheng Shaoqing would’ve murdered his father and brother just to steal the throne.
Sheng Shaoyou lowered his face, sharp features darkened. He pressed his lips together without a word.
Having finally felt a shred of warmth from his brother only to be slapped with reality — of course it hurt.
Seeing this, Hua Yong’s heart ached with empathy, blooming like fireworks.
He softened his tone to console him:
“Fortunately, the drug wasn’t too toxic—”
“Yes, yes,” Chang Yu quickly chimed in. “Don’t worry, Mr. Sheng. The doctor checked already — Mr. Hua’s permanent mark helps accelerate your metabolism. The drug won’t have any lasting effects on you.”
“Permanent mark?” Sheng’s expression darkened further. He turned to Hua Yong.
“What’s that?”
Being glared at made Hua Yong’s head spin — he didn’t know how to answer.
He clutched his chest, gave a pained little hum, and collapsed back dramatically.
“What’s wrong? Doctor! Doctor!” Sheng panicked, grabbing his arm.
The medical staff, waiting nearby, rushed over and fussed around the “fragile” Enigma, checking blood pressure and heart rate.
Hua Yong closed his eyes, letting Sheng hold him, perfectly playing the role of a weak, compliant patient.
His shirt was stained red, his snow-white face pale and tragic — but he thought to himself: Good thing I didn’t change clothes.
The scene was chaotic.
Chang Yu and Shen exchanged helpless looks, watching silently from a distance.
After the examination, the doctor recommended a transfusion.
Chang Yu finally spoke up:
“Mr. Hua’s blood type is special — your hospital won’t have a match.”
“Our hospital has the largest blood bank in the Asia-Pacific,” the doctor boasted. “Just tell me his type.”
Hua Yong fluttered his lashes open and caught Chang Yu’s eye.
Chang Yu immediately interjected:
“Doctor, could I speak with you outside?”
In the hall, the doctor removed his mask and pressed:
“Mr. Hua has lost a lot of blood. Even if he’s healthy, he still needs a transfusion. Just tell me his blood type—”
“Type E.”
The doctor: …
It was a historic day — the day the And Mercy Hospital staff learned what a mythical Enigma really meant.
And then they received Sheng Shaoyou’s bloodwork report.
The entire department convened an emergency consultation, double-checking every number.
“Progesterone at 12.6 ng/mL?” the director gaped at the reproductive endocrinologist. “Are you sure the equipment isn’t broken?”
“We checked multiple times,” the specialist groaned. “If I hadn’t seen the report myself, I’d think I was still drunk from last night.”
“But how is this possible? The patient is an S-rank Alpha — and you’re saying he’s in early pregnancy??”
“Well, Director,” the endocrinologist murmured, “his partner — Mr. Hua — is an Enigma with type E blood.”
The director: ……
9:00 PM, Department Head’s Office.
Under the steady gaze of the Enigma himself, the experienced director felt a chill.
“Does the patient know yet?”
“No.” Hua Yong shook his head lightly, then asked:
“Is it confirmed?”
His pale neck was bandaged, his face drained of color, yet his expression was calm — even a little joyful.
“You’re sure the report is correct?”
“Yes,” the doctor replied heavily. “But considering the unknown drug exposure, you really should think twice—”
“Think twice about what?” Hua Yong flipped through the report, smiling gently. “Choosing its name?”
The director sighed.
“Frankly, as a doctor, I advise you not to keep it.”
Hua Yong still smiled, teeth white as snow.
“Are you suggesting my Alpha get rid of my child?”
The doctor swallowed but persisted.
“I know it’s hard to accept, but the risk—”
“In front of my Alpha,” Hua Yong said softly, stroking the report like it was a priceless gem, “please keep your advice and worries to yourself. Don’t make trouble for me, okay? Doctor.”
His tone was light, but the faint Enigma pressure made even the high-ranking director shiver.
This young man, stunning as a porcelain doll in the harsh fluorescent light, exuded something far from mere vulnerability.
His elegant fingers clutched the paper tightly — obsessed, greedy, ecstatic, resolute.
To him, this was a treasure that belonged only to him.
Whoever dared to touch it… would die.
“Enigma’s children aren’t that fragile,” Hua Yong stood, smiling down at the doctor.
“Thank you for the result. But—”
“—mind your mouth.”
He pushed a check across the desk — with a string of zeroes on it.
“I would really appreciate that, Doctor.”