23: He wanted to see him fall like the moon, shatter like jade, sink like pearls
The X Hotel was only a twenty-minute drive from the apartment where Hua Yong had once lived.
But for Sheng Shaoyou, standing at the underground parking lot entrance, each second crawled by like torture. He had never known twenty minutes could feel this long.
Ai Heng had insisted with professional judgment that Sheng Shaoyou not go to the hotel in person. He was adamant: the employer, no matter how rich, had to wait obediently at home.
Left with no choice, Sheng Shaoyou sent a convoy of cars and bodyguards to wait outside the X Hotel.
Ai Heng stayed in constant contact.
To outsiders, Sheng Shaoyou was arrogant and self-important, lofty as the sun.
But to Ai Heng, this S-class Alpha handled his beloved Omega like a lost and priceless jewel he had finally retrieved—tentative and tender.
Throughout the journey, Sheng Shaoyou spoke a lot, but aside from the occasional response from Ai Heng, the Omega on the other end said nothing.
Ai Heng looked at the pale, nearly translucent face beside him and said with pity to Sheng Shaoyou, “Mr. Sheng, maybe hold off on talking for now. He doesn’t look well.”
Sheng Shaoyou’s heart clenched again, like it was pressed to a scalding iron plate—burning, hissing, sizzling in agony.
Ai Heng watched the Omega silently huddled in his robe, arms wrapped tightly around his slender body. His pale fingers clutched the fabric like he was trying to hide inside it—as if, by holding himself tightly enough, he could conceal all that had been done to him.
In the front seat, one of the Alpha bodyguards kept sneaking glances at him through the rearview mirror, unable to resist the orchid fragrance lingering in the air. His eyes were filled with desire, shameful yet itching with temptation.
Unfair as it was, all the misfortunes that had befallen this Omega stemmed from his stunning, breathtaking beauty. With a face like that, it was only natural to attract hunger and lust. A lamb without the means to protect itself, when thrown among wolves—its fate could be imagined.
And this Omega was the type that made every Alpha in the world drool uncontrollably.
Even just sitting in the car wrapped in a bathrobe, he looked like a living, breathing erotic painting.
The robe was sheer, and though clutched tightly, still offered glimpses of the blindingly white skin beneath.
The bodyguard’s eyes constantly roamed to that smooth chest, drinking in the whip marks, the bruises, and the trembling hands clutching the robe’s front—the savage wounds on his delicate wrists.
His features were angelic, abstinent.
But his broken expression, his fragile demeanor carried an unspeakable, corrupt sensuality. That face—whether crying, pleading, or numb and vacant—could arouse the darkest corners of any man’s desire. A face that made people want to ruin his innocence, shatter his fragility, watch him fall like the moon, break like jade, sink like pearls.
Ai Heng couldn’t bear it any longer. At the Nth time the bodyguard stole a glance, he snapped: “Hey, you! Do you have any professional ethics?! You’re paid by his Alpha, for god’s sake! Shut those pig eyes of yours!”
The fragile Omega beside him trembled again, instinctively.
Ai Heng immediately softened his tone. “Don’t worry. If he dares look again, I’ll pop his eyes out and crush them like marbles.”
Fortunately, before Ai Heng committed assault, the car finally pulled into the basement of an upscale residential complex.
Sheng Shaoyou, waiting in the lobby, rushed forward.
“Hua Yong! Hua Yong!” He was rarely so uncomposed—before the car had even stopped, he was already banging on the window, calling the Omega’s name.
Hua Yong’s response to the voice was faint. He looked up in a daze, as if the man shouting for him through the glass was no more than a mirage from some comforting dream.
Ai Heng, watching with sympathy, thought: This poor Omega must’ve dreamed of being rescued many times. But after so many nights of violation and disappointment, he no longer dares to hope—no longer dares to believe.
“Come on, we’re here.” Ai Heng said softly.
Sheng Shaoyou pulled the car door open from the outside.
Hua Yong shrank slightly as he stepped out. As soon as he steadied himself, he looked up into Sheng Shaoyou’s anxious face.
This top-tier Alpha, born with everything, had likely never experienced losing something so precious—his handsome, haggard face now twisted in pain and joy.
He pulled the Omega into his arms, pressing his hand against Hua Yong’s trembling neck, choking on his words: “Don’t be afraid. It’s over. You’re home now. We’re going home. Don’t be scared, Hua Yong. Be good. Don’t be afraid.”
Be good.
Perhaps, during all those nights of forced submission—when he couldn’t even see their faces—being told to “be good” was the most degrading command of all.
A raw, hollow pain flickered across Hua Yong’s face, like he’d been torn apart and stabbed again. Like a terrified kitten, he struggled violently, panic flooding his delicate frame.
But Sheng Shaoyou only held him tighter. His dry, sleep-deprived eyes welled up.
In just a month, the already-slight Omega seemed to have shrunk even more. His face now fit entirely in the palm of Sheng’s hand. That pointed little chin rested in his palm, so light it felt like a snowflake that might melt away at any moment.
“Don’t be afraid, Hua Yong. It’s me, Sheng Shaoyou. Look at me. Don’t be scared—it’s not someone else. It’s me.”
Hua Yong froze. His wide eyes filled with confusion. His lips—torn and red as blood—trembled as he blinked through the tears. “Mr. Sheng?”
Tears nearly fell from Sheng Shaoyou’s eyes. He planted frantic kisses on Hua Yong’s pale cheeks. “It’s me.” The Alpha’s voice was thick with emotion. Red-rimmed eyes locked onto the Omega he thought he’d lost forever. His throat ached, and a low whimper broke out: “Hua Yong. It’s me.”
Cracks finally appeared in Hua Yong’s numb expression. Raw anguish spilled through the fissure. His dark eyes regained a dim glow, like a dry spring after rain—shedding clear, bitter, hopeless tears.
“Mr. Sheng,” he said, unbelieving, barely audible.
His voice was the fragile cry of a baby rabbit skinned alive.
Sheng Shaoyou felt the same pain. Rage bubbled in his chest, but when Hua Yong finally returned the embrace—thin arms circling tightly around him—it locked him in place. The strength was faint, but it was enough to cage this powerful S-class Alpha, who was willing to share his pain for eternity.
Sheng Shaoyou only wanted to take his tormented Omega home quickly. To check every inch of his body and soul. To find every scar and rot. And to heal him.
Ai Heng knew this wasn’t the time to discuss payment. With rare generosity, he said, “Mr. Sheng, I’ll let you handle things for now. Contact me when you have time.”
Sheng Shaoyou nodded and ordered the driver to take Ai Heng back.
But just as Ai Heng was about to leave, he called out again, disdainfully pointing at the bodyguard in the front seat. “Mr. Sheng, someone like him isn’t worth keeping around. You didn’t see—he’s been ogling your Omega the entire drive. One slip-up, and he might cross the line. Then what?”
You can guard against outsiders, but not against snakes in your own house. Hiring an Alpha who clearly lusted after your own Omega was just asking for disaster.
Ai Heng figured it was only right to offer a little bonus advice after getting a hundred million. After all, Sheng Shaoyou’s Omega was too pitiful—and too beautiful. One couldn’t help but want to protect him.
The bodyguard broke into a cold sweat, trembling, unable to speak.
Sheng Shaoyou shot him a cold glare.
In that instant, the mid-ranked Alpha seized up and collapsed. He writhed on the ground in pain before foaming at the mouth and passing out.
“Aron, thank you. Everything I promised still stands. Once tonight is over, you can come claim your reward anytime.”
Despite having heard of the orchid’s suffering, it wasn’t until seeing it firsthand that Sheng Shaoyou realized it was far worse than he had imagined.
Hua Yong’s entire body was marked with the stains of lust. His delicate frame seemed thoroughly ravaged, used beyond measure.
On the wrist Sheng had once held so gently in his palm, there was a deep bite mark.
What the cleaners had said was true—Hua Yong had tried to kill himself.
Sheng Shaoyou’s mind went blank with a buzz.
The treasure he had never dared touch too harshly had been treated like a disposable tool. And that tearful, soft-spoken, stubborn orchid had once—behind Sheng’s back—despaired enough to choose death.
His chest, stomach, and back were covered in scratches and bruises—so many that Sheng Shaoyou, who was physically healthy, felt a wave of visceral nausea.
Though delicate, Hua Yong had always had pride. He once refused to go home with Sheng Shaoyou at Tian Di Hui, choosing instead to juggle multiple jobs rather than become a well-paid escort.
He was self-respecting, filled with strength and resilience.
To repay the medical bills Sheng had covered, he’d scrimped and saved—ten thousand by ten thousand—yet refused every lavish gift. All he ever accepted were the simple greeting cards Sheng casually told his secretary to send.
Every card with Sheng’s name on it had been carefully stored in an album, cherished like treasure. Sheng had seen him flipping through them before, face serene with a quiet, gentle smile.
Aside from books, Hua Yong had never accepted anything material.
Books were all he took. And now, Sheng Shaoyou had lost—lost perhaps the most important battle of his life.
Hua Yong, who made Sheng taste defeat, was nothing like the other Omegas who chased his money and pheromones.
He had loved Sheng Shaoyou. Only Sheng Shaoyou.
But now, that same Hua Yong had been shattered by others’ desire. His expression was hollow as he sat beside Sheng—so close he could be held with just one arm. And yet, he was no longer the Omega who smiled and called, “Mr. Sheng.”
The flower blooming high on the cliff had failed to resist the wolves. He had been dragged down, humiliated, plucked and chewed—tainted with others’ lust and spit.
But he was still Hua Yong. Sheng Shaoyou’s most beloved Omega.
That night, Sheng didn’t dare let him return to his room alone. He stayed with him in the master bedroom.
Hua Yong spent a long time in the shower. Sheng, worried, knocked twice before he finally came out in a fresh robe, his body still damp with steam, sitting quietly on the bed.
Even freshly bathed, his face remained bloodless—pale as paper, lips darkened in contrast.
Sheng Shaoyou, slowly calming, felt torn apart. He was born noble, always proud. He’d scoffed at “fresh goods” in elite clubs, disdained bodies with price tags, once calling Omegas mere “vessels.”
Now, sitting beside someone who might’ve been used as a vessel countless times, Sheng tasted bitter shame and confusion. He didn’t know what he was feeling.
Half-reclining on the bed, Hua Yong sensed the struggle instantly. He lifted his eyes and looked over calmly. That gaze carried a resigned sorrow—as if telling him: Let go already.
That one glance was a knife.
Of course he was Sheng Shaoyou’s weakness—he needed only his eyes to speak the unspoken: Hua Yong hadn’t given up the thought of death. If Sheng let go, he would follow through.
Sheng’s heart sizzled like oil in a pan—scorching hot.
He was full of pity, pain, helplessness, guilt…
Those tangled emotions surged within him. He couldn’t resist leaning in and gently kissing the pitiful, delicate Omega whose breath seemed barely there.
Hua Yong flinched, then opened his mouth mechanically—like a machine trained to submit to desire.
That conditioned response stabbed Sheng like a knife.
He knew, with aching clarity, that someone else had broken this proud orchid.
During all those sleepless nights, those nameless Alphas must’ve filled him hundreds—thousands—of times.
That night, Sheng Shaoyou held him tightly, but didn’t sleep a wink.
Eyes closed, he stood vigil in the dark—until the fragile Omega in his arms stirred and asked softly:
“Mr. Sheng… do you still need news about the gene-editing scissors project?”