Extra: The Liar 17 (Wolf × Rabbit side CP conclusion) – If that Omega were you, I’d love you to madness
That day the sun was especially bright — a clear blue sky, not a cloud in sight.
But a dark shadow lingered on Gao Tu’s face.
In the split second he saw Shen Wenlang, all the color drained from his cheeks. He instinctively clutched the child and backed away.
Shen Wenlang was glad he’d rehearsed this reunion ten thousand times in his mind.
So, when he finally faced that Omega who had disappeared without a word, he still managed to maintain some semblance of composure — even remembered to hand Little Peanut over to the nanny.
Little Peanut clung to the nanny, turning his head worriedly to look at Shen Wenlang’s face — he had never seen his godfather so out of control.
Shen Wenlang’s handsome face was rigid, his jaw locked tight, as though it took everything in him to stop himself from losing it then and there.
“What do you want?”
Someone stepped forward and blocked his heated, fixed stare at Gao Tu. Squinting, Shen Wenlang recognized the man shielding his Omega and pretending to be a hero — Ma Heng.
He said nothing, just looked coldly at this troublesome Alpha who overestimated himself.
Ma Heng glared back, vigilant, staring down the rich and ruthless top Alpha who had driven them to flee to a foreign land.
It was this relentless bastard who had forced him and Gao Tu to leave home and start over in a strange country. And even after all these years, he still wasn’t willing to let go — still dared to stare at Gao Tu as though he still belonged to him, still a part of his body.
Standing beside him, Song Feifei didn’t understand what was happening, but even she could tell from Gao Tu’s obvious fear and tension, and Ma Heng’s hostility, that they and Shen Wenlang already knew each other — and not in a way that allowed peaceful conversation.
“Daddy.”
Gao Lele was being held so tightly it hurt, but he couldn’t worry about himself — his father looked so pale, his whole body strung taut like a bow drawn to its limit.
The little boy quietly raised his hand, used his sleeve to wipe his father’s sweat, and softly said:
“Daddy, if you’re not feeling well, let’s go home.”
Gao Lele had always been an understanding child. Though he treasured this rare chance to visit an amusement park, nothing was more important than his father’s health.
“Gao Tu—”
Shen Wenlang took a step forward, his eyes fixed on the child clutched in Gao Tu’s arms. He hesitated, then asked:
“Is that… my child?”
“No!”
Gao Tu answered almost instinctively, retreating several more steps, looking like he was about to bolt.
A tight, painful feeling rose in Shen Wenlang’s chest.
He didn’t know why Gao Tu was lying, or why he was so afraid, or what he could do to calm him down — to make him stop being afraid.
“Daddy.”
Gao Lele called to his father again, trying to comfort him, rubbing his little masked face against Gao Tu’s cheek:
“Let’s go home. I don’t want to play anymore.”
“Okay. We’ll go home.”
But Shen Wenlang blocked his way as easily as a towering mountain.
Ma Heng, who tried to stop him, was pinned by Shen Wenlang’s bodyguard, arms wrenched behind his back.
“You scumbag! Stay away from Bunny!”
Shen Wenlang turned and shot him a fierce glare. The high-level Alpha’s suppressive pheromones weren’t heavy in scent but enough to make Ma Heng’s legs go weak.
“Bunny?”
He chewed on the overly intimate nickname with a dangerous expression, like a storm brewing.
Ma Heng, unable to move, saw Shen Wenlang approaching Gao Tu and cursed through gritted teeth:
“Bastard! He’s already like this — what more do you want? You want to drive him to death?”
The escalating pheromones made Ma Heng’s face twist in pain; if not for the bodyguard holding him up, he would’ve collapsed.
Their difference in rank was too great — it wasn’t a confrontation, just one-sided bullying.
Shen Wenlang stared at him expressionlessly, like a wolf about to devour its prey, the pressure almost unbearable.
“Stop it!”
Shen Wenlang froze and turned.
Gao Tu stood there, brows furrowed, worry written all over his face as he said urgently:
“Shen Wenlang — this has nothing to do with him. Let him go.”
For some reason, the word “we” pleased Shen Wenlang greatly — as though they were a unit, their matters concerning no one else.
But Gao Tu looked as if he couldn’t even bear being in the same room with him.
Shen Wenlang softened his expression, tried to keep his temper in check, and walked toward him.
“Gao Tu, why are you hiding from me?”
All these years, Gao Tu rarely thought of him — and if he did, it was always of their school days.
He avoided thinking about Shen Wenlang as an adult, avoided thinking of the nights they spent together, avoided recalling the heat of his body and the desire in his kisses.
As if not thinking of those things could keep his naïve crush frozen in time, untouched by ugly lies and betrayal.
“Don’t hide from me. Come here. Let’s talk.”
Today, Shen Wenlang was still tall, handsome, overbearing — but his eyes also held pain and caution that Gao Tu didn’t want to understand.
He just wanted to leave quickly, with his child.
Sitting in Shen Wenlang’s car, cold air blowing, Gao Tu shivered despite himself.
“Turn down the A/C,” Shen Wenlang said to the driver, then reached over to cover Gao Tu’s hand with his own.
Gao Tu flinched and quickly pulled away.
Shen Wenlang’s chest tightened but he didn’t show it — all his movements light, like a wolf trying not to scare a timid rabbit.
In the backseat, Little Peanut clambered onto Shen Wenlang’s knee and started chatting with Gao Lele:
“Sorry for bumping into you earlier. Your mask is so pretty — can I try it?”
Lele hesitated but handed it over:
“Here.”
And in that moment, Shen Wenlang finally saw the boy’s face clearly — and his bitterness turned into a rush of sweetness.
Lele looked just like him.
There was no need for a DNA test — any fool could see it.
Three months later.
Lele was troubled.
He’d noticed his father often disappeared in the middle of the night — ever since that neighbor moved in next door.
That neighbor — whom they met at the amusement park — constantly clung to his dad, calling him “baby”, and even moved next door.
One night, after eating too much watermelon, Lele woke up and padded to the bathroom — and overheard voices in the living room.
“Just one more kiss, okay?”
“Stop — don’t wake Lele.”
“If he wakes, I’ll coax him back to sleep.”
“Once he’s asleep, come to my place.”
“Daddy,” Lele said softly, pretending to sleep but watching through cracked eyelids.
“If you want to go next door, you can. You don’t have to wait until I’m asleep.”
He thought to himself, maybe it was time to change his name to Shen Lele.