PM Chapter 12

最佳契合 (Perfect Match) – 十九瑶

Chapter 12

　　The afternoon drifted by lazily. It was nap time for the omegas and their babies, and the curtains were drawn one by one. Family members in the ward gradually filtered out in small groups. Cheng Xiu and the burly dad from the next bed said their goodbyes as well.

Cheng Xiu had been keeping watch at the hospital for six straight days. By now, he reeked like a jar of pickled vegetables, so he hurried home to shower and get a haircut. The burly dad worked at an auto repair shop and had to earn money to support his family. He’d only taken half a day off in the morning, and after coaxing his baby to sleep, he left too. Neither He An nor the round-faced omega could fall asleep. Each of them ladled out a bowl of the black-bone chicken soup the burly dad had brought and leaned against their headboards, chatting idly.

He An asked how the round-faced omega had fallen in love with his burly alpha. The round-faced omega scratched his head, grinned sheepishly, and told him a plain but heartwarming love story.

The round-faced omega was a cook who made a living by running a small street-front restaurant.

The restaurant wasn’t big and focused entirely on takeout. The food was cheap and good, so the auto repair shop next door ordered from him every few days, almost like they were treating his place as their cafeteria. There were a lot of orders, and after a while, people became familiar.

One day, as usual, he rode his little electric scooter out to deliver food. He didn’t know the burly dad well at the time, but he happened to be the one who came out to pick it up.

The burly dad took the plastic bag, casually weighed it in his hand, then frowned, his thick brows knitting together. He stepped forward on his long legs, his massive frame blocking the scooter’s path.

“I was terrfied.” the round-faced omega said shyly, “I told him, dude, please don’t hit me—if the food’s bad I can refund you, but beating someone up would be your fault. But then… then he…” He laughed awkwardly, “He kept praising my cooking, saying it was great, and stuffed a few dozen bucks into my pocket. He said, all embarrassed, that he eats a lot. The shop manager always orders standard portions, and he never gets full. Lunch money is split evenly, so it’s not appropriate for him to ask for extra food. He had no choice but to come to me privately and ask me to scoop him an extra cup of rice.”

When the round-faced omega spoke about his past with the alpha, his chest swelled with joy.

Later on, they exchanged phone numbers. Every day, the round-faced omega not only gave the alpha an extra large scoop of rice, but he also drew a little pig as a marker on the container. He’d even text every day to ask whether he’d eaten enough. The alpha was a rough, blunt guy from a county town, not good with words. All of this care had stirred him up, his heart was quietly in turmoil, but he couldn’t bring himself to make a confession. All he did was keep saying how delicious the food was.

The round-faced omega rested his chin in his hand and complained, “He never compliments me for being cute or having a charming personality or anything. All he knows is eat, eat, eat… so damn stupid…”

Then one day, the round-faced omega’s little electric scooter broke down halfway.

He sat dejected on the curb and called the alpha for help. Less than two minutes later, the alpha came roaring over on his motorcycle, hauling a big toolbox, dusty and windblown. From that day on, the alpha’s lunch gained a few extra additions—half a soft-boiled egg sliced crosswise, three florets of broccoli, and a carrot slice carved into the shape of a heart.

Four months after they met, the round-faced omega’s heat was coming. He was too sick to do anything, let alone lift a wok, and his body was wet and feverish. He had to close his restaurant for a while because he had no other option.

After a few days without seeing the omega, the slow-witted alpha became anxious. He sent more than a hundred texts, wanting to know what was going on. Curled up in bed, the round-faced omega texted with shaky, unsteady fingers, dropping hints explicitly and discreetly on multiple times. The alpha, as solid as a stainless-steel wrench, still didn’t understand. The only thing he said in response was, “But I want to eat the meal you make. I have no energy, and I can’t get motivated in the afternoon because I’ve been eating other people’s food.”

Hardly two sentences—not a confession, but better than nothing at all.

Lying in bed at the time, the round-faced omega couldn’t help but imagine the alpha’s imposing, muscular figure. He felt a rush of heat in his lower body, his underwear got totally wet, and he secretly touched himself.

“What else was I supposed to do after he said that?” the round-faced omega said, “The next day, I… I went to extreme lengths to cook and deliver lunch specifically for him. Who knew he’d be working without a shirt on, sweating a lot, and smelling so good? I lost control at that time and went into heat… there in front of him…”

The round-faced omega raised a hand, covering his eyes in embarrassment, “He took me to a corner of the storage room and had sex with me all afternoon. He then spent three more days at my apartment, draining me completely. It was just… insanely good. Amazingly good. I yelled out every inappropriate word. I just wanted to let him have sex with me forever…”

His expression—half timid, half blissful—was so adorable that He An couldn’t help but giggle, “What happened next?”

“Then… I got pregnant.” he confessed. “He dragged me off to register the marriage, acting like an idiot because he was so happy, and he said he wanted to eat my cooking for life.” His lips curled up, unable to contain his euphoric happiness, “You have to take a compatibility test to get married, right? Before, we never did it since we didn’t think it was important. But when we got the marriage license and saw the result—guess what?”

He An played along, “What?”

“Eighty percent!” the round-faced omega exclaimed, eyes twinkling, “A whopping eighty! I never would have imagined it. I expected a maximum of seventy or so, but I had no idea it would be that high!”

Eighty percent—an ideal, balanced number.

Sixty percent is too low and can be easily overcome by temptation. One hundred percent is too high—when things reach the limit, they revert, and lovers become strangers. Only those who stay in the middle are sure of a happy ending.

He An smile, “That’s pretty enviable… You two will never be apart.”

“Of course! We’ll always be together!”

The round-faced omega gave a stern nod.

He looked at He An with excitement, wanting to share even more about the joys of being married. But when he noticed He An’s drooping lashes and the faint tinge of gloom in those clear black-and-white eyes—as if he was suppressing some hidden grief—he remembered that He An earlier said that his alpha had died. Guilt overwhelmed him. He was panicking and said, “I’m sorry, I talked too much again. If your alpha knew you gave birth to little Linglan, he’d be extremely happy… in the afterlife.”

When He An heard the words “in the afterlife,” he thought of Zheng Feiluan’s black-and-white magazine photo, which was framed with yellow and white flowers and featured a large funeral symbol printed in the center. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“Thanks.” He An spoke, “He would be happy.”

⋮

　　As they continued their conversation, a young woman in a skirt suit entered the room accompanied by the attending doctor. He went directly to He An’s bedside, put his hand on the rail, and said, “Bed 208, He An.”

The woman was a stranger, but she was holding a big bouquet of golden sunflowers. There was a coffee-colored soft teddy bear right in the middle of the bright, fresh flowers, as if the bear was a gift for Linglan.

He An looked confused, “Hello… May I ask who you are?”

“I’m Mr. Zheng’s newly hired personal assistant.” The woman smiled and talked in a sweet, well-trained tone, “You successfully gave birth to the child, and Mr. Zheng is very happy. He told me to bring you a teddy bear and flowers because he’s been too preoccupied with work to see you in person. Please take them.”

Not one of those words made sense to He An.

“Very happy”?

How could Zheng Feiluan be “very happy” at all?

Just two months ago, he had still seen Linglan as a nuisance, had denied having any kind of relationship with her, and had even tried to force him to have an abortion to get rid of the baby. Now that the baby was born, did he suddenly change his mind and accept his fate?

And besides—Zheng Feiluan’s personal assistant… It was always Cheng Xiu, wasn’t it?

Before He An could even start to think about these questions, the female assistant kept talking, using even more confusing words, “You went through a lot of pain giving birth, and Mr. Zheng saw all of it. He couldn’t stand the thought of you continuing to suffer in a big room with other people. As a parent, his top priorities are making sure your child gets the greatest care possible and giving you a place to rest comfortably while you recuperate. That’s why he chose a premium parent-child room for you. It is all set now. Would it be okay if I had the staff take you there?”

A parent-child room was a private suite with air conditioning, hot water, and professional caregivers on call 24 hours a day. The per-day bill was excessively high. This hospital, more importantly, didn’t have many parent-child rooms, but there were a lot of people who wanted them. All of them were booked months in advance. They were practically priceless and inaccessible.

What exactly is Zheng Feiluan trying to do?

The round-faced omega in the neighboring bed also looked suspicious. He stared at He An and asked, “Didn’t you say… your alpha had passed away?”

He An was immediately put in a tough spot, unable to explain himself no matter how many lips he had.

The parent-child room was somewhere he preferred not to go. Who knows what sort of trap Zheng Feiluan had set up there with the enormous amount of money he had put into it? If anything went wrong, he and Linglan would be totally alone with no one to ask for help. But the two staff that the assistant brought with her worked well and fast. One packed up his things right away, and the other wheeled the baby cradle out instantly.

He An’s abdominal incision hadn’t healed yet, so even the slightest movement sent pain screaming through him, and he couldn’t get out of bed to stop it. As he watched Linglan slip away from his view, he felt forced to submit and be removed from the six-bed ward.

⋮

　　The parent-child room that Zheng Feiluan picked was at the end of the hallway on the south side. It was bright and clean, with a lot of sunlight on the bed. The sun warmed people and made them feel sleepy and relaxed. The location was also rather convenient, as the nurses’ station was only a few feet away from the door. At the press of a button, assistance would be on its way.

It didn’t seem like a trap set all around.

The caregiver who was supposed to look after Linglan was a gentle and kind auntie in her fifties. While she was changing Linglan’s diaper, she kept talking, “You know, you’re very lucky to have met a man who loves you. Booking a parent-child room at our hospital is really tough; even if you precisely predict the due date, you still can’t be sure of an availability six months in advance. How did you get a room right away like that? If I’m being really honest, this room was reserved a long time ago. Your husband felt bad for you and the baby, so he paid ten times as much to have it switched.”

He An frowned, his mind blank. He was completely taken aback by Zheng Feiluan’s quick change of heart.

He had no idea what was going on in Zheng Feiluan’s head.

Is it possible that Zheng Feiluan suddenly changed his mind and chose to warmly embrace him and Linglan since, now that the child was born, there was no way to put her back into his belly?

No, that’s not possible.

The idea was too silly and simple. There was a fleeting thought that crossed his mind, but it quickly faded—Zheng Feiluan was not one to compromise lightly. When someone like him suddenly offered generosity without explanation, there had to be another reason.

He An’s fingers twisted tightly under the blanket as he looked at the bright, growing sunflowers on the bedside table. A growing sense of anxiety enveloped his chest.

⋮

　　He An had hardly even moved into the parent-child room when Zheng Feiluan’s lawyer showed up right after him, confirming his anxiety.

When He An heard the knock, he felt his heart skip a beat. For a moment, he thought that Zheng Feiluan had actually come. But when the door opened, it was a strange beta dressed in a fitted suit.

The man was carrying a suitcase and said a polite “good afternoon” to He An. Without waiting for an invitation, he pulled over a chair, sat down, and then reached into his suitcase, retrieved a dark blue folder, and set it on his lap. He An felt a natural hatred for him, even before he introduced himself. This man was eerily similar to Zheng Feiluan in too many aspects: he was calm and collected, polite but aloof, and he had the personality of a sophisticated beast disguised as a human. His condescending attitude seeped through in his gaze.

As expected, the lawyer opened his mouth in a strict, businesslike manner, “Hello, Mr. He An. My surname is Xia. I am Mr. Zheng Feiluan’s personal lawyer. Previously, you and Mr. Zheng reached an agreement about what to do with the child. Unfortunately, you broke the terms of that agreement without anyone’s consent, avoided having an abortion, and gave birth to the child without permission. This has caused Mr. Zheng a lot of trouble with his personal and family affairs…”

He was talking loudly. Linglan was having a hard time sleeping—she made two soft sounds, twitched her arms, and pouted, all signs that she was about to wake up.

He An quickly cut him off, “The baby just went to sleep. Can you talk more quietly? I can hear you.”

“My apologies.”

Lawyer Xia apologized without changing his expression and lowered his voice slightly, “Mr. Zheng has been greatly inconvenienced by you. He would be fully within his rights to demand accountability. But Mr. Zheng has graciously chosen not to press the issue, taking into account your present health and financial status. That being said, he has written another contract to protect his own interests and hopes to come to an agreement with you. It’s inconvenient for him to visit the hospital because it is overcrowded and indiscreet, so he has trusted me to communicate the matter on his behalf.”

Another… agreement.

It was just like the scene from the coffee shop a few months ago, but this time, Zheng Feiluan didn’t even bother to show up.

He An let out a breath, “Go on.”

Lawyer Xia opened the folder. His finger slid down the page to the first clause, “First, while you’re in the hospital, Mr. Zheng has asked that you be careful what you say and do. You are not to tell anyone, even medical staff, about your secret relationship with him. You gave birth prematurely, and your child is weak. You both need a comfortable place to rest and get better. At much personal effort, Mr. Zheng secured this parent-child suite and made accessible to you the finest resources available throughout the entire hospital. He simply wants you to be grateful and be quiet; that’s all he has to ask. Can you agree to that?”

“Be grateful… and be quiet?”

He nearly laughed out loud in rage as he repeated the words in astonishment, finding it so ridiculous.

How could he have been naive enough to think positively of Zheng Feiluan?

Under the guise of “rest” and “care,” he was taken out of the shared ward as soon as he woke up—solely to prevent him from mentioning the name “Zheng Feiluan” to anyone, to keep that irreparable relationship hidden. Such perfectly on-brand logic for Zheng Feiluan—he should have figured it out sooner.

When He An sat silent, Lawyer Xia asked again, “Can you agree?”

He An appeared to see Zheng Feiluan himself sitting across from him, fingers intertwined on his knee, chin slightly raised, wearing the same arrogant, mocking face of generosity.

This man hadn’t changed at all. Not once.

“I’ve never been allowed to say no. You know that very well—why ask?” He An spoke, “Please tell him this: I’ve told people outside that I’m a widow. I’ve never spoken to anyone else about him. He can relax.”

Lawyer Xia frowned slightly, irritated with He An’s unusually strong response, but said nothing. He simply crossed out the first clause and then presented He An with a red envelope that had been clipped inside the folder.

“This is Mr. Zheng’s present to the child and the second clause in the agreement. Please accept it.”

The envelope was light and thin. He gently held it with both hands, carefully opened it, and a small card slipped into his palm.

It was a bank card.

He An looked at it, and the small glimmer of hope in his eyes went away.

He first assumed it was a greeting card, like the inexpensive ones you can buy in bulk at grocery stores, which include a printed flower on the inside but are otherwise blank. No message, no blessing—at least it would have shown that Linglan meant something to him.

But a bank card… what on earth did that even mean?

A shiver ran down his spine. With both hands, he returned the card to its envelope, “I can’t accept this.”

Lawyer Xia coldly told him, “This is not for you. It’s from Mr. Zheng to the child. Be careful not to cross the line.”

He An froze.

Lawyer Xia went on, “You gave birth to an omega daughter. She isn’t fit to take over the family business, and Mr. Zheng isn’t interested in battling you for custody. But she is still Mr. Zheng’s blood. He doesn’t want the child to have a hard time growing up because there’s only one parent, and he is willing to give financial support. Raising an omega girl to maturity by upper-class standards, including inflation, costs around CN¥9.45 million¹. With this card, the entire amount has already been deposited. You may treat it as the child’s support fund and give her a privileged life.”

“I don’t need it.” He An shook his head, “I can raise her on my own.”

“If you think you don’t need it, you can just not spend the money and think of yourself as keeping the 9.45 million for Mr. Zheng.” Lawyer Xia quietly held the folder in one hand, straightened out the paper with the other, and didn’t try to take the envelope back, “Mr. Zheng says that if you ever have financial trouble and need it right away, you can take money out of this card. But you are not to bother him at all because the maximum sum you are entitled to has already been placed in full.”

Despite his lack of sophistication, He An was an intelligent man. He knew exactly what it meant. His expression changed instantly as his fingers clenched around the envelope, tearing a slit in the red paper.

This was naked humiliation.

Before the child was born, Zheng Feiluan feared he would extort money, so he forced him to have an abortion. Now that the child had been born, Zheng Feiluan still feared he would extort money—so he simply cut off a chunk of flesh and paid all eighteen years of child support upfront, permanently sealing his mouth. Taking the 9.45 million made him greedy; refusing it made him even greedier. Either way, in Zheng Feiluan’s eyes, he was nothing but a piece of trash trying to scam money by giving birth.

He understood now.

He finally understood just how clear-headed and cold-blooded Zheng Feiluan truly was.

He An trembled with rage, grinding his teeth. “I gave birth to this child myself. I can raise her even if it kills me—I don’t need a single cent of his money! Tell him that when Linglan turns eighteen, I will return every penny in that card, interest included. Tell him not to forget this ‘child support’ he paid so unwillingly!”

“I’ll relay that to him.”

Lawyer Xia nodded indifferently, crossed out the second clause, then flipped further through the folder and took out another envelope.

This one was much larger than the previous one—A4 size, pure white. It didn’t look thick, but the center sagged slightly, as if it contained something heavy made of paper. Lawyer Xia presented it with both hands, “This is a gift from Mr. Zheng to you, and also the third clause in the agreement. Please accept it.”

He An accepted it warily. His left hand pressed one end while his right hand slipped inside the opening, his fingers brushing against something smooth and cold—coated paper, like a glossy printed booklet.

He pulled it out, saw the back cover first, then flipped it over to the front.

The moment his eyes landed on the bold titles on the cover, his arms began to shake violently. Everything in the booklet clattered as his fingers gave out and the whole thing fell from his grasp. Like falling snow, the sheets of forms hidden between the pages lay scattered around the room in a messy fashion.

He An sat on the bed, stiff and still, looking at the mess on the floor. His throat tightened, breathing became difficult, and sharp pain pierced his chest in waves.

It was a surgical pamphlet.

However, this was not the mark-removal surgery that Zheng Feiluan had previously mentioned. This was something entirely new—something He An had only ever seen in the news.

PGRT: Lifelong Pheromone Gland Replacement Transplant

Beneath the title was a line of glaring red handwritten annotations, scrawled in oil marker:

Replacement Target: Omega Type-3.

Estimated Compatibility Rate: 7%.

✕✕✕

Translated and edited by janemoyu (09/20/25)