POTINS 51

Wen Zhongyi accepted Meng Chuan’s ring and even helped him put it on.

“Then can we go back now?” Wen Zhongyi asked. “Did you tell your parents? We disappeared all of a sudden, they might be worried.”

Meng Chuan studied the ring at the base of his ring finger, then looked up and smiled at him. “I told them, don’t worry.”

On the way back, Meng Chuan had called Zhou Lu and said he was taking Wen Zhongyi on a trip out of town to relax, and he didn’t want to be disturbed, so he might turn off his phone. He asked his dad to help handle things at the company in the meantime.

“What the… Where are you two going?” Zhou Lu was baffled.

“To his hometown,” Meng Chuan replied. “I’ll explain everything when I get back.”

Although Zhou Lu still had many questions, she swallowed them and only said, “Then take good care of Xiao Wen, okay? Don’t let him get hurt or tired or hungry.”

“Got it, Mom.” Meng Chuan chuckled. “Don’t worry.”

Since the stone allowed them to travel between two worlds, there was no longer any need for one to leave their parents behind for the sake of the other.

Meng Chuan could accompany Wen Zhongyi back to Sanka, and he could also return here. As for where they would ultimately settle, that could be discussed later—there was no rush.

But it was still unclear whether this kind of travel had other limitations or whether the stone might lose power over time and stop working.

Perhaps the testing facility in Sanka could uncover the stone’s secrets.

But before they returned, all of this remained unknown. They could only try it out themselves.

Just as Wen Zhongyi was about to cut his finger and draw blood, Meng Chuan suddenly stopped him. He rummaged through the drawer and pulled out a carbon pen, then said with great seriousness, “Just in case we lose our memories when we go through, let’s make a mark ahead of time.”

Wen Zhongyi found that reasonable and asked, “What kind of mark?”

Meng Chuan tilted his chin toward him. “Give me your arm.”

Wen Zhongyi stretched his arm out. Meng Chuan rolled up his sleeve and started writing on his forearm, stroke by stroke.

“That tickles.” Wen Zhongyi couldn’t help flinching, but Meng Chuan held him down. Wen Zhongyi lowered his head to see what he was writing. “What are you writing?”

Meng Chuan’s handwriting wasn’t exactly neat. Even though he tried to write carefully, the result still looked awkward and crooked.

By the time Wen Zhongyi saw halfway through, he had a vein throbbing on his forehead. “Are you sure this will help?”

“Of course.” Meng Chuan traced the last two characters a bit more boldly, making them extra noticeable, and said with satisfaction, “Once you see this, you’ll know what we are to each other.”

He had written: I love Meng Chuan.

With a heart drawn at the end.

Wen Zhongyi thought that if he really did lose his memory, he probably wouldn’t believe this nonsense even if he saw it.

After finishing Wen Zhongyi’s arm, Meng Chuan lowered his head and wrote the same thing on his own. After drawing the heart, he tossed the pen aside and said, “All set.”

The two sat on the couch with the stone in front of them.

Wen Zhongyi picked up the knife and made a cut on his finger without blinking, then pressed the bleeding finger onto the stone.

“Why did you cut so deep?” Meng Chuan inhaled sharply, wanting to help stop the bleeding a little.

“I’m fine,” Wen Zhongyi frowned and said impatiently, “Hurry up.”

He was eager to go home and didn’t care about a small wound like this.

Meng Chuan understood how he felt and didn’t dawdle. He swiftly cut his own finger and pressed it down as well.

Wen Zhongyi stared at the glowing stone without blinking. After a moment, sure enough, the silver light turned dark blue.

The stone began to heat up. Wen Zhongyi felt a strange tension and glanced at Meng Chuan. Their eyes met, and he swallowed hard.

“It’s okay. Don’t be scared.”

Meng Chuan had just reached out to hold his hand when he suddenly felt a jolt of electricity shoot through his finger and surge through his entire body.

Wen Zhongyi felt the same. His finger was firmly stuck to the stone, the current racing through every nerve. In the next moment, the two of them lost consciousness.

It was unclear how much time had passed before Wen Zhongyi slowly opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was an orange dusk. The sky hung low, unobstructed by tall buildings, so close it seemed you could reach out and touch it.

Wen Zhongyi blinked and looked around. He realized he was lying on a lawn.

Meng Chuan wasn’t beside him.

His heart sank.

Could Meng Chuan have landed somewhere else?

He tried to get up, but the dizziness hadn’t faded. Wen Zhongyi’s body was weak, and he could only lie there for a while to recover.

Not far away, a family of three was barbecuing by a crystal-clear lake.

He could smell the meat grilling, along with a faint unfamiliar scent of pheromones—probably from a passerby who hadn’t used a blocker.

This was Sanka—his homeland.

He was back.

Wen Zhongyi’s heart warmed.

The dusk gradually faded, and darkness settled over the land.

Perhaps because he’d been lying there for too long, the family of three kept glancing his way.

Eventually, the omega man came over. Seeing Wen Zhongyi’s open eyes, he smiled gently. “We thought you were sleeping here. It’s getting dark, and the lighting around here isn’t great. Lying here, you might get stepped on by accident.”

As he spoke, his gaze dropped to Wen Zhongyi’s belly. He added kindly, “Especially since you’re pregnant. It’s best to head home soon.”

Wen Zhongyi raised a hand to wipe his eyes and softly said, “Thank you.”

With the omega’s help, he stood up, one hand resting on his lower belly and the other brushing dirt from his clothes.

Seeing his red-rimmed eyes, the omega guessed he might be upset but didn’t pry. He only said gently, “It’s important to stay cheerful during pregnancy—your baby feels it too.”

Wen Zhongyi nodded and thanked him again, then suddenly asked, “Do you work at the military department?”

“Huh? How did you know?” The omega looked surprised and studied Wen Zhongyi carefully, but didn’t recognize him.

Wen Zhongyi curved his lips in a subtle smile and told a small lie: “I saw you once when I went to pick up documents at the department. You’re very beautiful.”

The omega smiled shyly. “Thank you. You’re beautiful too.”

He was a clerk at the military department, responsible for compiling meeting materials. He’d interacted with Wen Zhongyi many times.

Wen Zhongyi remembered him.

But clearly, the omega didn’t recognize his former superior.

When Wen Zhongyi asked if there was a Colonel Wen at the department, the omega hesitated, then shook his head. “No. The only officer surnamed Wen is General Wen.”

That was Wen Zhongyi’s father.

The omega helped him to a sidewalk lit by streetlamps and said, “I don’t know why, but I feel like I’ve met you before. It feels like fate.”

“I feel the same,” Wen Zhongyi smiled.

When the omega learned Wen Zhongyi didn’t have any cash, he gave him a few Sanka banknotes and even helped him call a cab.

Wen Zhongyi took down his number and said, “I’ll repay you. Thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome!” The omega waved as the cab pulled away, his figure receding into the distance.

In the cab, Wen Zhongyi took out what was in his pocket.

A cellphone. A pocket watch.

The pocket watch was a gift from his father, with a small inscription on the strap: For Zhongyi.

It was the only thing that could prove their relationship.

The phone showed the exact time when he and Meng Chuan left the other world. Calls wouldn’t go through, and none of the apps would open.

If Meng Chuan had landed elsewhere, he would know where Wen Zhongyi was headed. Sooner or later, they would meet again.

As long as Meng Chuan hadn’t lost his memory.

Wen Zhongyi’s heart clenched. He crossed his hands over the tip of his nose, closed his eyes, and silently prayed that Meng Chuan was safe.

The car soon arrived at his father’s residence. Wen Zhongyi got out but was stopped by the guards at the gate.

Security was tight, and without notice, the guards refused to let him in no matter what he said.

They held their guns at the ready. One pointed it at Wen Zhongyi and warned coldly, “Sir, please leave immediately.”

Instinctively, Wen Zhongyi reached for the gun he used to carry at his waist—then slowly lowered his hand and turned away under their steely gaze.

He had nowhere to go and ended up sitting alone on a bench by the street, head down, rubbing the pocket watch in his hands.

Time passed. Suddenly, headlights sliced across the ground as a taxi sped up and stopped in front of him.

The door opened, and out stepped Meng Chuan, finally arrived.

The moment their eyes met, they both visibly relaxed.

Wen Zhongyi tilted his head to look up at him. “You finally came.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Meng Chuan said apologetically.

He’d landed in an abandoned factory far away, and it had taken a while just to borrow money for a cab, then even longer to get here.

As for why they landed in different places, Meng Chuan had thought it over on the way and figured it was because they hadn’t held hands when the stone activated.

He had the stone in his pocket now—its glow hadn’t dimmed, which meant they could still use it again.

Wen Zhongyi told him about being stopped by the guards, a bit dispirited. “They don’t recognize me anymore. No matter what I said, they wouldn’t let me in.”

Meng Chuan patted his hair and said, “Should we try calling them from a phone booth? I remember there’s one nearby.”

Wen Zhongyi shook his head. “I checked—it’s been torn down.”

Besides, knowing his father and dad, they probably wouldn’t answer a call from an unfamiliar number.

All they could do was wait.

Meng Chuan held his hand tightly and comforted him, “We’ll definitely see them. Let’s just wait a bit longer—maybe your father hasn’t gotten off work yet.”

His father worked long hours; overtime was the norm.

But that evening, he might’ve gone home early. Still, Wen Zhongyi and Meng Chuan waited and waited, and his car never came.

After sitting too long, Wen Zhongyi started to feel unwell.

“Let’s come back tomorrow,” Meng Chuan said. “Tonight we should find a place to rest.”

But lodging was another issue.

Hotels nearby were expensive, and the banknotes Wen Zhongyi had left weren’t enough. Their old home likely no longer existed.

Then Meng Chuan thought of something. “What about that villa your dad gave us? It should still be there, right?”

It was a seaside villa with beautiful views but a bit too far from the military department—too inconvenient for work. Wen Zhongyi had only visited it once and planned to stay there with Meng Chuan during a beach vacation they never got to take.

Since it was a gift from his father and they never used it, it should still be untouched.

Meng Chuan hailed a cab, and they rode for a long time. Wen Zhongyi was nearly asleep by the time they arrived.

The house was still there.

Wen Zhongyi cautiously entered the passcode—click—the door opened.

He thought the place might be dusty from disuse, but surprisingly, it was spotless, as if someone had cleaned it recently.

The floors shone, the bedding was soft, even the windows gleamed, and a faint pleasant scent lingered in the air.

If not for the lack of any signs of life, Wen Zhongyi would’ve thought someone was living there.

They spent the night in the villa.

The next morning, Meng Chuan went out and returned with two portions of wontons. After breakfast, they took a cab to his father’s residence again, spending the last of their change.

But maybe they were still too late—they didn’t catch his father’s car again.

The morning sun was bright. Wen Zhongyi sat in the shade and said to Meng Chuan, “I’m a little thirsty. I want some water.”

Not far away was a supermarket. Meng Chuan remembered it offered free hot water.

“I’ll go get some for you. Wait here,” he said.

Wen Zhongyi nodded. “Okay.”

He watched Meng Chuan walk into the store.

A few cars passed by, raising dust. Wen Zhongyi held his breath slightly, resting his hands over his belly and spacing out, thinking about what to do next.

Just then, he heard the crisp jingle of a bell.

He turned his head and saw a little white dog appear around the corner.

The dog had a bell around its neck and was wearing a harness leash. The other end was held firmly by a slender, graceful hand.

Following behind was a handsome male omega in a white shirt, his face wearing a gentle smile—just like in Wen Zhongyi’s memories.

He noticed Wen Zhongyi and paused slightly. Then he shortened the leash, and when the dog excitedly tried to bounce over to Wen Zhongyi, he squatted down and scooped it up.

“Sorry about that—this little one’s a bit naughty.” He smiled apologetically and asked gently, “Did it scare you?”

“……”

Wen Zhongyi’s eyes reddened the moment he saw him. Now he just stared without blinking, unable to say a word.