Chapter 26: Whales

Cheng Si licked every trace of the residue from Wen Xi’s fingers, hoping for a bit of praise, but instead, Wen Xi abruptly pulled the black silk blindfold from his eyes.

“Are you finished washing up?” Wen Xi took a step back. “I’m a bit hungry. I wonder if the restaurants outside are closed yet.”

The sudden light was piercing. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, waiting a moment before opening them again; they were still sore and watery.

Aside from a few stains on her skirt, Cheng Si confirmed that Wen Xi was perfectly dressed. He also confirmed that she truly hadn’t been “aroused.” It seemed she was just curious.

After all, the anatomy of a male Omega and a female Omega was different. It was just like that time in her beautiful bedroom when she had looked at him with calm eyes and leaned in to kiss his face—out of curiosity, she did it because she wanted to, with no other emotions involved. Because Wen Xi never used harsh words to remind him to have some self-awareness, she gave him far too many opportunities for delusion.

But now, he finally understood: some reminders don’t require harsh words.

Cheng Si looked at Wen Xi in silence. After a moment, he asked in a low voice, “What do you want to eat? I’ll go buy it.” Wen Xi replied, “Whatever.”

Cheng Si nodded. Without another word, he dried the water from his body, dressed, and opened the door.

Once he was gone, Wen Xi took a long, refreshing shower. She had brought spare clothes, so she tossed the soiled school uniform into the trash can. She lay on the bed, turned on the TV, and checked her messages on StarChat.

In the class group chat, Jin Ping had posted an announcement:

[Early to bed tonight, everyone! Remember to bring your windbreakers and swimsuits. Meeting at 5:00 AM tomorrow to head out and see the whales.]

Wen Xi clicked “confirm.” She noticed Cheng Si hadn’t clicked it yet. Jin Ping tagged him several times, and eventually, Cheng Si replied with a breathless voice note. Hearing his heavy panting, Wen Xi couldn’t help but recall his disoriented expression in the bathroom.

He had licked so earnestly. Actually, she should have given him a bit more of a reward. There was no need to be so stingy.

As Wen Xi thought about being a bit more patient with Cheng Si next time, sleepiness hit her like a wave. She really hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a very long time.

Sometime later, through a haze of sleep, Wen Xi heard the door open. Cheng Si was back.

“I haven’t been here before, so I didn’t know which places were good. I picked out a few different things; see what you’d like…” Cheng Si’s lowered voice came from behind her. Wen Xi was too exhausted, so she murmured, “Just leave it there. I’m going to sleep for a bit. I’ll eat when I wake up.”

She didn’t hear him speak again and drifted back into a deep slumber.

Cheng Si stood by the bed for a long time, holding a large bag of food, feeling frustrated with himself. He should have been faster; he shouldn’t have made Wen Xi wait until she fell asleep. After a long silence, he slowly lowered his head. His face, damp with sweat, looked even more disheveled. Finally, he sat down dejectedly and ate the hot food himself so it wouldn’t go to waste.

The alarm went off at 4:30 AM. Wen Xi rarely lingered in bed; she opened her eyes almost immediately. She rolled over and reached out, but her hand hit empty space. She sat up, startled, realizing Cheng Si wasn’t in the bed.

She scanned the room and saw a figure curled up on the sofa. The hotel sofa wasn’t as large as the one in Wen Xi’s apartment; it was narrow and short. For a man as tall as Cheng Si, he couldn’t even stretch his legs, making him look particularly pitiful and ridiculous.

She frowned and woke him up. “There’s a bed, why are you sleeping here?”

Cheng Si rubbed his eyes, his brain still sluggish from sleep. He instinctively told the truth: “I ate a bit too much last night and my stomach was upset. I was afraid of waking you up if I kept getting up for the bathroom… I didn’t want you to have insomnia again.”

Wen Xi was speechless. “Why did you eat so much?”

“I bought it for you, but you didn’t eat. To avoid wasting it, I had to…” Halfway through his explanation, he realized what he was saying. He shut his mouth and looked at her anxiously.

It was clear to Wen Xi that he was complaining in an unconscious state. She narrowed her eyes and looked at the table: there were takeout boxes he hadn’t had time to throw away, along with unopened desserts and fruit.

“Exactly how much did you buy?” Wen Xi’s frown deepened. Cheng Si muttered, “Not that much.”

“Not much? You ate until you almost had a flare-up of gastroenteritis?” Wen Xi stared him down until he confessed: “I went into every shop I thought looked decent and bought a little bit from each.” He hadn’t intended to buy so much, but he wanted to cover every possibility to get her approval.

Wen Xi felt, for once, that she had done something stupid. She shouldn’t have said “Whatever.” That word could be interpreted in too many ways, and Cheng Si, in his effort to please her, would spend immense time and energy trying to fulfill every potential meaning.

“Is your stomach still hurting?” Wen Xi asked slowly.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.” After vomiting everything up last night, the pain had subsided. Cheng Si pushed some milk and a cocoa pie toward her. “I bought a separate breakfast for you. Do you want it?”

Wen Xi went to wash up and, upon returning, prepared to share the breakfast with him. He said, “You eat first. This was a bit expensive, so I didn’t buy much.” The subtext was: If you don’t like it, I’ll eat the leftovers.

Wen Xi took a bite of the cocoa pie and knew immediately that Cheng Si had been scammed. Dessert shops near tourist attractions were often terrible—using cheap ingredients but charging premium prices. There was hardly any taste of chocolate; it was just a mouth-full of cloying preservatives and saccharin.

“How is it? Good?” Cheng Si asked hesitantly.

Wen Xi took a sip of milk and another bite of the pie, swallowing it quickly without much chewing. Then, looking at Cheng Si’s expectant face, she told a lie: “It’s okay.”

Upon hearing those words, Cheng Si’s dejected expression vanished, replaced by visible happiness. Wen Xi then pointed at the remaining pies. “Leave these for me. You eat the strawberries, okay?”

Cheng Si wouldn’t refuse. He almost wanted to tell her she didn’t even need to ask. As they ate, Cheng Si popped a strawberry into his mouth and found it wasn’t sweet at all—it was tart and unripe. He felt relieved that Wen Xi had chosen the pie instead.

By 5:00 AM, the two arrived at the lobby to meet the class. The group boarded a rented ship and headed toward the waters where whales were known to frequent. The sky was gray, the wind was salty, and the waves crashed against the rocks.

The students on deck discussed the local legends. “Did you know? Seeing a whale breach is very rare. If you’re lucky enough to see it, and you make a wish the moment it leaps, it’ll come true.” “Is that true? I heard it’s not even whale season right now.” “That’s why if we see one, it’s double the luck. Remember to wish!”

Everyone began thinking about their deepest desires. Jiang Shuo nudged Cheng Si. “Do you have a wish?”

Cheng Si didn’t answer. He looked over at Wen Xi, who was standing a meter away. He overheard Lin Yang asking her if she had a wish. Amidst the noise, he heard Wen Xi’s reply: “I do.”

“Can I know what it is?” Lin Yang pressed.

Wen Xi looked out at the sea. The salty wind blew her hair into a mess. Perhaps because she was about to see the whales she supposedly loved, she was in a rare good mood. “I hope a certain someone stays safe and well, and can be a little happier every day.”

Lin Yang almost screamed. “A! CERTAIN! SOMEONE!” She looked pointedly at Cheng Si.

Wen Xi followed her gaze and locked eyes with Cheng Si, who didn’t look away in time. After that, no matter how much Lin Yang asked, Wen Xi remained silent.

Around 6:00 AM, a piercing scream erupted from the deck. “WHALES! THE WHALES REALLY APPEARED!!”

A massive whale breached nearby, shattering the calm surface and crashing back down with a thunderous splash that sent spray onto the deck. Then, one after another, a pod of whales surfaced.

Cheng Si turned to see Wen Xi filming with her camera, whispering her wish again. Wen Xi always seemed omnipotent—perfect, sacred, and somewhat defiant of fate. He was surprised that someone like her would believe in such ethereal legends.

Cheng Si’s ears turned red. He made the same wish, but he replaced “a certain someone” with Wen Xi’s name, adding: “I wish for her to always get what she wants.” To him, nothing made him happier than her being happy.

After the boat docked, the sun rose, scattering gold over the water. The students shed their windbreakers and ran toward the beach in their swimsuits.

Wen Xi wore a one-piece swimsuit and tied her long hair into a casual bun. As she stepped out of the changing room, Cheng Si emerged from the one next door. Without the baggy uniform, his physical power was fully visible: broad shoulders, a narrow waist, solid chest muscles, and a defined core. It was a body full of wild tension—completely unlike the traditional image of an Omega.

Wen Xi looked at the red, irritated skin where she had “marked” him and said coldly, “You’re going out like that?”

“Is there a problem?” Cheng Si asked. He wore this for swim class, so he didn’t see the issue. “There is,” Wen Xi pointed at the marks, mocking him ruthlessly. “Your Alpha friends will ask you who bit you like that last night.”

Cheng Si’s face turned bright red. Wen Xi had been relatively restrained, so he hadn’t thought it was that obvious. He went back in and changed into a full-body suit to hide the ambiguous marks.

At the beach, Wen Xi headed straight for a lounge chair. “Go play. You don’t need to follow me.” “You aren’t going in?” “No, I have thalassophobia (fear of the sea).”

Wen Xi put on her sunglasses. She had reached the goal of the trip (the whales), so she had no interest in anything else.

“Then I won’t go either,” Cheng Si sat on the chair next to her. Wen Xi figured he hadn’t slept well either, so she let him stay to nap in the sun.

As the sun warmed them, Wen Xi began to drift off. Suddenly, Cheng Si leaned over. “Wen Xi, can I see the whale photos you just took?”

“Take it.” Wen Xi extended the arm with the camera strap toward him.

The camera was worn, clearly not a new model. Cheng Si scrolled through and found thousands of whale photos spanning years—far longer than he had known her. “You took all of these yourself?”

“Mostly,” Wen Xi replied lazily.

Cheng Si hesitated. “If you have thalassophobia… why do you like whales so much?”

“I never said I liked them,” Wen Xi denied casually.

“What?” Cheng Si looked at her in shock. “If you don’t like them, why take so many photos?”

Wen Xi’s sleepiness vanished. Her eyes behind the sunglasses flickered with hesitation, but knowing he would find out eventually, she decided to be honest to avoid future trouble.

“I took them for Dr. Pei. He’s the one who likes them.”