Chapter Text
"They say soulmates are always destined to find each other and... well, sometimes fate acts in unusual ways to make that happen."
For the first time in his life, Wei Wuxian had achieved financial stability. Well, at least that’s what he believed for a brief moment. He worked as a freelance designer and was also a substitute art teacher at a small kindergarten. Okay, they weren’t exactly stable jobs, but he earned well, alright? There was a company that hired him regularly enough, and the payment for each project was relatively high. And while his teaching salary wasn’t much, he loved the profession and genuinely enjoyed spending time with the children.
On top of that, after a long legal process, he had managed to claim a forgotten inheritance: the house his parents had left behind. He had been orphaned very young, so it took him a long time to discover that his parents had left him something more than longing and blurred memories.
He had only gotten the deed two months earlier and was absolutely eager to finish renovating the property.
However, Wuxian had forgotten one little detail: the fact that he was, without a doubt, living proof that bad luck really does exist.
Even when he had every reason in the world to become a bitter person, Wuxian was like a ray of sunshine, with his bright eyes and a huge smile on his face. He never let himself be discouraged, always sacrificing himself, always making sure others were okay, even if it cost him pieces of himself and his own happiness.
So, when his adoptive brother had a motorcycle accident, Wuxian didn’t hesitate to help, paying the hospital debt anonymously. It’s impressive how a relatively simple surgery and just a few weeks in an uncomfortable hospital bed can cost a small fortune, isn’t it? Add that to the bills Wuxian already had, including the materials and labor for the house renovations that were already underway.
That’s when things got complicated: he took out a small loan from the bank and put his parents’ old house up as collateral for the mortgage. It wasn’t a huge amount, and he even managed to keep up with the payments for a while, emptying the last cents from his bank account, doing odd jobs at restaurants, accepting any project, even if it didn’t pay what it should have. After all, he wasn’t in a position to bargain. Any amount was welcome.
The problem was, everything snowballed with all the fees and interest. One installment was already overdue, and if he didn’t settle the debt within the next three months, Wuxian would lose the only asset his parents had left him.
The sentimental value of that house was immeasurable.
It was then that, one day, while burying his sorrows in a giant tub of ice cream, Wuxian watched a documentary about the baby industry. Okay, maybe it wasn’t exactly right to call it that, since the documentary was actually about fertilization methods and techniques. But the truth is, the whole thing was still highly profitable—like a capitalist business that commodified human lives.
At first, Wuxian was a little shocked, but he understood why people sought different methods to conceive a baby. But why not adopt?
At that point, there were some testimonials—and maybe, just maybe, Wuxian had cried a little. That’s when he first heard about surrogacy, or, in places where the law didn’t allow money to be involved, what they called altruistic surrogacy.
In the case shown on TV, the embryo was created through in vitro fertilization techniques and then transferred to the womb of an omega woman who was paid for it. Later, when the child was born, they was returned to the parents.
Glued to the screen, watching a little girl eagerly sucking on a bottle, Wuxian wondered how someone could give up a child they had carried in their own womb. At the same time, he thought it was incredibly noble to offer one’s own body to create life and fulfill the dream of those who could never ease the ache of wanting children.
The laws surrounding this method varied widely. Some countries didn’t allow women who carried the baby to receive payment for it — only medical consultations and other pregnancy-related expenses, like childbirth, were covered. On the other hand, in countries where paid surrogacy was legal, there was a full-blown industry. Wuxian was stunned by how much money a woman could make in just nine months. Let’s just say it was more than enough to settle his remaining debt.
"Do they also accept omega men?" Wuxian wondered.
However, when the documentary shifted to exposing the darker side of it all, cases of surrogate exploitation and a high rate of sex-selective abortions, Wuxian dropped the idea.
Temporarily.
Weeks later, when a letter from the bank arrived with a huge red warning printed in bold letters, Wuxian returned to the thought.
He spent days researching the subject, looking up references, reliable clinics, medical opinions, testimonials from parents who had gone through the process, as well as stories from women and omega men who had offered their wombs to carry someone else’s child.
By some miracle, the top-rated clinic wasn’t too far away—just across the state line, about a three-hour drive.
When the weekend came, Wuxian decided to pay a visit, hoping to see the facilities and clear his doubts in person.
See, it wasn’t something he did entirely on impulse. Nor was it solely about the money, though in the beginning, that had certainly been his main motivation. He weighed all the pros and cons: the consequences it could bring, the responsibility of carrying a child that wouldn’t truly be his, the risks to his health, the changes his body would undergo, the nausea and common pregnancy symptoms... all that sacrifice for a child that wouldn’t be his.
Then he thought of the potential couple—dreaming of parenthood, dreaming of holding a tiny human in their arms. He thought of them and felt he could do it. He believed he could give that joy to someone else. After all, it wasn’t like his womb was going to be put to any other use. Wuxian didn’t intend to have children of his own. Maybe he had dreamed of it once, but that was a long time ago—before people had chipped away at that desire, little by little, year after year.
When Wuxian presented as an omega, people had told him more than once that there was something wrong with his nature. Well, of course! How could Wei Wuxian—the personification of chaos, so clumsy and irresponsible—ever be a father?
The truth was, they were all wrong. Wuxian was actually very good with children.
But when a lie is repeated often enough, you start to believe it.
So, when the topic came up, he agreed: parenthood wasn’t something meant for someone like Wei Ying.
𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
If money was Wuxian’s main reason for seeking out that clinic, Lan Wangji’s was entirely different.
Lan Wangji had always wanted to be a father.
Though he was hard as jade on the outside, inside he was soft and gentle—like cotton candy—contrary to what his rigid demeanor suggested.
His problem was social skills—or rather, his lack of them.
Relationships were... complicated, utterly exhausting for someone so introverted, and he simply didn’t know how to deal with people very well. At 32 years old, Lan Wangji had never fallen in love. So, day after day, the dream of becoming a father seemed more and more unlikely.
After a long and traumatizing adoption process that ended in failure, Wangji turned to a highly renowned fertility clinic in his city.
Until then, he had never truly stopped to appreciate the gift of being rich.
𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
The first time they met was also the first time Wangji visited the clinic, seeking some information.
He was in the elevator, and just as the doors were about to close, a young man rushed in, stumbling. Flustered, the stranger ended up grabbing the alpha’s arms for support so he wouldn’t fall face-first to the ground.
Lan Wangji stiffened at the sudden physical contact and didn’t move an inch. When the stranger lifted his head, meeting his eyes for the first time, Wangji found himself staring at the most beautiful person he had ever seen. His eyes were large and bright, his cheekbones sharp, and on the corner of his lips sat an adorable little mole.
Wuxian, for his part, gave a nervous chuckle and quickly composed himself.
"Oh! Sorry! I really didn’t mean to." Pulling away, he pressed the button for the 8th floor while muttering complaints about being late, blaming the traffic and how the world shouldn’t even function before 9 a.m., because getting out of bed any earlier than that should be considered some sort of crime or something like it.
Without saying a single word, Wangji wondered how it could be humanly possible for someone to speak so many words per second.
Inside the metal elevator, the young man’s scent became impossible to ignore—sweet, like a peony flower or... maybe lotus? Yes, lotus. The fragrance brought him the sense of a calm morning, like a gentle drizzle at dawn, soft and laced with the comforting smell of wet earth.
Unique. Unmistakable.
It was obvious the young man was an omega. Yet, he didn’t fit the delicate and fragile stereotype usually attached to that secondary sex.
Despite some curvier features, like a narrow waist, Wangji noticed the lean, well-defined muscles in his arms. Nothing excessive, just the kind of tone that came naturally from regular physical activity. He was also tall, maybe only a few centimeters shorter than Wangji himself.
But his most striking feature was his smile.
Warm. Inviting.
Not long after, the doors opened and Wuxian bounced out, murmuring a cheerful, "Have a good day!". Only then did Lan Wangji snap out of his daze. He opened his mouth to respond, but it was too late. The omega was gone.
The alpha, on the other hand, continued on his way to the sixteenth floor of the massive hospital complex.
There, he met with a doctor, seeking guidance about the procedure, asking how insemination was done, and more importantly, how omegas and women were chosen, and how monitoring was carried out during the months of pregnancy...
Lan Wangji learned that the selection was handled by an agency affiliated with the clinic. Those chosen were strictly monitored, with regular exams and psychological support. Weekly reports were also required.
He left satisfied with what he heard, a little optimistic, carrying a dozen pamphlets and a copy of the contract.
It was expressly forbidden for the client to have direct contact with the surrogate mother—that is, the person carrying the baby. All communication between the parties had to be mediated by the clinic.
On one hand, this was a blessing for Lan Wangji, as it meant he wouldn’t have to interact with a stranger to get updates about the baby, though deep down, he longed to be part of those moments—like attending the first ultrasound and hearing the heartbeat in person, not just from a recording.
Wangji perfectly understood the reason for anonymity. After all, rules existed for a reason and had to be followed to the letter. That was a principle instilled in him very early on.
However, if fate chose to grant his private wish, putting in his path the omega destined to carry his child, no one could blame Wangji for breaking the rules.
The whole process was long.
One day, while waiting for the results of his blood tests—a requirement to confirm he had no STIs or infectious diseases that could be transmitted to or harm the surrogate—Lan Wangji crossed paths with Wei Wuxian again.
Lan Wangji was seated in the waiting room when the sound of loud laughter drew his attention. Across the room, the same young man from the elevator was chatting cheerfully with a doctor at the reception desk. His long black hair was tied with a red ribbon. His shirt matched the ribbon, standing out against the tight jeans that highlighted his curves.
Lan Wangji’s ears turned slightly pink as he realized he was paying far too much attention to the other man’s body.
The curious thing was that, even from that distance, Wangji could still smell him. He could easily distinguish that sweet floral fragrance among all the other scents in the room.
Wangji didn’t understand why it was so attractive to him, or why he felt nearly hypnotized every time he saw him.
Judging by the way the gray-eyed man casually leaned across the counter or the familiarity with which he draped an arm over the woman in the white coat, Wangji wondered if he worked there or something. But given his casual clothes and lack of uniform, it didn’t seem likely.
It was obvious how his presence lit up the space like sunshine. People passing by greeted him with a smile, and he politely returned each one.
Wei Wuxian became a familiar face around the clinic. He had spent the last three months undergoing regular exams and had stopped taking suppressors in favor of hormones and a range of natural medicines prescribed for fertility.
This time, Wuxian was too distracted to notice the alpha’s watchful gaze from the corner of the room. He said goodbye to the staff and left, leaving Wangji a little frustrated, though he didn’t know why.
In the following weeks, Lan Wangji went through a battery of tests and detailed medical follow-ups before finally handing a nurse a still-warm cup of sperm.
It was the most embarrassing moment of his life.
But it was fine. He was happier and more excited than he had ever been.
The days dragged on, as if time and the universe themselves were mocking him. Wangji spent them checking his emails every ten minutes, staring at his phone most of the day, waiting for the call that would confirm everything—that would change his life.
It took several weeks before he finally got a call from the clinic. The receptionist didn’t specify why, only that it was urgent and he should come as soon as possible. During the entire trip there, Lan Wangji was lost in thought. Though his body language didn’t betray him, inside, something gnawed at him, crushing his chest.
Fear.
Had something gone wrong?
When he reached the twenty-third floor of the massive hospital complex, however, Wangji was welcomed by a kind doctor. The smile she carried wasn’t enough to ease the anxiety hidden beneath his flawless jade-like face.
Walking down the white hallways, he followed her into a private, cozy office, despite the characteristic sterile scent of a hospital.
Before he could open his mouth to ask why he’d been called in, the doctor unlocked a cabinet behind her desk and then turned to him, handing over a small white box with stripes on the side. On top was a curious drawing of a rabbit... with a pacifier in its mouth.
It was cute and funny.
A tiny smile appeared on Wangji’s lips.
"Congratulations, Mr. Lan."
His hands trembled as he untied the ribbon, opening the box. Inside, there were only three items.
And Wangji felt the urge to cry at the sight of them.
The first was an envelope containing the results of a beta-hCG test, also known as the well-known blood test that detects pregnancy. The second was an ultrasound photo, where nothing could be seen except for a tiny smudge that looked more like a bean than anything else.
A little emotional, he studied the image for a moment, the tip of his thumb softly brushing over it.
Only then did his eyes fall on the third and final item: a tiny pair of...
"Red Converse?"
Noticing Lan Wangji’s curious gaze lingering on the miniature sneakers, the doctor murmured:
"The shoes are a courtesy from your surrogate. He picked them out."
"He?"
That piece of information was new. According to the contract, Wangji wasn’t supposed to know much about the surrogate. Until then, he had assumed it was a woman.
So, it wasn’t a surrogate mother after all, but rather... a surrogate father?
Without taking his eyes off the items, Lan Wangji silently wondered what kind of person the surrogate carrying his baby might be. Maybe he liked this style?
A few days earlier, while shopping, Wangji hadn’t been able to resist buying a pair of baby shoes himself, too eager to wait for news from the clinic. The pair he chose, however, had been soft blue crochet, very delicate.
Touching the crimson-red Converse, Wangji could only assume his surrogate’s tastes were very different from his own.
And yet, he loved it.
𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
Only three days later, Wangji had to return to the clinic.
Due to a registration error, the payment wasn’t being properly debited from his account, so he brought along some documents and copies of bank statements to resolve the issue.
That’s when Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian met for the third time.
Wangji was just a few steps from the entrance when a soft voice called out from a few meters away, catching his attention.
“Oh! Hello! We meet again, huh?”
Golden eyes landed on the man dressed in black. Wuxian waved enthusiastically as he approached.
“We saw each other in the elevator a while ago, remember?”
He chattered quickly, falling into step beside Wangji as they entered the building. Once again, Wangji wondered how it was humanly possible for someone to speak so much and so fast.
“You know, people say I have a bad memory, but I would never forget a handsome face like yours.” Wuxian laughed and gave him a cheeky wink.
Wangji suddenly froze, his gaze locked on the man before him, stunned. Was he... flirting?
No one had ever complimented Wangji so directly before, so of course he was somewhat unsettled.
Unaware of the alpha’s reaction, Wuxian stepped ahead and pressed the button to call the elevator. Wangji quickly regained his composure and followed.
This could have been one of those awkward moments when two strangers silently shared the confined space of an elevator. But not with Wei Wuxian around. He chatted about the weather, how it was the perfect season to grow parsley, and how he needed more space to plant herbs. Wuxian also described the soup he’d made the night before, using scallions and chili peppers he had grown himself.
As he spoke, Lan Wangji once again found himself captivated by the man’s scent. From the very first day, something about him had drawn Wangji in. This time, however, there was something different—something that stirred his alpha instincts violently.
His scent had changed.
Wangji clenched his fists at his sides, forcing himself not to give in to the impulse to move closer. It made no sense. Why, all of a sudden, did he have this desperate urge to be right next to him? He wasn’t even far away, yet that small distance didn’t feel like enough.
That’s when he understood.
Wuxian’s aroma was sweeter now. It still smelled of lotus, but there was something else... something like milk and honey.
The scent of a pregnant omega.
Well, that explained why his alpha side was so restless.
Wangji felt something sink in his stomach. Was he taken? A bonded omega?
Maybe that explained why he seemed like such a regular at the clinic—it was, after all, a fertility clinic. Perhaps all this time he had been undergoing treatment to conceive...
If that were the case, then he and his partner must be very happy.
But why couldn’t Wangji smell an alpha on him?
Thinking about it, he realized he had never once seen the beautiful gray-eyed man accompanied.
“If he were mine... I’d never leave my omega alone in a hospital” Wangji thought.
With a restrained sigh, he tried to push those thoughts aside. He shouldn’t make so many rash assumptions. Maybe the other didn’t actually have a partner at all. Maybe, like Wangji, he was just a single man seeking his own path to parenthood.
Still, he allowed himself to focus on that delicious fragrance. There was something in the air around the gray-eyed man he couldn’t quite identify, something gently overflowing and though Wangji didn’t know what it was, it felt strangely familiar.
“...and that’s why you can’t leave that kind of plant exposed directly to sunlight and... oh! Is something wrong?” Wuxian was still chattering, but when he noticed the other looking distracted, staring at him oddly, he fell silent.
“You are... expecting.”
It was the first time Wuxian had heard the voice of the beautiful man with the jade expression. He tried not to show how deeply it affected him. Those golden eyes were fixed on his belly. Following the direction of his gaze, Wuxian finally understood. “Oh! Ah! Yes, yes! But how did you know?”
Wangji turned to face the metal doors, silently hoping his hair hid the flush creeping up his ears.
“Wow! You sniffed it out, didn’t you? Your alpha instincts must be really strong! most can’t pick up on it.”
His tone was playful, teasing, and Wangji tried not to dwell on it. Luckily, Wuxian didn’t wait for an answer and kept talking.
“It’s still pretty recent, I’m almost four weeks along. Did you know most people only find out after the sixth week? Or like when they’re already two or three months in? But here, they’re really strict. About ten to fifteen days after I... well, here they require the blood test around the second week after... conception.”Wuxian rambled, carefully omitting the insemination part.
For a brief second, Wei Ying noticed a flicker of confusion cross the handsome alpha’s face. But before he could ask, the elevator doors slid open. Wuxian shrugged and hopped out, not without flashing one of his brightest smiles. With that bold tone of his, he said goodbye:
“I hope I get to see you again. Have a great day, see you!”
And with that, he turned and walked away.
Before the elevator doors closed again, Lan Wangji watched the silhouette retreating. His hair was tied high in a ponytail, swaying gracefully with each step. He wore a checkered hoodie and the same jeans that hugged the curves of his hips just right.
Usually, Wangji was very observant. But at that moment, he was far too distracted to notice that on his feet, the man was wearing a pair of red Converse.
𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
The signs had been there all along. Maybe they hadn’t been obvious, but they had always been there.
Alphas are usually very protective of pregnant omegas, especially when it comes to their partners. It’s a natural instinct. They’re also the ones who notice the first hormonal changes, often detecting pregnancy through subtle shifts in their companions’ scent. A baby strengthens the bond and draws the alpha closer to the omega—even if they’re not officially bonded.
Still, how could Wangji have guessed based on something so common and superficial?
How could he have known he’d already run into his surrogate more than once?
Alright, about the red Converse thing, there was no way he could’ve known that. Wuxian just thought couple-like things were cute, so for him, “parent and child” matching accessories were even more adorable. He had a pair of red Converse and simply thought the baby should have one too. Sure, Wei Wuxian knew the child wasn’t his, but since he was the one “cultivating” the baby in his belly, he allowed himself that small indulgence.
From the beginning, subtle coincidences had been happening, too faint for either of them to notice.
But when coincidences begin to form a pattern, they stop being coincidences.
Some call it synchronicity. Others call it destiny.
And the fact was, even in such a massive clinic, divided into twenty-five floors and countless wings, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji always ended up running into each other. That hadn’t been the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.
Secretly, both of them longed for the next brief encounter.
Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long.
The fourth time they crossed paths (yes, Lan Wangji was keeping count) was also the moment Wangji discovered that the nameless stranger from the elevator was his surrogate.
It all began with a list.
Lan Wangji was radiant at the thought of becoming a father. He spent his free time reading about newborn care and early childhood development. One thing led to another, and soon he found himself devouring books on pregnancy and gestation as well. He discovered how many things could go wrong during this period, especially in the first trimester. One night, after reading an article about miscarriages, he lay awake, restless.
Wangji had learned he would be a father less than two weeks ago, the result of a long and solitary journey that began well before he handed a nurse that small cup containing his seed.
He imagined cradling the baby in his arms, rocking it against his chest, feeding it in the mornings, placing rubber ducks in the tiny bathtub...
He already felt like a father. He already loved this baby.
So the slightest possibility of losing it... hurt. It hurt so much he couldn’t measure the weight crushing his chest, suffocating him.
Wangji had lost loved ones before. He didn’t think he could bear losing another.
After that sleepless night, the first thing he did in the morning was research more about the subject. Nutrition, he discovered, was fundamental for fetal development. He knew the clinic was strict and that surrogates were given diets approved by nutritionists.
Still, Wangji hadn’t seen the details of his surrogate’s plan yet, so he decided to make sure everything was being done properly.
For the fortune he was paying the clinic—and therefore the surrogate as well—Lan Wangji had the right to make certain requests. He never thought he’d need to, but when it came to his child’s wellbeing, he allowed himself a moment of protectiveness.
So he made a list of foods which, if approved by the nutritionist, should be added to his surrogate’s diet. Along with fish and sesame seeds—rich in vitamin B3, according to a recent study he’d read, which claimed the vitamin could prevent fetal malformations and certain newborn diseases—Lan Wangji included kale, spinach, broccoli, and turnips.
Meticulous as always, he compiled the list and sent it to the clinic.
About two days later, Wangji was summoned back. The payment issue persisted due to some kind of system error. The last two transfers hadn’t gone through, which was absurd. How could someone like Lan Wangji—wealthy and responsible—be flagged as delinquent?
The thought that his name might have a “debtor” tag next to it in the system made him uneasy.
The clinic in question was notoriously elitist, serving only nobles and high-ranking individuals.
So what was happening to Wangji was not a common problem—it almost never happened.
Well, in this case, one might say destiny had a hand in it.
On a relatively chilly Thursday, Wangji stepped into the elevator of the massive hospital complex. Leaving the administrative wing, he pressed the button for the ground floor, relieved to have finally settled the issue. He could now return home, resume his work, and wait for more news about his child.
Except this time, he didn’t need to wait for an email. Because when the elevator doors opened on the nineteenth floor, Wangji found his surrogate.
Of course, he didn’t know that last detail yet...
When the doors slid open, golden eyes fell on two figures. One seemed to be a doctor, judging by the stethoscope around her neck. The other was the handsome man with long hair and a captivating smile.
“...I’m sure you’ll survive,” the woman said, exasperated.
For a moment, Wangji worried. Was something wrong with that cheerful man? He had obviously missed part of the conversation, so he focused on the sulking figure who stepped into the elevator.
“I won’t! I’m going to die like this! I won’t make it to next month’s appointment, and when you come looking for me, you’ll find my corpse rotting in my kitchen!”
Despite the grim words, his voice was whiny, almost like a pouting child. His lips even jutted out in an exaggerated pout.
Lan Wangji found it adorable.
The doctor merely rolled her eyes and walked away just before the doors closed.
Wei Wuxian was still staring at his shoes, sulking. But when his gray eyes finally met Wangji’s golden ones, a wide grin lit up his face.
“Oh! It’s you again! How are you?”
It took Wangji a second longer to respond, utterly entranced by the sweet scent of the other.
There it was again: beyond the lotus fragrance and the distinct scent of a pregnant omega, something else lingered in the air. Something strangely familiar that he couldn’t quite place.
“But it’s so good...” he thought.
“Excellent! I’m doing great, actually!” Wuxian said brightly. The alpha’s presence made him strangely nervous. But who could blame him? How could anyone remain composed in front of the eighth wonder of the world? That golden-eyed man’s beauty was nearly ethereal. He had to have been sculpted in the heavens by some divine hand. Wuxian was sure of it. It was almost unfair for a mere mortal like him to stand in the presence of such a godlike man—much a gorgeous, divine man.
Lan Wangji, meanwhile, seemed to consider his words carefully before finally saying:
“You... looked upset two seconds ago..”
Wuxian leaned against the metal wall and pouted again.
“You won’t believe it! They want me to eat turnips! TURNIPS!” Wuxian whined as though it were the most outrageous thing in the world. “Look, I already have this massive list of food restrictions, and an even bigger list of recommendations. That was fine, I could handle that! With all the supplements they make me take, my diet wasn’t too strict. But now... now they’re insisting I eat these specific things, and that’s just too much! I mean, it’s not like I don’t eat them normally, right? The bean thing, okay, fine. I don’t like beans, but that was bearable. But turnips... I hate turnips! I can’t stand them, you know? And this is all because of some request from this person! this person I don’t even know! it’s just too much for me! I don’t have much information, but I bet it’s some hysterical, overprotective woman! Look at what she asked the clinic to pass along to me.”
Wuxian pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket, rambling more to himself than to Wangji, not caring whether the beautiful golden-eyed man was following or not. He just needed to vent.
By this point, Lan Wangji was a little confused. What a strange coincidence...
But when the stranger shoved the paper into his hands, Wangji’s world turned upside down.
Wuxian was too absorbed in his rant to notice the shock flicker across the alpha’s usually stoic face.
Wangji let out a sharp breath.
In his hands was an exact copy of the list he had written. Not a single word was out of place. Even the solemn message at the top, where he had explained and justified his request, was there.
Suddenly, he understood.
The faint scent hovering around the man—that aroma he hadn’t been able to identify—was his own.
It was sandalwood.
The beautiful, cheerful stranger standing before him was his surrogate.
The man who had captivated Lan Wangji from the very first day... was carrying his baby.