Can Alpha Also Be A Wife? - Chapter 19

Chapter 19 — I Feel Sorry for You

Lin Fansheng and Lu Shihuai were led downstairs by the building manager to join the rest of the group. They were told to stand in the back as the man overseeing the worksite, Benson, stepped forward.

At first glance, Benson seemed like a harmless, clean-cut young man—but the whip he casually toyed with told a different story. No one dared meet his gaze. That whip had left its mark on plenty of people already. If someone so much as frowned the wrong way in his presence, they paid the price.

Some had tried to resist, refusing to be treated like livestock. They disappeared shortly afterward—never to be seen again.

So, over time, everyone learned to keep quiet. Those who stayed had their reasons—mainly the promise of wealth. Resources were scarce on Hillier, and working in a mine, no matter how brutal, still paid far more than most could hope for. They endured, hoping to one day buy their way out.

Now, Benson stood with his whip gleaming under the sun. He scanned the group coldly.

“Someone took something from me today. Whoever it was, step forward now, and I might let you live.”

The crowd stayed silent. Only Lu Shihuai and Lin Fansheng knew there was no theft—Benson was using it as an excuse. This was his twisted way of punishing someone who had refused his advances.

When no one confessed, Benson smiled cruelly. “So no one wants to own up? Fine, let’s see who fate picks.”

He signaled, and a group of black-winged butterflies—larger than average, almost unnervingly graceful—flew into the crowd. Each one shimmered with soft light, their beauty a contrast to the tension they brought. These butterflies weren’t just for show—they were trained trackers.

They passed person after person, landing briefly before moving on. Finally, one paused on Lin Fansheng.

Benson’s gaze snapped to him. But the butterfly soon fluttered off like it had with everyone else.

Still, the false suspicion was enough. Benson’s mood soured.

He turned to the building manager. “Everyone not on shift today is here?”

The man nodded nervously. “Yes—everyone is accounted for.”

Benson didn’t believe him, but let it go. Instead, he approached Lin Fansheng and Lu Shihuai directly.

“You two—why were you late?”

His tone was sharp, and the whip was already in motion. Lu Shihuai stepped in front of Lin Fansheng, shielding him. His answer was cold and clipped: “That’s private.”

That didn’t sit well with Benson. He lashed out immediately.

The whip struck across Lu Shihuai’s chest, tearing through the fabric and leaving a raw, bloody gash. Gasps rippled through the crowd, but no one dared intervene.

Benson raised the whip again.

This time, Lin Fansheng moved. He stepped in front of Lu Shihuai and caught the blow with his hands.

Though Lu Shihuai tried to stop him, it was too late. He reacted instantly, cradling Lin Fansheng and ignoring the stares. He was ready to carry him straight to the infirmary.

But Benson blocked their path.

“What exactly is your relationship?” he asked, suspicious.

Lu Shihuai glared at him. “Not your concern.”

The building manager jumped in before things could escalate. Desperate to explain, he blurted out, “They’re partners! That’s why they were late—they were, uh… doing what couples do.”

That clearly embarrassed him, and Lin Fansheng blushed even harder, burying his face in Lu Shihuai’s shoulder—until he saw the bl00d staining his shirt. He quickly pulled back, worry overtaking embarrassment.

Trying to sell the story, he let Benson see the marks on his neck—evidence of their “private time.” His eyes were red-rimmed, his lips flushed, and he put on a pitiful expression.

Benson stared, his eyes roaming over Lin Fansheng’s features—down his neck, along his slender frame.

Finally, Benson gave a slow, pleased smile.

“I like you,” he said. “Do what I ask, and I’ll let you take him to the infirmary.”

Lin Fansheng didn’t hesitate. “Fine. I agree.”

Lu Shihuai’s grip on his hand tightened. “What do you want from him?” he demanded.

Benson’s tone turned smug. “I like what others want but can’t have. So if you value your eyes, stop looking at me like that. Or I won’t guarantee what happens to your pretty little lover.”

Then, ignoring Lu Shihuai’s fury, he looked back at Lin Fansheng. “What’s your name?”

“…Lin Sheng,” he said softly.

“Nice name,” Benson replied, stepping forward and beckoning. “Come here.”

Lin Fansheng hesitated, then walked toward him, letting Benson loop an arm around his waist.

But Benson froze.

Only then did he realize—Lin Sheng was taller than he expected.

Now face-to-face, the difference in height and presence became uncomfortably obvious. He glanced toward Lu Shihuai, and it suddenly clicked: Lin Sheng only seemed delicate by comparison.

His ego bruised, Benson quickly dropped his arm. The snide comments he’d planned dried up on his tongue.

Lin Fansheng sensed the shift and took initiative. He leaned closer, feigning submission. “Can we go to the infirmary now?” he asked softly.

Benson shoved him back.

“Stay away from me!” he snapped, realizing too late how harsh he sounded. He tried to cover it up. “You’re bleeding—don’t get it on me.”

Then, trying to regain his footing, he said stiffly, “Come to my quarters tonight.”

With that, he stormed off.

Once he was gone, the building manager dismissed the crowd. As Lin Fansheng and Lu Shihuai walked away, everyone avoided their gaze—but the pity in their eyes was obvious.

Word spread fast: Benson had set his sights on someone again.

When they arrived at the infirmary, the doctor was already waiting. He patched up Lu Shihuai quietly.

“No one lasts long around Benson,” the doctor said with a sigh. “You’ve got guts… or a death wish.”

Lu Shihuai didn’t answer. He just pulled Lin Fansheng close, kissing the top of his head gently.

Lin Fansheng hugged him back, careful not to touch his wound.

The doctor gave them space and left.

Fu Mingxi’s voice crackled in through their comms. “No bugs in this room. You’re clear.”

But the two didn’t separate.

“Should we move tonight?” Lin Fansheng asked softly.

“Wait,” Fu Mingxi advised. “We want to catch him in the act—preferably mid-transaction. We need more than suspicion.”

Lin Fansheng sighed. “So I have to keep up this act for now.”

Lu Shihuai handed him a small vial. “Hallucinogen. You know how to use it.”

Lin Fansheng nodded, slipping it into his pocket. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him near me.”

Even if Benson tried anything, Lin Fansheng was still an Alpha. He’d be fine.

“Still,” Lu Shihuai said, watching his bandaged hands, “you shouldn’t have taken that hit for me.”

“I had to,” Lin Fansheng smiled gently. “You know I’m hard to hurt.”

Lu Shihuai stared at him. “But I hurt when you hurt.”

Fu Mingxi, realizing the tone was shifting, quietly muted the channel.

Not long after, Jiang Shuran walked in. “I sedated Lanros.”

“He’s acting up again?” Fu Mingxi asked, unfazed.

“Yeah. Kept shouting for the Marshal.”

“Leave him be. We’ll deal with it later.”

Back in the infirmary, Lin Fansheng was quiet for a moment. Then he glanced up at Lu Shihuai and said—almost shyly:

“You can’t stand seeing me hurt. And I can’t bear seeing you like that either.”

“No more playing hero, alright? You think I don’t feel anything when it’s you getting hurt?”

As soon as he said it, he slapped a hand over his mouth, startled at himself.

Was that too much? Too obvious?

But Lu Shihuai just smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting in that rare, unguarded way.

“I knew you cared,” he murmured, voice warm.

If Benson had seen that smile, he might’ve tried stealing both of them.

Lu Shihuai’s gaze softened. “If I hadn’t taken the whip, it would’ve hit you. And you… you wouldn’t have dodged, would you?”

Lin Fansheng shook his head.

They both knew what was at stake. If either of them moved too quickly or fought back too strongly, they’d risk exposing their true strength—and their entire mission.

Someone had to take the fall.

And Lu Shihuai had chosen to make it him.