Why Is This Omega Stalking Me…?

Chapter 63

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Jiang Li froze at the question, his entire body going still as though something inside him had suddenly been struck. His eyes widened slowly as they lifted to meet Doctor Norman’s gaze, and for a brief moment, it felt as though the world around him had shifted, tilting into something unfamiliar and suffocating. The air seemed thinner, harder to breathe, and no matter how much he tried to steady himself, his chest tightened painfully as his breathing faltered.

A tremor ran through him, subtle at first but quickly becoming impossible to hide.

Shen Yu noticed immediately.

His expression darkened as his gaze shifted from Jiang Li to Doctor Norman, the calm composure he usually carried giving way to something colder, something far more dangerous. His eyes sharpened, the quiet warning in them heavy enough to change the atmosphere around them, making the air feel tense and oppressive.

Doctor Norman did not look away.

Instead, his sharp blue eyes remained fixed on Jiang Li, observing him carefully, as though every small detail mattered. He took in the widening fear in Jiang Li’s honey-brown eyes, the trembling of his hands, and the way his lips parted without forming words. There was something distant in his expression now, something unfocused, as though he were no longer entirely present in the moment.

It did not take long for the answer to become clear.

Why else would he react like this?

Why else would his expression look as though something buried had just been dragged into the light?

"Eleven years ago," Doctor Norman began slowly, his tone calm but deliberate, "a mother came here carrying a boy who was barely breathing. His condition was critical, but what stood out most was his scent. It was unstable, dangerously so, and unlike anything I had encountered before or since."

He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle before continuing.

"It was not something that should have existed in a child."

His gaze did not waver.

"Perhaps that boy was you, Mr. Jiang Li."

Jiang Li’s fingers tightened instinctively around Shen Yu’s coat, clutching the fabric as though it were the only thing grounding him. His lips parted, a weak attempt at speaking forming in his throat, but the words refused to come. His thoughts were slipping away from the present, pulled into something darker, something he had tried for years to avoid.

"I... I..." he stammered, his voice fragile, barely audible.

The fear in his eyes deepened, shifting into something distant, hollow, as though he were no longer looking at Doctor Norman, but at something only he could see.

Shen Yu’s expression hardened.

"You’re not having this conversation today," he said coldly, his voice cutting cleanly through the tension.

There was no room for argument in his tone.

He turned slightly toward Jiang Li, his voice lowering just enough to soften its edge.

"Let’s go."

But Jiang Li didn’t move.

Instead, he took a small step back, his head shaking slowly as if he were trying to deny something that had already begun to take hold of him.

For how long are you going to run away from your past?

The voice echoed clearly in his mind, so vivid that it felt real.

Luo Xin.

The memory surfaced without warning, pulling him backward into a time he had never truly escaped.

He could see the room again, dimly lit and unbearably quiet. The silence had always felt suffocating there, pressing down on him until it became difficult to think, to breathe, to exist. He remembered lying on the bed, unmoving, refusing to eat, refusing to sleep, letting the days blur into one another because it was easier than facing anything else.

He had been too afraid to go home.

Too afraid to face what waited for him there.

So Luo Xin’s father had taken him in without hesitation.

He had been gentle, patient, and understanding in a way that Jiang Li had not expected. He never pushed too hard, never demanded answers Jiang Li wasn’t ready to give, but he remained present, offering quiet support that never felt overwhelming.

He treated Jiang Li like family.

Like a son.

And yet, even in that safe place, Jiang Li had not been able to escape what followed him.

Every night, he would wake up screaming.

His body would be drenched in sweat, his chest heaving as though he had been running for his life, his eyes wide and unfocused as if he were still trapped in whatever nightmare had taken hold of him. Dark circles deepened beneath his eyes with each passing day, his body growing weaker, his mind more fragile, until even the smallest touch would make him flinch violently.

He had only been twelve years old.

Twelve, and already breaking under a weight he did not know how to carry.

The thought had come to him slowly at first.

Then more often.

If he disappeared, the pain would stop.

If he disappeared, everything would finally become quiet.

It had seemed simple.

It had seemed like the only way.

He remembered the moment it almost happened, the darkness closing in around him, the feeling of everything slipping away, and then—

He remembered waking up.

Not to quiet comfort.

Not to gentle reassurance.

But to Luo Xin gripping his shoulders tightly, her hands trembling as she shook him, her voice breaking as she shouted at him through her tears.

"Stop running away from your past and learn to face it!" she had cried, her voice filled with fear and desperation. "If you don’t stop now, it will follow you forever. Do you think dying will make it easier? Do you think there is some kind of escape waiting for you?"

Her voice had cracked, the anger giving way to something softer, something fragile.

"It won’t. You will only suffer more for trying to throw your life away."

Then, more quietly, almost pleading, she had whispered, "Please... don’t do this."

Years had passed since then.

But the past had never left him.

No matter how far he ran, no matter how much he tried to ignore it, it remained, clinging to him, waiting for moments like this to resurface.

Just as she had said it would.

Jiang Li’s vision blurred as the present began to fade, replaced by something far more vivid and suffocating.

He saw a child standing in front of him.

The boy was small, fragile, but there was something overwhelming in his presence. His hands pressed tightly against Jiang Li’s chest, as though he were trying to crush something inside him, making it impossible to breathe. His face was twisted with pain and anger, his voice rising as he shouted words that Jiang Li knew far too well.

They were the same words his father had once shouted.

The same tone.

The same cruelty.

Jiang Li’s eyes widened in horror as he stared at the boy, realization hitting him with devastating clarity.

The child was him.

It was the version of himself he had tried so hard to forget.

The broken, terrified eleven-year-old who had never been allowed to heal.

The truth settled heavily within him, leaving no room for denial.

He was the reason the past had never let him go.

He was the reason the nightmares had never stopped.

He was the one who had abandoned that child.

His chest tightened violently as his knees gave out beneath him, and he collapsed, his breathing turning frantic as panic overtook him completely.

Shen Yu reacted immediately, catching him before he could hit the ground, pulling him close as Jiang Li cried uncontrollably, his body shaking as he tried to push him away.

"Let me go," Jiang Li cried, his voice breaking under the weight of everything he was feeling.

Doctor Norman watched, shock evident in his expression, but Shen Yu did not loosen his hold.

Instead, he held Jiang Li more firmly, his presence steady and unyielding.

Without consciously realizing it, his pheromones began to spread, calm and grounding, wrapping around Jiang Li in a way that slowly began to ease the overwhelming panic.

At first, Jiang Li struggled against him, his movements desperate and uncoordinated.

But gradually, his strength began to fade.

The image of the child blurred.

The shouting quieted.

The suffocating pressure eased just enough for him to breathe again.

And when he looked up, it was no longer his past staring back at him.

It was Shen Yu.

Jiang Li clung to him, his fingers tightening in the fabric of his coat as his sobs softened, his body still trembling but no longer resisting.

He could not tell whether the tears were born from relief or from the painful understanding that had finally taken root within him.

For the first time, he understood why he had never been able to move forward, why the past had followed him so relentlessly, refusing to loosen its grip.

It was because he had never allowed himself to heal.

He had spent years trying to act normal, trying to meet expectations, trying to fix something that others had labeled as broken, without ever turning his attention to the part of himself that had been hurting the most.

Slowly, with reddened eyes, Jiang Li lifted his gaze toward Doctor Norman, who stood quietly, watching the scene unfold.

And once again, Luo Xin’s voice echoed in his mind, softer now, but no less clear.

"Stop running away from your past... Li-Li..."

Jiang Li sniffled softly, his breathing gradually steadying.

"You asked if that boy was me," he said quietly, his voice still fragile but no longer breaking.

"Jiang Li," Shen Yu warned, his tone low.

But Jiang Li did not stop.

His gaze remained fixed on Doctor Norman.

A faint smile formed on his lips, but it carried no warmth, no happiness, only something heavy and bittersweet.

"I was that boy," he said softly. "That unnatural, sick boy... was me."

Tears slipped down his face as the truth settled fully between them.

This time, he did not look away.

This time, he did not try to run.

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