FOBTS CH5

The event Yan Ci attended today was a commentary for a friendly match between e-sports streamers.

Before starting work, he requested some floral tea and snacks from the sponsors and set up a small table for Song Ruochen.

“This table is so small,” Yan Ci said. “It can only hold 23 little cakes. Secretary Song, you eat first.”

“That’s enough, Madam,” Song Ruochen replied. “I, Song Ruochen, don’t want to turn into ‘Song Overstuffed.’”

Yan Ci: “…”

“I’m off to work then,” Yan Ci said.

“Go,” Song Ruochen replied.

He shared some of the cakes with nearby fans, then opened his phone and pulled up Jian Feng’s WeChat.

[Song Ruochen: The president treats Madam so well. President Jian has never been this attentive to any other omega.]

[Jian Feng: …?]

Song Ruochen planted the seed and then continued typing.

[Song Ruochen]: After the event concludes successfully, will President Jian’s congratulatory gift be gold or diamonds? Truly enviable.]

[Jian Feng: …Diamonds, I suppose.]
[Jian Feng: I’ll go order them now.]

That’s more like it, Song Ruochen thought as he took a sip of floral tea.

In a marriage with such an unequal status, if Jian Feng didn’t make a bigger show of it, how would others know that Yan Ci was cherished and untouchable?

[Song Ruochen: President Jian, Madam has made great progress. Let me show you.]

He initiated a video call, and the other side quickly picked up.

Song Ruochen adjusted the camera, pointing it toward the commentary booth.

Yan Ci: “Player 1 is changing tactics…”

Commentator A shouted, “Player 1 is sneaking around! They’re pulling off a backstab and wiping out the enemy’s entire clan!”

Yan Ci: “Player 3’s health bar is depleted, bravely making their final stand…”

Commentator B yelled, “Player 3 just blinked into their own grave, hahaha!”

Yan Ci: “…”

Song Ruochen: “Pfft.”

“Where’s the progress?” Jian Feng’s typically serious voice carried a hint of helpless amusement.

“Civility,” Song Ruochen said, making it up on the spot.

On Jian Feng’s side, it seemed he had just arrived at the office. The camera shook slightly as he walked.

“Yuheng?” Song Ruochen heard Jian Feng ask. “The private elevator is here. Are you heading toward the stairs?”

“I like taking the stairs,” Jian Yuheng said.

Song Ruochen: “?”

As expected of a villain.

“The meeting room is on the 30th floor,” Jian Feng reminded.

“I like exercising,” Jian Yuheng replied.

“Alright then.” Jian Feng didn’t understand but respected his choice.

“Already in great shape and still exercising,” Song Ruochen muttered. “You alphas are really competitive.”

“Hanging up now, President Jian,” he said. “Madam’s event is almost over. I’m going to… I mean, I’ll go pour him some tea.”

__

Jian Yuheng had never liked stairs this much.

Stairs were good. Elevators were bad. Stairs were polite—they only made you tired, not trapped.

Fifteen minutes later, Jian Yuheng appeared at the meeting room door. An alpha, with a suit jacket draped over his arm, his white shirt half-soaked with sweat.

He panted a couple of times and accepted the water Assistant Gong handed him.

“Boss,” Gong Huo said, “you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

“How am I pushing myself?” Jian Yuheng asked.

“Parachuting into the company to reclaim everything that’s yours,” Gong Huo replied. “Preparing your physique for a power grab, not even wasting the time spent climbing stairs.”

“Stop reading novels,” Jian Yuheng said.

Xiaoshi Group, an internet media company, was particularly sensitive to online information flows. Monitoring trending topics across major platforms was a daily task for all Xiaoshi employees.

As soon as Jian Yuheng opened the social media platform owned by Xiaoshi, he spotted his sister-in-law’s name trending.

[Yan Ci and His Perfect Secretary]

Jian Yuheng: “?”

Perfect secretary? Song Ruochen?

He clicked on the video under the post—

As always, Song Ruochen was dressed in a white shirt and tie, his pale lips pressed together as he coldly accompanied Yan Ci.

In the video, the omega’s slender, pale fingers grabbed the sleeve of a security guard from the event organizers, pushing him aside to block a charging audience member with precision.

“Don’t be afraid.” Secretary Song’s voice was as cold as the first snow of spring.

“Okay!” Yan Ci, who was about the same height as Song Ruochen, nodded repeatedly.

Perfect secretary… huh?

Jian Yuheng’s fingers tapped the tabletop twice, seemingly without purpose.

He still remembered the dissatisfaction that briefly flashed in the omega’s eyes when he was forced to drive that day and the slightly clenched hand by his side when Jian Yuheng pinched his cheek so hard he nearly lifted him off the ground.

Those vivid moments had been fleeting. The real Secretary Song was a calm, clever, and ruthlessly efficient NPC.

“Assistant Gong,” Jian Yuheng called.

“Here,” Gong Huo responded.

“Is it possible for someone to get caught in the doors of the same elevator twice?” Jian Yuheng asked.

“People? Probably not,” Gong Huo replied seriously. “But an idiot might.”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

__

The gift Jian Feng had urgently ordered arrived at the venue just in time for the event’s conclusion.

Yan Ci held the diamond bracelet, smiling in surprise.

“Secretary Song, I almost thought he didn’t love me anymore,” Yan Ci said. “Last night, when we were walking together, he didn’t even step out with his left foot first.”

Song Ruochen: “…”

The sensitive and fragile protagonist shou of this melodrama was truly something else.

At the event venue, he hitched a ride with Yan Ci back to the company, just in time for dinner.

That evening’s meal consisted of toast and caramel pudding. Song Ruochen carried his tray up to the rooftop, intending to find a comfortable spot in the lounge area to enjoy the sunset while eating.

The sunset was beautiful, but the spot he had his eye on was already taken.

Jian Yuheng was sitting at the table, resting his right hand against his cheek, his gaze fixed on Song Ruochen’s face.

Song Ruochen turned to leave, but after just a couple of steps, he heard a slightly mocking voice behind him: “Secretary Song, come here.”

Song Ruochen froze mid-step, then reluctantly moved over and sat across from Jian Yuheng.

“Second Young Master, do you need something?” Song Ruochen asked.

“I do,” Jian Yuheng said. “The information about me in the employee database is incorrect.”

“What’s incorrect?” Song Ruochen asked.

“My age,” Jian Yuheng replied. “It’s 23, not 24.”

“Oh,” Song Ruochen said without thinking. “Then it’ll be correct next year.”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

“Secretary Song,” Jian Yuheng said, reaching out to grab the omega’s tie. He kneaded and rubbed it between his fingers before giving it a gentle tug, pulling Song Ruochen slightly forward. “You’re the one responsible for maintaining the employee database.”

Song Ruochen, now leaning forward, finally sensed the dangerous aura emanating from the alpha.

“Why are you not taking enough care of your new boss?” Jian Yuheng asked.

‘Me? Again?’ Song Ruochen mentally exclaimed. ‘The company would collapse without me. It’s just me and the villain running the show in this entire book.’

[…]

“Understood,” Song Ruochen said. “I’ll update the information for Second Young Master immediately.”

He grabbed his tray and fled in disarray.

The villain was terrifying. Next time they met, he’d just rewind and escape.

The omega’s hurried footsteps brought Jian Yuheng an inexplicable sense of satisfaction. The city’s evening glow was beautiful, providing a rare moment of relaxation.

Perhaps he’d been too busy since arriving at the company, so much so that he was experiencing hallucinations.

How could the pool have no edges, or the elevator repeatedly trap him? Hahaha.

Bang.

A tennis ball flew through the air and hit Jian Yuheng square on the head.

“Ahh, sorry, Second Young Master!” Gong Huo came running over, half stumbling. “I didn’t realize you were here.”

“It’s fine,” Jian Yuheng said.

Gong Huo left, continuing his game of tennis with his friends.

This assistant, while a bit chatty, was lively—unlike a certain secretary who lacked any human warmth—

Bang.

Jian Yuheng sidestepped just in time to avoid another tennis ball flying through the air.

“Ahh, sorry, Second Young Master! Yay, I missed!” Gong Huo came running over again, half stumbling. “Second Young Master? Why are you swaying?”

“Someone, help!” Gong Huo wailed. “My ball used internal energy to injure Second Young Master!”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

__

Downstairs, in Jian Feng’s office.

Song Ruochen slapped a clipboard onto Jian Feng’s desk.

“President Jian,” Song Ruochen said, “think before you speak.”

Jian Feng: “…?”

Let him think. What he had originally planned to say was, ‘If that’s how you want to think, I can’t help it.’ Now that he considered it, that indeed didn’t sound very good.

“Yan Ci,” Jian Feng began, “that’s not what I meant. I’m not annoyed with you. I just have another meeting to attend shortly.”

“Oh, okay then,” Yan Ci’s voice came through the phone. “I’ll wait for you to come back, then.”

The call ended.

Song Ruochen let out a sigh of relief.

[Rewind Coin Pouch credited: 30 seconds.]

As expected of a melodramatic couple, even the smallest issues could lead to arguments. Fortunately, after rewinding and rephrasing, Yan Ci hadn’t been brought to tears this time.

Secretary Song, truly great—successfully preventing the protagonist couple from ending up in a metaphorical crematorium!

“I’m off work,” Song Ruochen said. “It’s time.”

“Alright,” Jian Feng replied. “Take a break.”

Song Ruochen bolted.

The senior executives, who had been waiting by the door for a long time, entered.

“President Jian,” one of them said, “it’s time to have a talk with Second Young Master. We need to find a way to deal with him.”

“My opinion hasn’t changed,” another said. “His ambition for the company is undeniable, and his hostility toward you is constant.”

“Exactly, President Jian,” a third chimed in. “Mark my words—when he comes in, his first words will definitely be a provocation.”

Jian Feng frowned but said nothing.

At 7:00 PM, the scheduled meeting time arrived, and Jian Yuheng stepped into Jian Feng’s meeting room.

The senior executives hid in Jian Feng’s office, sneakily preparing to eavesdrop on the so-called “arrogant declarations of ambition.”

“Brother,” Jian Yuheng began, his expression serious.

“It’s happening now,” the senior executives thought. “Two tigers cannot share one mountain—these two are about to argue.”

“Hmm,” Jian Feng responded, slightly nervous as he looked at his younger brother.

Such a serious tone—was he about to accuse him of mismanagement or poor leadership?

Jian Feng pricked up his ears.

Jian Yuheng: “Is the company haunted?”

Jian Feng calmly replied, “The company is…”

Jian Feng: “?”

Senior executives: “???”