FOBTS CH6

Behind the hidden door in the president’s office, several senior executives whispered—

“An insider? Stop the negotiations?” one executive asked. “Is he talking about us?”

“How dare that brat!” the second executive exclaimed.

“Calm down,” the third executive said. “Second Young Master isn’t as aggressive as you make him out to be.”

At the desk, Jian Yuheng appeared serious, but internally, he had already checked out for a while.

Jian Feng, fully prepared for potential accusations, had armed himself with nearly a dozen response strategies. Yet Jian Yuheng had managed to pose a question straight out of left field.

Jian Feng sipped his tea to steady himself. “There shouldn’t be…”

“Forget I said anything.” Within seconds, Jian Yuheng had resumed his earlier calm and composed demeanor. “Do you need something from me?”

Jian Feng: “No…”

“Then I’ll head off for the day.” Jian Yuheng turned and left the office without a second thought.

Jian Feng: “?”

“Wait a second,” the first executive said, bewildered. “Wasn’t he the one who called for this meeting?”

“I even prepared a 10,000-word rebuttal,” the second executive said, “practiced it over a dozen times, and perfected my angry expression to counter his arguments. And he just… left?”

“He’s not wrong,” the third executive said. “If you love performing so much, go put on a show instead.”

“Enough,” Jian Feng said, slamming the table. “Stop bickering. Second Young Master’s management style may be swift and decisive, but some of his methods are indeed progressive. Don’t always target him. He and I are both Dad’s sons; this company belongs to him as much as it does to me.”

“Speaking of which,” Jian Feng added, “this weekend’s family dinner needs to be arranged.”

“Secretary Song,” Jian Feng said over the phone, “take care of it.”

__

Secretary Song had no idea how to handle it.

The next day, he picked a restaurant close to home that he liked, drafted an invitation, and prepared to deliver it to Jian Yuheng.

[Should we prepare a few tokens? If Jian Yuheng gets aggressive, we can rewind.]

“No need,” Song Ruochen said. “A mere basic attack and he wants to trade for my ultimate?”

[A~ mere~ basic~ attack~]

“Speak properly,” Song Ruochen said. “Stop showing off with that vibrating tone.”

[How could a system have a vibrating tone? That’s just your trembling producing it.]

Song Ruochen: “…”

No kidding—who wouldn’t be afraid of the villain?

He remembered in the original novel, during a pool party, Secretary Song had offended Jian Yuheng with his words and ended up being grabbed by the neck and shoved into the pool.

“Shoving someone into a pool,” Song Ruochen said. “Classic villain behavior.”

As he chatted with the system, he knocked on Jian Yuheng’s office door.

The door creaked open, but no one was there.

Song Ruochen tilted his head in thought for a few seconds and opened the Xiaoshi Group’s internal app—

Jian Yuheng (On Leave)
Gong Huo (On Leave)
Reason for Leave: Melting Antarctic Glaciers (Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental)

Song Ruochen: “?”

Using his secretary privileges, he pulled up Jian Yuheng’s WeChat profile and sent him a friend request.

The other party seemed busy and didn’t accept the request.

He clicked on Jian Yuheng’s profile page, which displayed his age as 24. Might as well fix that while he was at it.

Back in his own office, Song Ruochen opened the employee database and updated Jian Yuheng’s age. The database was quite detailed, so Song Ruochen skimmed through it a bit more.

Jian Yuheng’s height was a full 193 cm—so tall.

His hobbies included swimming and wood carving.

It’s average.

[What can you do?]

The system asked.

“I can do silly things,” Song Ruochen replied.

He closed Jian Yuheng’s profile and opened his own.

“The time has come to know myself,” Song Ruochen said. “I’m really… as pure as a blank sheet of paper.”

Secretary Song’s profile was empty, with only one line of small text—

Medical check-up information pending upload

[How about taking some time for a check-up?]

The system suggested.

[You might as well check what your pheromone is.]

“Secretary Song,” the internal phone rang. “Please go downstairs to greet the client.”

“Coming,” Song Ruochen replied.

__

In the suburbs, a meditation room.

The monk lit incense, and the room was simple and elegant.

“Calm your mind and focus,” the monk said. “Concentrate on the tips of your fingers, and you will carve the flowers of your heart.”

Jian Yuheng cleaned his hands, surrounded by the calming scent of sandalwood. He picked up a carving knife and began carving flower patterns on the wood in his hands.

Withered wood bloomed, and the fragrance of incense lingered, gradually calming Jian Yuheng’s heart.

“Wood carving, carving wood, and carving the heart,” the monk said.

Ding-dong.

The carving Jian Yuheng had just begun to shape turned back into a piece of wood.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

Jian Yuheng: “…………”

“Focus,” the monk said.

The knife in Jian Yuheng’s hand turned half a circle, and the blade skillfully pressed against the wood.

Wood shavings fell softly, and the withered wood bloomed once more.

Ding-dong.

Jian Yuheng: “:)”

The monk sipped his tea. “Focus.”

“Slow your heart and steady your hand; only then can the wood…” The monk spat out his tea. “Hey, disciple, are you sharpening a pencil?”

__

At Xiaoshi Group, Song Ruochen politely raised his hand and invited the main character, Jian Feng, into the meeting room.

“Mr. Jian,” Song Ruochen said, “the client is waiting for you.”

“Alright,” Jian Feng said, “Good job, Secretary Song.”

“Too kind,” Song Ruochen said. “Just add 20,000 to my salary; no need for anything more.”

Jian Feng: “?”

Outside the meeting room, employees praised him endlessly.

“A textbook-like reception,” one employee said. “Secretary Song did a great job.”

“Not at all,” Song Ruochen said.

[Indeed, not at all.]

[One wrong client meeting, one incident of showcasing tea art and knocking the teacup on the client’s head.]

[Luckily, I’m here to save Secretary Song’s reputation.]

“Panghu” Song Ruochen asked, “how many rewind tokens do we have left?”

[30 seconds left.]

The main character couple hadn’t crossed paths for the past couple of days due to their respective work schedules, so their relationship value had remained unchanged, and Song Ruochen hadn’t earned any credits.

“Better save them,” Song Ruochen said. “I’m going to refrain from rewinding for a day.”

__

In the suburbs, Jian Yuheng walked out of the meditation room, holding a wooden stick.

“Congratulations, boss,” Gong Huo, who was drinking tea in the yard, greeted him. “You’ve carved another… abstract piece.”

Jian Yuheng’s lips curled slightly as he weighed the wooden stick in his hand before tossing it into the air.

Gong Huo caught the stick and turned to look. Jian Yuheng was already heading toward the parking lot.

Gong Huo glanced at the wooden stick in his hand, then at the car.

Alright then, let’s find a box, pack it up, and send it to the Second Young Master’s house as a decoration.

The car sped away, kicking up a cloud of dust. Jian Yuheng’s gaze was distant, looking out the car window.

“I’m going to take two more days off,” Jian Yuheng said, stroking the watch face on his left wrist.

Rather than passively accepting things, he decided to take the initiative and observe what was really going on.

__

“To keep an eagle awake, is to make it stay awake in a cruel way.”

On the living room TV, an episode of Animal World was playing.

Song Ruochen, holding his phone, was picking up a medical checkup package. The ABO world’s check-up options were quite complicated, and he didn’t fully understand them. Worried about missing something, he decided to ask Yan Ci.

[Song Ruochen: 0.o, Madam, take a look, which one is better?]

[Yan Ci: o.0, Package 1 or Package 5, I think both are good. You get an extra compatibility test with them.]

[Song Ruochen: Then Package 5, it includes breakfast.]

Song Ruochen quickly placed the order for the check-up package, scheduling it for the day after tomorrow.

[Song Ruochen: Aren’t you sleeping, Madam?]

[Yan Ci: I was scolded by my brother. He came into my live stream and yelled at me.]

[Song Ruochen: Scold him back.]

[Yan Ci: Good words create good connections.]

[Song Ruochen: Bad words are so satisfying.]

[Song Ruochen: Go to sleep, Madam. I’m going to sleep too.]

“The eagle stayed awake all night and never closed its eyes during the day…” the TV continued.

Song Ruochen quickly turned off the TV and went straight to sleep.

__

A day later, a car stopped at the city center hospital, its logo drawing the attention of countless passersby.

The assistant opened the car door, and Jian Yuheng, dressed in a suit, stepped out. He adjusted his tie and exuded a low-key but intense aura.

The alpha’s cold, stern gaze startled the receptionist.

“Excuse me, may I check? Your appointment is for… the psychology department?”

“Yes,” Jian Yuheng replied briefly, having not slept all night.

“Third floor, turn right,” the receptionist said. “It’s next to the check-up center.”

On the third floor, near the stairs, Song Ruochen was holding his check-up report while chatting with the system.

“I’m grape-flavored,” he said. “Not bad.”

Yan Ci was red date-flavored, and the main character, Jian Feng, was barley-flavored.

‘System,’ he asked, ‘what flavor do you think Jian Yuheng is? It doesn’t seem to be mentioned in the book.’

The window in the hallway was open, and a gust of wind blew, causing his check-up report to fly out of his hands.

“Hey!” Song Ruochen darted down, “Give it back to me!”

He crashed into a solid chest, nearly dizzy from the impact.

“Sorry,” he said.

“You’re holding on pretty tightly,” the other person mocked.

This voice? Song Ruochen stepped back.

How could the villain be here?

Jian Yuheng was holding his check-up report, his gaze lightly brushing past Song Ruochen’s cheek.

“Please give it back to me,” Song Ruochen said.

“Secretary Song,” Jian Yuheng withdrew his gaze from the report, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Your body fat percentage is too low.”

“None of your business.” Song Ruochen raised his hand and snatched the report away.

Jian Yuheng’s bad mood, which had been lingering all day, suddenly disappeared. He stared at the panicked Omega leaving in a hurry, and the heavy atmosphere around him lightened a little.

Feeling refreshed, Jian Yuheng walked into the psychologist’s office.

“Mr. Jian, hello,” the doctor said. “What seems to be the problem?”

The things Jian Yuheng had encountered recently were indeed a bit absurd, and he hesitated for a moment.

“It’s nothing, Mr. Jian,” the doctor said. “You don’t have to feel embarrassed. I’m here to listen.”

Outside the hospital, at the bus stop.

A bus was starting to pull away.

“Stop, stop right there!” Song Ruochen chased after it.

The bus sped off, releasing a cloud of exhaust.

Song Ruochen was panting like a dog.

“Run, huh? I’ll make you run,” Song Ruochen said. “Rewind 15 seconds! Lower your noble head!”

In the doctor’s office, Jian Yuheng hesitated but quickly blurted out his ridiculous “encounter.”

There, he said it, and it felt good. Jian Yuheng let out a sigh of relief.

“Mr. Jian,” the doctor smiled. “Hello, what seems to be the problem?”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

Jian Yuheng: “…………”