FOBTS CH12

“Ungrateful child,” the voice on the phone said. “You’ve grown wings and can’t even bear a word of your mother’s concern anymore.”

The ungrateful child was at a loss for words: “…”

Damn, how could that be just one word?

No matter how heartwarming the concern, hearing it four times in a row was a bit much.

What started as a gentle spring breeze had turned into a plunge into an icy abyss.

“You even want to hit an omega?” his mother asked.

Not only was Jian Yuheng unfazed, but he also made a bold statement: “What’s so great about omegas? Your son was born to climb higher, not to spend his days circling around some delicate omega.”

He indulged in a moment of verbal satisfaction, calmly waiting for Secretary Song to return the prize.

Because he calculated that this zero-cost grand prize was something Secretary Song definitely wouldn’t want.

Jian Yuheng sat there with an air of calculated confidence, waiting with certainty.

One minute later—

Jian Yuheng almost broke his finger from gripping it too hard.

“Not pretending anymore, huh? So this is what you think? Did I give you too much face? Or did studying abroad give you courage?” His mom said. “Your wings have grown, your mouth has toughened, and now you’re ready to go against the world and challenge the ABO biological mechanism.”

His mom continued, “During your susceptibility period, are you planning to marry a truckload of inhibitors and bow to each other as a couple?”

Jian Yuheng (san -10)San means sanity value: “Mom, I…”

His mom: “While others have warm homes full of lights, you’ll be guarding a pharmacy alone?”

Jian Yuheng (san -20): “M…”

“You’ve escaped these past few years while abroad,” his mom said. “Tomorrow, go get a compatibility test done! The database will recommend a suitable omega for you.”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

With a heart as dead as ashes, Jian Yuheng said, “Okay, okay, Mom, I was wrong. Mom, I’m hanging up now.”

If he didn’t hang up, someone was going to hang.

And as for that prize, Secretary Song really wasn’t returning it, huh? Why not return it?!

What, does he actually like the grand prize and want one-on-one training?

__

[Luck doesn’t save the unlucky.]

[Spending doesn’t change fate.]

The system chimed in.

[Yet people refuse to believe it, always thinking they’re the exception.]

[When they win a first-prize smartphone, they should just stop.]

“Shut up, system grandson,” Song Ruochen said.

[Current rewind coin pouch balance: 1 second.]
[Daily usage limit for the rewind coin pouch has been increased to 6 times.]

“Only 1 second left,” Song Ruochen said regretfully. “No more fooling around today.”

[So you do know you’ve been fooling around.]

Song Ruochen held his grand prize voucher, elegantly nodded at the year-end party host, and smiled as he returned to his seat, sitting down calmly.

“Secretary Song really won a big prize,” Jian Yuheng mocked. “Happy?”

“Unmoved by material gain, undisturbed by personal loss,” Song Ruochen said with a calm face.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

Ten seconds later, Song Ruochen turned back and winked at the employees in the back row.

“Recycling old prizes. Anyone want to trade a glass cup for Jian Yuheng?” Song Ruochen asked. “Bro, trade?”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

The employee sitting directly behind him was an alpha who had never spoken to the cold and beautiful omega secretary before.

This secretary, usually as cold as a precision machine, was now actively talking to someone.

The alpha employee was somewhat flattered. “Just one? I have plenty of unwanted glass cups at home.”

“Secretary Song,” the grand prize recipient said, glancing at the back row before raising his voice, “Year-end party prizes are not allowed to be exchanged.”

“Not allowed to trade? Then can I sell it?” Song Ruochen raised his voice. “Two hundred and fifty-one yuan, grand prize on sale, slightly negotiable.”

Yan Ci: “…”

“Secretary Song,” Jian Yuheng said, “come to my office after the party.”

Song Ruochen: “Retaliation?”

“Of course not,” Jian Yuheng said. “To redeem your prize.”

What prize? Exclusive professional skills training?

“Only if it’s online,” Song Ruochen said.

“Secretary Song,” Jian Feng coughed lightly, “you do need to visit Yuheng’s office later to prepare materials for a business trip.”

Song Ruochen: “?”

A business trip?

His smooth brain began spinning rapidly, digging through the mountain of melodrama in the original book to find the few existing plot points.

There really was such a segment.

In the original book, after this year-end party, the protagonist gong took his secretary on a two-week business trip with the antagonist.

During the trip, the protagonist gong encountered various incidents, and due to his poor communication skills, a heap of misunderstandings arose between him and Yan Ci.

[When Jian Feng returned from the business trip, the two had a huge fight. Yan Ci dragged his suitcase and left home. A week later, Secretary Song flew a helicopter to find him, descending from the sky to Yan Ci’s hometown.]

[“Madam, Jian Feng is waiting for you to come home,” Secretary Song said calmly. “You don’t need to run anymore. Even if I have to search every inch of the earth, I’ll find you for him.”]

Song Ruochen: “…”

Stop.

What nonsense is this?

[Helicopter.]

“Just because it’s in English doesn’t mean I can fly it,” Song Ruochen thought.

First, he could only operate a smartphone, not a helicopter.

Second, the original protagonist was incredibly good at running. The locations where Secretary Song (original version) found him were often deep mountains, snowy plains, isolated islands, and rainforests. The knockoff Secretary Song had no chance of finding him.

If the protagonist shoou ran off, he might as well be lost forever.

Song Ruochen took a deep breath.

No, he couldn’t lose this job, and he couldn’t lose these two money-making machines either. On this business trip, he had to keep Yan Ci’s main character tightly tied down, preventing any trouble and solving the problem at its root.

The lively year-end party gradually came to an end as company leaders and employees left one after another.

Song Ruochen got up and followed Jian Yuheng out of the venue.

“Secretary Chenchen,” Yan Ci, dressed like a white Christmas tree, came running.

Song Ruochen: “Madam…”

Forget it, without him around, Yan Ci didn’t seem to need to be careful.

Yan Ci breezed over like the wind and handed a large paper bag into Song Ruochen’s arms.

Song Ruochen: “What’s this?”

“New outfits!” Yan Ci said. “You seem to look good in white, so I bought a few more for you to wear on your trip.”

“I have a livestream to do, so I’m leaving with my husband now.” Yan Ci waved. “See you after your trip.”

“Promise it,” Song Ruochen said.

Yan Ci: “?”

Yan Ci: “Promise, see you.”

Song Ruochen left peacefully.

The year-end party was on the first floor, and Jian Yuheng’s office was on the tenth. Song Ruochen walked ahead by half a step, habitually pressing the elevator button for his superior.

“Second Young Master, please,” Song Ruochen said.

Jian Yuheng, who hadn’t taken the elevator in half a month, paused for a moment before stepping in with pleasure.

So, taking the elevator to the tenth floor was this fast.

For the first time, he clearly felt how technology could change lives.

His phone vibrated—it was a message from Assistant Gong.

[Assistant Gong]: Gold always shines. Tonight’s annual party drew attention to Second Young Master’s excellence.

[Assistant Gong]: Pushed an article: [How Outstanding Is Jian Yuheng, Who Descended Upon Xiaoshi Group?]

[Assistant Gong]: I’ve clipped a bit for you: “Writing poetry at three, painting at four, entering a top university at sixteen, studying abroad at twenty—Jian Yuheng’s life is like a cheat code.”

[Assistant Gong]: This comment is so funny, haha: “Jian Yuheng must have a system.”

[Assistant Gong]: Do you not want to laugh, Second Young Master?

Jian Yuheng: “?”

A system?

A lightbulb lit up over Jian Yuheng’s head.

Could Song Grape’s ability to rewind time come from some system?

But for some reason, the system’s functionality seemed to be shared with him when it was in effect?

Moreover, the system’s functionality must have limitations, restricting the time that could be rewound and… the number of uses?

So, Song Ruochen reluctantly accepted the zero-cost grand prize because the system couldn’t be used again today?

That meant the current Secretary Song was harmless and innocent?

“Second Young Master.” At the end of the hallway, in front of a wall, Song Ruochen stopped. “Is your office in the wall?”

A nine-and-three-quarters office?

Jian Yuheng: “…”

They’d walked too far.

Usually, Assistant Gong opened the door and guided him in advance.

“Follow me,” Jian Yuheng said.

Song Ruochen stifled a yawn and followed Jian Yuheng into the office.

“Regarding this business trip, I have several documents here that need to be organized,” Jian Yuheng said.

Secretary Song, dressed in a white shirt, stood under the light. His black bangs hung over his forehead, making him look less aloof than usual, with a hint of drowsy confusion.

Jian Yuheng added, “Since Gong Huo and I parachuted in together, we’re not familiar with Xiaoshi’s staff. It’ll have to be you, Secretary Song.”

Song Ruochen: “…”

Me?

I’m just a lowly reader.

He sat at Jian Yuheng’s desk and opened his laptop.

The screen lit up, showing a desktop wallpaper of a cartoon worker wielding a kitchen knife.

“Second Young Master.” Song Ruochen smiled politely. “Please transfer the files you need me to handle.”

‘System Secretary, time to work,’ Song Ruochen summoned.

[I’ve found the original text. See if there’s anything you can copy.]

The sound of rapid typing filled the room. Jian Yuheng’s gaze landed on the omega’s fair fingers for a moment before shifting to the computer screen.

“…Jian Yujie? Who’s that?” Jian Yuheng tapped the screen. “I’m Jian Yuheng.”

Song Ruochen: “Aaaaahhh.”

When reading the novel, he hadn’t paid much attention and often skimmed past the name as “Jie.” Now that he was here, he called him “Second Young Master” every day, and whenever he heard the protagonist calling Jian Yuheng, he had to think for a moment.

And now, typing and copying files, he’d forgotten again.

Jian Yuheng was speechless for two seconds, torn between laughing and getting angry. Then he noticed Secretary Song sitting properly at his desk, using his chair, while he stood on the side.

“Secretary Song,” Jian Yuheng raised his voice, “is this how you usually work? No sense of initiative?”

Song Ruochen: “?”

I am working, aren’t I?

“Go make me some tea,” Jian Yuheng said. “Warm water, white tea.”

“Understood.” Song Ruochen left.

Jian Yuheng settled comfortably back into his “dragon chair,” tapping away at Secretary Song’s keyboard and tweaking a few phrases.

Noticing Secretary Song still hadn’t returned, he made a few more edits.

The office door opened, and Song Ruochen walked in, holding a tea cup. Instantly, the room was filled with the fragrance of white tea.

It was quite enjoyable to have a pretty little secretary make tea.

“Bring it over,” Jian Yuheng said.

“Yes.” Secretary Song walked over carefully.

The tea was filled a bit too high, so he treaded cautiously, afraid of spilling it on Second Young Master’s precious carpet.

What was the etiquette for serving tea again? Song Ruochen tried to recall.

What gesture should he use to serve tea to a guest?

“Second Young Master, please…” Song Ruochen leaned forward.

At the same moment, Jian Yuheng raised his hand. “What are you thinking? Just give—”

Splash! The warm tea spilled onto Jian Yuheng’s pants.

Jian Yuheng: “Hiss—”

Song Ruochen: “!!!”

It was over. Tea etiquette fail, second attempt.

Rewind, rewind, rewind.

[Command received.]

[Rewind coin pouch balance: 1 second remaining. Rewinding 1 second.]

Song Ruochen: “…Ah, ah—”

Ding-dong.

Splash.

Jian Yuheng: “Hiss!”