FOBTS CH16

Song Ruochen rubbed his reddened hand blankly and reached again for the glass of wine in front of him.

Smack!

Jian Yuheng slapped his hand again.

“You mother—” Song Ruochen shot up from his seat, slamming the table. “Wanna fight?!”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

Yan Fen’s hand trembled, spilling a glass of wine.

Jian Feng snapped his chopsticks with a crack.

Song Ruochen: “Damn it…”

Ding.

Time rewound by one second.

He had just spent 1,000 yuan to retract a single “mother.”

The back of his hand, slapped twice by Jian Yuheng, now bore a visible handprint on his pale skin.

“If Second Young Master is fully functional and wants to clap, you can clap your own hands,” Secretary Song said coldly yet politely.

He almost broke character again. Being a secretary was tough.

This villain had started rebelling today—why did he keep hitting him?!

Song Ruochen sulkily sat upright, maintaining his flawless secretary image, while watching Assistant Gong drink with gusto.

Jian Yuheng was struggling not to laugh.

Indeed, if you live long enough, you’ll see everything. Today, he witnessed someone paying to curse.

The omega lowered his head slightly, his eyelids drooping, lips tightly pressed together, as if calculating the cost of a string of expletives.

[Calm down, Host.]

The system tried to mediate.

[We’re out of rewind coins. Spending thousands to curse is way too extravagant.]

“Can I rewind by 0.5 seconds?” Song Ruochen asked. “I want to curse for 500 yuan.”

[…]

There was a slight sound of movement. Song Ruochen raised his head.

A small wine glass slid toward him, pushed by Jian Yuheng. At the bottom was a tiny splash of wine.

“Would you like to toast me, Secretary Song?” Jian Yuheng asked.

Reluctantly, Song Ruochen picked up the glass and lightly clinked it against Jian Yuheng’s.

Delicious. Loved it. Enjoyed it.

He sipped the wine, savoring the aroma that lingered in his mouth.

On the other side, Yan Fen felt like he was about to die.

Secretary Song was just a cold, robotic secretary—so why was Second Young Master even helping him fend off drinks?!

This toast was leading him further and further from his goal.

It was over. He hadn’t won over the second young master, hadn’t managed to get the first young master drunk, and now he could only rely on the two young celebrities to try to charm Jian Feng.

But those two stars, while talented, couldn’t compete with the stunningly beautiful Secretary Song sitting at the table.

“President Jian,” Yan Fen finally spoke up, “it’s getting late. You should rest early. We can discuss the branch office’s projects in detail tomorrow.”

“That works,” Jian Feng replied.

Missed wine could be made up for with food. Song Ruochen quickly adjusted his mindset and focused on eating.

Everyone at the table stared wide-eyed as Assistant Gong boldly drank, while Song Ruochen seized the opportunity to start turning the lazy Susan.

Jian Yuheng spaced out for a moment, only to find the table spinning.

Song Ruochen grabbed some grilled fish, a crab, and even a decorative flower.

The omega studied the flower for a while, realized it wasn’t edible, and discarded it.

A waiter knocked and entered, delivering a new dish: round, glutinous rice balls.

Song Ruochen locked onto his target and spun the table again.

The corners of Jian Yuheng’s lips twitched as he placed his fingers on the table and subtly turned it, pushing the rice balls further away.

Song Ruochen: “?”

After waiting for Jian Yuheng to finish serving himself, Song Ruochen made another attempt to reach the rice balls.

Jian Yuheng’s hand moved again, as if unintentionally, serving a distant dish and sending the rice balls even further away.

“…?” Song Ruochen was puzzled.

This time, he stayed quiet for a while, waiting for Jian Yuheng to be distracted while talking to Jian Feng, before stretching his hand toward the table.

Ten centimeters, five centimeters, three centimeters, one centimeter—the rice balls were almost his!

Jian Yuheng reached out and spun the table again, pushing the rice balls far away.

“You really are the second young master,” Song Ruochen exploded. “Are those rice balls your kin? If you love spinning so much, why not be a mill donkey in your next life—”

Song Ruochen: “…Sob.”

Ding.

[5,000 yuan deducted.]

Song Ruochen gave up.

Forget it. Cursing was too expensive.

And after cursing, the other party wouldn’t even remember—only he could savor the momentary satisfaction.

“President Yan, President Yan, are you okay?” Panic erupted on the other side of the table.

President Yan stared blankly, utterly defeated by the drinking.

“Mission accomplished,” Assistant Gong said with a smile. “Second Young Master, in a good mood tonight?”

Jian Yuheng was indeed in high spirits. After being tormented by rewinds for so long, he finally felt like he had the upper hand today.

He enjoyed putting people in their place.

Secretary Song was quite amusing. Even with a rewind system, he was full of flaws.

“Not bad,” Jian Yuheng replied.

Having drunk their fill and exhausted their plans, the dinner concluded with a few polite exchanges before both sides parted ways.

“President Jian,” Song Ruochen stood up, “I’ll escort you back to the hotel.”

“No need, Secretary Song,” Jian Feng said. “You should rest.”

“This journey is fraught with danger,” Song Ruochen insisted.

Jian Feng: “It’s only twenty meters to the hotel…”

Determined to go alone, Jian Feng stood his ground.

“Alright then,” Song Ruochen said. “For your safety, please take this.”

Jian Feng: “?”

Song Ruochen handed him an opaque file folder. “Make sure to open it only in your room.”

Puzzled, Jian Feng tucked the folder away.

Song Ruochen slipped out first, realizing he was running low on medication to suppress his genetic condition and needing to buy more at the pharmacy downstairs.

In the private room, Jian Feng looked up at Jian Yuheng.

“The branch office has some major issues,” Jian Feng said first. “Let’s find a quiet place to talk?”

“Sure,” Jian Yuheng agreed.

Perhaps the drinking game had fostered camaraderie. Jian Yuheng felt that his brother’s attitude toward him was less guarded than before.

“There’s a quiet café across the street where no one will disturb us,” Jian Yuheng said. “Let’s go there.”

“I’ll follow your lead,” Jian Feng replied.

*

At the pharmacy downstairs, Song Ruochen strolled out with his newly purchased medicine, still hearing the pharmacist’s reminders in his ears.

“For type G3 genetic disorders, there will be recurring major outbreaks around the age of 20. Alpha pheromone soothing is highly necessary,” the doctor said. “Make sure to communicate with your alpha.”

“Got it,” Song Ruochen replied.

“A typical alpha won’t suffice,” the doctor added. “You’ll need an alpha with exceptionally strong pheromones and physical endurance.”

“Understood,” Song Ruochen said again.

He recalled that in the original novel, this genetic disorder was merely a plot device. The original Secretary Song didn’t address it and was perfectly fine, so he figured he didn’t need to worry either.

Judging by the timing, those two omegas should have snuck into the protagonist’s room by now, right? And Assistant Yan’s cameras should be ready?

Dates and barley—don’t be afraid. Love’s security guard is here.

Song Ruochen took out his phone.

*

Across the street in the quiet café, the environment was peaceful and comfortable.

Jian Yuheng and Jian Feng sat by the window, discussing matters in low voices.

“As expected, you’ve noticed the problems too,” Jian Feng said, his voice low.

“Yes, my suggestion is to handle what needs handling without dwelling on old ties,” Jian Yuheng replied. “As for the collaborative project, we’ll negotiate it ourselves.”

After a few exchanges, the two brothers gained a better understanding of each other. Even the typically aloof Jian Yuheng felt a faint sense of brotherly connection.

“Brother,” Jian Yuheng began.

[Stay back! I’m Yan Ci’s husband!]

[I, Jian Feng, have loved only Yan Ci in this lifetime!]

Two voices suddenly rang out in the air.

Jian Yuheng: “?”

Jian Feng: “……”

Everyone in the café turned their heads sharply.

In a fluster, Jian Feng opened the file bag Song Secretary had given him. Inside were more than ten phones.

He fumbled to pick out one and cut off a call, but another phone immediately started ringing.

[I, Jian Feng, am utterly devoted to Yan Ci!]

The AI-generated voice, with a chanting rhythm, grew louder and louder.

People in the café began pulling out their phones to record this precious moment.

[Every day after marrying Yan Ci has been blissful!]

[Love is hard to express, but Jian Feng and Yan Ci’s bond is unbreakable!]

Jian Yuheng took a big step back.

“Brother…” Jian Feng, unable to turn off the phones, looked up for help.

Jian Yuheng was already twenty meters away, sipping his coffee.

“This guy is hilarious,” someone remarked.

“He really is,” Jian Yuheng chimed in.

*

Carrying his medicine, Song Ruochen leisurely returned to the hotel, receiving a system notification along the way.

[20 minutes credited to your rewind coin pouch.]

“Wow, that’s lucrative,” Song Ruochen said. “Chasing off two omegas turned out to be this profitable.”

“Honestly, I didn’t even do much,” he modestly added. “I just helped President Jian open up a little.”

[Daily rewind limit increased to 10 times.]

Song Ruochen was thrilled.

The first thing to do after payday? Indulge a little, of course.

“The day’s almost over. I want to have some fun,” Song Ruochen said.

[Go for it!]

[Splurge a bit!]

*

In the next room, Jian Yuheng had just taken a shower and changed into his pajamas.

Standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, he lingered for a while, his lips curving into a smile now and then.

Today had been a good day, filled with amusing moments.

For instance, making Song Ruochen pay multiple times just to curse.

Or the fact that Song Secretary wasn’t the only one subjected to his antics.

Feeling tired, Jian Yuheng decided it was time to sleep. Maybe in the future, he could tease the little secretary some more.

He removed his pajamas, lay flat on the bed, and closed his eyes, sleepiness overtaking him.

Ding.

Jian Yuheng found himself standing back at the floor-to-ceiling window, still in his pajamas.

Jian Yuheng: “?”

He stood there for a moment, chuckled, and shook his head before returning to bed to lie down again.

Ding.

Jian Yuheng was back at the window.

Jian Yuheng: “……”

He waited five minutes before cautiously approaching the bed again.

So tired. Just wanted to sleep.

Ding.

By now, Jian Yuheng couldn’t get near the bed.

Drawing on his vast experience, he waited another half hour before attempting to get close to the bed again.

So sleepy. Must sleep.

Ding, ding, ding.

At two in the morning, Jian Yuheng stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, still in his pajamas, coldly gazing down at his kingdom.