FOBTS CH25.2

Considering everyone was hungry, Jian Feng drove quickly after the group gathered, soon arriving at the private dining restaurant Yan Ci had mentioned.

The restaurant had a beautiful dining environment, with a courtyard outside featuring a small bridge over flowing water under the moonlight.

The evening breeze lifted his black hair slightly, and Song Ruochen felt rather atmospheric at that moment.

“Raising a toast to the moon,” he mused, inspired by the scenery. “This place is so beautiful. Let’s try setting a save point here.”

[Save Point 2 set.]

“Can I set another one later?” Song Ruochen asked.

[Yes, but Save Point 1 will need to be overwritten.]

“Huh? Have we already set Save Point 1?” Song Ruochen asked. “Where is it?”

“Ruochen, I got a pentakill!” Yan Ci called out. “Come here, quick!”

“Coming!” Song Ruochen hurried over to watch the action. “Amazing, madam.”

Yan Ci had already finished, with teammates showering him with praise.

Under the eaves, while waiting for food, Jian Yuheng and Jian Feng stood side by side, chatting—

“It’s been a long time since we’ve gathered like this,” Jian Feng said. “Ever since you went abroad for school, we rarely saw each other. It’s a rare and beautiful evening.”

Recently, he had been feeling more at peace, even getting along calmly with his once-rebellious younger brother.

And his brother’s temper seemed to have improved a lot?

“Yeah,” Jian Yuheng said. “This place is nice, quiet, and comfortable. Dining here feels like one of life’s rare, beautiful moments.”

“Secretary Song, do you have any beautiful moments in life?” Yan Ci asked. “The kind you’d want to relive?”

“I do,” Song Ruochen replied.

Standing on that little bridge just now felt delightful, and I can even go back.

Go back, take a quick run, and catch Dazuo’s pentakill in the game.

“Load save point,” Song Ruochen said. “I’m going to relive my beautiful moment.”

Ding.

As Jian Yuheng was basking in the brotherly moment, he turned around in shock as the surroundings shifted dramatically.

In the golf course lounge, Song Ruochen stood bewildered, staring at the freshly showered alpha across from him, wrapped in nothing but a towel.

[Oops, Little Grape, incorrect command. No specified save point.]

[Reverted to Save Point 1. Apologies~]

Song Ruochen: “Hiss…”

Freshly showered Jian Yuheng: “…”

He glanced at his chest and abs and the white towel around his waist.

So.

Your so-called beautiful moment in life—is this? Huh?

Does it look good?

Do you like it?

Still looking?!

*

[New feature, needs more practice to master.]

[Not a loss though; got to admire the villain’s great physique.]

[Eyes shifting, whistling.jpg]

Song Ruochen: “…”

It’s fine. It’s fine.

After all, Jian Yuheng didn’t know he’d watched the hawthorn tattoo from the bath twice.

Life is about pleasing oneself. Spending some rewind coins to admire an alpha’s good figure—what’s wrong with that?

Jian Yuheng even slowed down dressing. This time, Song Ruochen didn’t turn around; he just stood there in a daze.

What’s this? A 100% attraction finally triggered?

Unlikely.

Surely Song Ruochen wouldn’t spend a lot of credits to roll back just to relive this scene…right?

“I’m so hungry, System,” Song Ruochen said. “I was so close to eating just now.”

Song Ruochen: “Can we return to Save Point 2?”

[You can’t jump directly. We’re a rewind system, only reverse gears allowed.]

[But we have a fast-forward feature to quickly reach Save Point 2.]

“Ten times speed,” Song Ruochen said.

Jian Yuheng zipped up his clothes, stepped outside, and watched the sun plummet into the horizon.

Then his brother flashed over, saying in a blur: “Car…dinner…”

Before long, Jian Yuheng was back under the private restaurant’s eaves.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

So fast—other than the bath scene, nothing else is worth seeing?

Song Ruochen swayed slightly, almost losing his balance.

[@.@]

[Dizzy enough to crash. Please don’t do that again…yikes.]

Song Ruochen was similarly unsteady, stumbling into Yan Ci’s arms, who caught him.

“Stop chatting and serve the food already,” Yan Ci said. “Secretary Song is starving.”

Finally, the dishes arrived, and Song Ruochen began devouring them wholeheartedly.

Jian Yuheng ate slowly, occasionally chatting with Jian Feng about work—

“So much work lately,” Jian Feng sighed.

Jian Yuheng: “Sorry…”

“What are you sorry for?” Jian Feng asked, puzzled. “It’s not your fault.”

“Dad always said the company is yours too,” Jian Feng added. “You’re my brother; you don’t need to be so humble.”

Jian Yuheng gave a guilty “hmm,” shifting his gaze to the black-market intermediary beside him.

The intermediary was grinning at a grilled shrimp, completely free of work vibes, exuding the glow of someone well-rested, looking even better than before.

Beautiful, undeniably, but also undeniably eccentric.

Who knows what’s in that little head of his, always so full of mischief?

Yan Ci, mid-bite from Jian Feng’s feeding, glanced up and noticed Jian Yuheng staring at Song Ruochen—staring for quite a while.

Yan Ci: “Wow?”

As if discovering something groundbreaking.

After two minutes of staring without enlightenment, Jian Yuheng gave up and turned back, only to find his sister-in-law smiling encouragingly at him: “Good luck, little brother.”

Jian Yuheng: “?”

I’m not—I didn’t.

Song Ruochen had just finished eating when he received a message from Meng Yumian—

[Meng Yumian]: Secretary Song, I’ve created another masterpiece.

[Song Ruochen]: Congratulations.

[Meng Yumian]: By the way, Secretary Song, I’ve taken leave for the triathlon training in two days. I’m attending a ball in City A instead.

Song Ruochen: “?”

A ball?

The original plot is back, huh?

At this ball, Meng Yumian was schemed against and drugged, worsening his already frail health. Late at night, Jian Feng drove over to rescue him and took care of him in the hospital for a week.

Yan Ci, furious, stormed off to the snowy mountains, leaving Secretary Song to haul oxygen tanks and trekking poles, step by step, across the ice fields.

Song Ruochen: “…”

This time, it’s a Snow Mountain Jujube.

[According to the original story, the drugging was due to jealousy over Young Master Meng’s talent, aiming to humiliate him at the ball.]

[So the mission this time is: accompany Young Master Meng to the ball and promptly identify problematic food and malicious individuals.]

[Song Ruochen]: Balls aren’t safe, Young Master Meng. I’ll accompany you.

[Meng Yumian]: Fine, with Secretary Song handling it, I feel reassured.

“What are you thinking, Secretary Song?” Yan Ci shook him playfully. “Done eating? I’ll take you home.”

“Rest assured, Madam,” Song Ruochen snapped back to reality. “I won’t let you leave home.”

*

Two days later.

Jian Yuheng saved his work log, shut down his computer, and ran into a spirited Jian Feng in the downstairs employee lounge.

“Brother,” Jian Feng said, “harmony at home brings prosperity. Do you feel it?”

Jian Yuheng: “Maybe?”

Jian Feng: “Ever since you agreed to eat out with me, I feel like my workload has lightened.”

Jian Yuheng: “Haha.”

It has nothing to do with harmony; he simply stopped tormenting Song Ruochen, and Song Ruochen stopped tormenting everyone else.

“I’ll swing by home later,” Jian Yuheng said. “Anything you need me to bring?”

“Bring some snacks for Mom and Dad,” Jian Feng said.

Assistant Gong drove toward the Jian family residence. Jian Yuheng was about to close his eyes for a nap when his long-silent phone suddenly buzzed with a loud “woof.”

What’s the adopted son up to?

[Corporate Slave]: Your humble servant greets the emperor.

[Corporate Slave]: Long live the emperor.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

[Boss]: What’s the matter?

Didn’t he leave no work behind?

[Corporate Slave]: Boss, what’s the usual process for high-society balls?

Jian Yuheng’s eyelids lifted slightly. What, Song Ruochen is attending a ball? He didn’t recall any such item on Jian Feng’s schedule.

Who’s the little secretary planning to dance with? Has he finished today’s tasks? Still has time to play?

Suppressing an inexplicable irritation in his heart, Jian Yuheng replied in detail—

[Boss]: Enter, dance, leave.

[Corporate Slave]: Boss’s words indeed have a leader’s aura. Listening to you is enlightening.

[Corporate Slave]: Father Emperor, is there a dress code for the ball? What should I wear to stay safe?

[Boss]: The more you wear, the safer you’ll be.

[Corporate Slave]: Thank you, Father Emperor. Your son takes his leave.

[Boss]: Don’t drink unidentified alcohol.

Jian Yuheng frowned slightly, catching a subtle trace of unease. Balls are mostly social occasions. Who exactly is Song Ruochen hoping to meet?

“Second Young Master, we’ve arrived,” Assistant Gong reminded.

Jian Yuheng placed two boxes of tea pastries on the table. His mother was in the garden, busy trimming flower branches.

“There’s a charity ball on the west side of the city tonight,” his mother said. “You can attend in my place.”

“A ball?” Jian Yuheng raised his eyes.

His mother added, “If you don’t want to, I’ll let Gong…”

“I’ll go and take a look,” Jian Yuheng replied.

*

At 8 PM, the ball began as scheduled on the west side of the city.

Song Ruochen pushed Meng Yumian, who was dressed in a full green ghillie suit, slowly into the venue, immediately drawing everyone’s attention.

“Secretary Song, do I really have to wear this?” Meng Yumian squirmed in his seat.

“Young Master, this is today’s security plan: ‘Survival Tactics,’” Song Ruochen replied, wearing a white shirt and black gloves. “I’ll ensure you get through tonight safely.”

Meng Yumian felt like his dignity was anything but safe.

“Then… shall we grab something to eat first?” Meng Yumian suggested. “I feel a bit hungry.”

“Of course, Young Master.” Song Ruochen pulled out a pack of compressed biscuits. “I’ve prepared sufficient rations for you. You won’t go hungry or thirsty.”

Breaking off a dry piece of biscuit, he handed it to Meng Yumian. “Plenty more where that came from.”

Meng Yumian: “…”

“Who are we here to visit, Young Master?” Song Ruochen asked. “I’ll take you there.”

Meng Yumian was there to meet the curator of A City’s art museum. Their conversation revolved around art, which Song Ruochen couldn’t follow. He stood aside, zoning out while chatting with the system.

[As expected of you, Little Grape.]

[Bringing compressed biscuits was brilliant. Go ahead and drug us—we’re not eating anything else.]

“Exactly,” Song Ruochen said. “Bad guys only want to humiliate the Young Master in public. We’ll humiliate ourselves first, leaving them no room to act.”

A mere drugged drink couldn’t compete with the ghillie suit’s embarrassment. The Young Master’s health was safeguarded.

[Ding-dong, ding-dong.]

“Speak properly. Don’t make strange noises,” Song Ruochen said.

[Weird. I just scanned myself, and guess what?]

[The number of users in the rewind coin pouch is 1.5 people.]

Song Ruochen: “?”

“Because I’m so brilliant that I count as one and a half?” he guessed.

[Very likely.]

[Well, let’s not worry about it~]

“Exactly,” Song Ruochen agreed. “Less work, fewer problems.”

[You’re right. As long as it’s not reported, there’s no bug.]

Man and system were in perfect sync.

When Jian Yuheng arrived, his eyes immediately caught sight of the green figure in the wheelchair and the radiant little secretary beside him, who was glowing like moonlight.

“Whoa,” someone nearby exclaimed. “That’s clownish—couldn’t get any uglier.”

“I’m at peace now,” the voice muttered. “I’ll just retreat.”

Jian Yuheng turned to see a small 2D black cartoon figure retreating from the scene.

“Second Young Master?” Assistant Gong asked. “Why are you suddenly smiling so contentedly?”

A spotlight from the ballroom unknowingly landed on Jian Yuheng.

“If life deceives you, don’t worry,” Jian Yuheng said, looking upward. “When it messes with others, it might be even harsher than with you.”

Assistant Gong: “?”

Poetic inspiration?

“Dear guests, the cocktail hour is ending, and the dance is about to begin,” a voice announced in the hall. “Please find your dance partners and step into the dance floor.”

Song Ruochen glanced at Meng Yumian.

“No need, Secretary Song,” Meng Yumian hurriedly said. “The curator and I still have some work to discuss.”

If they plowed three laps around the dance floor, they might be able to plant crops by spring.

“All right, Young Master,” Song Ruochen said, never one to push.

[Don’t worry, the curator is a good person. It’s fine.]

[If you’re still uneasy, just set a save point nearby.]

“Setting one,” Song Ruochen said. “Better safe than sorry.”

[Can you dance?]

“I can only perform rituals,” Song Ruochen replied. “While they dance, I’ll raid the dessert table… Hey.”

A hand clasped his shoulder, holding him in place.

Turning around, Song Ruochen found it was none other than the villainous brother.

“Secretary Song, come dance,” Jian Yuheng said.

This idiot clearly didn’t know how to dance. What a perfect opportunity to mess with him and enjoy his clumsy moves.

“Secretary Song doesn’t know how?” Jian Yuheng asked. “In such an important social setting, how can Secretary Song lack basic etiquette?”

“We can just sever ties. No need for socialising,” Song Ruochen replied.

Ding.

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

Gentle, flowing music began. The alpha placed his hand on Song Ruochen’s waist.

“Alpha hands are so hot,” Song Ruochen told the system. “System darling, set a save point. I’m afraid I’ll step on him.”

[Save point set.]

“Second Young Master, pardon me,” Song Ruochen said.

Ten seconds later, Song Ruochen stepped on Jian Yuheng’s foot.

Five seconds after that, he stepped on it again.

Song Ruochen kept stepping, stepping, stepping.

Jian Yuheng felt like his feet were about to be flattened into flat feet. : )

“Song Ruochen, relax your hands a bit,” Jian Yuheng said. “…Don’t tear my clothes.”

“Sorry.” Song Ruochen focused on his feet.

It seemed like he had figured out the rhythm of the dance steps. It was kind of fun.

The music ended.

Jian Yuheng (the torn-up version) let go of him and looked at him with a complex expression for a few moments.

Jian Yuheng went to the side to recover while keeping an eye on Song Ruochen. Song Ruochen was calmly cutting himself a small piece of cake.

He realized that, when Song Ruochen was eating, he was the most obedient and the safest for him.

Actually, even when Song Ruochen was flustered, trying to find the dance steps earlier, he was still quite obedient.

There was a faint grape scent in the Omega’s black hair. He had noticed it when Song Ruochen lowered his head earlier, like freshly picked grapes. A bite would release a burst of sweet juice.

His feet didn’t hurt as much anymore, and Jian Yuheng thought that dancing with Song Ruochen wasn’t so bad after all.

“This cake isn’t as good as the one Yan Ci bought,” Song Ruochen said, with a look of disdain, standing by the dessert area.

[Ahhh, it’s 8:03, Chenchen.]

[My alpha boy band concert!]

“I’m going, I’m going,” Song Ruochen hurriedly opened his phone. “… No tickets left? It’s that popular?”

[Waaahhh]

“Return to save point 2, give me a 98% discount,” Song Ruochen said. “Just finished dancing, not eating that awful cake, and I’ll make it in time to grab tickets for you.”

Ding.

Feeling that his feet were better, Jian Yuheng returned to the center of the dance floor, his hand resting on Song Ruochen’s narrow waist.

The music started, and confident after one round, Song Ruochen automatically took a step forward, stepping precisely on the top of Jian Yuheng’s foot.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

😀

🙂

😐

What? You love dancing?

You want to keep dancing?