FOBTS CH27.2

At dawn, a paint-covered, exhausted little white figure finally left, leaving behind a spotless exhibition hall.

“Secretary Song’s work is always so reliable,” Meng Yumian said. “We didn’t spend a dime, and now we have a clean venue.”

“Excellent,” Song Ruochen said, sitting in the wheelchair.

“Thanks to Secretary Song for shielding me from the wind and rain,” Meng Yumian said gratefully.

The wind and rain had overslept, so he was dozing off in Meng Yumian’s wheelchair, propping his head on his hand.

“The exhibition is about to start. I’ll…” Meng Yumian looked at his feet. “I’ll push Secretary Song to rest.”

Secretary Song: “Mm… Zzz.”

Meng Yumian pushed the wheelchair toward the lounge. The warm sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a gentle glow on the clean and handsome face of the sleeping Omega. Song Ruochen was sound asleep.

Meng Yumian stomped his feet a few times, draped a blanket over Song Ruochen, and, with a determined look, stood up and walked off to greet the visitors.

*

At 10 a.m., at the Xiaoshi Group.

Jian Feng held a cup of coffee and stared blankly at his computer screen.

“This is the proposed list of new collaborative streamers,” Jian Yuheng said, placing a file on the desk. “What are you looking at?”

Jian Feng tilted the screen slightly, and Jian Yuheng glanced over—it was Meng Yumian’s art exhibition.

Young Master Meng was pushing Song Ruochen, standing amidst the crowd, explaining his artwork.

Jian Yuheng: “?”

Jian Yuheng: “Pfft.”

This grape optimized not just the leadership but indiscriminately optimized everyone.

But why did the little secretary look so sleepy? What was he doing last night? Wasn’t he supposed to be cooking at home?

Jian Feng: “?”

Jian Feng: “What’s wrong, bro? You’re about to stomp me into flat feet.”

Jian Yuheng: “Nothing.” He moved his foot away.

In the livestream video, two troublemakers barged into the exhibition hall, loudly commenting on the artwork.

“I don’t get it,” one of them said. “These lines are called masterpieces? Seriously, anyone can hold a comic con these days.”

Their voices were loud enough to draw the attention of several visitors.

Meng Yumian opened his mouth but couldn’t get a word out. Outside the screen, Jian Feng picked up his phone, ready to ask about the situation.

“It’s understandable,” said Song Ruochen lazily from the side. “After all, the less you know, the stronger your urge to express yourself.”

Jian Feng: “…”

“Looks like Secretary Song is taking good care of Meng Yumian,” Jian Feng remarked.

Jian Yuheng: “Heh.”

The little secretary had started tormenting others, and his brother was gradually becoming cheerful again.

“Hand me an apple,” Jian Yuheng said, reaching out.

Jian Feng was startled. “Didn’t you say you didn’t want one yesterday?”

“I want it now,” Jian Yuheng replied.

Having missed out yesterday, he really wanted to take a bite of Song Ruochen’s apple today.

“Here you go.” Jian Feng handed over an apple.

Ding.

The apple was taken back just as quickly. Jian Feng put it back in the basket.

“You hand it over,” Jian Feng said.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

皿

[You’re the only one who uses features no one else does.]

In the park below the Xiaoshi Group building, Song Ruochen stood on a child’s skateboard, practicing backward moves.

“Fun,” Song Ruochen said. “Painless way to learn skating backward.”

[Go to work.]

[Let’s go pick up the snacks Da Zao left for us.]

One person and one system headed toward the office building. Song Ruochen took the elevator upstairs and stopped at Jian Feng’s office door.

“President Jian,” Song Ruochen knocked, “I’m here to get my app—”

Jian Yuheng sat at the desk, holding an apple that had already been half-eaten.

Jian Yuheng’s lips curled slightly. “Secretary Song, I ate one of your apples. Hope you don’t mind?”

Two seconds later, Song Ruochen lightly shook his head. “No…”

It was just an apple, no big deal.

Outside the office, Gong Huo and a colleague were chatting—

“I heard Secretary Song often speaks disrespectfully to the second young master,” said the colleague. “Secretary Song is indeed out of line. Did the second young master deal with him properly?”

“He did,” Gong Huo replied. “Trust in the second young master. With his abilities and personality, he certainly wouldn’t let Secretary Song off the hook. Whenever he has time, he teaches him a good lesson.”

Gong Huo opened the office door. “Second young master—”

The second young master was holding the half-eaten apple, showing it to Song Ruochen. “I ate your apple.”

Colleague: “…”

Gong Huo: “…”

What a… harsh punishment.

“Suit yourself,” Song Ruochen said coldly, grabbing the fruit basket and leaving.

Jian Yuheng’s grin widened, and the apple in his hand seemed to taste twice as sweet.

“Second young master,” Gong Huo said, “Meiwei’s Chairman Jin invited you to dinner tonight.”

“Decline,” Jian Yuheng replied. “My brother invited me to a bar tonight.”

“Understood,” Gong Huo said. “There are two documents here that need your review.”

*

Song Ruochen spent two hours in his office, two more playing on his phone in the conference room, then did a quick inspection of several departments. By 4:30, yawning, he clocked out.

[Time rewind: 3 hours credited. Single-day rewind count: 15 times.]

“Meng Yumian’s storyline drops a lot of rewards,” Song Ruochen remarked. “Staying up late last night was worth it.”

“So tired.” Song Ruochen half-closed his eyes. “I must go to bed early tonight.”

Thunk. He bumped into someone.

“Second young master, are you blocking the way after work?” Song Ruochen asked.

Jian Yuheng: “.”

Jian Yuheng stood there for two seconds, waiting for a notification sound.

Perfect. That was a direct insult. The little secretary wasn’t retracting his words.

An apple, just an apple—was Song Ruochen really mad?

Interesting.

“Second young master isn’t off work yet,” Jian Yuheng said. “But Secretary Song, leaving at 4:30?”

Song Ruochen pressed the elevator button. Rarely taking the elevator, Jian Yuheng followed him in.

As the elevator descended slowly, the two of them were the only ones inside.

Jian Yuheng was smiling, but suddenly Song Ruochen turned around and gave him a firm push. Jian Yuheng stepped back, lightly bumping against the elevator wall.

Song Ruochen poked a finger into his cheek. “Jian Yujie, is your skin thick? Why did you steal the secretary’s apple?”

Ding.

Song Ruochen gave him another push, pressing his hand against Jian Yuheng’s chest. “Are apples for growing abs?”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

Ding.

In the confined space, boldness grew. Song Ruochen continued teasing, poking the alpha’s neck. “Do you alphas even have glands?”

Jian Yuheng: “Song Ruochen!”

Ding.

Song Ruochen tugged at his hair.

“Not much to it,” Song Ruochen said. “Give me back my big apple.”

Ding.

Song Ruochen walked out of the elevator nonchalantly, nodding at Jian Feng, who happened to be passing by.

“Off work already?” Jian Feng asked.

Song Ruochen nodded. “Mm.”

Proudly, Secretary Song walked away.

Jian Feng peeked into the elevator. “Brother? Not coming out? Let’s go drink together.”

Jian Yuheng: “…Ding.”

Jian Feng: “?”

*

Having played golf together last time, the two brothers now interacted more naturally.

Jian Yuheng had a few drinks with Jian Feng and discussed some work matters, leaving both of them feeling enlightened.

At 9 p.m., Jian Yuheng took a phone call. When he returned, Jian Feng was just about to leave.

“Should I call Secretary Song to drive us home?” Jian Feng asked, reaching for his phone.

“No need,” Jian Yuheng replied. “I’ll walk. You walk too—low-carbon travel is very eco-friendly.”

Jian Feng: “…Alright.”

“You go ahead, brother.” Jian Feng glanced at his phone. “I’ll take a call.”

The walk from the bar to home was only about forty minutes. Jian Yuheng strolled leisurely, enjoying the roadside scenery. Normally, he passed by in a rush, but walking like this offered a different kind of charm.

Today, he’d successfully ruffled Song Ruochen’s feathers, which put him in a great mood and made him work more efficiently.

Once home, within half an hour, Jian Yuheng had written a report and personally transplanted a sensitive plant. Done. Time for a shower.

*

Meanwhile, at Song Ruochen’s house:

Song Ruochen: “Zzzz.”

[Alert, alert.]

[Da Zao just had an argument with Jian Feng and is packing to leave for somewhere near the equator.]

[Please repair the main couple’s relationship line, or prepare to search along the equator.]

Song Ruochen: “Z…?”

What was going on?

[Apparently, it happened at the bar. Some green tea got clingy with Jian Feng, and Jian Feng didn’t explain himself properly.]

Song Ruochen made a quick decision. “Rewind to when they were at the bar. I’ll head over.”

[The incident occurred approximately 90 minutes ago. Preparing to rewind 90 minutes.]

[Would you like to arrive directly or rewind in reverse?]

“Reverse,” Song Ruochen said. “I’ll sleep until the beginning and then leave.”

[Ding. Rewinding in reverse for you. Please relax and enjoy the uncontrollable reversal process.]

*

At Jian Yuheng’s house—

Ding.

Jian Yuheng: “?”

He watched himself walk back to the window, shovel in hand, digging up the sensitive plant and tossing it back into its original pot.

Jian Yuheng: “No!!”

Then, he returned to his desk, deleting the report he’d just written, one word at a time.

Jian Yuheng: “No, no!!”

Next, he exited the house, moving farther and farther away, retracing the scenic walk home—oh no, now it was a walk away from home.

Jian Yuheng: “:)”

Author’s Note:

Second Young Master Jian: Today, I really wanted to eat my wife’s apple.