FOBTS CH28

Chapter 28: Calmly Rewinding

In life, people often forge ahead, missing the scenery left behind.

Now, Jian Yuheng was seeing the scenery he had missed: “:)”

The moon set, the sun rose, and birds in the sky flew backward—an utterly comical sight.

Was Song Ruochen’s system primarily designed for comedy?

Why did it keep adding useless features?

Jian Yuheng began to miss the days of the one-click rewind function.

Wait, something felt off.

Did rewinding mean he wouldn’t be angry anymore? He still wanted his report and flowers back!

As Jian Yuheng rewound, he berated himself. Slowly, he saw familiar streets again, and his brother walked backward with a jaunty stride.

“Xingshi Wanhejia,” Jian Feng said.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

How far back was this rewind going?

But he figured it had to stop soon because Song Ruochen surely wouldn’t rewind back to work hours.

Jian Yuheng: “:D”

Sure enough, the rewind stopped, and he was back at the bar holding a wine glass. If he remembered correctly, this was when he and Jian Feng had just had a few drinks and were chatting.

“So, how’s it going with that omega who has a 100% compatibility rate with you?” Jian Feng asked again, this time forward. “Have you thought about meeting them in person?”

Last round, Jian Yuheng had said they were currently in a monarch-subject relationship.

This time, he replied, “I want to spar a bit to test their reflexes.”

Jian Feng: “…?”

“You can’t hit an omega,” Jian Feng said. “By the way, how did you only score 98 on the AO premarital test?”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

Who was to blame for that?

“You need to take the initiative,” his brother advised. “Is the other person really introverted?”

“No, they’re a rascal,” Jian Yuheng replied.

An office rascal, a gym rascal, and an elevator rascal.

Jian Feng: “…?”

For a moment, Jian Yuheng thought he saw a single-bar Wi-Fi signal in his brother’s eyes.

If taking the initiative was the standard, did Song Ruochen count?

So far, Song Ruochen had touched his hair once, tugged his hair twice, poked his face three times, grabbed his neck once, and poked his collarbone once, patted his chest once, and patted his abs once (by mistake).

Jian Yuheng: “Hiss…”

“What’s wrong, little brother?” Jian Feng snapped out of it. “Why do I feel like your temperature is rising?”

It was as if a kettle had started boiling.

The kettle: “I’m fine.”

A 100% compatibility rate between an AO pair meant mutual attraction. After so many encounters, had Song Ruochen been… attracted to him?

“Brother,” Jian Yuheng asked earnestly, “how do you show your affection for my sister-in-law?”

Jian Feng patted his chest. “It requires no expression. Heaven is my witness.”

Jian Yuheng: “?”

Damn it, what a useless alpha. Zero reference value.

Fortunately, he was well-read. Books said that when you like someone, you can’t help but want to get close to them and touch them.

Did Song Ruochen count? Song Ruochen did seem to really like his hawthorn-flavored pheromones. Understandable—100% compatibility, after all.

But he didn’t want to get married, nor was he particularly fond of overly neurotic omegas. Sure, Song Ruochen was undeniably good-looking, but relationships were troublesome, and he didn’t want the responsibility of taking care of someone.

With a loud bang, the bar’s side door was kicked open, and Secretary Song appeared in a crisp white shirt, exuding cold indifference.

“Madam, please,” Song Ruochen said.

Yan Ci appeared at the entrance, pushing a bicycle.

“Go, valet park Mr. Jian’s wife’s vehicle,” Song Ruochen said, tossing out a one-yuan tip.

The server, utterly baffled, pushed the bicycle away.

Jian Yuheng: “Pfft.”

Song Ruochen had no choice. It was rush hour, traffic was terrible, and the subway wasn’t convenient. He could only ride his bike to pick up his “jujube.”

After all, university students were quite skilled at giving someone a lift on a bike.

“Yan Ci, Secretary Song, over here,” Jian Feng called out when he saw them. “Didn’t you say you weren’t coming? Why the sudden change of plans?”

“Because this place is closer than the equator,” Song Ruochen replied.

Jian Feng: “?”

He shook his head, confirming his brain was still intact.

Why had Secretary Song’s and his younger brother’s words become so cryptic lately?

“Hello, you… hello,” Yan Ci politely addressed the server. “Please get me a cocktail, and for Chenchen, a…”

“Milk tea,” Jian Yuheng interjected.

“Got it,” the server said.

Song Ruochen: “?”

“A 3,000-word interview reflection is due tonight,” Jian Yuheng said. “I expect Secretary Song to complete it sober and independently.”

Song Ruochen: “It’s bad enough that I curse you in my mind. Now you want a written version too?”

Ding.

“Got it, Second Young Master,” Song Ruochen replied.

Milk tea it was—he had bigger fish to fry.

Yan Ci turned to Jian Yuheng and winked.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

I’m not doing this for myself. Self-preservation is the law of nature—I just don’t want to lose my mind.

The bar had a nice ambiance. The resident singer crooned a gentle love song. It was a rare occasion for Song Ruochen to visit a place like this, and he curiously glanced around.

“Chenchen, I’ve noticed fewer people cursing me lately,” Yan Ci said.

“Qingping stopped?” Song Ruochen asked.

Who knew if the perpetual motion machine he’d found for Meng Yumian was working?

“Lately, he’s been cursed a lot, often driving him to madness. His unstable emotions even got him banned from live streaming for a month,” Yan Ci said.

“And on my end, I suddenly gained a fan.” Yan Ci handed his phone to Song Ruochen. “This fan keeps arguing with my haters.”

Song Ruochen squinted at the screen. The username was “‘Painting Boats, Listening to Rain as I Sleep.”

He clicked into the user’s comment history—

Three days ago:

@‘Painting Boats, Listening to Rain as I Sleep: “You insult me? Rebound!”

Two days ago:

@‘Painting Boats, Listening to Rain as I Sleep: “Kids say the darndest things. Little elementary schooler, focus on your exams!”

One day ago:

@‘Painting Boats, Listening to Rain as I Sleep: “Sure, sure, you’re right. Respect the deceased.”
@‘Painting Boats, Listening to Rain as I Sleep: “I just love this streamer’s chatroom. So many haters, so easy to provoke, so much inspiration!”

Song Ruochen: “…”

The frail, sickly childhood friend had turned into a troll?

The growth rate was terrifying.

Had Meng Yumian learned to find people to argue with on his own while evolving into an upright walker?

Secretary Song, truly extraordinary.

“My streams have been going so smoothly lately,” Yan Ci said. “Secretary Song, do you think he gets tired from arguing all the time?”

“No,” Song Ruochen replied. “…Looks like things are going well for him too.”

The live singer abruptly switched songs. The alpha vocalist’s voice was excellent, prompting Song Ruochen to glance over.

“What kind of lyrics are these? I don’t get it,” Song Ruochen said.

“Seems to be about an alpha falling in love with an omega,” Yan Ci explained. “We could move closer for a better listen.”

“Let’s go, let’s go. Let’s check it out,” Song Ruochen said.

Do ABO-world lyrics hit differently?

Jian Yuheng lifted his gaze, watching the little secretary’s retreating figure.

Was the song really that good? Did he have to get a front-row seat?

“Brother Jian,” a voice came from nearby.

Jian Feng turned to see a rival company’s kid. If he remembered correctly, his name was… Xu Xiao?

Reeking of alcohol, Xu Xiao stumbled toward Jian Feng, arms wide as if to embrace him.

“Brother Jian, even Yan Ci won’t drink with you?”

Jian Feng was about to push him away. “Young Master Xu, you’re drunk—”

Suddenly, Jian Yuheng burst into a loud coughing fit. “Cough! Cough! Cough, cough, cough!”

What’s going on? Did he choke on a giant apple?

Song Ruochen spun around irritably, immediately spotting the culprit behind tonight’s impending overtime.

Yan Ci also turned, blinking on the spot—

0.0.

Ding.

Song Ruochen returned to the bar. The moment Xu Xiao leaned in, he raised a foot and kicked him away.

“Young Master Xu.” Secretary Song coldly eyed the bewildered man now sitting on the floor. “The tissue in your hand posed a grave threat to Mr. Jian’s safety.”

Jian Feng: “…”

Yan Ci: 0.0*

“I-I didn’t,” Xu Xiao stammered. “I just lost my balance—”

“Security is no place for carelessness,” Song Ruochen said. “I kindly ask Young Master Xu not to trouble working people.”

Xu Xiao: “You… I…”

The corners of Jian Yuheng’s mouth twitched slightly. When he noticed Yan Ci looking at him, he quickly smoothed his expression.

Jian Yuheng (10% embarrassed): “:]”

“Xu Xiao.” A middle-aged man’s voice interrupted. “What’s going on? Why are you over here? Don’t be disrespectful to Mr. Jian and his brother.”

Xu Xiao: “I didn’t…”

Dusting himself off, he cast a fearful glance at the cold Secretary Song standing beside Yan Ci before shrinking behind his father.

“Long time no see, both of you,” the middle-aged man invited. “Our seats are over there. Why not come over for a drink and chat for a while? Let Xu Xiao apologize to you. How about that?”

Since they were business partners, Jian Feng didn’t refuse, and the group changed seats.

Jian Yuheng turned his head and noticed his brother was sweating profusely.

Listening closely, he realized his brother was muttering under his breath: “If you stand upright, no shadow will fall crooked.”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

What a single-minded, stubborn Alpha.

*

[Rewind Coin Pouch: 10 minutes credited.]

“Just this little?” Song Ruochen asked the system.

[It’s hard to go from extravagance to frugality.]

[Nowadays, Little Grape isn’t impressed by a mere 10-minute rewind token.]

“Well, not exactly,” Song Ruochen replied. “But the cost of cleaning up after him isn’t cheap.”

Still, it was acceptable. He’d kicked the guy out, and at least Jian Feng wouldn’t turn into a sticky date, snow date, or seaweed.

*

The singer on the live music stage had stopped, probably on a break. The Alpha singer left, and Song Ruochen sighed regretfully.

“No more music—it’s so dull now,” Xu Xiao said timidly. “Even the wine tastes bland.”

He turned his gaze to Song Ruochen. “I heard the CEO’s secretary at Xiaoshi Group is a jack-of-all-trades, skilled in everything from music to chess and calligraphy. Could you provide us with some background music?”

Song Ruochen: “?”

Targeting me now?

“That’s not necessary…” Yan Ci interjected. “If the wine tastes bland, you shouldn’t drink it. Especially if you’re going to crash into someone else’s husband afterward.”

Xu Xiao: “…”

“I didn’t mean anything by it. I just wanted some sound…” Xu Xiao tried to explain. “I wasn’t trying to make things difficult.”

“Uncle Xu, maybe don’t let him drink anymore,” Jian Yuheng suggested. “His memory seems to worsen with every drink. Xu Xiao, didn’t Secretary Song just tell you earlier that he’s handling security tonight, not anything else?”

Xu Xiao’s father frowned. He understood his son wanted to regain face after being humiliated by Secretary Song, so he didn’t intervene. However, why were the people from Xiaoshi so protective of a secretary?

Xiaoshi Group was a business partner—he absolutely couldn’t afford to offend them.

“Pay extra to get the live singer back,” Jian Feng suggested. “Professional tasks should be handled by professionals.”

Song Ruochen: “Huh?”

Pay extra?

“I can do it,” Song Ruochen said. “I’ll sing.”

Why not? He was a jack-of-all-trades.

Jian Yuheng: “…?”

He wanted to refuse, but how could he stop the secretary when he insisted?

“Fine, let’s listen to Secretary Song’s singing,” Jian Feng said with a laugh.

Xu Xiao was satisfied. A CEO’s secretary? In the end, he was just a worker for the company, forced to sing for the sake of cooperation between the two businesses. What lofty secretary? In front of him, he was nothing more than a corporate lackey.

The microphone was a bit high, so Song Ruochen adjusted it downward.

“What kind of chords would you like?” the guitarist asked.

“No need,” Song Ruochen waved his hand. “I’m not singing. I’ll DJ.”

The guitarist: “?”

Song Ruochen pulled out his phone, selected a popular song, and prepared to mix a track. However—

“I, Jian Feng, am loyal to Yan Ci and only Yan Ci!”

A loud robotic voice blared.

Song Ruochen: “…”

Wrong track. This was a custom anti-third-party deterrent he’d made last time.

*

[Your mobile data usage has exceeded the limit for this month. You owe ¥1. Service suspended.]

[Only local songs can be played.]

*

“Jian Feng loves Yan Ci forever. Yan Ci belongs to Jian Feng!”

The robotic voice boomed.

Flustered, Song Ruochen hurriedly mixed a track to cover it.

“Give up any improper thoughts. Jian Feng loves no one but Yan Ci.”

On the sofa, Jian Feng turned red, and so did Yan Ci…very red.

Even Xu Xiao, under the gazes of the crowd, buried his head.

Everyone was bowing their heads, making the conspicuously upright Jian Yuheng also blush.

“Jian Feng and Yan Ci will definitely have a long and happy life together,” the phone’s speaker freestyled. “A match made in heaven, anytime, anywhere.”

Song Ruochen rolled his eyes coldly.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

If he had known, he would’ve gone up to sing himself.

Xu Xiao glanced at Jian Feng and then at Yan Ci. Suddenly, he felt that dating Jian Feng seemed…embarrassing.

*

[Rewind Coin Pouch: 2 hours credited.]

Song Ruochen: “?”

DJ-ing earned this much?

Next time, he’d DJ again.

*

[Values panel updated.]

[Fetching primary character stats…]

[Main CP: Affection +20, Harmony +20, Self-consciousness +30]

[Important character (childhood friend): Independence +20, Frailty -20, Sharp-tongued +30, gained tags: “Hairball,” “Flamer.”]

*

The next morning, as Song Ruochen got up, the system’s broadcast echoed in his ears.

“Why did self-consciousness increase again?” he complained.

Whatever. Time for work. There were still…apples? No, tasks to complete.

*

[Today is maintenance day.]

[The rewind system is disabled for one day.]

[We will be performing routine fixes. If you hear ding-dang, clang-clang, or similar sounds, please ignore them.]

“Got it, no problem,” Song Ruochen replied. “I’m not dependent on the rewind system.”

He took the subway to work and headed straight for Jian Feng’s office. The desk was piled with documents, so he commandeered Jian Feng’s workstation and started sorting.

He organized the files by thickness, then by title length. During this, people kept coming in.

“President?” The head of the media department came in. “Here’s a report.”

“President?” The marketing director entered. “I’ve brought some documents.”

“President?” Gong Huo arrived.

Song Ruochen: “Yes?”

“Get out!” Assistant Gong exclaimed. “You left your ID badge on the couch. Second Young Master asked me to bring it over.”

Assistant Gong asked, “Did President Jian take leave?”

“Skipped work,” Song Ruochen replied. “No leave request submitted.”

“Must be nice being the boss,” Assistant Gong muttered as he walked away. “We employees have to do whatever the boss says—no questions asked.”

*

Upstairs in his office, Jian Yuheng was staring blankly at his desk while wiping it.

Last night at the bar, two omegas had been sitting next to him, chirping away in conversation. When Song Ruochen was with Yan Ci, he seemed to laugh more often. He would protect Yan Ci, exuding a mix of reliability and unpredictability.

When he wasn’t causing trouble, he didn’t seem so annoying after all.

This morning, his brother had a sudden whim to visit a desert or an island. Unfortunately, the helicopter had been painted over, and the yacht had been donated, so he could only stay home and accompany Yan Ci on a livestream.

With the boss absent today, the piled-up work meant Song Ruochen would be busy.

*

Ding.

A rewind? Still seated—probably not much rewound.

Jian Yuheng wiped the desk with renewed vigor.

Ding.

Jian Yuheng: “:D”

Wipe, wipe, wipe—he kept wiping with a calm demeanor and a smile.

Ding-dang.

Dang-ding, ding-da-dang, dang-dang-dang, ding~

Jian Yuheng: “?”

Broken? Malfunctioning?

“Second Young Master,” Assistant Gong said upon returning to the office, “stop wiping. You’ve worn the desk surface down.”

Jian Yuheng: “:)”

Ungrateful child, give me back my desk.

__

Author’s Note:

You return his apples first (.)