FOBTS CH32

Chapter 32: The Quiet and Beautiful Little Secretary

Assistant Gong had no idea what to do. Their second young master had shouted, “Warning!” “Pervert!” before slumping over the desk.

“Second Young Master,” Assistant Gong said, “You still have a meeting with the people from Haochi later.”

“I know.” Jian Yuheng rebooted himself and turned around to grab his jacket.

Jian Yuheng: “?”

Song Ruochen’s jacket was draped over the back of his chair.

Pfft, the little secretary took the wrong grape peel.

Jian Yuheng: “……：”

Ding.

Jian Yuheng: “）”

Song Ruochen, who had turned back, quickly grabbed his own grape peel and bolted out of the interview room.

“Jeez,” Assistant Gong, who had been knocked over, muttered, “He’s in a rush for food again!”

“…Or maybe something else.” Jian Yuheng, now calm, replied.

“Second Young Master,” Assistant Gong whispered, “Secretary Song is the MVP of the cafeteria.”

“Oh, right,” Assistant Gong added, “Second Young Master, it’s time for the meeting with Haochi.”

Jian Yuheng absentmindedly hummed in response. Was Song Ruochen okay on his own in that state?

But then again—

What could possibly go wrong?

It was the first time Jian Yuheng had seen an omega carrying that many suppressants.

This guy is practically a little nutcase with his brain floating in space and his IQ nowhere on Earth.

“Let’s go. Time for the meeting,” Jian Yuheng said.

Assistant Gong opened the door, motioning for his boss to step out. Jian Yuheng stood at the entrance, glancing around, but he couldn’t spot that familiar figure.

Where did he go? Does he even know how to use the suppressants? Does it hurt?

Jian Yuheng: “……”

What am I thinking? How is this my problem?

—

In an empty office at the end of the hallway, Song Ruochen locked the door and slumped weakly onto the couch.

“My head is spinning, I’m thirsty, my body is heating up, my legs feel weak, and I feel a bit… empty,” Song Ruochen muttered.

[Stick the suppressant in. Stop whining.]

“What do you know?” Song Ruochen retorted. “I’m collecting precious data on heat cycles in the ABO world.”

[…Wow, a university student. So impressive.]

“To prevent all the common pitfalls in novels—like the suppressant failing or forgetting to bring one,” Song Ruochen continued, “I bought ten different brands to ensure absolute security.”

He struggled with the cap for a while but couldn’t get it open.

Clang.

A small knife dropped into his hand. Using the system’s little tool, he finally pried open the suppressant bottle—only to be startled by the length of the needle.

[Injecting into the back of the neck works best. Other locations are less effective.]

“What about oral suppressants?” Song Ruochen asked. “Do they work?”

[There’s one that does.]

[It helps with thirst.]

Song Ruochen: “……”

Resigning himself to this world’s norms, he injected the omega-type suppressant into his left wrist.

“Ow.”

It hurt like hell.

[Takes about ten minutes to kick in.]

Too slow. Song Ruochen felt like he was about to be roasted into a raisin. It wasn’t like the villain’s hawthorn scent—just a whiff of that had made him happy in an instant.

He missed the hawthorn.

—

Upstairs, Jian Yuheng entered the room, shook hands with the representatives from Haochi Group, and took a seat at the conference table.

“Second Young Master,” Assistant Gong asked, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Iced grape juice,” Jian Yuheng replied.

“Understood, Second Young Master.” Assistant Gong went to prepare the drink.

Settling into his seat, Jian Yuheng found his mind drifting back to earlier events.

It had felt like he was thrown into a desert, and then someone had held a sweet, cool grape right in front of his mouth.

And then he didn’t get to take a bite…

Did Song Ruochen even realize how dangerous it was to tease an alpha in that state?!

Maybe he did—but the little pervert didn’t care.

Jian Yuheng had strong mental fortitude and wasn’t affected by the 100% compatibility rate, but the little nutcase? He not only didn’t resist the influence—he seemed to enjoy it?!

“This time, Haochi has found a few solid short drama scripts. We think Secretary Song’s proposal is worth a try,” one of the Haochi representatives said. “We’ve also selected some actors and will coordinate with Xiaoshi’s team.”

Haochi’s boss glanced at Jian Yuheng. “Second Young Master?”

Why was he zoning out in a meeting?

“I’m here,” Jian Yuheng said. “Since this was Secretary Song’s proposal, he should be the one to handle it.”

The Haochi boss raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Leaders usually love to take credit—he’s seen it countless times. But Jian Yuheng, who looked like a calculating strategist, wasn’t taking any credit at all?

“Alright,” Haochi’s boss agreed. “I’ll have my team coordinate with Secretary Song later.”

“Second Young Master, here’s your grape juice,” Assistant Gong said, placing the drink in front of him.

Jian Yuheng took a few gulps.

What to do? After seeing such an astonishing grape, all other grapes paled in comparison.

But he was indeed thirsty now, so drinking more iced grape juice was acceptable.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Jian Yuheng: “???”

Getting a three-second response three times in a row allowed him to enjoy unlimited refills of grape juice.

Jian Yuheng: “……”

*

Downstairs, Song Ruochen slumped onto the sofa, as if lifeless.

[Returning for three seconds means you don’t have to endure that wave of discomfort?]

Song Ruochen: “……”

[It’ll take effect soon!]

“Useless.” Song Ruochen weakly muttered, “Hawthorn is better.”

[……]

[The inhibitor is working so slowly on you, probably because of the genetic illness in the original novel’s setting.]

A few minutes later, the urge to stick close to hawthorn suddenly disappeared, and Song Ruochen was instantly revived.

He tossed the inhibitor bottle away, adjusted his clothes in front of the mirror, and walked out of the office, running into Jian Yuheng in the hallway.

“Second Young Master, are you that free?” Song Ruochen asked. “Wandering around during work hours?”

Jian Yuheng: “…Not free. Has Secretary Song’s new regulations been copied yet? Let me check.”

Song Ruochen pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and slapped it into Jian Yuheng’s hand.

As he passed by, Jian Yuheng caught a faint lingering scent of grape. He unfolded the paper—

A photo of himself.

On the back: Second Young Master is the company’s new regulation.

Jian Yuheng: “……”

Bullseye.

Outsourcing work, not standing properly when punished, finding loopholes in writing punishments, and now…

Trying to pull off an office romance?

He wasn’t naturally lively. If he were to find a mate, choosing someone lively wouldn’t be a bad idea. Maybe even someone a little unhinged?

But was Song Ruochen just “a little” unhinged?

They both had fruit-scented pheromones—seemed like a good match.

But wherever Song Ruochen went, chaos followed.

“Brother.” Jian Feng passed by, tilting his head. “What are you smiling at? Not having lunch?”

Jian Yuheng (Secret Happiness 40%): “:]”

“I’m not smiling,” Jian Yuheng said.

*

On the top floor, in the staff cafeteria of Xiaoshi Group, a few streamers who had just passed the first round of interviews were looking around in amazement.

“No wonder people say Xiaoshi has great benefits. The entire floor is a cafeteria,” a dance streamer said. “The employees are so lucky.”

“If I can stay, I’d be fine with just 10,000 a month,” a college student streamer said.

“I only need 8,000. Keep me!” The dance streamer said.

The food streamer wouldn’t back down: “I’d settle for 5,000, okay?”

“Cheap things aren’t valued.” A slightly cold voice sounded in their ears. “If I sell you a small card that costs 50 cents—one for 2,000 and another for 20—which one would you treasure more?”

Jian Yuheng had just arrived at the cafeteria when he heard this.

The one who wasn’t cheap was sitting by the window with two servings of ice cream in front of him.

These streamers had been quite intimidated during today’s interview by Song Ruochen (cool version). After all, he had made Qingping speechless right at the start.

But in the later interviews, Secretary Song didn’t show much hostility.

“Secretary Song,” the food streamer bravely asked, “we’d like to try the staff cafeteria’s food. Could we borrow your work badge?”

Song Ruochen: “:D Go ahead.”

The AAAOBB at that table made Jian Yuheng roll his eyes.

The little secretary had just suppressed his heat, and now he was surrounded by so many people—was this appropriate?

Besides, weren’t lunch vouchers already sent through the interview app? Didn’t Gong Huo notify them?

“Brother.” Jian Feng arrived. “I ordered you a grilled steak.”

Jian Yuheng: “Steak.”

Jian Feng: “?”

The raspberry-flavored ice cream tasted better than the strawberry one—Song Ruochen reached this conclusion.

His phone screen lit up with incoming messages—

[Meng Yumian]: Read my message first~

[Yan Ci]: Read my message first 0.0.

Song Ruochen: “?”

Huh? Were they together?

He was good at keeping things balanced.

Song Ruochen invited “Yan Ci” and “Meng Yumian” into a group chat. Hmm, he needed a nice group name.

Song Ruochen renamed the group chat to “Fuzzy Jujube Grape.”

[Yan Ci]: Grandma wants me to accompany her to a musical tomorrow. My uncle will be there too. 0.0.

[Yan Ci]: Your turn, Fuzzy Monster.

[Meng Yumian]: I have an old classmates’ reunion and would like Secretary Song to come along. 0.0.

Song Ruochen: “……”

Damn.

These two big storylines were overlapping.

[In the original novel, Yan Ci went to the musical with his grandma, got lectured by his uncle, and secretly cried several times.]

[Meng Yumian was bullied at the reunion and fell seriously ill afterward.]

“Where’s the protagonist gong?” Song Ruochen asked.

[Busy with business battles against the villain.]

Song Ruochen: “……”

He snapped his head around. At another table by the window, Jian Feng was cutting steak for Jian Yuheng.

“Brother?” Jian Feng said. “People need food to function. Eat a little.”

Jian Feng: “Even if you have something on your mind, you should still eat.”

“He’s cutting such big pieces—does he plan to choke Jian Yuheng to death?” Song Ruochen asked.

[Very likely.]

[As everyone knows, real business battles are usually quite plain and unembellished.]

“Whatever.” Song Ruochen said. “I have to go take care of things.”

If both of them ended up running away, he couldn’t just split himself in two to chase them.

“Did Secretary Song just glare at me?” Jian Feng asked.

Jian Feng: “?”

Jian Feng: “Brother, did you just glare at me too?”

Song Ruochen typed a reply in the group chat—

[Song Ruochen]: First, I accompanied Da Zao to the musical, then I accompanied Fuzzy Monster to the class reunion.

[Song Ruochen]: Look at me keeping things balanced.

At a dessert shop near Xiaoshi Group, Yan Ci and Meng Yumian sat at the same table.

Meng Yumian held a sketchpad, made a few quick strokes, and sketched a rough draft. “Last time, they were holding each other like this, right?”

“Ah, yeah, yeah, but Secretary Song is a bit smaller,” Yan Ci said. “Your drawing is amazing.”

“Of course.” Meng Yumian smirked. “I’ll add some of my own ideas.”

“Then give Little Grape a different outfit,” Yan Ci suggested. “I’ll find you a reference picture.”

Meng Yumian drew rapidly.

“Oh, right, and last time, when we went golfing,” Yan Ci added, “Jian Yuheng was staring at Secretary Song like this…”

“Like this?” Meng Yumian adjusted the sketch.

“No, no,” Yan Ci gestured. “It was this angle.”

“Alright, alright.” Meng Yumian revised the drawing.

Xiaoshi Group, Employee Cafeteria.

[Secretary Song’s reputation dropped by 10 points.]

Song Ruochen: “?”

“I knew it,” he said angrily. “Those two are gossiping about me again!”

*

The next evening, Song Ruochen left work early, changed into the clothes Dazao bought for him, and went downstairs to hail a cab.

It was hard to get a cab during rush hour. Worried that Yan Ci would get impatient, he glanced at the bicycles by the roadside.

Two seconds later, Song Ruochen turned around and went back into the office building. Not finding Jian Feng, he went upstairs and knocked on Jian Yuheng’s office door.

“Second Young Master, you can get off work now,” Song Ruochen said.

Jian Yuheng: “.”

“You think you can decide whether our Second Young Master gets off work?” Assistant Gong said loudly. “Second Young Master obviously won’t listen to you. He’s not leaving.”

Jian Yuheng: “.”

Honestly, it was hard to tell who was more insufferable.

“Assistant Gong,” Jian Yuheng said. “Go start the car.”

Assistant Gong: “Yes, sir.”

“The company’s new policy says employees should help each other out,” Song Ruochen said. “So, please give me a ride to the city center.”

Jian Yuheng: “Help each other?”

“I can plan your itinerary for you,” Song Ruochen offered. “Everyone who’s used my services says they’re great.”

Jian Yuheng: “:)”

Everyone who used them was practically dead—of course, there were no bad reviews.

Jian Yuheng was momentarily dazed. He could still faintly smell that sweet grape scent.

But when he looked up, Song Ruochen had already put on a small collar that blocked the scent of his pheromones.

That didn’t make sense. With such good protection, he shouldn’t be able to smell anything.

Surely, he wasn’t still obsessing over that faint scent from yesterday?

“If you’re hitching a ride, then keep up,” Jian Yuheng said as he strode out the door.

Song Ruochen jogged after him.

Downstairs, Assistant Gong opened the car door for them, entered an address into the GPS, and started driving toward the city.

Leaning against the window, Song Ruochen curiously observed the pedestrians outside. The advertisements in this ABO world were quite interesting—he couldn’t get enough of them.

Jian Yuheng’s gaze repeatedly swept over that collar. The design suited Crazy Grape quite well, though it seemed a little loose. It made him want to reach out, hook a finger around it, and tug it just a little.

The little secretary looked colder than usual, a bit more obedient.

Not always a troublemaker. Actually, not bad. Song Ruochen had his quiet, attractive moments—not neurotic, quite lively.

Not… unbearable?

The car stopped in front of the theater. From a distance, Song Ruochen spotted Yan Ci, hopped out, and darted over.

Jian Yuheng: “Hmm…”

Lively. Hyperactive.

Still… acceptable.

“Eldest Young Master has scheduled a golf game with you tonight,” Assistant Gong said. “Should we… go pick him up now?”

Jian Yuheng: “Mm.”

He had almost forgotten—Jian Feng had made plans with him.

Originally, he had come back to the company to seize power. But then he realized no one really wanted to deal with all that mess. Lately, Jian Feng had been inviting him to golf more and more often.

“Alright,” Assistant Gong said, turning the car around.

Ding.

The car reversed a bit, then continued forward.

A moment later—ding.

The car reversed again.

Ding-dang-dang-ding.

As the car rocked back and forth on the road, Jian Yuheng: “:)”