FOBTS CH33

Chapter 33: The Little Secretary’s Birthday Gift

This car ride was so shaky that Jian Yuheng’s gaze gradually turned dull—he was about to fall asleep right on the main road.

Seriously… the moment he took his eyes off Song Ruochen, that guy would start causing trouble.

Had he known earlier, he would have stayed behind to watch the play with him.

“Second Young Master,” Assistant Gong, ever perceptive, noticed the eerily calm madness on his boss’s face. “Would you like me to speed up a bit?”

Jian Yuheng: “No need.”

Driving slowly and getting reversed—this was a kiddie ride.

Driving fast and getting reversed—that would be a brain-blending, cytoplasm-separating spin-dry cycle.

“Just drive slowly,” Jian Yuheng said. “Make sure my body and mind stay safe.”

Assistant Gong: “?”

—

At the City Theater, Song Ruochen was focused on the play.

The musical’s stage was quite large. If he looked at the east side, he couldn’t keep up with the west. If he focused on the stage, he lost track of the lyrics. So he had no choice but to rewind in his mind from time to time to catch up.

[Smart Grape, master of reverse mode.]

The tickets had been bought by Chen Wu, and their seats were in the very first row. When Song Ruochen turned his head, he saw Da Zao sitting upright and proper, as if attending a lecture.

“Madam,” Song Ruochen whispered, “we’re here to relax. No need to be so tense.”

Noticing their conversation, Uncle Jian Shi shot them a disapproving look, as if to say, You’re being inappropriate.

“Madam, let me ask you something.” Song Ruochen lowered his voice. “You’re cautious about everything—does that stop him from making things difficult for you?”

Yan Ci: “0.0”

Yan Ci: “…It seems like he still makes things difficult.”

“Right.” Song Ruochen said. “Since he’s going to make things difficult for you anyway, you might as well be full of flaws so he can’t keep up.”

Yan Ci: “…”

“But, Little Grape, Uncle is an elder,” Yan Ci hesitated.

“Someone respected for their virtue is called an elder. Someone who simply uses their decades of seniority to boss others around is just an old fogey,” Song Ruochen said.

Da Zao finally started slouching in his seat, and Song Ruochen leaned back comfortably as well.

The play was actually quite good—it told the love story of a bickering AO couple, with several catchy musical numbers. By the end of it, even the system had learned the tunes.

When the performance ended, the audience exited in an orderly manner. Yan Ci held onto Song Ruochen’s sleeve as they followed the crowd.

“Little Grape, are you in heat?” Yan Ci asked. “Your scent-blocking collar is just a basic model. I have plenty of new, stylish ones at home—I’ll find one for you later.”

Song Ruochen: “?”

“There are different styles of this thing?” He had just grabbed the cheapest one at the pharmacy.

“This is part of fashion too!” Yan Ci said. “I have a white bandage-style one and a black leather one—both would suit you.”

“Do they have glow-in-the-dark ones?” Song Ruochen’s eyes lit up.

“…No,” Yan Ci said. “Little Grape, your taste is so weird.”

“Just walk,” Uncle’s voice came from behind them. “Stop whispering. Yan Ci, be mindful.”

“Is Uncle’s etiquette guide only visible to Yan Ci?” Song Ruochen asked.

Uncle: “…Song Secretary should also be mindful.”

“Mr. Jian, you must be joking,” Song Ruochen said. “You don’t pay my salary, yet you’re setting rules for me?”

Uncle: “…”

“Song Secretary,” Jian Shi said. “I have no authority over you, but Yan Ci married into the Jian family. Every word and action of his is watched by outsiders. I’m doing this for his own good.”

“Oh, so you truly believe that restricting and suppressing someone at every turn is for their own good?” Song Ruochen said. “It seems like your head is just sitting on your neck for height purposes.”

Uncle: “I—damn it, I—”

“Madam Chen,” Song Ruochen turned to the grandmother of the play’s main lead. “Uncle is cursing in public—so uncultured. Who would dare follow his etiquette rules?”

“Jian Shi,” Chen Wu smiled briefly at Song Ruochen before turning to her incompetent eldest son. “Stop picking on the younger generation all the time.”

Jian Shi: “…”

Frustrating.

In the past, he could scold Yan Ci however he wanted. Yan Ci was soft-tempered, never resisted, and almost never complained.

His influence in Xiaoshi Group had gradually faded, and he couldn’t find a sense of accomplishment in the company anymore. But with Yan Ci, he could at least compensate for that. Yet somehow, at some point, the always aloof, otherworldly Song Secretary had started protecting Yan Ci?

[Rewind Coin received: 20 minutes.]

[Da Zao dropped a 5-minute Rewind Sand Coin for you.]

“This coin is pretty useless,” Song Ruochen muttered, looking at his palm.

Near the theater was a shopping street, and from a distance, Song Ruochen caught the scent of popcorn from a nearby stall.

“Chenchen, it’s still early. Come to my place, I’ll get you—”

Yan Ci turned to find Song Ruochen had vanished from his side.

A dozen meters away, Song Ruochen stood in front of the popcorn stall, studying the menu.

“Yan Ci, go buy some too,” Chen Wu said. “Young people all like sweet snacks.”

For once, Chen Wu seemed in a good mood and bought popcorn for the two omegas as well as her useless eldest son.

“I’ll share my strawberry-flavored one with you,” Yan Ci handed over a paper bag. “Fuzzy Monster never gave you any, right?”

Song Ruochen: “…”

Balancing relationships was so hard.

His fingers twitched, and he accidentally flicked the Rewind Sand Coin from his hand.

The shiny little coin arced through the air and landed right in Uncle’s bag of popcorn.

Song Ruochen: “Oh…”

Jian Shi, feeling hungry, opened the bag and poured a handful of popcorn into his mouth, chewing—

“Shit.” He bit down on an unpopped corn kernel and raged, “My tooth!”

“What’s wrong with you?!” Chen Wu snapped. “Where’s your etiquette?”

Song Ruochen: “…”

He averted his gaze guiltily.

—

At 10 p.m., Jian Feng and Jian Yuheng finished their golf game, and Assistant Gong drove them to Jian Feng’s residence.

“Brother, come up for a bit?” Jian Feng invited. “I don’t think you’ve visited since I got married.”

“Sure,” Jian Yuheng considered. “I also wanted to discuss the Haochi project with you.”

The two entered the courtyard one after the other. Jian Feng pushed open the door—

The living room table was cluttered with snacks. Song Ruochen sat on the sofa with his head lowered, while Yan Ci was fastening a pale purple collar around his neck.

“You’re back?” Song Ruochen said. “Have a seat, gentlemen.”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

Had he taken over the house?

Jian Feng casually tidied up a few snack wrappers, then opened a cabinet and took out more snacks. “Song Secretary, want some yogurt? There’s fresh stock in the fridge.”

“I already got some for Chenchen,” Yan Ci said, tightening the collar.

“It’s choking me,” Song Ruochen said. “Feels like wearing a sweater backward—it’s suffocating.”

“…Then come to my room, I’ll adjust it for you,” Yan Ci said. “This one looks the best.”

He stuffed two fruit jellies into Song Ruochen’s pocket and led him away.

The living room was left to the two returning alphas.

“Brother, have a seat first,” Jian Feng said. “I’ll go brew some tea.”

Jian Yuheng hummed in acknowledgment and sat where Song Ruochen had just been.

The pale purple collar actually suited the little secretary’s skin tone. It looked much better than the standard one he had worn earlier. But if Jian Yuheng had to choose, he thought a pink, gauzy one might also look nice…

Shut up!

Was he seriously spending his time picking out scent-blocking collars for an omega?

The air seemed to carry a faint, elusive scent of grapes, but judging by his brother’s reaction, he clearly hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

Did my nose stop working? Jin Yuheng wondered.

Or… had he been entangled in the grape scent?

“Bro, have some fruit.” Jin Feng brought over a platter.

Jin Yuheng was deep in thought. He smiled and accepted the plate.

Jin Feng: “…”

In the bedroom, Yan Ci found a rather nice-looking bag and stuffed all sorts of little neck rings from his stash into it.

“I also have lots of pretty blocking patches.” Yan Ci rummaged through his things. “I’ll find them for you. Some have amazing craftsmanship.”

“Da Zao,” Song Ruochen asked, “After you take a suppressant injection during your heat, how long does it last?”

“A month,” Yan Ci replied. “But I haven’t used one in a long time.”

[Da Zao has a husband.]

[This is an ABO world, after all. A single bite works best.]

“Suppressants are only temporary. Use them sparingly,” Yan Ci advised with deep meaning. “Otherwise, one day, they might not work.”

“Besides, suppressants affect different people in different ways.” Yan Ci continued, “I’ve heard that some Omegas with genetic disorders gradually become immune. Those Omegas apparently need an Alpha with an extremely high compatibility rate and exceptional stamina!”

Song Ruochen: “…”

M-Me?

So the one failing wasn’t the suppressant—it was him?

“Found them!” Yan Ci said. “These are limited editions, super pretty! I’ll stuff in a few more for you.”

“Madam,” Song Ruochen said, “not too many. I only have one neck.”

“Try this one!” Yan Ci pulled out another. “This one is absolutely gorgeous!”

In the living room, Jin Yuheng drank three cups of cold tea. As the clock struck midnight, Jin Feng was passed out on the couch, and the bedroom door finally opened.

“Secretary Song, come again next time,” Yan Ci said.

“Sister-in-law, go rest,” Jin Yuheng said. “I’ll take Secretary Song home.”

Yan Ci: “0.0*”

Jin Yuheng: “…”

Jin Yuheng shut the door. Jin Feng rubbed his eyes and sat up.

“Did Secretary Song and my brother leave separately?” he asked.

Yan Ci: “Together!”

Jin Feng: “That’s not even the same direction. Must’ve been separately.”

Yan Ci: “Together. 0.0…”

Outside the door, Jin Yuheng glanced at Song Ruochen. In just a short while, he’d changed neck rings again—now it was a pale pink one with tassels.

Purple still suited grapes better, didn’t it? Jin Yuheng pondered.

Yan Ci’s taste only fit a well-behaved grape, but Jin Yuheng figured a deep purple one would suit a chaotic grape better. A black leather one would go with a dark gold grape.

Ha.

[Warning! The affection score between the main couple dropped by 5 points.]

Song Ruochen: “?”

Ding.

Jin Yuheng: “…?”

He returned to the couch.

What happened? Not having fun anymore?

“President Jin.” Song Ruochen lightly patted the sleeping Jin Feng awake. “I’m leaving now. Remember to take care of Madam tonight.”

Jin Feng: “…Okay.”

Song Ruochen left feeling reassured.

“What caused the deduction?” Outside, Song Ruochen reviewed the situation with the system. “The main lead isn’t allowed to sleep?”

[No idea, no idea.]

[Tired now, let’s go home. There’s an Alpha boy band concert the day after tomorrow!]

“Then at noon the day after tomorrow, we’ll go to Fuzzy Monster’s class reunion first, then to the concert.” Song Ruochen planned the schedule.

Assistant Gong had gone home earlier, so only Jin Yuheng’s car remained outside.

“Second Young Master,” Song Ruochen said, “I’ll assist you in driving.”

Jin Yuheng: “…”

Just say you want a ride—why make it sound so dignified?

Jin Yuheng rolled his eyes and drove to a spot near Song Ruochen’s home.

“Get out,” Jin Yuheng said coldly.

Song Ruochen: “?”

Here? There were still 500 meters to his place.

Song Ruochen tilted his head slightly, pretending to consider it.

“Second Young Master,” Song Ruochen said, “My mind is still occupied with Xiaoshi matters. If I accidentally fall on the way, how much would Xiaoshi owe me in compensation?”

Song Ruochen: “I’d need lost wages, emotional damages, and medical expenses.”

Jin Yuheng: “：）”

As expected.

A clingy grape.

“No lost wages,” Jin Yuheng smirked and drove all the way to Song Ruochen’s building.

—

By the time Song Ruochen got home, it was nearly midnight. After showering and drying his hair, he rolled around on the bed, feeling temporarily awake and energetic.

The system was also alert, chatting with him for a while.

“System,” Song Ruochen asked, “Three years from now, when we find that 0.5, how should we apologize?”

[You can start drafting the apology letter now.]

[Better to be prepared.]

[0.5 will definitely forgive us.]

“Alright.” Song Ruochen sat up in bed and opened an app.

[Boss]: What is it?

[Corporate Slave]: Do you have an apology letter template?

[Boss]: What happened? Who do you need to apologize to?

[Corporate Slave]: Just being prepared.

[Corporate Slave]: Thanks, Godfather.

[Boss]: [General Apology Letter Template]

[Boss]: Sleep early. Don’t disturb me.

“System,” Song Ruochen suddenly remembered something. “Tomorrow is Second Young Master’s birthday banquet. I hope my proposal satisfies him.”

[Who would dare say our little grape’s proposal isn’t good?!]

“I heard the villain, Hawthorn, likes wood carving,” Song Ruochen pulled out a piece of wood. “I’ll check a tutorial and carve one for him.”

Wood carving was a delicate craft that required getting it right in one go, but since Song Ruochen had the system, he could slowly refine it.

[Let’s get to work!]

[But can’t you just buy a ready-made one?]

“I don’t want to spend money,” Song Ruochen said.

As midnight approached, Jin Yuheng stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, a smile forming at the corner of his lips.

Another year had passed, and he was another year older. This past year, he had returned to the country, reclaimed control of Xiaoshi (which no longer felt that special), and met a lot of new people—including one particularly fun, lively little nutcase.

The clock struck twelve. Jin Yuheng turned a year older.

He put on a mature smile: “：）”

He was already older than that little secretary, and now he had gained another year. From now on, he wouldn’t bicker with Song Ruochen over trivial matters.

At most, he’d make him copy lines as punishment—but no more making him stand in the corner.

Ding.

Jin Yuheng: “…”

He lost a year.

Jin Yuheng waited patiently to grow again. Soon, the clock struck twelve once more.

He was older now, a mature adult.

It was time to have an Omega of his own. If Song Ruochen really liked him that much, if he really wanted to stick so close, then there was nothing he could do about it. He needed to seriously think about…

Ding.

He lost a year again.

Jin Yuheng teetered on the edge of his birthday, growing up one moment and regressing the next.

Jin Yuheng: “…”

Screw maturity. He wasn’t mature anymore.