FOBTS CH49

Chapter 49: Scratch to Reveal

A flustered Song Ruochen fumbled as he clumsily tried to unbuckle Jian Yuheng’s belt, struggling to figure out its overly complicated mechanism.

“You heard me—I said tie.” Song Ruochen attempted to clarify, distancing himself from any potential misunderstandings. “Song Secretary’s integrity is beyond question. Don’t let your mind wander.”

Jian Yuheng: “.”

I could place a turtle here, and even it would be more upright than your so-called integrity, Secretary Song.

Jian Yuheng: “Can’t you just—”

“Shut up.” Song Ruochen’s ears reddened. “Almost done.”

He leaned in further, examining the intricate belt buckle. “How much did this thing cost?”

“8,000.”

So expensive. That’s 8 seconds worth of save-and-rewind coins.

“8 seconds—real man.” Song Ruochen muttered.

Jian Yuheng: “皿”

Secretary Song’s pale fingertips pressed against the black leather, adjusting the buckle strap with a firm tug.

Jian Yuheng bared his teeth in pain. “Song Ruochen… are you trying to squeeze my soul out of my body?”

“Loosen up, Secretary Song.” Jian Yuheng directed. “Or are you planning to commit murder?”

Useless at everything.

At that moment, Jian Feng pushed open the door, holding a stack of reports.

“Xiao Yu, I feel like something’s off. Can you take a look?”

Jian Feng: “?”

Jian Feng: “…?”

“All done.” Song Ruochen, ever the considerate one, neatly fastened the belt and sat upright.

“What’s wrong? Let me see.” Jian Yuheng shot a glare at his little secretary before reaching for the documents.

Jian Feng stood frozen for several seconds, then silently handed him a fistful of air.

“Brother Jian is so petty,” Song Ruochen whispered to the system, Chirpy. “I even buckled it back properly for him.”

[You could’ve just undone the effect of the Ding-le-ge-dang Buff. Why insist on using your hands when you could’ve just used your mouth (.)]

Song Ruochen: “……”

Crap, I forgot.

He buried his head, drowning in the overwhelming wave of secondhand embarrassment.

Meanwhile, the villain was too busy to remind him.

Jian Yuheng flipped through the documents handed to him, his expression darkening.

“This time, the leaked information was Xioshi Group’s quarterly event proposal. These three employees don’t have access to files at this level.” Jian Yuheng stated. “Which means…”

Song Ruochen: “0.o An inside job?”

“Mm. Song Secretary is quite sharp.” Jian Yuheng said. “These three will need to be terminated, and the management team needs further investigation.”

Song Ruochen: “:)”

He called me smart.

[……]

“Yes, I’ll handle it.” Jian Feng hurried off with the reports.

“President Jian, I’ll assist you in the investigation.” Song Ruochen, seeing no way to justify his actions, simply opted to flee.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

[Awoo~~~ awooo~~ awoooo!]

His phone rang.

Opening the chat, he saw—

[Corporate Slave]: Assisting your boss in adjusting his attire is also part of a secretary’s duties.

[Corporate Slave]: Don’t be shy.

[Boss]: Since when does “attire” include belts?

[Boss]: Secretary Song didn’t do a great job. You should practice a few more times when you get the chance.

[Corporate Slave]: I’m very busy, Mr. Villain. Please don’t waste Secretary Song’s precious work hours.

Scoundrels like this should just be tied up and kept restrained until they’ve properly reflected on their actions.

Jian Yuheng let out an incredulous laugh, then frowned.

“…Ugh.” He pressed a hand to his forehead.

His brain, entirely against his will, kept replaying that scene of Song Ruochen fastening his belt. The contrast between the black leather and the omega’s snow-white fingers was striking—an image that struck deep into an alpha’s instincts.

Especially when Song Ruochen had bowed his head, revealing the delicate curve of his neck. The faint, bluish mark from the suppression injection still lingered at the nape—almost as if all it would take was a single bite to leave his own mark there, however briefly.

Just like that, he could have his own little cluster of beautiful grapes.

Jian Yuheng: “%@￥#Q”

Irritability, aggression, arrogance, possessiveness—every single one of an alpha’s more unspeakable traits flashed through his mind.

Jian Yuheng: “:(”

Why does it feel like my susceptibility period is approaching…?

[The villain’s ** meter has increased to 400%.]

[The villain’s resentment level has dropped to 40%.]

“What are these stars?” Song Ruochen asked.

[Star.]

Song Ruochen: “0.o? I meant those two asterisks.”

[No clue. The main system went on a date. Let me try scratching it off with a knife.]

[(Ear-piercing scraping noises) (Nails on a chalkboard sound)]

Song Ruochen: “0.o~~~~”

“By the way, Secretary Tong.” Song Ruochen asked, “Was there anything about the Xiaoshi Group’s confidential information leak in the original book?”

[To be honest, I just searched through it, and the book doesn’t mention this part at all.]

Song Ruochen also had no recollection of it.

[There are only two possibilities: either it was insignificant to the original plot, or the plot in the book has changed because of your presence.]

[It’s hard to judge right now. Let’s take it one step at a time~]

Song Ruochen took a step, looked around, and picked up a bottle of mineral water.

Song Ruochen: “Here, trade for some time.”

[…]

After eating and drinking his fill, Song Ruochen followed Jian Feng to the HR department to gather information. While there, he also checked in on a few collaborative streamers they had recently recruited.

“Secretary Song!” A food streamer greeted him from afar. “I successfully got into Xiaoshi!”

“During the streamer training program, can we come to Xiaoshi often?” a talent streamer asked.

“Of course.” Song Ruochen nodded. “Since you all got into Xiaoshi based on your abilities, you are now part of Xiaoshi.”

“Come on, Secretary Song, it’s mealtime. Let’s go to the cafeteria.” A beauty streamer suggested.

A large group of newcomers pushed Song Ruochen out of the office.

Song Ruochen: “0.o?”

He had only met these people during their interviews, and afterward, he had only used their meal cards in the cafeteria. Why were they all so enthusiastic when they saw him?

Jian Yuheng had spent the entire morning coordinating with his team to revise their proposals and handling the aftermath of the event plan leak. During his lunch break, just as he was finishing up, he spotted a noisy crowd surrounding Song Ruochen, waiting for the elevator.

“Secretary Song, what do you like to do for fun on weekends?”

“Secretary Song, what games do you like to play?”

A chorus of voices chattered at once.

Jian Yuheng: “:(“

Noisy.

The group of streamers crowded around the rice counter, while Song Ruochen went to the porridge section, followed closely by an “A.”

“Why are you drinking porridge in the middle of the day?” Jian Yuheng asked.

“I had breakfast too late.” Song Ruochen said. “Not that hungry.”

“You came to the office at 9:30, finished breakfast at 10, and now you’re back in the cafeteria at 11. Good thing you’re not hungry, or I’d think you were the embodiment of a gluttonous beast.” Jian Yuheng remarked.

Song Ruochen: “^ v ^”

“Is Zha-ge also having porridge?” Song Ruochen asked.

“Zha-ge… is also not that hungry.” Jian Yuheng replied. “Work keeps me fulfilled; it provides nourishment for my soul.”

Song Ruochen: “That’s called having multiple meals a day.”

Each holding a bowl of porridge, they sat by the window.

Song Ruochen was glued to his phone, constantly sending messages.

“Who are you talking to?” Jian Yuheng asked casually.

“Ah,” Song Ruochen replied, “I’m plotting a conspiracy.”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

What a… bright and open conspiracy.

As his brain sizzled, Jian Yuheng recalled something from the morning.

“That streamer?” Jian Yuheng asked. “Why are you targeting him? Because he… bullied your sister-in-law?”

“Yep, he’s a bad guy.” Song Ruochen said.

However, he wasn’t in the mood to deal with Zou Renhang at the moment. Instead, he opened the private messages of Xia Xiaocheng’s live streaming account.

The reserve commentator was diligently streaming during the noon slot.

“Xiao Zou said there’s been ghostly activity again?” Xia Xiaocheng chatted with the audience. “Ah… I haven’t encountered anything myself.”

“Are you going to scare him too?” Jian Yuheng asked.

Song Ruochen shook his head. “I ran out of silly coins.”

[Of course, the last one was spent on helping the Second Young Master undress.]

“?” Song Ruochen couldn’t listen anymore. “Did you even go to school? Illiterate.”

[(Grinding knife sounds) (Fingernails scraping a blackboard sound)]

Song Ruochen had spoken that out loud, and Jian Yuheng heard it.

So Jian Yuheng pulled out his phone and showed Song Ruochen his certificates. “I’m not illiterate. I graduated from a prestigious university. Here’s my diploma. Besides that, I also have a second major and its certification. My ABO premarital exam score was practically perfect. In addition, I have skiing, diving, and skydiving certificates. If I get the chance, I’d like to get a chef’s certificate too.”

“A chef’s certificate sounds great.” Song Ruochen commented. “I think it has high practical value.”

Jian Yuheng: “:D”

Then, he watched as Song Ruochen dumped over a hundred thousand yuan worth of gifts into Xia Xiaocheng’s livestream.

[Song Ruochen]: Handsome guy, add me on WeChat?

[Xia Xiaocheng]: Sure, Daddy, my WeChat ID is v****.

[Ding.]

The hundred thousand yuan returned to Song Ruochen’s account.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

“He’s not an idiot,” Jian Yuheng said. “He won’t add you.”

“It’s fine. I just wanted to send a message.” Song Ruochen entered the account ID, selected “Add Friend,” and attached a note—

[Brother Xia, hang in there. Just hold on for a few more years, and once Brother Hawthorn retires, you can be the official commentator!]

“Done.” Song Ruochen began sipping his porridge.

It was a little too hot, and he choked, coughing repeatedly.

“Is your mouth and brain degenerating at the same time?” Jian Yuheng moved closer, raised his hand to pat Song Ruochen’s back, and picked up the orange juice he had bought, helping him take a sip.

“Gulp, gulp.” Song Ruochen stopped coughing.

Jian Yuheng pulled out a tissue and wiped the moisture from the corner of his lips.

” Zha-ge, what does your dad smell like?” Song Ruochen suddenly asked.

“Chenpi (dried tangerine peel).” Jian Yuheng replied.

Song Ruochen froze. “Then your whole family must be pretty easy to digest…”

“Really?” Jian Yuheng suddenly raised his hand and gently covered his mouth. “What kind of feeling?”

There was a faint trace of pheromones on Jian Yuheng’s fingertips—a sweet yet slightly sour scent. Song Ruochen thought it smelled like a hawthorn candy ball coated in sugar.

Song Ruochen’s cheeks flushed slightly, and his gaze turned dazed for a moment. “Suddenly, I want to eat a whole cow.”

Song Ruochen: “:0”

Song Ruochen: “Such a practical pheromone.”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

Technically speaking, pheromones were only meant for attraction, suppression, and soothing—they didn’t have any other functions.

But if Song Ruochen thought they did, then so be it. As long as Grape was happy.

As Song Ruochen spoke, his fingertips lightly brushed against the Omega’s lips—warm and soft.

__

After taking a nap, Song Ruochen helped Assistant Gong finish a cup of milk tea, then went to the office to fan some air-conditioning toward Jian Feng.

As it neared the end of the workday, he sent a monthly report to the board, packed his things, and prepared to head home.

“President Jian.” He knocked, then pushed open the door. “I’m getting off work now.”

Song Ruochen: “Huh?”

Standing in the middle of the office were Yan Ci and Jian Feng.

Yan Ci: “0.0…?”

“What’s wrong, Madam?” Song Ruochen asked.

“Did you see this?” Yan Ci held up his phone, showing a photo to Jian Feng. “You didn’t say anything—are you actually bothered by it? You’re unhappy, aren’t you? Things aren’t what you think—”

Jian Feng: “Yan Ci, I don’t mind…”

“You don’t mind? Then do you not love me?” Yan Ci said. “As soon as the rumor came out, you said you wouldn’t come home for dinner.”

Jian Feng: “I didn’t… Yan Ci, if you are upright, you need not fear shadows.”

“Chenchen.” Yan Ci pounced over and hugged Song Ruochen.

Song Ruochen (hp -50): “…”

So we’re following a script now? That photo—the one causing this “argument.”

“Brother, brother.” The door was pushed open, and Jian Yuheng appeared at the entrance. “I’m here to visit again. Brotherly love, yeah?”

Jian Yuheng: “Huh, everyone’s here?”

“President Jian,” Song Ruochen said. “What’s the point of having a mouth if you’re not going to use it? Just to eat?”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

Jian Feng: “…”

“Do you really think that staying silent means you’ll have an airtight alibi? The internet is far more complicated than that.” Song Ruochen said. “If I were your great-grandmother, I’d smack you in your sleep so you’d learn how to speak up.”

Jian Yuheng: “……” The most polite tone, the harshest words.

Song Ruochen felt that not everyone could be like Jian Feng—able to trust himself, trust Yan Ci, and trust a secretary who was always up to nonsense.

People grew up in different environments. Yan Ci was bound to be sensitive, fragile, and insecure.

“And you, Da Zao Yan,” Song Ruochen poked Yan Ci. “Listen with more patience. Let him finish speaking.”

Song Ruochen: “President Jian, go ahead.”

“Xiao Ci, I was a little bothered…” Jian Feng admitted. “When you walked in, I had just seen your photo with that commentator.”

Yan Ci: “0.0”

“But I have always trusted you. That’s what I meant—you should’ve let me finish.” Jian Feng continued, “Besides, that commentator who posted the picture and suggestive words—Zou Renhang, was it? He’s being accused of having mental issues today. The internet says nothing he says is credible.”

Song Ruochen opened his mouth, about to speak.

“Just now, his peers exposed a lot of dirt on him,” Jian Feng added. “Apparently, a friend stabbed him in the back?”

Song Ruochen: “:)”

They were all fighting for a commentator position. Rather than bringing down Yan Ci, why not go after Zou Renhang, who was already accused of mental instability?

He figured Xia Xiaocheng understood this principle well enough.

As for being backstabbed by a friend—Zou Renhang could enjoy that experience for himself.

“President Jian, I’m off work now,” Song Ruochen said. “You and Madam enjoy your time together.”

[Little Grape, the god of handling family affairs.]

[Little Grape, the god of dealing with troublemakers.]

Song Ruochen strolled back to his secretary’s office, planning to sit for a while before leaving.

[I’m exhausted. It won’t scrape off.]

“Still not done?” Song Ruochen asked. “You’ve been scraping all day.”

[Why don’t you try it?]

“I can try?” Song Ruochen asked.

[You can. I’ll drop it for you.]

Clang. Clang. Two objects appeared on Song Ruochen’s desk.

One was a familiar small knife. The other was an iron plate.

The plate had Jian Yuheng’s name on it, along with details like age, height, weight, resentment value, and ** value.

“Interesting.” Song Ruochen picked up the small knife. “Let me scratch off a prize.”

He started scraping: “Love… what?”

Love? That made sense—villains had plenty of love.

Love and care? Love and care for the environment? Haha.

He scraped off the text covering the words.

Jian Yuheng

Love-Desire Value 500%

Song Ruochen: “?????”

[……????]