FOBTS CH77

Chapter 77: Their Fingers Gradually Intertwined

“Okay.” Song Ruochen lay down flat, his mouth still stubborn.

“Then let me ask out of curiosity,” he said. “In the pre-marriage exam for bad alphas, which question did you get wrong?”

Jian Yuheng’s hand, which had been lightly playing with his hair, paused slightly. “I don’t remember.”

“Yeah right.” Pinned underneath an alpha, Song Ruochen wriggled out from the front, using both hands and feet. “I saw it. You got a question wrong that I could’ve answered correctly with my toes. You just wanted an excuse to hit me.”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

“Don’t mess around. I’ve never once thought about stringing you up and beating you.” Jian Yuheng spoke in a low voice, grabbing his ankle and easily dragging him back into place.

He really wanted to buy a mousetrap and stick little secretary Song Mouse onto it so he couldn’t run off all the time.

“What are you thinking about?” Song Ruochen asked. “I see evil dark energy in your eyes.”

“…Nothing,” Jian Yuheng said.

He treated himself like an indoor fragrance diffuser, steadily releasing the scent of hawthorn. Finally, the room was filled with an ambiguous atmosphere.

The sash from his pajamas was pulled free and tied around Song Ruochen’s left wrist. Then, Song Ruochen hooked his right hand around Jian Yuheng’s neck and refused to let go. Jian Yuheng could only hold onto the other end of the sash, loop it a few times in his palm, and slowly tighten it.

The sash tied their hands together, gradually intertwining their fingers. Song Ruochen’s gaze turned hazy, a flush spreading unnaturally at the corners of his eyes. The temperature in Jian Yuheng’s palm was burning hot, like a wildfire sweeping through him. He felt parched. His beautifully shaped lips parted slightly, and when he moved his left fingers, Jian Yuheng noticed and pressed down even harder.

“Jian Yuheng,” he asked. “What function of your pheromones is this now?”

Seduction? Intimidation? Comfort?

Otherwise, how could just a kiss on the cheek and a touch at his waist make him want to both curl up and hide and also offer himself up completely?

But this feeling didn’t match any kind of pheromone influence he’d experienced before.

“This is the most wrongly accused hawthorn in history,” Jian Yuheng said.

“…You mean there’s nothing?” Song Ruochen asked.

“Nothing. No function at all,” Jian Yuheng said. “Can’t you feel it? You want me too.”

Song Ruochen: “…”

Maybe he did.

“Then I like Jian Yuheng,” Song Ruochen said.

He placed his free hand on Jian Yuheng’s chest. “Your heart’s beating pretty fast too, Second Young Master.”

Night had fallen. The room was dimly lit. A warm early-spring breeze flowed in through the window, fluttering the edge of the thin blanket on the bed and revealing a flushed ankle marked faintly with red fingerprints. Then the blanket was kicked away completely.

In the quiet of the night, the noises Song Ruochen made were especially obvious.

Song Ruochen: “Ah-oh-uhh… mmwah wahhh.”

Jian Yuheng felt like a kettle had started boiling in the room. Not piercingly loud, but definitely noisy.

Song Ruochen: “…Get lost.”

That “get lost” was weak and feeble, so he said it a second and third time, each quieter and more broken than the last.

Frustrated, Song Ruochen twisted the expensive bed sheets in his long fingers until they were nearly shredded.

Song Ruochen: “W…”

Couldn’t even get the last part out. It was over.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

The cool and beautiful little secretary glared up at him with teary eyes, pouting stubbornly, his gaze full of collapse and condemnation.

Jian Yuheng felt he’d done nothing wrong, but still softened.

There was always a physical difference between AOs, but Song Ruochen seemed especially lacking in stamina—and particularly lazy.

Song Ruochen cursed, and while Jian Yuheng paused, he turned into a crawling creature and tried to escape. But the sash tied around his wrist, still held in Jian Yuheng’s hand, stopped him before he got far.

Song Ruochen: “Wait a second…”

How long had it been already, and Jian Yuheng still hadn’t…

Driven to distraction, Jian Yuheng got out of bed helplessly, grabbed a box of reserved sandwich chocolates from the cabinet, and stuffed it into Song Ruochen’s hands.

“I don’t want it,” Song Ruochen crawled to the foot of the bed, ready to throw it—well, he didn’t have the heart to. He… gently pushed it back. “You think a box of snacks can fool me? Am I some starving ghost?”

“I eat your food because I like you,” Song Ruochen said. “I’m not a man without principles.”

“Our little Song is full of principles,” Jian Yuheng said. “XiaoShi Group can’t function without Secretary Song. I can’t function without Secretary Song. The whole planet can’t function without Secretary Song.”

“Secretary Song is smart, decisive, witty, courageous…” Jian Yuheng added dozens of adjectives. “Song Ruochen is one of a kind.”

Song Ruochen: “0.o?”

“It’s not that exaggerated…” After a few compliments, Song Ruochen felt himself bouncing back. “Second Young Master is… pretty great too.”

Whether it was the compliments or something else, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He started to float a little.

“Ah…” The next moment, he was pulled back into Jian Yuheng’s embrace.

—

That night, Song Ruochen fell asleep very late. And thanks to his complete exhaustion, he slept deeply and soundly.

Until the insistent ringing of his phone finally woke him up.

His eyelids felt heavy, like lifting weights. Song Ruochen struggled to open them and rolled his eyes at the phone disturbing his dream.

“Mm?” He answered groggily.

“Secretary Song! You’re still asleep? Our product launch has gone viral globally! Orders are exploding at XiaoYe, and all the major sales platforms are out of stock! Customers are demanding more—wait a second.” Assistant Gong noticed something. “What happened to your voice?”

“Oh dear, has our little crow of the XiaoShi Group lost his voice?” Assistant Gong asked with concern.

“Just lost my voice,” Song Ruochen said hoarsely. “Say one more word and President Song will make you disappear from XiaoShi.”

“Still threatening people? Keep your words to a minimum,” Assistant Gong said. “Last night you… ah.”

He finally put two and two together. He was the president’s assistant, after all.

“No wonder Second Young Master told me to deliver you a nutritious lunch today,” Assistant Gong said. “Wait and see—I’ll cook it myself.”

Given Assistant Gong’s excellent cooking skills, Song Ruochen smiled happily.

“I want salted egg yolk chicken wings,” he said.

“No problem. I’ll clock out early to buy the ingredients,” Assistant Gong said.

“By the way,” Assistant Gong added excitedly, “Nanchi prepped their launch for ages, published several papers, and still got no attention. Your planning was brilliant—everyone came to us instead. We’re going to get so much bonus money!”

Song Ruochen: “Yay!”

Stock and currency both up. Double victory.

Song Ruochen: “Ow.”

His waist still hurt.

“Let’s agree—next time there’s a conference or business trip, bring me along.” Assistant Gong said. “I’m off to prep for the meeting. After that, I’ll bring you some food.”

Song Ruochen: “Okay~”

Even over the phone, Assistant Gong’s good mood was obvious. Looks like their launch had been a big success.

[Good morning.]

“Morning,” Song Ruochen replied.

He dragged his soft legs over to the water dispenser, poured himself a cup, tossed in a wellness tea bag, and relaxed on the sofa.

Then Song Ruochen stood up.

Song Ruochen: “…”

[You two must have pretty good compatibility, huh?]

“Very good,” he said. “Maybe something else isn’t quite as compatible.”

[…]

Still, now he understood what it meant to be “compatible.” If it didn’t last so long, he’d actually… enjoy it.

But—

Song Ruochen: “:( “

[Poor little grape turned into a ripe red one.]

[It was your first time. Inexperienced alphas are just all brute force, hmph.]

“Until he figures out a solution, I’m not letting him touch me again,” Song Ruochen said coldly.

[So much food on the table. Did Second Young Master get it for you?]

“Maybe? Where is it?” Song Ruochen turned to look.

Not only was there food on the table, but a skateboard was stashed underneath.

“Huh? A college kid’s toy,” Song Ruochen said, squatting to grab it. His waist gave out a little, and he almost fell.

Song Ruochen: “…”

Squatting there, a few images from the night before floated into his mind.

That big liar Jian Yuheng—while whispering the sweetest words in the world—had…

By the end, it was like he was melting under Jian Yuheng’s warmth. And he hadn’t forgotten to part his lips and kiss him either.

“Whatever,” Song Ruochen said. “I’ll find something else to play with.”

—

In XiaoShi Group’s meeting room, before the meeting started, Jian Yuheng pulled up the living room’s security cam feed—still a little worried about Song Ruochen.

Then he saw—

The skateboard he’d carefully picked out had been turned into a scooter. Song Ruochen was sitting on it, sliding around.

Jian Yuheng: “…”

Looks like he’s fine.

Secretary Song sure knows how to make a scene. Even now, Jian Yuheng’s elbow had a paw-shaped imprint where Song Ruochen had grabbed him.

If he hadn’t blocked it in time, it would’ve hit somewhere more dangerous.

Aside from a bit of roughhousing, he felt he’d taken good care of Song Ruochen.

Though his stamina was truly awful. And his endurance too. And he had a temper. But Jian Yuheng didn’t mind.

“Everyone here?” Director Chen asked. “Let’s begin.”

“Mm.” Jian Yuheng closed the monitor, sent Song Ruochen a few emojis, and shifted into meeting mode.

“XiaoShi has done great this quarter,” Director Chen said. “We’ve crushed Nanchi in the entertainment space and pulled ahead in smart tech with innovation and strength.”

“We’re holding this meeting to commend our staff and analyze the success of the launch,” Jian Yuheng said. “Jian Feng, go ahead and present the launch highlights.”

“Got it.” Jian Feng stood up. “Secretary Song, please—”

Assistant Gong: “?”

“Young Master,” Assistant Gong said. “Secretary Song is on leave.”

“Ahem.” Jian Yuheng raised his voice. “I’ll go over the launch highlights myself.”

Jian Feng: “?”

“Where’s my secretary?” Jian Feng asked. “I need one to host our partner guests.”

“Just take me along,” Jian Yuheng said. “I’ll sub in for Secretary Song today. Whatever you need, just ask.”

Jian Feng: “???”

“Second Young Master is thoughtful,” Director Chen said approvingly. “That’s how it should be. We’re all one family—no need to rank ourselves. We all serve XiaoShi.”

Jian Yuheng: “Haha.”

What choice did he have? Secretary Song definitely wasn’t coming in today.

—

Meanwhile, Song Ruochen had dragged a recliner out into the courtyard to sunbathe.

He was covered head to toe in Jian Yuheng’s hawthorn scent, and under the sunlight, it felt warm and toasty.

[Incoming call: Da Zao]

[Rewind card pack arriving in 20 minutes.]

[Incoming call: Meng Yumian]

Song Ruochen rejected both calls and jumped into the group chat.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Wow, your voice,” Yan Ci said. “Second Young Master must be totally melted.”

Song Ruochen: “?”

This melodramatic novel’s protagonist uke is getting more and more indecent.

“Why didn’t he leave a hickey?” Yan Ci said. “He doesn’t love you enough.”

“I should scold him.”

Song Ruochen: “NO!!”

“Don’t…” Song Ruochen said. “It’s just that…”

There were already quite a few, just not that easy to see.

If he stayed longer, they might be seen.

“Alright, alright,” Yan Ci said. “Fuzzy Monster, stop talking already. Our Secretary Song is easily embarrassed.”

Meng Yumian added, “I haven’t even started shipping them yet.”

“Let’s drop the subject.” Meng Yumian said, “Little Grape, Da Zao and I were just browsing a pet store, and we found an especially adorable kitten. We were thinking of buying it for you and Second Young Master.”

“I remember you’re quite fond of cats, aren’t you?” Yan Ci asked.

“Can’t, can’t raise one.” Song Ruochen waved his hand. “Second Young Master is allergic to cat fur.”

Yan Ci: “Huh? I didn’t know that.”

“Then forget it,” Meng Yumian said. “I’ll just take it home myself. We’ll get you something else.”

Downstairs at the Xiaoshi Group building, Meng Yumian and Yan Ci were holding a cat carrier and chatting away.

“What would be a good gift?” Yan Ci mused. “Secretary Song has helped us so much, and we haven’t even had a chance to properly thank him.”

“That’s true,” Meng Yumian agreed. “We should give it some real thought.”

“You two,” Jian Yuheng said as he passed by and stopped, “here to see Song Ruochen? He’s… not feeling too well today, took the day off.”

“I know,” Yan Ci said with a smile. “We were planning to gift you two a kitten, but Secretary Song said you’re allergic to cat fur, so Fuzzy Monster’s taking it home herself.”

“This cat’s pretty cute.” Jian Yuheng opened the carrier and gave the cat a few strokes, then froze.

“What did he say?” Jian Yuheng asked. “I’m allergic to cat fur?”

Yan Ci: “Yep yep! Better safe than sorry, little brother. Let’s go, Fuzzy Monster, let’s go buy a cat tree.”

“Let’s go, let’s go.” Meng Yumian threw an arm around Yan Ci’s shoulder as they left.

In the lobby, Jian Yuheng stood still, searching his memory.

He’d never really been around cats much and had never told Song Ruochen that he was allergic to cat fur.

So—

He quietly sat down in the lobby, facing the sunlight. He spread his fingers and stared at his hand.

A few minutes later, on the back of the hand that had touched the cat fur, several red spots appeared.

Jian Yuheng: “…?”

Jian Feng passed by, then backed up and came over. Seeing him still holding his hand out like that, he thought for a second—then gave him a loud high five.

Jian Yuheng bought a bouquet of flowers and a small cake. When he got home, he found Song Ruochen wearing only a pair of swim trunks, soaking in the middle of his swimming pool.

Through the pale blue surface of the water, Jian Yuheng could clearly see the mottled marks left on Song Ruochen’s chest and waist—marks that he had made.

“You’re back!” Song Ruochen said to the cake.

[Ding-dong.]

Too lazy to swim to the edge, Song Ruochen teleported himself to the poolside and waited for Jian Yuheng to bring the cake over.

Jian Yuheng, who had just made a round trip: “…”

So that’s how that power could be used.