FOBTS CH80

Chapter 80: Becoming Your Secretary

Jian Yuheng: “…”

Jian Yuheng’s voice trailed off.

“You—where exactly did you come back to?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Song Ruochen looked around. “Let me find out.”

“Yan Ci, Chenchen, try this,” Grandma said enthusiastically, turning the lazy Susan so the blueberry yam stopped in front of Song Ruochen and Yan Ci.

“Grandma, you’re the best!” Yan Ci said.

“Thank you,” Song Ruochen nodded politely and elegantly, picking up a piece of blueberry yam.

Song Ruochen: “.”

Jian Yuheng kicked his calf under the table.

“I don’t like it,” Song Ruochen said. “Please don’t project the preferences of internet fans onto Secretary Song. I’m a proper secretary.”

The proper secretary gracefully picked up the public chopsticks, served Yan Ci a piece of grilled fish, weighed it in his mind, then served Meng Yumian a piece of grilled chicken of similar weight.

[Our little grape has been forced to become a human scale.]

“If the timeline reset, wouldn’t I have forgotten everything?” Jian Yuheng asked.

Song Ruochen understood the logic, but when flustered and embarrassed, he’d instinctively spam abilities.

“Like or don’t like what?” Yan Ci patted Song Ruochen. “You two keep whispering. Let me in on it.”

“What are you talking about?” Meng Yumian also leaned over. “I want to hear it too.”

Everyone at the table put down their chopsticks and looked toward Song Ruochen and Jian Yuheng.

Song Ruochen: “…”

“Our Yuheng and Xiao Song have such a good relationship,” Rong Xin said. “They always have so much to talk about.”

“Yuheng, come, have a drink,” said a distant uncle. “It’s been a while since we drank together.”

Jian Yuheng: “:）”

[Timeline Reset Card Reminder: You have a large rewind balance due.]

[Now selecting nearby items for currency conversion to offset the debt.]

Song Ruochen: “Wait—”

Jian Yuheng poured a glass from the bottle… of air.

Jian Yuheng: “…?”

[Shifty eyes + whistling.jpg]

Song Ruochen also shifted his gaze from the glass… to the ceiling.

Jian Yuheng tried pouring again—another full glass of air.

He steeled himself with unwavering resolve. “Alright, Uncle, cheers to you.”

[Second Young Master is calm to the point of being heartbreaking.]

“You have some nerve,” Song Ruochen muttered.

The second family banquet finally ended. Song Ruochen collected several more red envelopes from the Jian family relatives, humming as he headed back to his room.

“Let me put an inhibitor patch on you,” Jian Yuheng said.

Despite all the chaos, he hadn’t forgotten.

Song Ruochen lowered his head, revealing the vulnerable nape of an omega’s neck. The alpha’s fingers gently pressed the patch into place, adjusting its position.

“This hawthorn-scented inhibitor doesn’t smell authentic,” Song Ruochen commented.

“It’s a knockoff. How can it be that authentic?” Jian Yuheng stuck it on and rubbed his thumb over it a few times. “Just to block your sweet grape scent.”

The alpha’s fingers pressed against the back of his neck with a faint heat. Song Ruochen relaxed, eyes half-closed in comfort.

“What were you like when you were out of town, Chenchen?” Jian Yuheng’s hand slid around to rest near Song Ruochen’s collarbone.

“I was a college student,” Song Ruochen said. “Majoring in… screenwriting.”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

Jian Yuheng: “Not a middleman?”

“Under two meters tall, not making a million a month,” Song Ruochen said solemnly. “Very outstanding. High compatibility with Jian Yuheng.”

“Why are you introducing yourself now?” Jian Yuheng’s hand, resting at his collar, slid downward. “By the way, is your world full of cannon fodder characters?”

Song Ruochen didn’t dare move.

His scent still held traces of sweetness. His collar was lifted by deft fingers, exposing creamy white skin.

At his collarbone, the alpha’s hand lingered, gently caressing as though admiring a rare treasure.

“It’s bedtime, Second Young Master,” Song Ruochen reminded. “You have work tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I’ll shower,” Jian Yuheng said, letting go, grabbing his pajamas, and heading into the bathroom.

Song Ruochen lay on the bed, played a few games, reset twice mid-match, turned from dead weight into MVP, and led his team to victory.

“I think I could go pro,” he said, full of confidence.

[You trying to turn Second Young Master into a laggy slideshow?]

[Or reset your timeline into bankruptcy?]

“I’m just imagining things,” Song Ruochen said. “Material for tonight’s dreams.”

He rolled around on the bed and yawned.

“So sleepy,” he muttered. “Why is that villain still not done?”

He glanced at the time. “It’s been an hour. Even the antagonist would’ve turned good by now.”

[If you’re really sleepy, you can borrow another bedroom’s bathroom.]

“No need,” Song Ruochen said. “I’ll go kick the villain out.”

He picked up his pajamas and pushed open the bathroom door—

Song Ruochen: “·.·”

Song Ruochen: “o.o”

Song Ruochen: “0.0”

Jian Yuheng, mid-change, noticed his gaze.

“What are you staring at?” Jian Yuheng asked, suppressing a grin. “It’s not like it’s your first time seeing it.”

“I was looking at the big bathtub,” Song Ruochen said, sounding righteous but unconvincing. “I’m going to shower. You get out.”

“Sure, President Song.” Jian Yuheng wrapped a robe around himself. “Need me to run the water for you?”

“I can do it myself,” Song Ruochen said.

Jian Yuheng left the bathroom in his robe.

Song Ruochen sank into the tub.

Jian Yuheng’s body was like a perfect sculpture from an art textbook. Smooth muscle lines in his arms and calves, radiating power.

Next to the tub, a phone vibrated.

Song Ruochen: “?”

Jian Yuheng’s?

No wonder it took so long—this guy was still playing on his phone while taking a shower.

The message on his screen was from Assistant Gong—

[Assistant Gong]: Second Young Master, here are the search results.

[Assistant Gong]: This year, the most popular gifts among 20-year-old male ABO college students include: commemorative game skins; gaming consoles; limited-edition sneakers; an offer from Xiaoshi.

[Assistant Gong]: Ranked number one is: an offer from Xiaoshi.

Song Ruochen: “……”

[Hahahahahaha]

[That is a pretty nice gift.]

[No wonder it took so long—Second Young Master was picking out a gift for you.]

[The emotional value of this villain is off the charts. As soon as he found out you’re a college guy, he wanted to give you a gift.]

Song Ruochen: “Mm…”

It was this feeling—of always being thought of and held in someone’s heart—that quietly pulled him, step by step, closer to the other man.

He soaked himself until he was as red as a grape, put on his pajamas, walked out of the bathroom, and tossed the phone back to Jian Yuheng.

Jian Yuheng glanced at Assistant Gong’s messages and laughed out loud. “Grape Chen, come here.”

The warm air from the hairdryer softly blew through the omega’s soft black hair. Song Ruochen was fast asleep on Jian Yuheng’s lap.

—

Xiaoshi had been busy lately. After the product launch, order after order poured in. Jian Feng finally carved out a Friday to hold a company-wide meeting.

Song Ruochen arrived late. He originally planned to sit in the back of the conference room and make do, but as soon as he stepped in, several people invited him over.

“Over here.” Team Leader Jin waved. “We’ve got half-baked cheesecake.”

“This way.” From Haochi’s team, Lu Yunye called out, “Chocolate chip cookies—hey, come eat.”

“Here.” Assistant Gong said, “I brought apple pie.”

Song Ruochen was in the mood for apple pie today. He waved to the other two groups and sat down next to Assistant Gong, taking a piece of apple pie.

“Why are you being so friendly today?” Song Ruochen asked. “Like a weasel paying New Year’s greetings to a chicken.”

“I’m going on a business trip to Country A tomorrow,” Assistant Gong said. “I’ll have to trouble Secretary Song to cover for me.”

“It’s no trouble,” Song Ruochen said. “I’ll have the two presidents take good care of me.”

Assistant Gong: “?”

[Ding-dong.]

Song Ruochen corrected himself with a straight face. “I’ll take good care of the two presidents.”

Someone behind him poked his back and handed him a few boxes of snacks.

Jian Yuheng entered just in time to witness this large-scale snack taxation scene. The corner of his mouth lifted as he carried his clipboard and stepped up to the front.

“The Xiaoshi Group’s Q1 employee meeting is now officially in session,” Jian Yuheng said. “In the first quarter, we’ve achieved great results across all fields.”

“This wouldn’t have been possible without the hard work and support of all our employees,” he continued.

The audience broke into applause.

“Why aren’t you clapping?” Gong Huo asked Song Ruochen. “Too cool to conform?”

Song Ruochen: “No.”

He didn’t feel like he had contributed much—just did a bit of “abstract” work.

“For those who contributed to this spring launch, the company will issue product bonuses,” Jian Yuheng said. “In addition, there have been some organizational changes.”

“Secretary Song Ruochen has provided exceptional solutions in both the entertainment and functional product departments,” Jian Yuheng said. “From now on, he will also serve as the Creative Director of the Advertising Department.”

More applause from the audience.

“Nan Chi hired so many teams, but in the end, he still lost to our Secretary Song,” an employee said.

“I always knew Secretary Song could do it,” another said. “Who says you need experience? He’s the most reliable person at Xiaoshi.”

“Bai Geyi from the advertising department kept saying Secretary Song wasn’t up to it,” someone whispered. “His face must really hurt now…”

Bai Geyi: “…”

Could you not say it even louder?

“I got promoted too, hehe,” Assistant Gong said happily. “Second Young Master said I was great at keeping things on track, so now I’ll be hosting all future company launch events.”

[.]

[A perfect match for the job.]

[What a well-deserved promotion. Now our Grape is truly Xiaoshi’s main artery.]

The “main artery’s” work enthusiasm was briefly elevated. Just after lunch, before Assistant Gong even left, Song Ruochen was already rushing off to start his “shift.”

In the office, Jian Yuheng stood facing the floor-to-ceiling windows, his back to the door, flipping through a business magazine.

Song Ruochen pushed open the door and walked in.

“Assistant Gong, one coffee,” Jian Yuheng said without turning around. “Milk, less sugar, not too hot.”

He waited a moment. Behind him came the soft clink of a coffee cup placed on the desk.

“Assistant Gong, export a data analysis report based on the numbers Haochi sent this week,” Jian Yuheng said.

Song Ruochen: “0.o?”

Yeah… didn’t know how to do that. Skip for now.

The boss didn’t give the employee all his money, so the employee didn’t need to do all the boss’s work.

[√]

“Assistant,” Jian Yuheng continued, “clean the windows, sweep the floor, organize the bookshelf, and then write ten reports.”

“Do it yourself, Second Young Master,” Song Ruochen dropped the act. “I quit.”

Jian Yuheng laughed out loud.

“You just had to play assistant the moment you walked in,” he said.

“When did you realize it was me?” Song Ruochen asked.

“The moment you came in,” Jian Yuheng said honestly. “Assistant Gong closes the door gently—not with a kick.”

Song Ruochen: “……”

“Just bear with it.” Song Ruochen said. “Assistant Gong’s on a business trip. I’m covering for him this week.”

He straightened his tie.

“This week, Second Young Master only has Secretary Song at your service,” he said.

“Is that so?” A smile laced Jian Yuheng’s voice. “Then Secretary Song it is.”

“Secretary Song made you coffee,” Song Ruochen said. “Second Young Master, please give it a try.”

The coffee looked like coffee. The latte art was definitely… some kind of latte art. Jian Yuheng picked up the cup and took a sip.

“How is it?” Song Ruochen asked expectantly.

Jian Yuheng: “Rewind.”

[Ding-dong.]

Song Ruochen: “……”

“Let me try.” He walked over, picked up the cup, “…it’s weird.”

“Too much sugar,” Jian Yuheng commented. “My life isn’t bitter—don’t need that much sugar.”

“I’ll make a new one,” Song Ruochen offered.

Jian Yuheng: “:(”

That means he’d have to be the test subject again.

Just as Song Ruochen carried the cup and took two steps out, he heard Jian Yuheng’s voice behind him: “Stop.”

Song Ruochen stopped in his tracks. “Second Young Master, any orders?”

Jian Yuheng took the cup from his hand, set it aside, then wrapped an arm around his waist and gently lifted him, setting him down on the cluttered office desk.

Wearing a crisp white shirt and neatly tied tie, Secretary Song blinked and gave a look of innocent confusion.

“As my secretary, you can’t even make a proper cup of coffee?” Jian Yuheng casually tugged at his tie. “Secretary Song, have you thought about how you’ll be punished?”

Song Ruochen: “……”

The desk was piled high with stuff, and he didn’t dare move for fear of knocking things over.

The setting sun poured through the windows, casting its light over both of them.

“Punish… punish me by letting me leave work early.” Song Ruochen turned his head, said guiltily, “I’ll reflect on my actions.”