FOBTS CH9

Before today, anyone who said, “Life is a wilderness,” would not have convinced Jian Yuheng.

Now he believed it—anything was possible. He had even been turned into a ghost loop video.

Jian Yuheng, who had been stuck in place for far too long, thought, “:)… :)”

Over on Song Ruochen’s side, after another two cries of “Ahhh!” the glass cup shattered into pieces on the floor.

Alright, Jian Yuheng waited a few seconds and was finally “released from prison.”

The door handle was within reach. As he opened the door, he glanced back. Secretary Song was crouched on the floor, studying the shards of glass.

“Don’t touch those shards,” Jian Yuheng called out.

“You don’t understand,” Song Ruochen said coolly. “I’m good at finding sugar in glass shards.”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

The long white rabbit ears drooped over his shoulders as Song Ruochen reached out toward the glittering glass shards. With a sharp snap, a hand grabbed his wrist and yanked him up from the floor.

The omega’s palm was slightly red from the burn.

“Secretary Song,” Jian Yuheng said coldly, “Go wash up, or I’ll dock your performance bonus for the month.”

Song Ruochen lazily lifted his eyelids. His usually star-bright eyes were now hazy with a thin mist from the drunkenness.

He brushed off Jian Yuheng, washed up on his own, and then flopped onto the bed with a loud thud.

[Emergency Task: Care for a Drunk Omega (1/1)]

Whoever claimed that all secretaries to CEOs could hold their liquor—whoever that was—nobody should dare force Secretary Song to drink ever again.

As Jian Yuheng walked out, he paused for a moment over the pile of shattered glass on the floor. After two seconds of silence, he went to a corner, grabbed a broom and dustpan, and cleaned up the shards.

His phone vibrated. He pulled it out to see a message from Assistant Gong.

[Assistant Gong]: Hahaha, look at this! [Pushed novel: Transmigrated Into a Cliché Novel as a Janitor]

Jian Yuheng: “…?”

[Assistant Gong] retracted the message.

[Assistant Gong]: Second Young Master, is Secretary Song settled? It’s getting late, and you have a schedule tomorrow morning.

Jian Yuheng didn’t reply. He closed the door behind him, sealing off an entire vineyard, and went downstairs to sit back in his car.

“Second Young Master?” Assistant Gong asked. “You successfully escaped from Secretary Song’s lair?”

“Not exactly smoothly,” Jian Yuheng replied.

Assistant Gong: “?”

“Just drive,” Jian Yuheng urged.

Assistant Gong was a beta, not very sensitive to pheromones. But at the moment, he felt as though he had rolled through a sea of grapes—his whole body reeked of grape fragrance.

The culprit? He wasn’t entirely sure.

Based on the earlier mishaps, both he and Secretary Song had probably been stuck in a loop, right?

Four repetitions. Song Ruochen had been scalded by the water cup four times, and each time his actions were exactly the same.

Maybe he had caught the wrong person—Secretary Song might be more wronged than Dou E.

But—

Not knowing how to drink yet stubbornly trying to block drinks for others, Secretary Song sure had a stubborn streak.

In a flash, Jian Yuheng recalled the sight of Secretary Song’s palm, reddened from the burn. Yesterday, when he had accidentally grabbed the other’s hand, Song Ruochen’s hand had been soft, with fingers so slender they seemed breakable.

Just a brief scald, and it turned that red.

Was Secretary Song planning to use such a frail body to oppose him forever?

As he thought about it, Jian Yuheng’s phone, lying on the car seat, rang.

“Hello, brother?” He answered. “What’s up?”

“This year’s annual meeting—you’ll deliver the speech,” Jian Feng said. “It’s a good chance for the entire staff to get to know you.”

“I don’t mind,” Jian Yuheng replied.

A speech? No big deal.

“By the way,” Jian Feng added, “This weekend, the Chen family’s second son is inviting us to go skydiving. I remember you used to love it. Want to go?”

“No,” Jian Yuheng rejected flatly. “I’m a homebody.”

Jian Feng: “…?”

__

[Zzzzz]
[Z…?]
[Song Ruochen, wake up.]
[What the heck?!]

“What are you doing… testing all the herbs like Shen Nong?” Song Ruochen opened his eyes while lying on the bed.

[Checking rewind coin pouch balance. Current balance: 0 seconds.]

“It’s completely empty?” Song Ruochen’s dazed gaze snapped into focus. “Huh???”

Song Ruochen was stunned.

Where was his money?

[I’m looking into it. My records show the withdrawal was made by you, executed by me, at 9:03 PM yesterday… rolled back four times.]

“I must have been experiencing a major life event,” Song Ruochen said confidently.

One man and one system wandered around the house, finally stopping in front of the trash can filled with glass shards and Song Ruochen’s own scalded hand. Both fell into silence.

[Too extravagant.]

The system commented.

“Yeah…” Song Ruochen nodded. “This feels like cutting leeks—it’s too much.”

“I’ll have to be on my best behavior for a while,” Song Ruochen said. “We’re out of rewind currency.”

[You could also stop behaving. Rewind currency can be purchased. Want some?]

“You should’ve said so earlier.” Song Ruochen perked up. “Get me a pound of it.”

[A thousand gold coins can’t buy an inch of time. Secretary Song’s 1,000-yuan salary can be exchanged for 1 second of rewind currency. Proceed?]

“Forget it,” Song Ruochen said. “There’s no embarrassment I, Song Ruochen, can’t endure.”

Yawning, he shuffled into the kitchen, sleepily making himself some fruit oatmeal.

[When you’re drunk, I get drunk too. Do you remember what happened last night?]

Song Ruochen strained to recall. All he could remember was in the private dining room, Jian Yuheng pinching his cheeks and questioning him fiercely about something.

As for the rest, it was all a blank.

He probably relied on his intelligence to outwit the villain and made it home safely.

Still, it was better not to drink outside again.

“System Secretary,” Song Ruochen asked, “Do I have any upcoming tasks?”

[…]
[Tomorrow, there’s an international conference with Xiaoshi Group. You’ll need to accompany them.]

“Following along is great,” Song Ruochen said. “I like earning money just by standing around.”

But before that, he had to find Yan Ci and get him to lend some Rewind Coins.

[Remember to bring the small gift you bought for Yan Ci.]

“Oh, right,” Song Ruochen replied.

The protagonist shou was a kind person who often gave out little cakes. Coincidentally, Yan Ci’s birthday was approaching, so to show his gratitude, Song Ruochen had bought a rather pretty paper-cut night lamp a few days ago to give as a gift.

“System buddy,” Song Ruochen asked, “where’s my lamp?”

He searched all the way to the living room and found the paper-cut lamp he had bought next to the sofa.

Wait a second—lamp?

“Did someone sit on it?” he asked. “Why is it flattened into two dimensions?”

[…]

__

In the afternoon, Song Ruochen followed the plot of the original book and found Yan Ci at the hospital.

Yan Ci’s beloved grandmother, who was treated very well in the book, was sick and lying in a hospital bed. The protagonist was sitting by her side, tearfully holding her hand.

“Ma’am,” Song Ruochen said, pushing the door open with a fruit basket in hand. “Your hospital services have been upgraded, and the medical bills are all charged to President Jian’s account. If there’s anything you need, feel free to contact me.”

“Alright,” Yan Ci said. “Secretary Song, I thought he wouldn’t care about me.”

“What did you say to him?” Song Ruochen asked.

Yan Ci handed him a screenshot of a chat log—

[Yan Ci]: 0.0
[Jian Feng]: So tired, I have to work again today.

“He didn’t even notice that the emoji I used had an extra teardrop compared to usual,” Yan Ci said. “I thought he didn’t love me anymore.”

Song Ruochen: “…”

Sensitive and insecure meets oblivious and dense.

“Bang!” The hospital room door was slammed open, and Yan Ci’s alpha brother strode in.

“Well, so Grandma’s sick, huh,” the alpha said as he reached for the fruit basket. “Do you have enough for the medical bills? Make Xiao Ci pay more. If there’s anything left over, I—”

Song Ruochen’s gaze lifted slightly, pondering what excuse to use to call hospital security.

Yan Ci clutched his chest and bent over, saying, “You actually hit me…”

Alpha brother looked at his hand in confusion.

“Security, please come over,” Song Ruochen pressed the call button. “There’s an alpha abusing an omega here.”

The hospital security rushed in and dragged Yan Ci’s bewildered brother out.

“Secretary Song, am I impressive?” Yan Ci asked.

“Mm,” Song Ruochen replied.

Who raised this kid? Yan Ci had turned into “Yan Porcelain.”

But it didn’t matter. Yan Ci was happy, and Song Ruochen’s Rewind Coin Pouch got some funds.

Thirty seconds wasn’t much, but it should be enough to get through the upcoming international conference smoothly.

__

The next morning, in the grand conference hall on the first floor of Xiaoshi Group, domestic and international elites gathered for an international meeting.

Among the elites, Secretary Song Ruochen, dressed in a crisp white shirt and tie, moved efficiently among the attendees.

“Second Young Master, your water.” He stopped beside Jian Yuheng, bent slightly, and placed a bottle of water in front of him. “Please enjoy.”

The cold, beautiful omega secretary quickly attracted quite a bit of attention.

“President Jian?” Song Ruochen tapped the earpiece in his right ear. “Go ahead.”

“Secretary Song, just stay by Jian Yuheng’s side. No need to come over,” Jian Feng said. “I’ve brought Xiaoshi Group’s translation specialist with me. He just returned to Xiaoshi, so he doesn’t have a specialist assigned yet. Help him with translations if needed, although he probably won’t…”

“Understood, President Jian,” Song Ruochen replied.

He pulled out a chair and sat next to Jian Yuheng.

Since the day he got “stuck” at Secretary Song’s house, Jian Yuheng hadn’t encountered anything strange for two days.

He turned slightly to glance at Secretary Song’s profile. The omega was reading the meeting notes, his expression icy.

So, was it you or not?

Jian Yuheng thought to himself.

These two days had been too peaceful—so peaceful it made him uncomfortable.

Could something happen again, so he could confirm?

“The international meeting in the original book was written in English, right?” Song Ruochen asked the system in his head. “If it’s in English, a college student should manage.”

[Yes.]

“I had just finished my CET-4 exam when I transmigrated,” Song Ruochen thought. “I’ll make do and translate for the Second Young Master.”

A few minutes later, a foreign businessman walked over and stopped in front of Jian Yuheng.

“Good morning*…%￥%￥%.”

Song Ruochen: “?”

What was that? So fast?

Good morning, and then something about benefits, plans, and cycles?

“Secretary Song,” Jian Yuheng said with a faint smile, “translate.”

Song Ruochen: “…”

Damn it, a listening test at work.

Ding.

Jian Yuheng’s gaze flickered slightly.

“System, playback at 0.5x speed. Does that function exist?” Song Ruochen asked.

[Ambitious.]

[Ah, actually, it’s possible within this coin pouch’s capabilities.]

[But you’ll also be slowed down. Can you handle that?]

“I don’t mind,” Song Ruochen thought. “I just need to listen.”

Time rewound by 10 seconds, and the foreigner spoke slowly: “g-o-o-d…”

“Mm—mm—” Song Ruochen listened in slow motion.

“Sec—re—tary—Song—” Jian Yuheng thought, less gritted-teeth due to the 0.5x speed, “is—it—you?”