FOBTS CH96

Bonus Extra ② IF: The Foolish Omega Encounters the Original Novel’s Villainous Young Master  

“Grape?”  

“Secretary Song?”  

“Grape?”  (In English)

“Not here?”  

“Monkey?”  

“Baby?”  

Jian Yuheng pushed open the door to the President’s secretary’s office.  

Song Ruochen wasn’t at his desk. On the workstation sat a slightly bruised lemon petit four.  

It seemed the “extremely busy” Secretary Song had just stepped away—who knew which “busy” matter he was attending to now.  

With the workday nearing its end, Jian Yuheng had already finished his tasks. He sat down at Song Ruochen’s desk, leaning back comfortably in the chair.  

Song Ruochen’s computer screen was still on, displaying a recent financial report for Xiaoshi Group. Jian Yuheng remembered seeing Song Ruochen reviewing this same document yesterday when he’d dropped by.  

What kind of financial report is so fascinating that Secretary Song keeps poring over it?  

Jian Yuheng moved the mouse to scroll down but accidentally clicked the left button instead. The screen instantly switched to another window—  

XX Literature City  

Jian Yuheng: “?”  

Well, well. I’ve uncovered the grape’s little secret.  

《Survival Guide in a Non-ABO World》  

Author: Slacking Off at Work  

Comments Section:  

[This really captures the author’s longing for a world without ABO dynamics.]  

[Proof of how bored people get at work—they start imagining entire alternate universes.]  

[LMAO it reads so convincingly.]  

Jian Yuheng: “……?”  

Song Ruochen really has too much energy.  

At any rate, Song Ruochen’s desk was impeccably organized. Like any ordinary office worker, he had stuck numerous memos around his computer monitor, presumably as work reminders.  

Jian Yuheng smirked and plucked a few of the sticky notes from the screen’s edge.  

[Assistant Gong hasn’t paid his snack tax in three days.]  

[Hint to Jian Yuheng to buy raspberry-flavored petit fours.] (Written in Grape Handwriting Font, Size 1 Extra Large, Bold, Underlined)  

Jian Yuheng: “…”  

Such glaring hints.  

But did Song Ruochen prefer raspberry flavor for these cakes?  

Next time, I’ll buy one lemon and one raspberry. If the grape kisses me, he gets the raspberry one as a reward.  

Jian Yuheng continued snooping through Song Ruochen’s notes. Just as he was about to peel off another one, the back of his hand brushed against something. He glanced down—a Rewind Coin.  

Red? Never seen this color before. Do Rewind Coins come in different varieties now?  

What’s next, Clow Cards turning into Sakura Cards?  

Compared to these bizarre coins, Jian Yuheng was far more interested in Song Ruochen’s sticky notes.  

So he peeled off the third one—  

[Do not touch the Rewind Coin on the desk.]  

Jian Yuheng: “Uh…”  

His gaze dropped to his hand.  

Oops. Already touched it.  

Touched it, and nothing happened. Wait—who am I? Where am I?  

Jian Yuheng: “&%…..¥#@!!”  

Jian Yuheng slowly opened his eyes: “I am Jian Yuheng. I will reclaim everything that belongs to me.”  

—

Xiaoshi Group, 9th Floor Meeting Room  

“Secretary Song’s proposal is truly eye-opening,” praised the marketing director of Haochi Group. “Working with you is always a pleasure.”  

“Looking forward to our next collaboration, Director Chen,” Song Ruochen said, gathering the documents scattered across the table.  

[Poor Director Chen has no idea that, over the past year, you’ve tripped him once, caused him to rear-end someone twice, and gotten his head stuck in a glass door once.]  

[Lighting a candle.jpg]  

[But Grape did great today! You finished negotiations with Director Chen without using a single Rewind.]  

“Practice makes perfect,” Song Ruochen said.  

[Grape Pro Max.]  

“Alright, time to clock out,” Song Ruochen said. “Let’s go find Jian Yuheng.”  

“Ahhh~ my Alpha, the Jian Family Hawthorn~” Song Ruochen hummed as he walked off.  

[Covering ears (realizing it has no ears) (Doraemon shocked face)]  

“5:20 PM,” Song Ruochen noted, checking his wristwatch.  

[Even the clock-out time is a declaration of love.]  

“Then I’d argue 1:14 PM is even more romantic,” Song Ruochen said. “I hope all companies start paying overtime wages by the second.”  

The door to the President secretary’s office was ajar—Jian Yuheng had already arrived.  

Lately, Jian Yuheng had taken to loitering in his office, never arriving empty-handed. He’d bring snacks and leave with some work.  

[A mutual exchange of gifts.]  

[Coo coo coo.]  

“Are you mutating inside my head?” Song Ruochen asked. “No non-human laughter allowed.”  

Song Ruochen stepped into the office and immediately spotted Jian Yuheng sitting at his workstation.  

The Alpha was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, posture rigid as he flipped through a document with a disdainful gaze. The room was so quiet you could hear the rustle of paper.  

Noticing movement at the door, the Alpha lifted his head, his piercing eyes locking onto Song Ruochen like a predator sizing up prey. The frosty, venomous glare made Song Ruochen instinctively take half a step back.  

[What’s wrong?]  

“Fake at first glance,” Song Ruochen said.  

[Because of the icy, poisonous stare?]  

“No,” Song Ruochen said. “He’s never described this elaborately in his usual appearances.”  

[Did Second Young Master touch the defective Rewind Coin on the desk?]  

“Seems like it,” Song Ruochen sighed, life weighing heavily on him. “What does this coin do?”  

[Temporarily overlays the original novel character’s persona, including abilities and thought processes.]  

[I spent 49 days forging this.]  

[Only one exists. Meant for you to handle work emergencies, but it’s unstable and only lasts 20 minutes. Was going to have you glance at it and toss it.]  

The original novel character’s… persona?  

So that’d be the original ruthless, vicious Hawthorn?  

“Secretary Song,” Jian Yuheng (Fake-at-First-Glance) snapped, slamming the document onto the desk. “What kind of garbage is this marketing proposal? Is this the level expected of Xiaoshi Group’s President secretary?”  

“No,” Song Ruochen said.  

“Because you wrote it.”  

Jian Yuheng (Fake-at-First-Glance): “…..?”  

[LMAO is this the proposal Hawthorn drafted himself yesterday while bored waiting for you to clock out?]  

“Yep,” Song Ruochen said, fighting a laugh.  

“Secretary Song,” Jian Yuheng (Fake-at-First-Glance) rose from his chair. “Where are your workplace manners?”  

[Secretary Song has undergone professional training.]  

“Not enough salary, Second Young Master Jian,” Song Ruochen said. “Only with full barns can one learn etiquette. I have no money, hence no manners.”  

[You really never miss a chance to demand a raise, do you?]  

“If wage slaves don’t fight for their pay, should we fight for the boss’s life instead?” Song Ruochen retorted.  

[Stop joking around, you absolute menace. We should probably avoid him for now—the guy in front of you is the original ruthless Hawthorn, the one who once held Secretary Song underwater with one hand.]  

But it was too late. Jian Yuheng (Fake-at-First-Glance) advanced step by step, backing Song Ruochen against the wall.  

The Alpha seemed to consider something for a moment before abruptly grabbing Song Ruochen’s collar.  

“Secretary Song,” Jian Yuheng (Fake-at-First-Glance) said coldly. “You were the one who cut off the supply chain during yesterday’s city expo, weren’t you?”  

Song Ruochen: “0.0?”  

“Hold on, let me check if it was me.”  

Jian Yuheng (Fake-at-First-Glance): “?”  

You have to check?  

“Was it me? Was it me?” Song Ruochen asked the system. “You know how I speed-read through these plots.”  

[Rustling pages]  

[Frantic page-flipping]  

[College-finals-cramming-level frantic page-flipping]  

[Chapter 233, Paragraph 43: The two are locked in a power struggle. Secretary Song’s subordinates sabotage the expo’s supply chain, leaving two critical products missing from Jian Yuheng’s AI-themed exhibition.]  

Song Ruochen: “Ahhh, the business-warfare version of Secretary Song.”  

[Jian Yuheng’s team showcases a prototype instead, which receives rave reviews and saves the expo.]  

[Afterward, Jian Yuheng corners Secretary Song in the office for a personal confrontation.]  

[This must be that scene.]  

Song Ruochen: “……”  

Two cool fingers gripped his chin, the pressure unyielding, making his cheeks ache.  

“If Secretary Song can’t recall,” Jian Yuheng (Fake-at-First-Glance) said icily, “I can help jog your memory.”  

The pinch stung. Song Ruochen winced slightly.  

“Hurts?” The Alpha’s voice dripped with contempt. “This much already? How unlike you.”  

Jian Yuheng (Fake-at-First-Glance) loosened his grip slightly, but the threat in his tone deepened. “Keep undermining me, and other parts will hurt too. Would you prefer your hands, your legs, or…”  

[He wants his ass to hurt.]  

Song Ruochen: “…”  

Shut up, oh my god—  

“Why are you blushing?” Jian Yuheng asked.  

“I’m not!”  

“Secretary Song, save me!” The office door burst open as the President himself barged in.  

Jian Feng staggered under the weight of multiple file boxes. “I’ll pay overtime! Help me screen these new project proposals from the lower departments!”  

“Oh?” Jian Feng paused. “Am I interrupting something?”  

Is this what Xiao Ci calls ‘office play’?  

“Not at all,” Jian Yuheng released Song Ruochen. “Work?”  

Jian Feng nodded three times in quick succession.  

“I’ll handle it.” Jian Yuheng took the file boxes and tossed a single word over his shoulder: “Useless.”  

“Did you two fight?” Jian Feng asked.  

“Nope,” Song Ruochen said. “President Jian, you’re dismissed for the day. Come back tomorrow with a quarterly work summary.”  

Jian Feng happily clocked out.  

“System Bro,” Song Ruochen called.  

[Right here, bro.]  

“How long will this ‘villain mode’ last?” Song Ruochen asked.  

[This coin’s defective—it’ll burn out soon, and Evil Young Master will revert to Nice Young Master.]  

“Then I’ll go play a round with Da Zao,” Song Ruochen said. “We’ll wait for Second Young Master to reset.”  

—  

Jian Yuheng (Fake-at-First-Glance) strode down Xiaoshi Group’s corridors, arms laden with files. Employees greeted him as he passed.  

“Good evening, Second Young Master!”  

“Working late again, Second Young Master?”  

“Second Young Master, the cafeteria’s roasted marshmallows today were amazing! You should grab some for Secretary Song!”  

Jian Yuheng (Fake-at-First-Glance) halted, bewildered.  

Wasn’t that one of Jian Feng’s subordinates? Since when are they so friendly? It’s practically a welcoming committee.  

And why would I buy roasted marshmallows for Secretary Song? Does he even eat that?  

Still confused, he pushed open the door to Jian Feng’s office. Strangely, his brother had granted him access to this high-security area without a second thought.  

Jian Yuheng sat at the desk and opened the file box, scanning its contents.  

His brow furrowed.  

What kind of work is this?  

Since when does Xiaoshi Group deal with these matters Is this even the same company?  

As he pondered, his gaze drifted from the documents to a photo album on the desk.

That human-like machine who resembles an older brother—when did it start keeping a photo album on the desk?

Jian Yuheng (Fake-at-First-Glance) flipped open the album with a hint of curiosity.

The first page of the album was a photo of Jian Feng and Yan Ci. In the picture, Yan Ci was dressed in ski gear, smiling sweetly. It seemed to have been taken during a skiing trip.

Strange, since when did his brother and sister-in-law get along so well?

Jian Yuheng (Fake-at-First-Glance) turned the page and froze.

In this photo, why was he hugging… Secretary Song??? What was going on?

Turning another page, he saw… a wedding photo?!

Jian Yu (Fake-at-First-Glance): “President&%……#”

Jian Feng had left his computer on when he left, and now a group chat icon was blinking at the bottom of the screen. He moved the mouse and clicked in.

[The Xiaoshi Group Chat Without Leadership] (2000 members)

[Retire After Saving a Million]: There aren’t any leaders lurking in this group, right?

[Wishing for a Hometown Demolition Payout]: What kind of leader would be that bored?

Jian Yuheng (Fake-at-First-Glance) glanced at the account that had just joined the group—

“Wishing the Boss Would Skip Work”

Jian Yu (Fake-at-First-Glance): “…”

It felt like everyone around him was familiar, yet somehow not, but they all acted closer than usual.

Now his brain was about to short-circuit.

The group chat continued—

[Dreaming of the Boss Crying While Giving Me a Million-Dollar Raise]: I ran into the second young master and Secretary Song at the supermarket near work yesterday. Secretary Song even gave me some chestnuts.

[Dreaming of the Boss Crying While Giving Me a Million-Dollar Raise]: I’m just an ordinary office worker, yet he actually remembered who I was.

[Glowing on Payday]: Ahhh, a while ago, my car broke down, so I was walking to work when the second young master and Secretary Song picked me up. Secretary Song even asked me for a bite of my pancake.

[Being Xiaoshi’s Dog]: Hahaha, knowing Secretary Song, he probably wanted the pancake more. You were just a bonus.

[Glowing on Payday]: I don’t care. I’m going to work hard to earn money for Xiaoshi so the second young master and Secretary Song can buy more delicious food.

Jian Yuheng (Fake-at-First-Glance) paused, scrolling through the chat with his fingertips, piecing together the story of him and Secretary Song from others’ words. He and Secretary Song… weren’t they sworn enemies?

The fake tyrant stared at the photo of Song Ruochen’s smiling face, lost in thought.

“Second Young Master.” The office door opened as Assistant Gong appeared at the entrance. “The cafeteria just released roasted marshmallows, and I managed to snag the last one. Could you give it to Secretary Song?”

Assistant Gong: “Second Young Master?”

“Leave it there,” Jian Yuheng (Fake-at-First-Glance) said.

Assistant Gong, full of confusion, set down the treat.

In Jian Yuheng’s office, Song Ruochen was cracking sunflower seeds while playing a game with Yan Ci.

Unconsciously, someone stopped beside him.

“I’m done playing,” Song Ruochen said. “My tyrant is back. Play by yourself.”

He exited the game and looked up at the person before him.

Clearly, Jian Yuheng (Fake-at-First-Glance) was also sizing him up, holding a box of what looked like freshly roasted marshmallows.

Song Ruochen: “0.0?”

“Explain.” A hand gripped the back of his neck, pressing him firmly against the desk. “Secretary Song, is this all your doing?”

Caught off guard, Song Ruochen was pinned face-down on the desk. He struggled briefly but couldn’t break free. The alpha’s fingers pressed against the omega gland at the nape of his neck through his collar, sending waves of weakness through his body.

“Don’t…” His waist bumped against the edge of the desk, and he let out a soft cry.

“You and I got married?” Jian Yuheng turned his face from behind, his gaze cold and imposing. “What part of you could possibly attract me?”

Song Ruochen rolled like a grape but couldn’t escape, forced to stay plastered against the desk. His cheek pressed against the surface, his profile illuminated by the office lights, his long lashes fluttering as his lips—usually pale—parted slightly, their delicate curve on full display.

[What part attracts you?]

[More than one part, hehe.]

Song Ruochen: “…”

Song Ruochen’s lashes trembled slightly, and Jian Yuheng’s (Fake-at-First-Glance) grip loosened almost imperceptibly.

“System,” Song Ruochen said. “Rewind.”

[Received.]

[Ding.]

In the next moment, Jian Yuheng was abruptly teleported back outside the door: “@#….President”

Jian Yuheng (Genuine) opened his eyes.

Jian Yuheng: “?”

Jian Yuheng: “…”

“Grape? Are you okay?” Jian Yuheng rushed into the office.

“This one’s the real deal,” Song Ruochen said.

[How can you tell?]

[Because he does :)?]

“Because he loves me,” Song Ruochen said. “And I like him too.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Jian Yuheng yanked him forward, pulling him into a tight embrace.

The alpha’s scorching hand pressed against the small of his back through the thin fabric of his white shirt, while the other lifted his chin, planting a kiss on his lips.

“I bullied you,” Jian Yuheng murmured, stroking his back soothingly.

“Ah.” Song Ruochen waved a hand dismissively. “Can’t blame you. It was that cursed coin’s fault—it temporarily turned you into the original novel’s tyrant.”

Song Ruochen: “That ‘comforting’ hand of yours is sliding lower and lower, isn’t it?”

Jian Yuheng: “.”

“Then I shouldn’t have bullied you,” Jian Yuheng said. “If it were you, no matter when we met, I’d fall for you.”

“You just said nothing about me was attractive!” Song Ruochen argued.

“Call it stubbornness,” Jian Yuheng conceded.

“Really, really?” Grape chattered on. “You even pinned me to the desk so hard!”

Jian Yu: “…”

The next second, the lecturing Song Ruochen froze as Jian Yuheng seized the opportunity to kiss him again. The kiss was deep, his tongue probing until Song Ruochen’s roots ached, his body growing weaker as if sinking into warm seawater, steadied only by Jian Yuheng’s firm grip around him.

“Between the tyrant and me, who do you prefer?” Jian Yuheng’s voice was low as Song Ruochen’s mind spun dizzily.

“? You’re insane,” Song Ruochen said.

[Bad company corrupts good morals, and proximity to a madman breeds madness.]

[Overheating. Shutting down.]

Before he could finish, he was swept into another searing kiss, his lips parted, his sensitive mouth explored thoroughly, his thoughts scattered by the relentless assault.

“Mmph…” His protests came out fragmented. “Of course… it’s you…”

Downstairs, in the parking lot.

Seated in the passenger seat, seatbelt fastened, Song Ruochen examined his lips in the rearview mirror.

“You bit me,” he complained. “Should’ve just rewound.”

“Can’t really call it a bite…” Jian Yuheng’s gaze lingered on his slightly swollen lips—now a pretty shade of pink.

“I was thinking,” Jian Yuheng said. “Even that version of me, seeing Xiaoshi so lively, feeling the warmth between brothers, and having you by my side—would’ve been happy deep down.”

“Then why pick a fight with me?” Song Ruochen tilted his head.

“You’re fun to tease,” Jian Yuheng deflected.

Song Ruochen wasn’t buying it.

Jian Yuheng’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. How could he not love him?

Xiaoshi couldn’t do without Secretary Song, and he couldn’t do without him even more.

His phone chimed with a few WeChat messages. Still munching on an apple, Song Ruochen couldn’t be bothered to check, so he asked Jian Yuheng to read them aloud.

“Probably work stuff from Haochi,” Song Ruochen said. “They said they’d send me a shortlist for the new project tonight. Read it to me.”

“Here it is,” Jian Yuheng said.

“Little Grape, good evening,” Jian Yuheng read aloud.

Song Ruochen: “0.0!”

“Came across a hilarious post,” Jian Yuheng continued. “Reading an alpha’s palm can tell you if he’s good in bed.”

Song Ruochen: “…”

“How’s the little brother?” Jian Yuheng read. “Quick, check his hand!”

“Stop,” Song Ruochen said. “Don’t read anymore!”

“Ahhh, how could I doubt him? That one time you were super late to work, weren’t your legs weak too?” Jian Yuheng read mercilessly.

Song Ruochen: “AHHHHHHH STOP!”

“You guys talk about this stuff privately?” Jian Yuheng asked.

“We don’t ‘talk,’” Song Ruochen said. “He monologues. That’s not a discussion. I don’t participate.”

Jian Yuheng chuckled but didn’t argue, smoothly driving the car out of the parking lot.

“No need for palm reading,” he said after a while. “You’ve got a much more direct method. Or is our Secretary Song so meticulous that he needs to inspect first, then verify…”

Song Ruochen: “0.0?”

Song Ruochen: “Shut up, tyrant. Just drive.”

Ever since they got married, this fruit had become increasingly fond of teasing him.

“As you wish, President Song,” Jian Yuheng said.

“Let’s go home,” he said.