Chapter 30: The Beta Who Hates Alphas Part 2

Yu Sui stiffened at the question. “Because I’m not the type to suppress people with Pheromones.”

“Something so intimate, releasing it everywhere—it’s basically like being an exhibitionist.” Disdain colored his tone. “I’m a 4S alpha. There’s no way I’d act like some beast.”

“But didn’t it feel awful when I kissed you?” Shen Anliu’s voice was full of grievance.

“Get lost!” Yu Sui lost his cool. “Don’t mention that again!”

He rolled over, forgetting all about that bystander’s comment.

Shen Anliu’s eyes dimmed. The young man probably hated his guts now.

The next day, Yu Sui got up late as usual, washed up, ate, and headed to the practice room.

Dark circles shadowed Jiang Nianxing’s eyes. He glanced at Yu Sui and sighed inwardly.

He’d spent the whole night racking his brain but still couldn’t pinpoint the problem. Things had been so sweet before, but now that red exclamation mark haunted him. He couldn’t sleep, and even breakfast tasted like ash.

Shen Anliu looked rough too. Yu Sui had turned down his packed lunch that morning—he was clearly drawing a hard line.

They trained, each lost in their own thoughts.

During the break, He Baiyan stood up. “Yu Sui, come with me for a sec.”

Yu Sui suddenly remembered something. Shen Anliu and the captain hadn’t gone all the way, right? So what about He Baiyan’s feelings for his roommate?

He clenched his fingers, unsure what to make of it.

They went to the vocal room.

He Baiyan sat on the sofa and gestured for him to come over.

Yu Sui chose the farthest seat and fiddled with his palm, head down.

“What did you want with the reporter?”

“I…” Yu Sui hesitated.

[He must still like Shen Anliu.] the System guessed. [Nothing abnormal so far, after all.]

“So what if I wanted to screw him over?” Yu Sui decided to bluff, plastering on a cocky expression.

He Baiyan stared at his face.

The love bites on his neck weren’t covered yet, and his lips were still a bit swollen. How exactly was this “screwing him over”?

“So what happened in the end?” He Baiyan couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Yu Sui felt a surge of grievance at the question. “He had an accident.”

He Baiyan frowned. “So you two…”

“Don’t get the wrong idea—we didn’t!” Yu Sui cut him off. “I’m out.”

He Baiyan watched him go. His posture seemed fine—no awkwardness. They probably hadn’t gone that far.

Something felt off about the whole thing, but in the end, it seemed like everyone had just played into their master-servant game.

Whatever.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He Baiyan decided not to dig deeper.

The next few days passed peacefully, but online discussions about TYE didn’t let up.

On Friday, TYE’s studio dropped their first group MV.

[Called it—it’s just hype for the group song.]

[Oh no, they’re sacrificing a banger. Pass! But I ship those two rookies hard.]

Comments flooded in before many even watched the group song.

The style was pretty standard—nothing fresh.

Overall, Yu Sui’s flaws stood out glaringly, but his face and professional charisma made up for it.

[666, this rookie’s a total workaholic.]

[Sui Sui’s way too dedicated.]

[Star Sea Entertainment’s got endless CP bait to sell.]

[Never thought I’d ship a pair of alphas.]

[Whoever scouted Yu Sui, here’s a drumstick for you.]

Few tuned in for the song and dance itself. But precisely because the views were modest, those snippets felt precious. And since it wasn’t perfectly balanced, the company’s backend was exploding.

Controversy meant buzz. Star Sea Entertainment had come out on top big time.

That Friday evening, the group lounged in the break room, watching the group MV play on the big screen.

Everyone except Yu Sui had seen the full version already, so their expressions barely changed.

Manager Chen Qing sat nearby, silently watching the screen too.

Yu Sui awkwardly picked at his hands—especially during the interaction segments. It was like public execution.

Chen Qing’s gaze lingered on Yu Sui. The kid had his little habits, but he had real talent.

You had to show some favoritism to someone like that.

“The views are solid—hit a new high.” When it ended, Chen Qing rattled off the numbers from each platform.

He came off like a total pro, jotting down the stats.

“You all gained a total of…”

He clutched a tablet with everyone’s individual data.

“For standout artists, the company naturally offers perks.” After some praise, Chen Qing got to the point. “Yu Sui, Shen Anliu—you two can move into the apartment now.”

“Bonus: film some daily vlogs.”

That was the real hook.

Plain and simple—they’d tasted the benefits of QueerbaitingPairing and wanted more.

Yu Sui tensed up. But the plot had an apartment task, so he couldn’t bail.

Finally, the manager tossed in some encouraging words.

“Bro.” Yu Sui had been ignoring him pointedly these past few days, and Shen Anliu had tried keeping his distance to avoid being hated. But they wouldn’t be roommates anymore. He couldn’t hold back and called out to the young man.

Hearing himself called, Yu Sui remembered they wouldn’t be sharing a room anymore. He broke into a grin.

Lu Jinxia glanced around and let out a soft sigh.

This family was already falling apart before he even joined.

The company gave them the weekend off, reminding them to post some fan service pics.

Yu Sui and Shen Anliu moved into the apartment.

The others didn’t envy them—those QueerbaitingPairing photos and clips were seriously off-putting for alphas.

Two rooms on the first floor: He Baiyan and Lu Jinxia.

Three on the second.

Yu Sui had been there once. Jiang Nianxing had the rightmost room.

Without a second thought, he picked the left one.

Jiang Nianxing’s heart shattered all over again.

They spent half the day cleaning and organizing. Yu Sui felt great—no more worrying about his roommate emerging all dewy-eyed and aroused.

After washing up, he headed downstairs and spotted Lu Jinxia back from outside, masked up and gloved, carrying groceries.

“The captain said we should celebrate your move-in, so hot pot tonight.” He looked up at the sound.

Yu Sui blinked. He hadn’t expected them to make such a fuss.

Downstairs, he found everyone crammed in the kitchen, bustling around in perfect harmony.

A thought struck Yu Sui. “Are they getting together now?”

[Highly possible,] the System said. [They didn’t interact much before, but now they’re together all the time—sparks are bound to fly.]

[Plus, you always want what you can’t have. Now he’s got it.]

Yu Sui scowled. “Don’t talk nonsense. We didn’t go that far!”

[Fine, just kissing and a handjob.] The System backpedaled.

“If you can’t say anything nice, shut up.” Yu Sui ground his teeth.

Lu Jinxia handed out veggies and sorted the rest of the stuff.

Yu Sui sprawled on the sofa, bursting into laughter at videos now and then.

Hearing the noise, Jiang Nianxing peeked out.

The young man lay on his side, phone in hand—a strip of waist peeking out.

Jiang Nianxing’s eyes darkened.

Since that day, he hadn’t spoken to Yu Sui, who treated him like air.

Frustration gnawed at Jiang Nianxing, but he had no clue what he’d done wrong.

Sides prepped, Shen Anliu carried them out.

Seeing the young man laughing until tears streamed, he grabbed a tissue and bent down to wipe Yu Sui’s face.

Yu Sui went rigid. His smile vanished. “Don’t touch me!”

He swatted the hand away.

The sharp slap drew everyone’s eyes.

Yu Sui’s lips moved awkwardly. “I… you…”

“Sorry.” Shen Anliu apologized, his voice parched.

Yu Sui let out a final cold snort and sat up.

Once everything was ready, they gathered around the table and snapped photos with their phones. They raised their cups filled with drinks, clinked them together, and captured the moment.

Then they posted the pictures on social media, tagging their teammates.

With the perfunctory promotion out of the way, they dug into their meal.

Shen Anliu couldn’t handle spicy food, so he opted for the clear broth.

Yu Sui loved spice, but it always showed on his face. He stuck out his tongue, panting from the heat, his eyes growing misty. He didn’t notice his teammates staring at him.

Feeling their gazes, Yu Sui looked up. “What’s up?”

“Have some drink,” Jiang Nianxing said, unable to hold back his concern.

Yu Sui raised an eyebrow and gave a soft “Mm.”

That simple response was enough to make Jiang Nianxing beam.

The meal passed in relative harmony—aside from the constant stares aimed at Yu Sui.

Social media users once again speculated freely about their “cohabitation.”

[Poor Sui Sui is shattered.]

[Probably from sleeping.]

[Don’t a bunch of alphas living together start fighting?]

[They’re going way too hard.]

[Everyone’s just assuming it’s all-Sui.]

[Isn’t this obvious to everyone?]

Rest periods always flew by, and Monday arrived before they knew it.

Yu Sui breathed an inward sigh of relief. The disaster he’d feared hadn’t come to pass. It seemed the System had been right—they’d truly moved their affections elsewhere.

The day before, they’d received a staff notice: a meeting in the manager’s office first thing today.

They rode the elevator to the manager’s floor. As the doors opened, they spotted several people stepping out of the neighboring elevator.

The newcomers’ gazes swept over the entire TYE team before settling on Yu Sui.

He Baiyan and the others glanced over.

Eyes met, and pheromones started mingling in the air once more.

Ding—

The elevator doors slid open again, revealing members from two more teams.

“Can’t you stop casually releasing your pheromones and polluting the air?” one Alpha grumbled with clear disgust.

Yu Sui’s mouth twitched. Artist relations in this company were truly abysmal.

At least no fight broke out.

Chen Qing managed five groups, all of them among the more successful ones.

He came across as laid-back and uninvolved, but he held a weekly meeting to review the prior week’s stats.

They reached the office.

The manager, ditching his usual stern demeanor, grinned broadly and waved them inside.

“I’ve got a variety show lined up. Who wants in?”

Strangers might peg Chen Qing as approachable, but they knew better after all this time at the company. Whenever the man smiled like that, trouble was brewing.

No one said a word.

The manager motioned for them to sit, then activated the large wall screen and pulled up the show details—”Friendly Rivalry.”

It was a live-broadcast variety program featuring idols from various companies: red-hot stars, washed-up veterans, and fresh-faced newcomers just breaking through.

Many guests had their true colors exposed on the show, sending their careers into freefall. Others climbed the ranks thanks to their raw charisma and professional skills.

The program drew plenty of eyes, but it cut both ways like a double-edged sword—which was why no one spoke up.