“Wen Yan, you’re back!!” Liang Wangyou came running excitedly down the steps.
Wen Yan stepped out of the car alone and smiled as he caught the boy who leaped into his arms. “You seem awfully happy.”
“I already know!” Liang Wangyou wrapped his arms around Wen Yan’s neck with a cheeky grin. “Tomorrow, I’m taking you to the Taekwondo Hall. I’m the best kid there, and I want to show you what I can do.”
“Sounds good.” Wen Yan carried him up the steps. “Has the scar on your hand fallen off yet?”
“I picked one off. Doctor Hu said that if the scab comes off easily, it means it’s healed.”
Consul Ji helped Liang Wangyou down. Afterward, the two changed into slippers at the entryway and headed to the dining room. After dinner, they went to the Amusement Park to play. Liang Wangyou was an incredibly disciplined child who never got addicted to electronic gadgets or indulged excessively in fun. When bedtime rolled around, he would change into his pajamas on his own and quietly tell the childcare workers, “No milk tonight.”
“Understood.” The two childcare workers smiled and came over to greet Wen Yan. “Mr. Wen, we’ll be heading out now.”
“Thanks for your hard work. Goodbye.” Wen Yan nodded with a smile as well.
Liang Wangyou climbed into bed, pulled the covers up, and poked out his fair, clean little face. “Wen Yan, tomorrow I want to introduce you to my best friend.”
Night had fallen, and a hazy warm glow filtered through the window.
“Sure.” Wen Yan sat on the edge of the bed and ruffled his hair.
“He’s my best friend.” Liang Wangyou’s eyes sparkled. “He’s great at dancing. During music class, he’s always up on the classroom stage dancing along, and he has a beautiful singing voice too. He just talks a lot.”
Speaking of talking a lot… Wen Yan chuckled softly to himself. “Do you dance?”
“No way, that’s so childish. He always makes the teacher burst out laughing. But… if you wanted to see it, I could learn…”
“No need. In my eyes, you’re already the best kid in the world. I like you just as much without the dancing. The most.”
“Hmph.” Liang Wangyou scrunched up his face, his disdainful expression an exact mirror of Liang Shijing’s. “I don’t want everyone to like me. They don’t like me anyway—they just respect me. But Wen Yan, I really want to see you laugh out loud. We’ve known each other so long, and I’ve never seen it.”
Wen Yan paused for a moment, lost in thought. What would it take to make him laugh like that? This life was already so good, so good.
“You don’t smile much to begin with. You look even more uncomfortable around Father. But I feel like he’s scared of you.” Liang Wangyou spoke with the unfiltered honesty of a child.
“Hm?” Wen Yan’s eyes widened.
“You don’t realize it. Every time you talk, Father’s watching you closely. If he says something that upsets you, he doesn’t dare continue.”
Wen Yan thought back and realized it was true… He wasn’t sure how to respond, but just then, “Cao Cao” arrived.
At ten o’clock at night, there was a soft double knock at the door. Liang Shijing entered wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Apart from missing his suit jacket, the leaf-shaped tie clip was still firmly attached to his dark silk tie. He had probably just returned from the Chief’s Mansion, looking travel-worn and weary, like a model husband who had toiled all day outside just to give his wife and child a better life. Despite standing at the pinnacle of power in the Alliance of Eight Nations, his exhaustion weighed on him heavily—so heavily.
The Alpha walked straight to the Omega’s side and sat down.
The room fell silent. Wen Yan and Liang Wangyou exchanged a glance.
“Have you had your milk?” Liang Shijing suddenly asked.
Wen Yan was stunned, momentarily baffled by the question since Liang Shijing was staring right at him. What milk was he supposed to drink?
“I don’t want any.” Liang Wangyou refused with a mischievous glint in his eye.
Liang Shijing glanced at his watch and stood to head out. Wen Yan thought he was leaving, but instead, he stepped into the living room. The appliance beeped sharply, and Liang Wangyou heard it too. He puffed up his cheeks and yelled toward the living room, “Only 120 milliliters!”
“Do you have to drink it every night?” Wen Yan asked guiltily, gazing at him. “Did I forget to prepare it for you?”
It was supposed to be every morning and night, but drinking it meant wearing a diaper afterward… Liang Wangyou didn’t want Wen Yan to know he was still wetting the bed at his age, but of all the luck!
Why did his Alpha father have to ruin everything?
A few minutes later, Wen Yan saw… uh… the impassive Liang Shijing emerging from the living room with a bottle of milk…
Liang Wangyou scrambled off the bed and dashed to the edge, snatched the bottle, twisted off the cap, and chugged it down in one go. With his back turned, he shot Liang Shijing a meaningful look. “Put the diaper on me later! Don’t ask now, don’t ask!”
His voice was soft, but anyone with ears could hear it. Wen Yan held back a laugh. “Little You, I’ll head back to my room. Get some sleep soon. Good night.”
Liang Wangyou was furious. Every time Liang Shijing came back, Wen Yan immediately left. He had promised to stay until he fell asleep tonight!!
Unable to hold it in any longer, the Omega hurried after the Alpha into the corridor, covering his face as his shoulders shook, looking for all the world like he was crying…
“Couldn’t you hold out a little longer? If you leave, he’ll blame it all on me.” The Alpha stood behind him like a persistent ghost, grumbling.
Wen Yan dropped his hands, still smiling, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright.
One could easily imagine how exasperated Liang Wangyou must have been, no doubt pouting and scolding Liang Shijing loudly—why couldn’t he come back earlier or later, blah blah blah. Liang Shijing had probably only half-listened before slipping out.
“Why’d you do that?” Wen Yan had fully grasped Liang Shijing’s little scheme and asked with a smile. “He has his pride too, you know.”
“What face does a five-year-old bedwetter need?” Liang Shijing replied indifferently. “He’s afraid you’ll find out and won’t change. It’s his own problem.”
“You really are…”
“Really what?”
Wen Yan’s laughter had faded, his voice soft again. “Why is he still wetting the bed?”
“Ask yourself.” Liang Shijing removed his tie clip and loosened his collar. “You’ve done the same thing before.”
Bringing up genetics again—the last time he got spanked, it was blamed on inherited stubborn genes, and now stupidity too, and bedwetting. Wen Yan wasn’t having it. Regardless of whether they were flaws, the child was born from both of them, yet Liang Shijing dumped all the blame on him.
“It must be from you. I stopped wetting the bed when I was little.” He argued righteously.
“I never said anything about when you were little.” Liang Shijing shot back leisurely.
?
Wen Yan mulled over those words, and suddenly a few images flashed through his mind. His face gradually turned red… Liang Shijing grew even more relaxed, leaning casually against the wall as he tossed and caught that diamond tie clip over and over.
“I’m going to bed,” Wen Yan said, lowering his eyes in embarrassment.
“Good night. Don’t forget to use the bathroom.” Liang Shijing snatched the tie clip out of the air with one smooth motion and sauntered off.
Once the Alpha’s back vanished behind the bedroom door, Wen Yan fumed.
He desperately wanted to snap, “You’re the one forcing me,” but the words just wouldn’t come out…
The next morning, thanks to those two remarks from the Alpha the night before—which had upset both the adult and the child—no one spoke to him at breakfast. Liang Wangyou was in a real snit, humming grumpily the whole time. As soon as he finished eating, he grabbed Wen Yan’s hand and stormed off. Wen Yan gripped the boy’s small hand tightly and let out a quiet hum of his own as they left the dining room. He had no idea if Liang Shijing heard it. Not that it mattered—they were heading out anyway. Wen Yan quickened his steps.
The Capital Sports Center housed a national-level Children’s Taekwondo Hall, an exclusive facility reserved for those with the right credentials. The space was vast, and the coaches were all retired professional athletes. They had arrived late, so Liang Wangyou changed into his uniform and hurried straight onto the training floor. The area was divided into individual zones for the kids. These little radish heads, clad in crisp white training gear, followed their one-on-one coaches with enthusiastic cries of “Hey! Ha!”
Their movements were both amusing and adorable, and the sessions weren’t overly strict. Plenty of the children clustered together to chat instead of focusing.
The spectator seats were sparsely occupied. Only a couple of people looked like actual parents; most were nannies, childcare workers, bodyguards, and secretaries. Spotting the empty first row, Wen Yan chose a seat right in the middle. From there, he had a perfect view of the entire floor, with Liang Wangyou smack in the center—mid-high kick toward the foot target his coach held up.
Wen Yan had only learned that morning how full Liang Wangyou’s weekends truly were. Beyond these enriching activities for body and mind, the boy even took his little horse Pearl abroad for competitions during the season. Liang Wangyou had mentioned that Liang Shijing had recently assembled two racing teams for him, both up to world-class standards. Just to enter events, the new squad had to shell out two billion in anti-dilution fees to the organizers—not even counting the infamous Money-Burning Furnace Racing Team… But that was all beside the point. Once again, Wen Yan felt ashamed of his own narrow-minded assumptions. He’d figured the busy Liang Shijing had no time for his son and kept him isolated from the world. In truth, the exact opposite was true: Liang Shijing made sure Liang Wangyou mingled with plenty of kids his age, building friendships and enjoying all sorts of entertainment.
When it came to child-rearing, Liang Shijing was outstanding.
Fine, he excelled in every way—his mouth was the only problem…
Fine, the grudge lightened just a touch…
“Hello, who might you be?” A male omega approached and asked.
The man had refined features and a youthful face, trailed by a phalanx of stone-faced bodyguards in black. They now formed a tight circle around Wen Yan. He looked up to find the young omega sizing him up from head to toe. At the sight, the bodyguards lurking in the back row reached for their waist holsters. Wen Yan shot them a quick glance and gave a subtle shake of his head before turning back to the omega. “Something wrong?”
Liang Wangyou was having a great day. Wen Yan didn’t want to spoil it.
“Just curious.” The omega shoved his hands into the pockets of his exorbitantly priced coat and settled in beside him at a leisurely pace. “You’re a childcare worker?”
Wen Yan mumbled a vague affirmation.
The omega smiled faintly, already scheming.
Certain Alliance bigwigs had a habit of keeping pretty omegas and siring kids with them—a common enough scandal. His gaze followed the omega’s to the little Alpha on the floor. Ah, so it was that child… Liang Wangyou always traveled under an alias; no one knew his true identity, and no one could dig it up. Anyone whose background was a blank slate like that had to be some dignitary’s illegitimate offspring—the kind they kept well hidden. And this omega who’d claimed his seat while pretending to be a childcare worker? With a face like that and bespoke clothes head to toe, what else could he be but some Alpha’s dirty little secret of a mistress?
If not, when had the Capital ever seen a face like his?
“You’re in my seat right now. If you don’t mind, please move along—but wipe it down first, won’t you?” Rong Jin said.
The spectator seats were all in continuous rows, with no assigned spots or markers.
“You could always sit right here next to me.” Wen Yan delivered the line and then ignored him, scanning the little radish heads for Liang Wangyou.
Murmurs rippled through the onlookers. Vaguely, Wen Yan recalled some tabloid gossip from the TV: the entitled omega beside him was Rong Jin, a wealthy only child about to marry another rich heir. But Rong Jin had a five-year-old with his Little Uncle—the headlines had gleefully dubbed it “Whatever Happened to Little Uncle?”
“Didn’t you hear me?” Rong Jin turned to him with a saccharine smile.
Wen Yan pretended not to. Time was precious; every second away from watching Liang Wangyou was wasted. No point in banter, and he had zero interest in drama. But with no reply forthcoming—and stares boring in from behind—Rong Jin raised his voice. “Deaf or something?”
Some people were so accustomed to getting their way that they expected the whole world to bend.
Wen Yan shot him a cold look and stayed put, utterly at ease.
“Fine then.” Rong Jin beckoned the manager over. “This is supposed to be a private club setup, right? How do you let just anyone waltz in? Why wasn’t my seat held?”
The manager dithered, eyes darting between them. “Sorry, sir, but the chairs are less than twenty centimeters apart. This spot has a great view too.”
“If you can’t handle the job, don’t bother showing up tomorrow.” Rong Jin laughed, though there was no mirth in it.
Wen Yan frowned. How could anyone be this petty? Threatening a man’s livelihood over a seat? He sighed quietly. “Here, take it. Just leave him out of this—it has nothing to do with him.”
The manager beamed with relief, thanking him profusely.
Rong Jin tilted his chin up, his tone airy. “Too late.”
Wen Yan stared at his profile for a few seconds. “Then get lost.”
This omega only needed to speak civilly for him to yield the spot—it was hardly a big deal. Yet from the beginning, he had cloaked his arrogance in false courtesy. On the surface, there was nothing to fault, but resorting to power, money, and status to bully others over a mere seat? That was no way to use wealth, and chasing tabloid gossip hardly conferred any real standing. Power, though… Wen Yan simply couldn’t fathom it.
Rong Jin’s expression froze. In the circles he frequented, when had he ever endured such humiliation? With a bang, he smashed the coffee cup in his hand onto the floor. “Who do you think you are? Are you insane, speaking to me like that?”
The bodyguards who had been blending into the crowd slowly rose, one lifting his right hand to grip his gun.
The little radish heads on the training mat halted their movements and turned to look.
“I’m nobody special, but I do speak reason,” Wen Yan replied, sitting ramrod straight. “The hall has no reserved seat for you. Next time you want it, arrive earlier. Firing innocent people won’t prove your authority—and don’t forget to clean the floor.”
“Who’s the one backing you?” Rong Jin narrowed his eyes and demanded coldly.
Just then, Liang Wangyou and another little alpha dashed over from the mat. The two little radish heads planted themselves in front of Wen Yan. Sweat beaded on Liang Wangyou’s forehead and cheeks. He glanced at the spreading brown stain of coffee on the ground, then at the two glaring opponents, and finally at the wet splatter on Wen Yan’s shoe. Enraged, he stepped back twice, seized Wen Yan’s hand, and without pausing to hear both sides, fixed Rong Jin with a glare. “Get lost.”
Hereditary, as expected. An omega who told others to scram had raised a little alpha who did the same.
Another little alpha shoved through the crowd. Rong Jin drew him close, a mocking smile curling his lips. His own son had clashed with this little alpha before—mere childish spats over who was the best at taekwondo in the hall. Wen Yan knew nothing of it, but Rong Jin did. He had previously gone to great lengths investigating Liang Wangyou’s background, only to turn up empty-handed.
“Kid, do you even know what this omega is to your father?” Rong Jin asked, bending down with a smile toward Liang Wangyou.
The words pierced Wen Yan’s ears like a thorn, leading him to misinterpret completely. He couldn’t risk whether Rong Jin knew of the old affairs, recognized him, or even knew Liang Shijing. But above all, he could not involve Liang Wangyou. He gripped the boy’s sweaty hand in return and coaxed gently, “I’m fine. Let’s not bother with him. Want to keep practicing? I’ll switch seats and wait for you, all right?”
“Wen Yan, don’t be scared,” Liang Wangyou said, twisting to face him. “I’ll stand up for you. Father told me to protect you, anyway.”
“Little You, this omega talks like he reeks,” shot back the child beside Liang Wangyou—likely the “Dance King” friend he had mentioned. “Mind your own business first. It’s got nothing to do with you and your uncle fooling around.”
Whispers exploded in the wake of his words.
Rong Jin’s face twisted through several shades.
“Mr. Wen, Young Master.” The bodyguard approached, offering a half-bow in greeting. In a voice pitched just right—not too loud, not too soft—he recounted the incident to Liang Wangyou.
“Understood. Since you like that seat so much, make it your permanent throne.” Liang Wangyou shed his usual soft, adorable five-year-old persona, revealing his true nature. His cool, emotionless gaze swept the crowd. He jabbed a finger at Rong Jin, then gestured to the center spot. “Pin him there. Kill him if he fights back.”
