Chapter 29

“You stole my Wen Yan again!”

Liang Wangyou woke up at five in the morning to find that Wen Yan was no longer at Oak Bay. Good grief—after grilling Consul Ji, he discovered that Liang Shijing had whisked him off to the Chief’s Mansion the moment he’d returned the night before. With the bitter memory of that week-long overseas trip still fresh, Liang Wangyou skipped even his morning milk and stormed over to the Chief’s Mansion in a huff. Now the boy stood squarely in the middle of the carpet, bellowing his accusation.

“Wen Yan promised to spend the weekend with me! If you pull this again, I’ll tattle to him—and then you’ll be sorry!”

Liang Shijing had just dozed off for half a minute when the noise jolted him awake. Dressed in his pajamas, he crossed his arms. “Is there anything else?”

“Where is Wen Yan?” Liang Wangyou demanded furiously.

“Sleeping with me.”

“No way!”

“Keep yelling, and I’ll have you thrown out.”

“I want Wen Yan!”

Liang Shijing was at the end of his patience. He gripped the door handle and cracked open the door to the lounge just a sliver. Through the narrow gap seeped the dim interior of the room, mercifully lit by the faint glow filtering through the curtains that outlined the subtle rise and fall of the figure on the king-sized bed. From this distance, Liang Wangyou could only make out the top of Wen Yan’s head buried in the covers and the arm draped over the pillow. He stood on tiptoe, peering intently before stepping back and lowering his voice to grumble, “I want to go in and wait for him. Once he wakes up, we’re heading to the racetrack—we planned it yesterday.”

“You’re being very loud,” Liang Shijing pointed out.

“I won’t make a sound,” Liang Wangyou promised.

“Then where am I supposed to sleep?” Liang Shijing asked.

Liang Wangyou’s eyes darted around as he clutched his little backpack strap tighter. “Do you really have to sleep?”

“Liang Wangyou?”

“Wen Yan doesn’t like you. Wen Yan hates your guts. There’s no way he’d sleep with you!” Liang Wangyou jabbed straight at his old man’s sore spot.

“So what?” Liang Shijing fired back in quick succession. “He doesn’t hate me anymore. Didn’t you know? He hasn’t told you?”

“Wen Yan doesn’t like you—he likes me!” Liang Wangyou was livid, baring his two rows of little white teeth as he shoved at him repeatedly.

“Keep harping on that, and I’ll send you home right now,” Liang Shijing said, his face darkening.

“Fine…” Liang Wangyou drooped his head in defeat, looking utterly aggrieved. “I’m hungry. I want something to eat. I’ll wait outside.”

A staff member brought breakfast. Liang Wangyou refused to eat properly in the dining room and instead clambered into the chair where Liang Shijing usually worked. He munched away while fixating on the white door with gold trim to his left—Wen Yan could emerge from there at any moment, after all.

Liang Shijing leaned casually against the edge of the desk, a sandwich in hand, chewing impassively alongside him.

“Why is Wen Yan sleeping with you?” Liang Wangyou finally burst out.

“None of your business,” Liang Shijing replied.

“You said my dad is an omega,” Liang Wangyou murmured. “Wen Yan’s an omega too. Wen Yan’s last name is Wen, and so is mine. You like Wen Yan, and I like Wen Yan too.”

This was the first time in his young life that Liang Wangyou had ever brought up his father to Liang Shijing. Liang Shijing set down his food and wiped his hands with a hot towel from the tray.

“The teacher says grown-ups are sometimes in a tough spot,” Liang Wangyou continued on his own. “Does ‘tough spot’ mean ‘why sad’? Father, don’t be sad.”

Liang Shijing mimicked Wen Yan’s gesture, ruffling the boy’s hair. “It’s not sadness. It’s being out of control.”

Liang Wangyou blinked rapidly.

“It’s an idiom,” Liang Shijing explained. “It means your actions aren’t under your own command.”

“You can’t do it?” Liang Wangyou didn’t fully grasp the phrase “out of control,” but that didn’t stop his sharp mind from guessing the gist. In his eyes, there was nothing in the world his father couldn’t accomplish. Things others struggled to obtain, Liang Shijing claimed effortlessly—like the Aquarium building block set with only two limited-edition units worldwide, or mobilizing the army, amending legal clauses, or assembling a racing team for him in just a few days…

“Mm,” Liang Shijing said. “Isn’t there a taekwondo competition on the first of next month?”

Though it was a children’s event, it was at a national level with a grueling schedule and fierce competition.

“Wen Yan’s coming with me,” Liang Wangyou said smugly, his lips curving up.

Liang Shijing replied, “You don’t need to brag.”

Before long, father and son were at each other’s throats again…

Liang Wangyou thought for a moment. “Are you coming? I’ll take first place.”

Liang Shijing held a cup of warm milk to his lips. “I have a meeting that day, but I’ll head to the second-floor box afterward. The ranking doesn’t matter—Wen Yan says you’re great, and that’s how I see you too.”

Liang Wangyou gulped it down greedily, then wiped the milky mustache from his mouth. Liang Shijing eyed him with distaste.

“Father, you should go sleep,” Liang Wangyou said after finishing breakfast. He pulled out his textbook from his backpack. “I’m going to do homework now. Bye.”

He’d pulled an all-nighter meeting last night, and there was a diplomatic interview at eight. He had exactly one hour and thirty-six minutes left to rest. Liang Shijing said nothing, lowering his gaze to activate his wristband first.

Liang Wangyou sniffed. He caught no scent.

Then Liang Shijing stepped through that white door, approaching the dimly lit bed step by step. He lifted the edge of the covers on the left side and slipped in. Warm alpha pheromones spread along the blanket’s edge. The omega stirred groggily, seeking the source of the scent, and soon nestled his face into the alpha’s neck hollow of his own accord.

As the sun climbed higher, Wen Yan rolled over languidly on the vast bed until the last traces of sleep faded. He sat up halfway and glanced at the bright light seeping from behind the curtains.

Oh no!

He bolted out of bed and dashed into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He’d left his phone outside last night—Liang Wangyou must be waiting anxiously. He needed to call and apologize first. Not even bothering to wash his face, Wen Yan yanked open the door. Liang Wangyou looked up from the guest sofa. “Wen Yan, you’re awake?”

Wen Yan felt terrible. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Your phone alarm went off at seven, but I didn’t wake you,” Liang Wangyou said, sidling up to his leg.

“You’ve been here since morning?”

“Yeah.”

Wen Yan felt even worse. “Is the competition already over?”

“No big deal.” Liang Wangyou grinned. “Sometimes I don’t want to go to school and just sleep in at home too.”

“I promise it won’t happen again,” Wen Yan said, ruffling his hair. “Skipping school once in a while is fine.”

“That’s what Father said too,” Liang Wangyou replied.

Remembering he still hadn’t washed his face, Wen Yan stood and led him into the bathroom. Liang Wangyou waited obediently to the side as Wen Yan cupped a handful of warm water and pressed it to his cheeks. With damp brows and eyes, he met Liang Wangyou’s gaze. The two shared a smile. Liang Wangyou flushed a little shyly and bumped his back against the wall repeatedly. “Wen Yan, you look so good.”

Wen Yan smiled, his expression exceptionally clear and pure in the warm light.

Liang Wangyou helpfully grabbed a clean towel from the cabinet, then continued watching him through the mirror. The spotless surface reflected two faces, one large and one small, with identical soft facial contours and identical eyelashes that merged into a single black line.

Wen Yan wiped his face with the towel, and Liang Wangyou stared at his slender white fingers before extending his own and examining them.

Hearing people enter outside to report on work, Wen Yan turned and said, “Little You, shall we wait until they’ve left before we go out?”

“Okay.” Liang Wangyou blinked his eyes very slowly.

A few minutes later, Liang Shijing opened the door and announced it was time for lunch. Liang Wangyou ate the meal in complete silence. Liang Shijing furrowed his brows and glanced at him, his gaze shifting to Wen Yan’s face. The two men exchanged meaningful looks for several minutes without reaching any conclusion, which ended with Wen Yan shaking his head.

“Have you two quarreled?” Liang Shijing asked.

Wen Yan gazed nervously at Liang Wangyou, whose expression was impossible to read—neither happy nor unhappy.

“Are you feeling unwell, or just sleepy?” Wen Yan reached out to touch his forehead, but Liang Wangyou dodged away. This was the first time he had ever shown any rejection toward him. In the past, a simple pat on the head would make Liang Wangyou nuzzle affectionately into his palm like a little puppy. Wen Yan’s hand froze in midair, his heart tightening bit by bit. His gaze trembled as he instinctively looked toward Liang Shijing, who set down his chopsticks. “Why aren’t you answering when Wen Yan speaks to you?”

In a low voice, Liang Wangyou said, “Father, I want to go home and sleep.”

Just moments earlier, they had talked about playing in the back garden together, yet now Liang Wangyou refused his touch and wouldn’t speak to him.

Liang Shijing rose and approached. He first touched Wen Yan’s forehead—no fever. Then he checked the little one’s forehead—no fever there, either.

“Go downstairs yourself and have the bodyguards take you back.”

Liang Wangyou silently left the restaurant, with Liang Shijing following right after. Wen Yan continued to reflect on himself until footsteps sounded from behind—Liang Shijing returning. In a panic, he grabbed his sleeve. “Is Little You angry?”

“He’s just sleepy,” Liang Shijing replied indifferently, gripping Wen Yan’s hand in return.

Wen Yan released his hold, utterly dejected.

“Eat,” Liang Shijing said. “I’ll take you back after.”

“You need my pheromones, so I’m right here. Otherwise, it’d be a waste.” Sadly, the omega opened his neck ring.

At Oak Bay, Consul Ji waited at the parking area with the servants. Liang Wangyou dragged his backpack downstairs by himself, ignoring everyone who tried to speak to him. He returned straight to his room, slipped into the study, took out his tablet, pressed the voice button, and said word for word: “How to determine if an omega is your father.”

The search results were varied, but the two most crucial ones were:

1. Paternity test.

2. Smell pheromones.

The informational article explained: Before formal differentiation, alphas and omegas can detect pheromones but aren’t affected by them. However, it’s the complete opposite for blood-related alphas and omegas. In the course of human evolution, to avoid ethical risks, biological children—whether before or after differentiation—cannot smell their parents’ pheromone scent and remain unaffected by it.

The passage was difficult for a five-year-old who had only recently learned to read, and Liang Wangyou didn’t recognize many of the words. He looked them up one by one, spending more than an hour to fully understand it.

Cicadas chirped outside the window before summer had even arrived.

Liang Wangyou sat there in a daze for a while, then searched: “Why doesn’t Daddy want me?”

This time, the answers were a bizarre mix—some good, some bad, some comforting, some rational.

In the evening, Wen Yan returned to Oak Bay alone. Consul Ji told him that Liang Wangyou had already eaten dinner and retreated early to his room. Wen Yan sat at the table without any appetite. As he passed Liang Wangyou’s room on the way upstairs, he lingered, wanting to knock but terrified that the boy was angry. Without Liang Wangyou, the vast Oak Bay felt like a stagnant pool. Time had always seemed to fly by before, but today, after sitting in his room for what felt like an eternity, only three hours had passed.

The night had grown deep when the door suddenly clicked. He ran over happily to greet the visitor.

“Seeing me looking so miserable?” Liang Shijing paused, hand on the doorknob.

“No.” Wen Yan lowered his head. “I thought it was Little You.”

“Still moping?” Liang Shijing stepped closer. Wen Yan activated the neck ring switch—it hurt, but not unbearably so—and said, “I can’t understand why Little You suddenly ignores me. Can you tell me what I did wrong? I’ll make sure to fix it.”

“It’s just a mood swing. Don’t mind it.” Liang Shijing’s wrist let out a click.

“I want to rest,” Wen Yan whispered, holding his breath. Lately, his gland had been throbbing fiercely for no apparent reason.

Three days slipped by in a blur. They were school days, and by the time Wen Yan woke each morning, Liang Wangyou had already left. He trailed after Liang Shijing to the Chief’s Mansion in a daze, spending the entire day there. When they returned around dinnertime, Liang Wangyou had eaten and was attending tutoring sessions with other teachers. Wen Yan waited in silent anxiety. On one hand, he told himself Liang Wangyou didn’t need him specifically—just like that night in the car, when waking up required only Liang Shijing’s embrace. On the other, he reassured himself it was temporary, and in the few remaining days ahead, Liang Wangyou would still adore him.

With the Taekwondo Competition drawing near, the door sounded once more late at night. By now accustomed to it, Wen Yan kept his eyes closed. These past few days, Liang Shijing always checked in on him upon returning home—likely needing pheromones, Wen Yan figured. Eyes shut, he activated the neck ring switch. A few minutes passed, then suddenly a warm little hand pressed against his nape.

Wen Yan’s eyes flew open. In the moonlight, Liang Wangyou crouched at the bedside, undoing his neck ring.