Waiters glided past one side of the classical orchestra, trays of champagne balanced gracefully in their hands as they offered a lady a flute glass half-filled with amber liquid. She responded with an elegant smile before turning back to her murmured conversation.
This was a lavish and imposing banquet hall, brimming with the mingled scents of perfume and the luster of carefully coiffed hair.
The guests stood or sat in clusters, the men in subdued suits and the women in striking yet refined gowns. Everyone observed the strictest social graces, faint smiles gracing their faces. Were any reporters present, they would have recognized this as a gathering of national elite; the lowest-ranking attendee was the Minister of Finance, who lingered humbly at the room’s edge.
A subtle fragrance blended with chilled air that drifted down from the soaring, dozens-of-meters-high domed ceiling, wafting over exquisite ukiyo-e murals.
The only truly lively spot in the hall was the central area around the three-meter cake, where a gaggle of little radish heads clustered around the pure gold courtesy pillar, chattering excitedly. These children were no strangers to extravagance—most had enjoyed cakes this grand on their own birthdays. But none had ever received an ocean-themed masterpiece like this, complete with a fondant model seemingly floating on choppy waves: a sea otter mom, her baby nestled asleep against the soft skin of her belly.
“Wow~”
“So pretty.”
“Which pastry chef made this? I want one just like it for my birthday.”
The little radish heads stared in wide-eyed awe.
Liang Wangyou stood at the forefront. If he had a tail, it would have been wagging clear to the heavens. Today marked his official birthday, and he cut a dashing figure in his crisp black mini-suit, his hair styled to perfection in an adult fashion.
“You couldn’t buy this or hire anyone to make it,” he declared proudly, hands planted on his hips. “It’s the most unique cake in the world—my dad made it for me.”
“You’re full of it,” Jin Shu shot back. “How come I never knew you had a dad?”
The other little radish heads were too fixated on the cake to pay their squabble any mind, even with a veritable mountain of gifts piled nearby. Liang Wangyou’s boasting rang a bit hollow, truth be told.
“You’re so annoying. I do have a dad. He hasn’t acknowledged me yet, but he definitely will someday!”
Jin Shu, more worldly than the rest, eyed him with concern, convinced the boy was hallucinating from sheer longing for a father…
“Did Chief Uncle make it?” piped up a little girl standing nearby—the very little omega Liang Wangyou had patted on the head during the taekwondo competition.
“He wouldn’t touch this stuff. He’s hopeless at it—brilliant at work, but useless otherwise. Yesterday, he couldn’t even twist off a bottle cap and had to beg my dad to do it for him,” Liang Wangyou boasted on.
The little girl blinked in confusion.
“All right, I’ll let you in on it, but you can’t tell anyone. It was my omega dad—the one who gave birth to me. He’s so good to me. He really likes me.”
“Where is he, then?”
“Um… I can’t say. But we made a deal: he’ll be watching me all evening.”
The little girl craned her neck, searching high and low. Her short stature afforded her only glimpses of trousered legs and the hems of banquet gowns. After a fruitless scan, she turned back, flashed Jin Shu a shy smile, and said,
“Jin Shu’s been staring at you the whole time.”
Jin Shu burst out laughing. Liang Wangyou pouted in annoyance and sneaked a glance toward the second floor.
Up on the aerial walkway, concealed in a blind spot from below, Wen Yan gave him a faint wave from afar. Only then did Liang Wangyou’s pout soften into a grin.
Accompanying Liang Shijing and Liang Wangyou to events like this was an ordeal for Wen Yan. He yearned to stand openly at the boy’s side, but he could not. His presence would only bring trouble to Liang Wangyou and cast a negative shadow on Liang Shijing. A handful of the guests downstairs had served at the Chief’s Mansion for years—like the old steward in charge of meals. This cadre oversaw the daily lives of successive Chiefs, and they knew Wen Yan just as he knew them.
The previous evening, when he’d broached the idea of attending the banquet without showing his face, Liang Shijing’s expression had darkened instantly. He’d agreed in the end, though whether lingering resentment explained his absence all night remained unclear…
Incognito or not, the aerial walkway lay under strict control, barring anyone from ascending. A cushioned armchair, a small walnut round table, delectable pastries, and tangy-sweet fruit juices had been laid out in advance. He wanted for nothing, and from his perch, the entire banquet hall unfolded below like a living tapestry.
Wen Yan felt a quiet joy. He could watch Liang Wangyou from every angle while sharing in the boy’s delight.
Moments later, a bodyguard approached from the stairwell’s bend, hands pressed to his seams as he bowed. “Mr. Wen, Foreign Minister Lin wishes to see you.”
Lin Yichu served as the Minister of Foreign Affairs.
The bodyguard’s deferential manner made Wen Yan feel like the evening’s true host. He rose hastily. “Bring him up at once.”
Minutes passed before two bodyguards escorted Lin Yichu into view. Wen Yan hurried forward to meet him. “I’m sorry, Uncle. I didn’t intend to—in a setting like this today—”
“No matter.” Lin Yichu offered a gentle smile and looked him over from head to toe. “How did you blink and turn into such a handsome young man?”
Wen Yan had opted for a subdued matte-gray suit, foregoing a tie to let the crisp collar stand out against his white shirt. He was slender, with long, straight legs and an air of effortless elegance. Lin Yichu praised him again.
His everyday wardrobe came courtesy of consultations between his designer and Consul Ji. Wen Yan rubbed the back of his neck, abashed. “I haven’t dressed this formally in ages.” Back at Oak Bay or coming and going from the Chief’s Mansion, his style ran far more casual.
Lin Yichu took a sip of his wine, his gaze turning pensive.
Wen Yan knew what weighed on his mind. Were Wen Zecheng still alive to see him like this, he would have been overjoyed.
“Uncle Lin, have you been busy lately?” Wen Yan steered the conversation elsewhere.
“Endlessly,” Lin Yichu replied with a straightforward quip. “The Ministry of Foreign Affairs keeps you in the air—here one day, there the next, like a bird that never lands.”
“Is your health holding up?”
“Well enough. The medical team runs regular checks. And you, child? You used to drop by my office every day, but I haven’t seen you at the Chief’s Mansion lately.”
Wen Yan rubbed his face, discomfort settling in. Things weren’t ideal. His gland had merely ached before, but ever since Liang Shijing had accidentally pressed on the neck ring with his finger, it had started leaking bloody fluid. It wasn’t dire, though. He’d meant to gauge Liang Shijing’s feelings toward him a bit longer. If he confided the truth after tonight, he wouldn’t leave regardless of whether a cure existed—only he couldn’t let Liang Wangyou know.
He hoped that Liang Shijing would definitely help him. He hoped that Liang Shijing still liked him, even just a little…
But now Liang Shijing was angry. How was he supposed to coax him?
“Not feeling well? Why aren’t you saying anything?” Lin Yichu asked in surprise when he received no reply.
“Mm. A while back, I was at home taking care of Little You. He was sick at the time,” Wen Yan replied evasively.
“He’s about to start summer vacation, isn’t he? Bring him out to meet sometime. I’ve never given the boy a proper grandfather’s welcome gift, even though he’s called me Grandpa plenty of times.”
Liang Wangyou occasionally visited the Chief’s Mansion to play, so he knew Lin Yichu.
“Uncle, you absolutely cannot let it slip,” Wen Yan said with a knowing smile.
“He doesn’t know about your relationship?” Lin Yichu turned to him in astonishment. “Does he not know about your father either? Has Liang Shijing been keeping it from him all this time?”
“Probably,” Wen Yan murmured. “Adult matters don’t need to be shared with children. It’s good enough to stay by his side like this for now. If I get the chance…” If he got the chance to keep living…
Lin Yichu nodded. “Uncle understands. Tell him when you’re ready.”
Suddenly, a burst of small cheers erupted from the cake area downstairs. The photographer was snapping a commemorative shot of Liang Wangyou and the massive cake. Standing on a tall chair, Liang Wangyou puckered his lips to kiss the little sea otter perched on top. The other children crowded around, clapping for him, and it thrilled him to no end.
“You weren’t nearly this mischievous when you were his age,” Lin Yichu teased with a meaningful smile.
Wen Yan laughed along, his gaze softening as it settled on Little Alpha. “His personality isn’t like mine at all. He’s bold, but so thoughtful too—always reading the room when he talks or acts. Not like me. I’m pretty clueless. Sometimes I don’t even catch what people really mean.”
Lin Yichu glanced at him and smiled without a word. A few seconds later, he glanced again.
“Is something wrong, Uncle?” Wen Yan asked, puzzled.
Lin Yichu kept smiling that knowing smile, and Wen Yan finally caught on. That remark about not being “as naughty” had been a sly jab at Liang Shijing all along. Wen Yan had no idea if Liang Shijing had been naughty as a child. All he knew was that the man was petty as an adult—from sulking since last night without showing his face. And here was Lin Yichu, poking the bear. “Where’s the Chief?”
“No idea,” Wen Yan said awkwardly. “Probably busy.”
Lin Yichu fell silent, his expression turning sour.
In the eyes of an elder like him, it didn’t matter how deep the hatred had run between the omega and alpha families in the past, or how tangled their lives had become to produce Liang Wangyou. To him, they were just kids. The previous generation’s messes weren’t their fault. Now that they were together, they needed to make it work. He didn’t want to see the omega hiding out here yesterday while the alpha came looking, only for the alpha to skip the child’s birthday today and leave the omega fretting.
Young people placed so much stock in pride, sacrificing what truly mattered inside. They’d wake up to it eventually… Lin Yichu understood that. “The past is smoke on the wind”—that wisdom only came with age. At his stage in life, nothing mattered more than time. He felt old, though. Love was a young person’s game, and everyone survived it eventually.
Downstairs, they were blowing out the candles amid waves of laughter and well-wishes. The banquet hall quieted once more after the brief burst of excitement. Liang Wangyou had received blessings from so many—some sincere, some not—and now he carried the most beautifully sliced piece of cake, sneaking up the shadowed stairwell corner.
“Very considerate,” Lin Yichu remarked.
Wen Yan grinned. “Bet you he goes back down for another trip.”
