Chapter 43

The double doors of the Chief’s Suite swung open from the outside. Liang Wangyou stormed in, fuming as he marched to the desk and slammed his canvas backpack onto it with a loud bang. Inside, the scattered “rocks” clinked against each other with a crisp sound.

“Tell me! Did you upset Wen Yan again?!”

“He hasn’t spoken for days now!”

“It has to be you. You took him away that night on his birthday!”

“Did you hit him or something?”

Liang Shijing ignored him completely, continuing to handle his work. Liang Wangyou’s little face tightened. “Say something!”

After all that fussing, Liang Shijing still showed no reaction.

“No more work!” Liang Wangyou snatched his father’s fountain pen in one swift motion and tossed it onto the desk with a clatter. “Whether you did something wrong or not, go apologize to Wen Yan!”

The atmosphere at Oak Bay had been oppressively gloomy these past few days, to the point of infuriation. The omega stayed holed up in his room all day, refusing to come out. If not for Consul Ji delivering meals on schedule, it would have felt like he wasn’t even there. In the past, when the omega was upset, Little Alpha could easily knock on his door and cheer him up. But now, even that didn’t work. As for the big Alpha, he hadn’t been home in days either.

Liang Wangyou paced anxiously in circles around Liang Shijing. “Father, Father, Father!”

“Quiet.” Liang Shijing finally snapped, his voice cold as he grew irritated by the circling.

“You dare yell at me?!” Liang Wangyou glared at him furiously. “It’s all your fault. You must have made Wen Yan mad. Every time it’s because of you that he’s in a bad mood. You are so annoying.”

Liang Shijing: “Out!”

“Wen Yan would never yell at me like that!” Liang Wangyou shouted. “It’s all your fault. Wen Yan praises you every day, but you always upset him. He’s never said a bad word about you, says you’re great. But you’re not great at all. You always snap at him. Liang Shijing, you’re the most detestable person.” Liang Wangyou actually called him by his full name. Liang Shijing turned his expressionless face away. “If you know he’s upset, why did you come out here? You’re as stupid as a pig. Go back and keep him company now.”

“No way!” Liang Wangyou looked like he was about to cry, his mouth puckered as he stubbornly held back. “You go apologize! You’re the one who upset him, so you have to make it up to him!”

“I even prepared gifts for you!” He yanked open the zipper of his canvas backpack. It was stuffed to the brim with all sorts of gems and diamonds, jostling together in a colorful pile. They were top-quality, flawless and crystal clear—items even elite collectors couldn’t afford. Yet these priceless treasures had been casually carried out of the house by a child who had just turned six, packed in a kindergarten-issued bag for a field trip.

“He doesn’t like these,” Liang Shijing said after a glance.

“How could he not? Jin Shu said that whenever his dad upsets his mom, he buys her these,” Liang Wangyou replied. “You haven’t even given him any, so how do you know he doesn’t like them?” He shoved the backpack forward. “You take them first. I have more if these aren’t enough. If Wen Yan really doesn’t like them, just tell me, and I’ll buy him some.”

Liang Shijing ignored him. Liang Wangyou tugged at his pant leg. “Did you hear me?”

Still, Liang Shijing paid him no mind. Suddenly, Liang Wangyou felt wronged. “Father, don’t fight with Wen Yan. I don’t want to see you two arguing. I want the three of us together. I want to eat meals with you and play games together.” With that, his eyes reddened, and he stubbornly wiped at the corner of his eye.

His little mind couldn’t grasp why the adults were in a cold war, but brushing aside the reason, he’d probably spent these days racking his brain for ways to make up—maybe searching online, asking friends or teachers. At that thought, Liang Shijing’s expression softened imperceptibly. “You don’t need to worry about this. I know what to do.”

Of course, the Alpha had never brushed off Little Alpha. Promises made were always kept. He never placated him with empty words and waited for him to forget. From a young age, he’d taught him right from wrong, which was why Little Alpha was so bright. And Little Alpha always understood, never resorting to tantrums—he knew when to stop. But this time, he was insistent, refusing to let the Alpha off until he went back with him right now.

“That night on his birthday, you two were getting along so well. I saw you carry Wen Yan away, but you must have bullied him. Wen Yan can’t argue with you or fight you, so he could only be sad all by himself.” Tears finally spilled from Liang Wangyou’s eyes. “You bully him, and no one helps him. If I don’t stand up for him, he’ll be even sadder… I don’t even know if Wen Yan has money. When he’s sad, can he buy nice things to eat…?”

Liang Shijing pulled the necklace from around his neck. “What do you think this is?”

“Not now!” Liang Wangyou pushed his hand away. His low sobs began to echo softly in the office. He cried quietly, desperately wiping his tears with the back of his hand until the corners of his eyes were red. “You’re already so strong. Why do you have to bully Wen Yan too…?”

When Little Alpha cried, he looked just like the omega—thanks to their shared genetics, they both had long, thick lashes that clumped together when wet, making them appear even darker and denser. Right now, Little Alpha, crying right in front of him, looked exactly like the omega… Liang Shijing couldn’t bear to watch. He tilted his head back, squeezing his eyes shut tightly for a moment before opening them again and reaching for Liang Wangyou’s hand. But Liang Wangyou, in a fit of temper, refused to let him. The father and son tugged back and forth until Liang Wangyou let out a wail and threw himself into his arms, crying loudly.

“Why do you defend him so fiercely?” Liang Shijing asked softly, his palm resting gently on the back of the boy’s head.

“He’s my dad…” Liang Wangyou answered between sobs. “The omega who gave birth to me…”

“When did you find out? Why didn’t you say anything?” A rare blank expression crossed Liang Shijing’s face.

“Wen Yan didn’t tell me. He hasn’t acknowledged me… What if I said something and he denied it? Then I’d really have no dad…”

Liang Shijing fell silent, but he understood completely.

Human nature is fundamentally conservative. Once certain words are spoken, there’s no taking them back. Unable to bear the cost of rejection, the alpha had thought this way five years ago—he wanted to get everything done before the omega stopped his medication. As for starting over, how to start, or when… those could wait for the endless days ahead. And now the alpha was thinking the same thing: wait for those endless days, wait for the omega to fully recover his memories, wait for the omega to give him an answer of his own accord. That secret hope buried deep in his heart couldn’t be voiced aloud. It couldn’t be rushed. The omega was like a timid turtle—touch him, and he’d shrink back into his shell, hiding away somewhere impossible to find.

—But the alpha had no idea that the omega’s days weren’t endless.

“Be good and go back to him now,” Liang Shijing coaxed softly. “This weekend, we’ll take him to the island to relax.”

“You’re lying…” Liang Wangyou sniffled and lifted his head. “You’re always working. How could you have time…?”

Liang Shijing grimaced at his snot and pushed him away, picking up a file from the desk. “What do you think I’ve been working overtime for, if not this?”

For an alpha, work was never truly finished. Only by pushing urgent tasks ahead—again and again, at the cost of overtaxing his body—could he carve out dozens of hours to spend with the omega and Little Alpha. Just like countless families around the world, he wanted to take them on a summer vacation during the child’s break, sharing a brief, joyful holiday together.

Hearing this promise, Liang Wangyou settled down obediently. He grabbed a tissue, wiped his nose and face, slung his little stone-patterned backpack over his shoulder, and left. The child was under his nose every day, yet time flew by silently. He’d quietly grown a year older, no longer as clingy as before. He left without fuss. But instead of rushing out of the Chief’s Mansion, he headed straight to the first-floor Office of the Foreign Affairs Department, where Lin Yichu worked, moving with familiar ease.

“Little You?” Lin Yichu was in the same posture as Liang Shijing, seated behind his desk with a towering stack of files beside him. Spotting Liang Wangyou peeking through the half-open door, he set down his papers, stood, and pulled the boy inside. He examined the child’s reddened eyes. “You’ve been crying? What happened? Did you fall somewhere? Where’s the person watching you?”

Liang Wangyou stayed silent, just staring at him. After a moment, he slowly unzipped his canvas backpack.

“Well, well.” Lin Yichu let out an admiring chuckle. “Did someone scold you? Bringing out all these treasures?”

“Grandpa, this is a gift for you. Pick one, but only one.” Liang Wangyou said, “The rest are for Wen Yan.”

“For me?” Lin Yichu teased. “Only one? Why give me something so valuable?”

Liang Wangyou explained, “Because you gave me a birthday present. I heard Wen Yan say he wanted to give you one too—that ring is expensive, I know. But I don’t know if Wen Yan has money to buy it for you, so pick one here. I’ll give it to you on his behalf.”

Lin Yichu froze.

The little alpha was so thoughtful, so considerate. He even knew to return a favor.

Liang Wangyou added, “These are from my own Safe Room. I just showed Father. He knows.”

“Kid.” Lin Yichu sighed, ruffling his hair. “Grandpa doesn’t need these. Thank you for thinking of me.”

The little alpha was clever and innocent. He’d never seen the omega buy things, so he assumed he had no money. But he was perceptive too—if the omega’s face lacked that gentle smile, it meant the alpha had upset him. And the little alpha was assertive. When Lin Yichu refused, he reached deep into his backpack, pulled out the largest gem, shoved it into Lin Yichu’s hand, and turned to leave. He was in a hurry—to get back to Oak Bay and keep Wen Yan company.

But this time, Wen Yan still didn’t open the door. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to; his gland truly hurt too much. The strong painkillers lasted shorter and shorter now. Two pills used to hold him for eight hours; now, they barely managed four.

“Wen Yan, can you open just a tiny bit?” Liang Wangyou pleaded sweetly. “Just a little. I have something for you.”

But blood was still trickling from the back of his neck. He couldn’t let the child see, so Wen Yan pretended he’d just showered. He grabbed a towel from the Bathroom, pressed it to his nape, and cracked the door open just a sliver under the pretense of drying his hair. Through that narrow gap, he forced a pale smile.

Liang Wangyou tilted his face up, beaming earnestly at him. Then he squatted down and rolled the gems one by one through the door, gradually piling them into a little mountain.

“Father told me to give these to you. He says he’s sorry, and that this weekend he’ll take you somewhere you like to play. He wants you to wait for him. Oh, and also—he hasn’t come home these past few days because he has to finish work early so he can go with you.”

Wen Yan’s heart softened into a pang. He knew Liang Wangyou was lying.

He’d never understood the saying “when parents don’t get along, the children suffer.” Watching Liang Wangyou brace against the carpet to roll in gem after gem, head bowed, avoiding his eyes while speaking up for Liang Shijing… he suddenly got it. The child was young, but he saw the tension between the adults. Though he didn’t grasp why, he was eager to mediate. Liang Wangyou was clumsily, cautiously trying to mend things between him and Liang Shijing. He was trying so hard…

While the boy wasn’t looking, Wen Yan discreetly wiped away his tears and reached out to caress Liang Wangyou’s warm cheek.

“Got it. Thank your father for me. Baby, you be good.”

“So… can we eat together later?” Liang Wangyou blushed shyly. “Consul Ji prepared lots of good food for you. And yesterday I picked grapes for you at the Botanical Garden. I peel them really well.”

“Wen Yan, will you eat?”

“Yes.” Wen Yan struggled to steady the tremor in his throat. “Give me a minute to shower, and I’ll come down for dinner right away.”

“Whew~” Suddenly, Liang Wangyou collapsed to the floor like he’d run eight hundred meters, stretching out his little arms and legs. He grinned and leaned his head against the doorframe. “Wen Yan, I’ll just wait right here then.”

“Aren’t you going to peel the grapes? Wait downstairs, okay?”

Liang Wangyou’s face fell for half a second before blooming into a smile again. “Okay!”

Wen Yan shut the door and, covering his eyes, hurried into the Bathroom.

Heredity truly was a terrifying thing, deeply etched into one’s DNA. Like Little Alpha moments before, the omega wiped at his tears with the back of his hand, rubbing his eyes until they were red at the corners. Yet he was terrified of wasting time, so he forced himself to calm down and splashed cold water on his face. Then he picked up the syringe from the bathroom counter and drew out blood rich in pheromones from his gland.

Wen Yan had no idea whether Liang Shijing’s pheromone addiction had improved at all. Better safe than sorry. While he could still extract it, he drew out as much as possible and stored it all away for the alpha. He hoped Liang Shijing would never need it—but if he did, it would be ready right when the time came.

The safe room lay at the deepest end of the suite, dim blue lights glowing faintly from fixtures in each of the four corners. The shelves embedded in the walls stood empty. When the omega had returned to the Capital, he’d brought only a few changes of clothes; he had nothing valuable enough to store in this perpetually chilled vault. His one precious possession was the refrigerated medical box. He walked over and opened it. Both the upper and lower compartments were already filled with syringes of crimson blood.

In just a few short days, he’d stockpiled quite a lot. It should be enough to cover the alpha’s needs for the next several years, shouldn’t it? He hoped Hu Li’s team could develop a treatment for pheromone addiction in the meantime—one that would free him from his suffering once and for all.

With everything taken care of, Wen Yan changed clothes and headed downstairs for the first time in ages. Liang Shijing had returned at some point and now sat side by side with Liang Wangyou on the sofa, peeling grapes. Wen Yan’s hand drifted up instinctively to toggle the switch on his neck ring—until he remembered he hadn’t worn it in ages. Of course, Liang Shijing hadn’t forced the issue either.

“Wen Yan, you’re all cleaned up!” Liang Wangyou bounced happily off the sofa and ran over to grab his hand. “Are you hungry? Consul Ji said dinner’s still five minutes out. They made cheese mini cakes just for you—and tons of other yummy stuff too.”

“Then we’ll dig in big time later.” Smiling, Wen Yan let the boy lead him to the sofa. They sat well away from Liang Shijing, a lovely fruit bowl on the coffee table before them, brimming with peeled, crisp grapes. Each one gleamed, bursting with juice.

“Wen Yan, I peeled most of these!” Liang Wangyou pushed the bowl proudly toward him, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Dad did a few. I didn’t want his help at first, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

He thought he was being quiet, but everyone heard him crystal clear.

Wen Yan ruffled his hair like always. “Thank you, Baby.” The grapes all looked identical, so he couldn’t tell whose were whose. He just picked selectively from Liang Wangyou’s side of the bowl. Sour-sweet perfection, chilled just right—delicious. No sooner had he finished the one in his mouth than Liang Shijing dropped a freshly peeled grape onto Liang Wangyou’s side. Wen Yan ignored it, casually shifting his reach in another direction.

Liang Wangyou beamed, chattering away nonstop. Wen Yan listened with a smile, his fingers subtly repositioning in the bowl with each grape he took. He thought he was being sneaky, but the alpha noticed. Liang Shijing realized he was being snubbed. He popped the grape from his own hand into his mouth, only to grimace and spit it straight into a napkin. Liang Wangyou shot him a disgusted look and tugged Wen Yan away.

From that evening straight through to their weekend departure for the island, those four days saw Oak Bay slip back into its old routines. Bodyguards multiplied, and restrictions on Wen Yan’s movements returned with a vengeance. Liang Shijing had once quietly allowed him to head out for fun or visit Li Li; now that was off-limits, and Consul Ji shadowed him everywhere he went.

Wen Yan accepted it all with quiet equanimity, never uttering a single word of protest.

The night before they left, Liang Shijing came home early and strode into the room without knocking. Warm orange light spilled from the wall sconce above the king-sized bed. Wen Yan, half-propped against the headboard with a book in hand, looked up to meet his gaze in silence.

Faint shadows bruised the skin beneath Liang Shijing’s eyes—he clearly hadn’t been sleeping well.

Wen Yan wondered if what Liang Wangyou had whispered through the door crack was true after all. But he was past caring. If Liang Shijing was keeping up appearances for the boy’s sake, then so be it—he’d play along. Liang Wangyou didn’t deserve any of this. In these final days, Wen Yan would do what he could to give the child the illusion of a happy family.

So he spoke first. “Is there something you need?”

His tone was perfectly even—neither servile nor defiant, neither warm nor cold.

“To see you.” Liang Shijing held out his palm, something cupped loosely inside. Wen Yan caught the faint, crisp click and glanced down—agate cufflinks, just as expected. He didn’t care for wearing them and always ditched them the moment he reached the Chief’s Mansion, but he’d kept them on lately. Wen Yan let it go; he was done speculating.

“I’m a little tired.” He snapped the book shut and twisted off the light, as if alone in the room. “Good night.”

He shut his eyes and feigned sleep, aware that Liang Shijing hadn’t budged. He had no interest in asking why. Undeterred, the alpha sank onto the edge of the bed. “We’ll leave once you’re awake tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Wen Yan murmured.

“If you’d rather go somewhere else, say the word now. We can change plans.”

“Okay.”

“If there’s anything else you want to do, tell me.”

“Okay.”

“Nothing at all?” Liang Shijing pressed.

“There is.”

“What?”

“You can go.”

Liang Shijing fell silent. In the darkness, he sat there for a very long time.