Wen Yan stepped out of his room in utter embarrassment. Yesterday, he’d bragged about rising early, but without his phone, he’d asked Consul Ji to wake him at seven. Well, he assumed he simply hadn’t heard it—without a thought for whether Consul Ji had called at all.
“Good morning, Mr. Wen,” Consul Ji said warmly, emerging from the elevator. It seemed he was here to summon him for lunch…
Lunch was already laid out in the small restaurant. Wen Yan had worried Liang Shijing might grumble, but to his surprise, Liang Shijing appeared to be in high spirits, pacing the back garden on a phone call.
He flicked open the switch on his neck ring. Thanks to the painkillers he’d taken ahead of time, it wasn’t too bad.
Minutes later, Liang Shijing entered. They ate in utter silence until the thundering roar of helicopter rotors echoed from the sky.
“All done?” Liang Shijing asked.
Wen Yan nodded.
They boarded the helicopter on the lawn, transferred to a plane at the airport, and pressed on. This state visit was to one of the Alliance of Eight Nations, situated in the northern hemisphere of Sailes Star. The flight would take roughly two and a half hours.
The plane sliced diagonally into the clouds. Through the porthole, Wen Yan glimpsed two military starships escorting them beneath the cloud deck, their enormous shadows stretching across it like a pair of black whales gliding through a sea of mist.
No sooner had they boarded than Liang Shijing settled into the wide, plush leather seat opposite, diving into official business. Documents towered beside his hand, his slightly bowed head revealing the sharp, handsome, and aloof lines of his upper face.
“What are you staring at?” he asked abruptly.
“N-Nothing.” Wen Yan turned to the window, his neck turning a touch stiffly.
“What’s wrong with your neck?” Liang Shijing shot him a glance.
“You focus on your work and leave me be. The neck ring’s on.”
“I know.”
Wen Yan fidgeted uneasily, prompting Liang Shijing to ask, “Got ants in your pants?”
After a long stretch of silence, Wen Yan ventured, “You can really smell my pheromones?”
Was this neck ring truly that remarkable? A custom model that released pheromones solely through vibrations, without impacting Alphas? Perhaps he could quiz Hu Li or Li Li about it sometime.
“Yes. Happy now?” Liang Shijing looked up from his papers.
“Very. As long as it helps treat you without hindering you.” Wen Yan offered a faint smile. He dreaded wasting effort and delaying Liang Shijing’s recovery.
Liang Shijing fixed him with a steady gaze for two seconds, then drew an injector from his coat pocket. “Go crash in the rest room by yourself.”
Wen Yan desperately wanted to lie down, but with Liang Shijing clearly in the throes of another episode—and his pheromones evidently required—he couldn’t abandon ship. “I won’t say another word. Goodbye.” He squeezed his eyes shut, feigning oblivion, but soon drifted into real slumber. He awoke to the plane taxiing down the runway.
Chief Secretary Cheng Zhu approached with a black case in hand to report. “Chief, ground secure, airspace clear. Security team’s checking in every thirty seconds.”
“Mm.” Liang Shijing shrugged into his coat.
The cabin door swung open, ushering in a rush of humid, balmy air. The Chief of the Host Country and his Chief’s Wife waited at the base of the stairs.
Wen Yan had witnessed such spectacles dozens of times as a youth alongside Wen Zecheng, though never with Liang Shijing. He strove to resemble a personal secretary. This felt like a private visit—no press corps, no rigid protocols, no sprawling entourage of aides.
The Chief of the Host Country clasped Liang Shijing’s hand, chatting idly about the weather and their packed schedules. Their easy banter bespoke a genuine rapport.
Wen Yan trailed precisely one meter behind Liang Shijing—the textbook secretary’s distance. Descending, he plucked a file from Liang Shijing’s stack and clutched it to his chest for added authenticity…
Lost in reverie, he found the refined Omega Chief’s Wife standing before him. “Hiding in the shadows without a peep? It’s been ages.”
Bewildered, Wen Yan extended his hand with composed grace. “Hello.”
The clouds drifted white and languid overhead as the black sedan swept past the sprawling, desolate private airstrip, sunlight unfurling across the sky like a tidal swell. Wen Yan mused silently: that gentleman must have mistaken him for someone else—the one fond of “crunching potato chips” and “Botanical Garden owner”?
Liang Shijing bringing his Omega on a state visit was par for the course. But now, pheromones necessitated bringing Wen Yan along. It had to rankle him—a loathsome necessity he couldn’t escape.
Half an hour later, they pulled up to the Chief’s Mansion of the host country. Modest in scale, it was flanked by lofty sword pines and tulips that grew straight and unbranching along the verdant path. From the car to the grand hall, Wen Yan walked abreast with the Chief’s Wife, who was an S-level Omega himself. His long black hair cascaded over a gray suit; he was perhaps in his mid-thirties, his smile warm, his voice melodious.
“Why so long without stepping out?” the Chief’s Wife asked with a smile.
Feeling like a cuckoo in the nest, Wen Yan pondered his reply. Liang Shijing, walking a half-step ahead with the host Chief, glanced back. Taking it as a cue, Wen Yan lied smoothly. “Staying home suits me just fine.”
“Still that quiet soul.” The Alpha Chief glanced back with a chuckle. “We’re the old fogeys who still bicker. Last month, he even stormed out.”
Security swung open the meeting room doors, and the group filed in. Delicate teas and pastries adorned the low tables. Liang Shijing forwent the pomp of the Alliance’s preeminent Chief, lounging relaxed in a single armchair.
The Alpha Chief deftly steered the conversation—not obsequious, yet ever attentive.
“Care for a stroll?” the Chief’s Wife proposed with a smile. “They’ll light up cigars soon, and I recall you detest the smoke.”
Wen Yan hesitated to stray without leave, flicking a discreet glance at Liang Shijing.
“Go on. I’ll wait.” Liang Shijing sipped his coffee.
Wen Yan rose with the Chief’s Wife. En route out, they passed a secretary cradling a tablet-sized humidor, its transparent lid revealing stout brown cigars nestled within.
The door clicked shut. The Alpha Chief murmured conspiratorially, “These are from my private stock. Sure you won’t indulge?”
Liang Shijing waved him off.
“Six years back, you quit when Little Yan was expecting. Little You’s five now—you could use a pick-me-up. Eases the tension on those long nights.” The Alpha Chief reminisced with a grin. “Am I out of line suggesting it?”
“He’s bolted once already.” Liang Shijing lifted his eyelids lazily.
It dawned on him, and the Alpha Chief broke into a sudden smile. “Then I’ll drop it.”
“Marriage really does change things,” the Chief’s Wife said slowly as he paced back and forth. “Did you two hash everything out at home with Chief Liang?”
Wen Yan could only smile to cover his lie. It would be so awkward if the man himself found out about the impersonation.
“Oh dear, did you have a fight with Chief Liang?” The Chief’s Wife was delightfully nosy. “You’ve just been smiling without saying a word since we started talking. We used to be so close, and now… I don’t know if you’ve come to dislike me or what. It’s a little heartbreaking, really.”
“No, that’s not it.” Wen Yan paused. “I haven’t been going out much lately. It’s been so long since we last met—I wasn’t sure if you’d even remember me.”
“You’re so heartless. The snacks I prepared today were all your favorites, and you haven’t touched a single one.”
“I’ll make sure to try them when I get back.”
The two chatted idly along the flower path, pulling at family matters as intimately as old friends who’d known each other for years. That was when Wen Yan learned that the couple had an Omega daughter, quite a bit older than Liang Wangyou and currently in middle school. The Chief’s Wife complained at length about how rebellious and headstrong she was.
Before they knew it, evening had arrived, and it was time for dinner. The four of them met again.
Wen Yan was absolutely certain this was Liang Shijing’s private trip—no business was discussed at the table. After the meal, he followed Liang Shijing into the car, expecting to return to their lodging for rest. Instead, Liang Shijing took him to a famously scenic spot. If he remembered correctly, just the day before, Liang Shijing had been pulling an all-nighter at the Chief’s Mansion. And now here he was, leisurely sightseeing.
Under the night sky, round lakes of all sizes dotted the landscape like empty squares on a chessboard—emerald green, ink black, and vibrant jade. The air was filled with the fresh, tangy scent of lemon trees.
Wen Yan leaned on the weathered railing, gazing out at the horizon where water met sky.
The view wasn’t anything extraordinary, but a strange sense of familiarity flickered through his mind. The longer he looked, the more it overlapped inexplicably with scattered fragments deep in his memory.
Wen Yan frowned.
Liang Shijing came to stand beside him, pausing to take in the same vista.
The atmosphere felt utterly bizarre right now… Wen Yan silently shifted away bit by bit. He and Liang Shijing weren’t the type to stand shoulder to shoulder admiring scenery. Liang Shijing must really like this place. But the painkillers had worn off, and his gland felt like it was being pricked from every direction by thousands of densely packed silver needles.
“I’d like to rest in the car for a bit,” Wen Yan said softly. “Is that okay?”
“Why?” Liang Shijing gazed calmly at the distant lake.
“My head hurts a little.” Wen Yan lied.
“That’s normal. It might get worse over time,” Liang Shijing replied flatly.
Wen Yan suddenly understood—the Neck Ring had this side effect. He gripped the eroded railing tightly, enduring the pain. The beautiful night and scenery might as well have been illusions. For a few seconds, his vision blurred completely, unable to make out anything, before gradually clearing amid the haze of darkness. He didn’t speak. Neither did Liang Shijing.
The wind grew cold at last, and Liang Shijing asked, “Do you remember anything?”
The odd question buzzed in Wen Yan’s ears like boiling water. He turned woodenly, a glint of clear, limpid light shimmering deep in his eyes. “Should we head back?”
“Why won’t you answer the question?” Liang Shijing said.
“What question?” Wen Yan asked blankly.
“Let’s go back.” Liang Shijing closed his eyes.
Revisiting old haunts was never quite the same…
On the way back, Wen Yan dozed off briefly in the car. When he woke, he felt a bit better, and they’d already arrived at their lodging—a exclusive residence built specifically for chiefs from various countries. The ground floor housed security personnel, while the second floor was for him and Liang Shijing to rest.
Wen Yan stared blankly at the large bed and at Liang Shijing, who stood beside it loosening his tie. He’d never imagined that an overseas visit would mean sharing a room with Liang Shijing…
What was he supposed to do tonight? What about the next seven days?
