“Why aren’t you asleep yet? What are you waiting for?” Liang Shijing tossed his tie onto the bedsheet and tilted his head back to unbutton his shirt…
Wen Yan quickly covered his eyes.
“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.” Liang Shijing snorted coldly.
He had seen it before, it was true—but that had been a long time ago, and it was something he really shouldn’t be looking at…
Wen Yan spun around in a hurry, coming face-to-face with the glass cabinet in the cloakroom. Their clothes hung inside, shrouded in dust covers, while two neatly stacked piles of pajamas sat side by side on the cushioned stool beside the vanity…
“I’ll sleep on the sofa in the living room,” he said softly.
“Do whatever you want.”
The room was spacious enough to park a race car, yet Liang Shijing crossed it half-naked from the waist up. Wen Yan flattened himself against the wall to get out of the way. Liang Shijing shot him a glance but couldn’t be bothered with him as he sauntered into the cloakroom. In the play of light and shadow, the lean muscles of his back rippled with restrained power and resilience even at rest—lines so sharply defined they spoke of utter self-discipline.
Wen Yan stood there dazed for a few seconds before scurrying back to the living room.
After his bath, it was already ten at night. He swallowed some painkillers and lay down on the sofa, lost in thought.
He wondered if Liang Wangyou was bored all alone at home, whether the boy had gone to bed yet, and if he’d throw a tantrum without Liang Shijing there.
The night wore on. When the hour, minute, and second hands of the wall clock merged into a single thick black line, the bedroom door creaked open silently. In the dimness, the Alpha’s tall, shadowy silhouette drew steadily closer.
Wen Yan lay sprawled on his stomach in sleep, one arm dangling to the carpet, the other tucked under his cheek. The blanket lay in a tangled heap over him, his pale, slender legs gleaming with a soft luster in the moonlight.
Liang Shijing tickled the sole of his foot.
Genetics were such a dominant force. Dead to the world even in a thunderstorm, the Omega slept like this—and so did the son he’d borne…
Liang Shijing scooped him up and carried him back to the bedroom. No sooner had they settled onto the king-sized bed than the Omega rolled over contentedly and let out a couple of soft hums. In the glow of the reading lamp, his sleeping face was tranquil, his body perfectly proportioned save for that tantalizing curve below the waist… After a moment, Liang Shijing undid the buttons of his pajamas and slid off his sleep pants.
His skin was smooth and supple as warm jade… The Alpha injected a dose of biomimetic agent into the gland, then began inspecting the Omega’s body.
His eyes roved upward over the legs, waist and abdomen, chest—confirming no marks or bruises—before taking the Omega’s soft hand and checking between each finger. He skipped only the neck encircled by the neck ring…
Once the pajamas were buttoned back up, the room plunged into darkness.
The Alpha stretched out on his side of the bed. Beep-beep—the wristband’s chime sounded, muffled beneath the covers.
Moments later, a faint, crisp chill began to waft through the air. The Omega slumbered on, the pheromones so subtle they were barely there—but it was that very subtlety that drew him in without conscious thought.
In half an hour, he had burrowed into the Alpha’s arms.
Wen Yan slept long and deeply, only to be roused by a knock at the door. It was Liang Shijing’s Chief Secretary-General, Cheng Zhu, inquiring from the hall outside. “The Chief is still tied up in meetings and says there’s no need to wait for him. Mr. Wen, would you like lunch now?”
Noon already. Wen Yan rubbed his eyes and sat up from the sofa. “Yes, thank you.”
After eating, he picked a random book from the study to read. It was dull, but he didn’t dare roam the suite. Those five years of isolation had taught him well how to pass the time. He read straight through until evening, when Liang Shijing finally returned.
Wen Yan flicked on the one-way pheromone switch at once. Liang Shijing, phone to his ear, made a beeline for him. Liang Wangyou’s voice blared from the speaker.
“Why isn’t anyone home? Why’d you take Wen Yan away?!” After a full day, little Liang Wangyou had trudged back to Oak Bay with his backpack, only to find himself eating alone again. He’d gotten used to it before, but ever since Wen Yan moved in, even Liang Shijing came home for lunch. The boy was furious and had called his father immediately, demanding answers in a burst of childish outrage.
“Wen Yan doesn’t belong to you,” Liang Shijing said. He set the phone on the coffee table. The sofa was enormous, yet he plopped down right beside Wen Yan and added coldly.
“He belongs to me.”
Wen Yan held his book open with both hands, listening closely.
“You’re so annoying! When’s Wen Yan coming back?” Liang Wangyou demanded fiercely.
“None of your business.”
“Did you fire him? Why hasn’t he shown up in the news!”
“Why haven’t you shown up in the news?”
“Because I’m your son.” Liang Wangyou grumbled. “Wen Yan isn’t, though.”
“Dumb as a pig,” Liang Shijing remarked.
“When are you coming home? I’m kinda bored…” Liang Wangyou’s voice drooped.
“If you’re bored, go to bed early.”
Wen Yan’s face was a study in awkward sympathy… He furrowed his brow ever so slightly.
“Four more days.” Liang Shijing glanced at him and corrected himself swiftly.
Rustling sounds came from Liang Wangyou’s end—he must have flopped onto his bed. Wen Yan was amazed at how obediently the boy listened to his father.
“That’s forever,” Liang Wangyou whined in his babyish tone. “Dad, can Wen Yan come back first? You’re a grown-up; you don’t need looking after.”
“No. I do need it,” Liang Shijing replied deadpan.
“Fine. Tomorrow I wanna go to the aquarium. Okay?”
Children of their family enjoyed boundless privileges and prestige, but at the cost of freedom. Public outings weren’t spontaneous; they demanded meticulous planning. A trip to the aquarium meant security sweeps at least three days ahead—vetting hazards, staff credentials—and scheduling around operating hours to clear the place without disruption.
“Go to sleep first,” Liang Shijing said. “We’ll discuss it when we get back.”
Liang Wangyou huffed twice. “Then give me Wen Yan’s phone number.”
“He doesn’t have one.”
Wen Yan itched to chime in that he’d buy one right away, but he held his tongue. Liang Shijing hiked up his sleeve a touch and shoved the phone toward him. “He’s right here. Say hi.”
“Yay! Wen Yan, can you hear me?” Liang Wangyou’s voice shot up in excitement.
“I can hear you,” Wen Yan said, leaning close to the speaker. “I’ve been here the whole time.”
“Then why didn’t you talk? You really don’t have a phone? When you get back, I’ll buy you one. What kind do you like? You can text me then—voice messages, not words, ’cause I don’t know all the characters yet.” The boy rattled on happily, brimming with anticipation.
“I’ll go buy one first thing tomorrow,” Wen Yan said with a soft smile.
Liang Shijing snatched the phone back before the boy could respond, instructing him to hit the hay early. This time, Liang Wangyou was a model of compliance, bidding them both a sweet goodnight.
With the thought of going out to buy a phone tomorrow tucked away in his mind, Wen Yan washed up and quickly fell asleep—or so he tried. But no matter how he tossed and turned on the sofa, sleep eluded him. It was nearly dawn when he suddenly heard the bedroom door creak open softly.
“Not asleep yet?” Liang Shijing’s voice drifted softly beside his ear, startling Wen Yan into a shiver.
“Why are you up…?”
“Getting water.”
“Oh.” Wen Yan lay back down.
That sleep was far from refreshing. Last night he’d woken up feeling invigorated, but today his whole body ached. Still, he washed up simply and headed out to buy a phone, only to have the bodyguards inform him that Chief Liang had instructed them that morning: no leaving the building.
Liang Shijing was truly infuriating!
Dejected, Wen Yan turned back and waited—and waited, and waited—until the sun dipped below the horizon and Liang Shijing finally returned. Trailing behind him, Wen Yan earnestly made his request. “I’d like to go out for a bit.”
“For what?” Liang Shijing asked, though he knew full well.
“To buy a phone.” Wen Yan’s voice lacked conviction. He wasn’t at all sure if Liang Shijing would allow him to stay in touch with Liang Wangyou. Probably not, right? Why else keep him cooped up?
“You got money for that?” Liang Shijing asked lazily, arms crossed.
“Uh, yeah?” Wen Yan replied tentatively.
“Don’t you know you should teach Liang Wangyou good habits, like reasonable spending? He’s in class all day—what calls does he need? You hoping he’ll be waiting for your voice messages during lessons?”
The barrage of questions was enough to fluster Wen Yan. He hadn’t considered any of those consequences and hung his head in shame. “Then… I guess I won’t buy one. But I promised him—could you pass that along for me?”
He looked up to find a black phone thrust right in front of his face.
“Use mine,” Liang Shijing said flatly.
That night, Wen Yan chatted with Liang Wangyou for a long time. They agreed to call every day from then on. So every day, the moment Wen Yan opened his eyes, he’d start anticipating when Liang Shijing would return. As soon as Liang Shijing walked in, he’d set his book aside and approach. “You’re back.”
The slightly upbeat tone made it sound like he’d been waiting all along.
Liang Shijing rarely responded to that. Wen Yan would trail after him until the wall clock struck ten—Liang Wangyou’s bedtime. Then, with an unwitting plea in his soft voice, Wen Yan would ask, “No call with Little You today?”
“Forgot.” Liang Shijing pulled out his phone.
Countless people schemed endlessly to peek into the private communications of the Chief of the First Major Power, prying for secrets. But Wen Yan ignored all the files and contacts; he just wanted to make a call.
Once connected, Liang Wangyou’s voice came through obediently. “Wen Yan, I’ve been waiting for you forever!”
“What did you do today?” Wen Yan’s eyes crinkled with a smile. “Did you eat properly? What activities did you join?”
“I want to go to the aquarium. When are you two coming back?”
Brilliant lights streamed quietly down from the living room ceiling as they spoke in hushed but lively tones. They discussed when the Bluebird might fully recover, when the baby bird would learn to flap its wings and fly, and when they could release them back into the wild.
Liang Shijing occasionally tossed in a comment that drew a complaint from Liang Wangyou, but the moment Wen Yan glanced at him, he fell silent…
