Wen Yan had run away.
He simply couldn’t answer that question.
Naturally, he slotted that crystal-clear memory into the Dependency Period. The Dependency Period was something that couldn’t be recalled—a frenzied, animalistic act, a quagmire of pure desire. Just thinking about it made his body tremble uncontrollably.
Fortunately, Liang Shijing wasn’t home for the next three days. Wen Yan secretly used this old phone to call Li Li, giving a heavily edited rundown of recent events. By the end, even he felt dazed—clearly, nothing much had happened, yet so much time had slipped by. Li Li asked if Liang Shijing had made things difficult for him and whether he needed any help.
Providing pheromones didn’t count as making things difficult. It was a debt that had to be repaid.
They didn’t talk long before hanging up. Wen Yan headed down to the first floor.
The first floor housed the bodyguards, the medical team, and the servants. Security here was just as tight as upstairs.
“Mr. Wen.” A bodyguard nodded in greeting.
“Is Doctor Hu here?” He tiptoed, peering toward the medical laboratory behind the one-way glass.
“Please wait a moment.” The bodyguard pressed his earpiece to notify someone. Moments later, a large door on the left side of the corridor swung open. Hu Li strode out full of vigor in his white coat. “Little Yan, I’ve been waiting for you forever!”
“Uh… is something wrong?” Wen Yan didn’t quite follow.
“That’s heartbreaking. We used to be such good friends.” Hu Li pretended to wipe away sad tears.
“We still are friends now.” Wen Yan smiled.
The bodyguard stepped aside to let them pass, and the two headed toward the laboratory. Behind the spotless glass, medical personnel bustled about in protective suits, conducting experiments or jotting down data. Wen Yan peered inside. “Why is there an operating room in there?”
“You remember this?” Hu Li asked in surprise.
“Well…” Wen Yan pointed to the plaque on the wall. “Isn’t it written right there?” Before Hu Li could respond, another fragmentary memory flashed through his mind.
Chilly air, his hand gripped by an Alpha, the glaring shadowless lamp, an infant wrapped in its umbilical cord…
“Headache?” Hu Li looked at him with concern.
“Yeah, they’ve been coming a lot lately.” Wen Yan massaged his temples. “Why is that?”
“Perfectly normal!” Hu Li beamed—it seemed Wen Yan’s memories were on the verge of returning. Excitedly, he explained, “It’s from all those drugs you took before. Things will slowly get better from here!”
Wen Yan blinked in confusion. He’d stumbled onto the truth again by accident. So Liang Shijing really had drugged him into oblivion many times, letting him give birth to Liang Wangyou without realizing it. That was why, during that overseas visit, he’d insisted it was all normal…
So that’s how it was…
Hu Li grew even more thrilled seeing him lost in thought for so long. He knew full well that the longer Wen Yan lingered in these familiar surroundings, the faster his memories would return. Quietly, he waved over his colleagues and had them all clear out of the laboratory.
By the time Wen Yan snapped back to reality, the entire medical district stood empty.
A faint scent of disinfectant hung in the air. Clear sunlight streamed through the grid windows, casting diamond-shaped patches on the floor. He reached out, his fingertips tracing slowly over the cold, hard metal surface of the lab bench. The smooth sensation merged seamlessly with the memories flickering at his nerve endings.
The door creaked open. Someone had arrived.
He turned, and time seemed to flow…
“Why are you here again?” Liang Shijing leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his expression indifferent.
“You’re back.” A gentle voice sounded from behind him.
Wen Yan turned once more, watching in disbelief as “himself” walked right past—straight to Liang Shijing. And impossibly, “his” belly was slightly rounded?
“Snacking again?” Liang Shijing kissed the space between “his” brows.
“So you came back early for a surprise raid?”
A sharp bird chirp shattered the vision abruptly. His head throbbed as if it might split open… When he blinked his eyes open again, Wen Yan couldn’t recall a thing about what he’d just seen. But somehow, he kept walking forward until he reached a tall metal cabinet. Without a second thought, he pressed down on the door panel. It sprang open with a snap, revealing a cabinet stuffed full of potato chips!
Was this that Omega’s?
Right now, the pain in his brain rivaled the ache in his gland. Something was forcing its way in, probing and burrowing deeper. Wen Yan staggered to a particular drawer and yanked it open. The sight before him overlapped once more with a long-buried memory. There were too many baffling details—how did he know painkillers were stashed here? Who was that Omega?
But the most pressing issue right now wasn’t that… It was that only two painkillers remained in his candy box… And now, here was this cabinet overflowing with them…
Three minutes later.
“How are you feeling?” Hu Li hurried over, beaming.
“Do the side effects include hallucinations too?” Wen Yan asked nervously, hands jammed deep in his jacket pockets.
“Did you remember something?”
Wen Yan paused for a beat. “Sort of, but not really. Just now, so many things felt familiar, but I couldn’t pin them down.”
“Oh, everyone goes through stuff like that.” Hu Li could only reply vaguely.
The bodyguards kept glancing their way. It was Wen Yan’s first time pilfering anything, and his nerves were shot. He wanted to bolt but had too many questions, so after two steps, he doubled back. “Doctor Hu, what exactly did my pheromones do to Liang Shijing? What illness did they cause?”
“The Chief’s health is top-secret. Leaking it would land us in prison.” Hu Li scratched at his thinning hair. “You could always ask him yourself. He might even tell you.”
Yeah, right—like that wouldn’t earn him a tongue-lashing.
After thanking Hu Li, Wen Yan beat a hasty retreat.
The next morning, after breakfast with Liang Wangyou, bodyguards escorted him to the Chief’s Mansion. The Chief’s Suite was deserted when he arrived.
Without Liang Shijing there, Wen Yan had no clue where to sit. He stood awkwardly on the carpet for a moment, wondering if Liang Shijing was resting in the bedroom. That thought made him freeze in place even more.
Sure enough, the door to the right soon opened. Liang Shijing emerged shirtless, shot him a glance, and asked coolly, “Self-imposed penalty stand?”
…Wen Yan whipped his face away. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
“What, you shower with clothes on?” Liang Shijing flung the door wide. “Get in here.”
How could an Alpha’s sense of propriety be so lax? With no other choice, Wen Yan clicked open the switch on his neck ring and shuffled inside at a snail’s pace. The room carried a faint trace of pheromones mingled with body wash. His matching suit hung on the coat rack, a damp white towel draped over the edge of the bed. And improbably, right between the two pillows sat a massive, elongated plush worm hugging pillow…
Wen Yan could hardly imagine the perpetually expressionless Liang Shijing sleeping while clutching this thing. Inexplicably, his thoughts drifted to that sketch—perhaps it was something that omega had left behind?
“What time did you crash last night?” Liang Shijing, that abs-obsessed show-off, strode out of the bathroom bare-chested once more.
“Forgot.” Wen Yan’s gaze was practically fused to the carpet.
“If you’re tired, crash on the bed. I’ve got a meeting coming up.”
Between the choices of sleeping in a bed another omega had used or tagging along in misery with Liang Shijing, Wen Yan didn’t hesitate. “I’ll wait for you outside.”
“Whatever.”
Liang Shijing grabbed his suit from the coat rack and casually untied the sash of his bathrobe. Wen Yan stared in shock. Liang Shijing was wearing underwear, but his body—fresh from the shower—glowed with a faint flush, every muscle taut and defined.
Alphas are such exhibitionists, he thought to himself.
The soft rustle of fabric filled his ears. Even with his eyes squeezed shut, Wen Yan could picture Liang Shijing’s every move: buttons fastening from the bottom up, long legs sliding into trousers, wrist lifting to inspect the cuffs.
“Open your eyes,” Liang Shijing commanded.
Wen Yan’s lashes fluttered as he obeyed. Liang Shijing had transformed back into the aloof Chief Executive Officer—expressionless, icily handsome, and utterly commanding.
“Dummy.”
Why’s he insulting me again?
Wen Yan pressed his lips together and stayed silent, though a spark of irritation flickered inside him. Good-looking alphas always had that one infuriating trait: their words cut like knives.
Liang Shijing stepped closer, raised a hand, and his warm fingertips ghosted across Wen Yan’s face. Wen Yan felt a sudden stickiness between his brows. Glancing down, he saw Liang Shijing pinching a thin red heart-shaped sticker.
No wonder Liang Wangyou had patted his face when they’d parted. No wonder those bodyguards had stared at him… Turns out Liang Wangyou had slyly stuck this on him.
“A dumb pig sired a silly one,” Liang Shijing remarked.
“You!” Wen Yan shot him a small glare before retreating like a turtle into its shell. “I’m not dumb, and neither is he.”
“You can actually tell who I’m talking about. Color me surprised.”
Wen Yan clamped his mouth shut—the more he engaged, the more it felt like walking into a trap. He trailed silently after Liang Shijing toward the conference room. Even before they reached it, a cacophony of raised voices in varying pitches leaked through the half-open door.
A low table in the adjoining alcove held delicate bone china cups and saucers, along with pastries and fresh fruit.
The alpha paused to pour a cup of tea. He tested its temperature against the cup’s rim before thrusting it into the omega’s hands. “Sit here and wait.”
The perfectly tempered tea rippled gently in the cup. Before Wen Yan could process it, Liang Shijing had pressed him into an embroidered armchair. The instant Liang Shijing pushed open the conference room door, the arguing cut off abruptly, replaced by the scrape of chairs being pulled back and a chorus of “Chief” in assorted tones.
Wen Yan craned his neck for a peek.
Through the narrow gap, he glimpsed the attendees from various departments standing ramrod straight beside the table. Many were past fifty—from the News Department, Finance Department, Judiciary Department, and more. These were the nation’s top power players in their fields.
No doubt about it—this was one hell of an important meeting.
“Sit,” Liang Shijing said flatly, claiming the head chair and picking up his documents.
Everyone took their seats.
From his diagonal vantage point, Wen Yan spotted a male alpha with graying hair. The man had clearly spotted him too.
Their eyes met for half a second, and shock bloomed across both their faces in perfect sync.
