Chapter 46

The next day, with the sky finally clear, was the day they were scheduled to return to the Capital.

Wen Yan hadn’t slept a wink all night. At the first light of dawn, he opened his eyes. Liang Wangyou lay obediently with his face pillowed between two cushions, while Liang Shijing had half his face buried beneath the covers, his long straight lashes resting against his eyelids. He looked to be sleeping deeply.

Wen Yan watched them quietly for a moment before slipping back to his own room, where he discovered that the mattress had already been replaced.

Whatever. He wasn’t in the mood to dwell on it, nor did he care to speculate further on the Alpha’s motives.

After washing up, he strolled unhurriedly to the seaside in his pajamas. Only Liang Shijing and Liang Wangyou would be heading back to the Capital later; he would remain on this Island indefinitely, so there was no need for him to pack.

Gradually, the entire Island stirred to life.

An orange sun crested the horizon, seagulls wheeled over the shimmering waves, and a gentle sea breeze caressed his face. The air might have carried the tang of salt now, but Wen Yan felt none of it.

He gazed at the view from downstairs while the Alpha watched him from above.

A short while later, Liang Wangyou woke up and came bounding out, chattering away as he approached. Putting on his most endearing face, he declared that he’d slept wonderfully and asked if they could share a bed again sometime. Wen Yan ruffled his hair and smiled, but gave no promise.

After breakfast, servants hurried in and out of the rooms, packing luggage. Liang Shijing stood on the balcony, making work calls, while Wen Yan cradled Liang Wangyou on the sofa for a rest. It was then that Little You finally noticed something amiss.

“Wen Yan, why aren’t they packing your clothes?”

“Because I’m staying here from now on,” Wen Yan explained.

“Aren’t you coming home with us? Why stay here all by yourself?”

“Because it’s so beautiful here.”

Little You wasn’t convinced. “Then I’ll stay too. We’ll go back together when school starts. I want to be with you.”

Liang Shijing entered through the open door, and Little You rushed over to tell him. Naturally, Liang Shijing refused to let him stay behind. Little You erupted in a tantrum, demanding answers relentlessly. His little face flushed red, and tears soon followed. Wen Yan fought the urge to scoop him up, but Little You mistook him for one of the bodyguards at first and shoved hard. Realizing who it was, he flung himself sobbing into Wen Yan’s arms.

“I don’t want you here alone! Why won’t Dad let you come home?” Little You wailed between gasps. “I want to stay too! I’m not leaving! I’m not!”

“Don’t pull me! Ah!!!!!!! Don’t pull me!”

This time, it was the real bodyguards. They pried the little Alpha and Omega apart by force. The previous time, Little You had kicked his chubby little legs in a frenzy only because Wen Yan was changing his clothes. In less than two days, the scene had transformed entirely. Now Little You thrashed and screamed in a bodyguard’s arms, his voice hoarse as they carried him onto the helicopter. He clawed at the window, pounding furiously, but Wen Yan couldn’t hear a thing.

Blazing sunlight seared Wen Yan’s face. It was too bright—his eyes stung, and Little You’s figure blurred.

Liang Shijing emerged from the Vacation House and came to his side. Wen Yan turned his face away stubbornly, but Liang Shijing gripped his chin and forced it back. Perhaps from the wind, Wen Yan broke into a fit of violent coughing.

“Never mind,” Liang Shijing said abruptly.

This mercurial Alpha had changed his mind yet again, though Wen Yan felt not a shred of gratitude. When Liang Shijing had ordered him to stay on the Island, he’d had no choice, no matter how heartbroken Little You’s cries. Now, with permission to leave, he had no choice but to board the helicopter still in his pajamas.

Once airborne, Little You continued sobbing in hiccupping gasps, clutching fistfuls of Wen Yan’s clothes and refusing to let go—even onto the private jet. Wen Yan’s eyes were red-rimmed as he coaxed him for what felt like forever. Little You kept fearing he wouldn’t come along. Midway through his tears, the boy suddenly announced he needed the bathroom. Before Wen Yan could carry him there, he wet himself right in the corridor.

Warm urine trickled down Little You’s legs, splattering onto the plush carpet at the bathroom door. Yet he kept crying, arms locked around Wen Yan’s neck in a desperate grip. Wen Yan gritted his teeth, his body trembling.

“It’s okay. I’m right here…”

“Look at me. I haven’t gone anywhere…”

“Little You… look at me.”

His voice cracked from tremor to choke, until at last he clutched Little You and they wept together.

If his hatred for the Alpha could be measured on a scale, it peaked in that instant.

They lingered in the bathroom for ages. Wen Yan forced himself to calm, silently washing Little You’s body, changing his clothes, then returning to their seats in silence. By the time they reached Oak Bay, Little You had finally fallen asleep. Wen Yan retreated to his room.

The incident seemed resolved…

Just a minor, forgettable blip. Nothing serious…

The Omega harbored no anger, the Alpha no guilt. Days rolled on as before…

Yet from that day, everything shifted in subtle ways. Wen Yan spoke only to Little You, the two of them inseparable around the clock. Whatever Liang Shijing said to him fell on deaf ears. Little You gradually forgot the Island ordeal and lost his hypersensitivity, but he began ignoring his father too. The father and son had a massive blowout—out of Wen Yan’s sight, though he overheard it by chance.

“Don’t come back! This family doesn’t want you!”

“I hate you too!”

In the end, Little You secured permission for an outing. Bodyguards trailed them, but Wen Yan threw caution to the wind, leading Little You everywhere. They devoured ice cream in a teeming mall, screamed through thrill rides at the amusement park, and scarfed down dubious street eats under the midnight lights. Wen Yan introduced him to Li Li and Lin Yichu, showed him the school and library of his childhood…

He shared people and places with the boy, etching joyful moments into memory.

Half a month flew by. Summer waned, the air turning crisp.

The Alpha at last acknowledged his Island blunder and offered the Omega a gift by way of apology. Wen Yan had no interest in the contents of the elegant velvet box. He hurled it at Liang Shijing’s feet.

The next morning, with Little You still asleep, Wen Yan slipped out alone to drive. He visited the home that truly felt like his own. Afterward, he wandered the streets aimlessly. The Capital had transformed beyond recognition—skyscrapers sprouting every three days, bridges every five. Amid the throng, winds howled through a forest of unfamiliar windows. Each one framed a tiny home, each home someone waiting.

“Hello,” Wen Yan said as he entered the cake shop, pointing at the bright glass display case. “I’ll take two to go.”

The enthusiastic server offered him a sample of the fresh-baked novelty. As the small morsel melted in his mouth, she asked if it was too sweet. Wen Yan paused, then smiled. “Just right.”

His sense of taste had vanished too…

By the time he drove home, dusk had settled in. Beneath the Oak Corridor stood an alpha pacing restlessly back and forth. He had clearly been waiting a long time—his shirt was rumpled, one hand tucked in his pocket, the agate cufflinks glowing with a warm luster in the fading sunlight.

Wen Yan had no intention of stopping, but Liang Shijing spotted him and stepped into the middle of the road. The bodyguards raced toward the perceived danger, and only in the final instant did Wen Yan slam on the brakes. The tires screeched, kicking up a stinging trail of blue smoke.

The alpha, who had stood unmoved until then, finally stirred. He yanked open the passenger door and slid inside, asking casually, “What do you feel like eating tonight?” His calm, easy tone seemed to insist there was no bad blood between them—like a husband getting off work early to wait eagerly at the door for his beloved’s return.

But that wasn’t the reality at all.

Wen Yan unbuckled his seatbelt, stepped out of the car, and walked away.

He didn’t smile until Liang Wangyou flung himself into his arms. Liang Shijing trailed behind, carrying the two boxes of cake.

“It’s not for you!” Liang Wangyou snatched one away. He claimed the tangy-sweet bayberry cake for himself and handed the remaining sweet fig cake to a servant to save for tomorrow. Then he tugged Wen Yan upstairs to play games. That evening, the two lay together in bed, Wen Yan cradling the boy’s soft back while Liang Wangyou pillowed his head on Wen Yan’s arm.

“Is Baby happy today?” Wen Yan asked softly.

“So happy,” Liang Wangyou replied. “If only I didn’t have to go to school—we could play together every single day. Wen Yan, my racing team’s got a match next week. Let’s fly there together! I can even drive you. I’ve got a kids’ race car license, you know.”

Wen Yan tweaked his cheek. “Driving means being safe. Only on professional tracks, okay?”

“When I’m sixteen, I can drive you to other cities for trips. If you need to go somewhere, I can take you.” Liang Wangyou giggled. “But that’s years away. You have to wait for me, Wen Yan.”

The little alpha lay warm and cozy in his arms, chattering on about all the things they would do in the future. The omega listened quietly, then paused to consider. “Don’t be so harsh on your father from now on. He loves you very much—he just doesn’t know how to show it…”

“Hmph,” Liang Wangyou huffed. “He’s always the one making you mad.”

“I’ve gotten mad at him too.” Wen Yan winked mischievously. “We’re even now.”

“Got it!”

From then on, Wen Yan went out for strolls every day—sometimes with Liang Wangyou, sometimes alone. Liang Shijing never loitered under the Oak Corridor again like an unwelcome shadow. Wen Yan’s movements grew freer, and bit by bit, his cheerfulness returned.

Until that fine, sunny morning when he woke precisely at eight. Liang Shijing had already left early for the Chief’s Mansion, so Wen Yan slipped brazenly into his bedroom and plucked the photo album chronicling Liang Wangyou’s growth from the adjoining study. Dressed casually, he headed downstairs.

“Out for fun so early, Mr. Wen?” On the lawn, Consul Ji was directing the servants to gather fallen branches. He straightened with a smile and waved.

“Leaves dropping already?” Wen Yan strolled over, car keys in hand.

“Just these few.” Consul Ji sighed. “Feels like summer barely started before autumn arrived. Soon the oak leaves will turn, bringing your favorite season.”

“A single leaf heralds autumn,” Wen Yan said, tilting his head to gaze up at the oak tree overhead. “Especially when the wind gusts through—the rustling is lovely. Though I suppose it means you all have to sweep every day.”

“Not so bad,” Consul Ji chuckled. “The Chief said a few years back to let them fall. Wait till they’re half-rotted, then sweep. Stepping on them crunches like potato chips.”

“Sounds good.” Wen Yan nodded. “I’m off. Goodbye, Consul Ji.”

The black sedan glided silently out of Oak Bay’s ornate gates, through the teeming streets, until it reached a deserted avenue. Wen Yan chucked his phone into a trash bin from the window and barreled north without pause. He’d checked the car thoroughly for trackers before leaving, found two with his device, and tossed them as well.

The capital faded into the distance as he merged onto the ring road, its steel giants looming silently on the horizon. After passing the highway toll gate, Wen Yan wiped the corner of his eye. Liang Wangyou would be awake by now—he’d realize Wen Yan was gone.

Three hours later, he reached the first supply point: an abandoned factory marked on maps as once heavily contaminated. It hadn’t been, of course—that was the work of the Chief at the time, Wen Zecheng. There, Wen Yan ditched his pricey custom ride for a nondescript everyday car and pressed on.

Hunger, fatigue, or a throbbing gland—he popped painkillers and chased them with ice water to stave off sleep.

Ten hours in, night had fallen. He passed the Alliance’s second-largest city, pausing on a windy overpass to gaze at its glittering lights. Liang Shijing would know by now, but he wouldn’t find him. Wen Yan had monitored the radio news—no warrants, no missing persons reports.

He ate a sandwich, donned a mask, and drove on.

Deep into the night, he motored alone down the empty mountain highway—profoundly lonely, yet deeply content. One more toll gate, and true safety awaited: a web of mountain byways that could lead abroad or loop back to the capital. But then a black convoy overtook him. Dozens of helicopters converged from every direction, rotors blurring in eerie silence. The left rearview mirror flashed twice.

Wen Yan’s heart remained still. He knew Liang Shijing had arrived.

The toll gate ahead bristled with the Guard Team. The black convoy drew parallel, its rear window rolling down to reveal Liang Shijing’s impassive face. Wen Yan lowered his own window, meeting his gaze amid the roaring wind. The convoy surged ahead in a synchronized drift, sealing off the gate.

To get through, he’d have to plow into the cars, then the crowd. Calmly, Wen Yan pulled over and stepped out.

Liang Shijing exited his vehicle too, approaching with an impassive expression. “So late, and you’re not heading home?”

This place was over eight hundred kilometers from the Capital, deep into autumn territory. Standing in the open expanse, the wind felt particularly biting. Wen Yan’s nose itched, and he let out a sneeze. Liang Shijing shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over Wen Yan’s shoulders, gripping his arm firmly as he guided him into the car.

Wen Yan understood that Liang Shijing’s casual tone masked real anger—why else would he have mobilized such an extensive search network? He also recognized Liang Shijing’s willingness to downplay the issue, turning major problems into minor ones and minor ones into nothing at all.

The alpha cranked up the car’s heater. Warm air billowed from the vents, caressing their faces with comforting heat.

Wen Yan handed the jacket back to him and asked evenly, “Is there something you need?”

Liang Shijing fell silent for a dozen seconds before replying, “Liang Wangyou is still waiting for you at home.”

“I know,” the omega responded calmly.

“Then let’s head back,” the alpha said, seizing the opening.

The driver started the engine without hesitation, but Wen Yan spoke up steadily to halt him. The driver glanced back at Liang Shijing for instructions, receiving only the slightest nod in return. He stepped out, leaving the two of them alone in the vehicle.

The interior was utterly still. Wen Yan’s face betrayed little emotion as he kept his eyes lowered and posed his first question. “Why come looking for me again?”

“If you want to go somewhere, just tell me,” Liang Shijing replied flatly. “You don’t need to drive off by yourself.”

“No one’s around now.” Wen Yan raised his gaze, locking eyes with him. “No need to keep up the facade.”

The fragile peace the alpha had strained to maintain crumbled the moment the omega voiced it. There was no pretending anymore.

Liang Shijing’s brow furrowed—deeply, profoundly.

“Liang Shijing, I don’t want to see you. And I don’t want to live with you,” Wen Yan said quietly.

The words had barely landed when Liang Shijing seized his arm. Wen Yan didn’t pull away. They were close now—so close that each could see his own reflection in the other’s eyes—yet the alpha’s grip gradually slackened…

“What do you want me to do?” he asked coldly.

Wen Yan took in the exhaustion etched deeply into his face, the dark shadows under his eyes, the chest heaving with restrained breaths.

“Come here,” Wen Yan murmured softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Liang Shijing leaned in closer. Wen Yan pressed his lips to the alpha’s.

It was a fleeting touch, then separation.

Seizing the alpha’s momentary daze, the omega kissed him once more. This time, the tip of his tongue brushed lightly between the alpha’s lips. Suddenly, the omega’s waist was encircled in a firm hold as the alpha lifted him onto his lap, positioning him to straddle his hips. Before the omega could dip his head again, the alpha tilted his face upward, seeking the kiss that had been interrupted. Their warm lips met anew, soft tongues entwining as A/O pheromones mingled in each other’s mouths.

Soon, the alpha’s breaths grew ragged. The omega pushed him back gently, soothing him in a low voice while cupping his cheeks in both hands.

“Liang Shijing, where are we right now?”

“In the bedroom,” Liang Shijing answered, his words coming slow and deliberate.

“What are we doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“Are you tired?” Wen Yan’s voice was soft.

“Mm.”

“Then why let all those people watch us sleep?” Wen Yan said. “Can you tell them to leave?”

Liang Shijing’s brow creased once more, his subconscious warring against the hallucinogenic pheromones. But when Wen Yan kissed him again, calm washed over him. He cradled the omega’s slender back. “Did they disturb you?”

“Yes, it was so noisy,” Wen Yan replied. “Cheng Zhu’s right outside. I’ll call him over—you tell him to clear everyone out. I can’t sleep like this.”

The black tinted window slid down. Cheng Zhu glanced inside the car and immediately averted his eyes. Liang Shijing’s abrupt order drew no questions from him; he pressed his earpiece and issued a quick command. Within two minutes, the helicopters, convoy, and guard team had all withdrawn.

The gate stood deserted, lit only by the faint glow of a few metal streetlamps.

The omega and alpha remained locked in their intimate pose. Wen Yan slowly draped himself over Liang Shijing’s shoulder, nestling his face into the crook of his neck. “How did you find me?” he whispered.

“Shoes,” Liang Shijing answered curtly.

“You mean there’s a tracker in my shoes?”

“Yes.”

“But how did you know I’d wear this pair today?” Wen Yan pressed.

“Every pair,” Liang Shijing said.

Realization dawned on the omega. So that was why the alpha had allowed him to go out alone lately—he’d been prepared all along. Wen Yan gave a bitter smile, peering past Liang Shijing’s shoulder into the murky night sky. “What do you want to do most right now?”

The hallucinogenic pheromones drew the alpha into the scene he craved above all else, so he replied, “Sleep. Holding you while I sleep.”

Wen Yan smiled softly again, patting Liang Shijing’s shoulder the way he would Liang Wangyou’s to soothe him. Liang Shijing clung tightly to his back, brushing his lips against the skin behind his ear. Little by little, his arms went slack, falling naturally onto the seat cushion. Even a mighty, superior S-class alpha couldn’t withstand the omega’s subtle pheromones. At last, Liang Shijing’s eyelids fluttered a few times before drifting shut…

“Why do you always say things like that… It makes it seem like you really like me…” Wen Yan murmured against his shoulder. “Liang Shijing… have you ever liked me?”

But Liang Shijing was already asleep. No answer would come.

A long while passed before Wen Yan straightened up. In the dimness, he studied that nearly flawless face, tears welling up sadly in his eyes. He lifted the alpha’s hand as if to let it wipe away his tears, but fearing it would only smear them further, he made himself stop after just a couple of motions. Then he slipped off his shoes and set them neatly on the footrest. He cracked the window just enough to let in some fresh air, stepped out of the car, and walked away without a backward glance.