Wen Yan was still hesitating.
“Why is Dad home right now? Isn’t he going to the Chief’s Mansion today?” Suddenly, a childish boy’s voice drifted in from the entrance hall.
Wen Yan looked up abruptly.
A little alpha dressed in a dark green school uniform appeared at the juncture between the entrance hall and the main hall, trailed by Consul Ji and two Beta childcare workers.
The little alpha stood about 130 cm tall. His jacket hung open over a matching shirt, and his fair cheeks bore two delightful clumps of baby fat. His forehead was broad, his brows and eyes strikingly handsome. Narrow, fanned eyelids framed his gaze, and a straight, refined nose bridge lent him a cute air—childish innocence not yet shed, but a spark of sharpness beginning to show.
Spotting the stranger, he blinked his big eyes and sized Wen Yan up with open curiosity.
Wen Yan struggled to suppress the turbulent emotions churning inside him.
“Liang Wangyou, come here,” Liang Shijing said.
So that was his name, Liang Wangyou… Which two characters? What did they look like written out? Who had chosen it? What meaning did it hold? Did he like it?
“You can head down first,” Liang Wangyou instructed the two childcare workers behind him, turning back to them. One stepped forward to hand him his backpack, then bowed to Liang Shijing in the living room. “Good afternoon, Chief.” She turned to Wen Yan. “Good afternoon, sir.”
Consul Ji led them away quietly.
Liang Wangyou trotted over with his backpack in hand and planted himself in front of Liang Shijing. He snatched up Liang Shijing’s glass of juice, tilted his head back, and took a gulp. He licked his lips right away and griped, “So sweet!”
No one replied, leaving the main hall eerily quiet. The atmosphere turned strangely tense. Undeterred, Liang Wangyou wasn’t the least bit embarrassed. He wedged his little head into the triangular gap formed by Liang Shijing’s bent elbow and torso, sneaking peeks at the omega.
“Sit properly,” Liang Shijing said, pushing him away.
Liang Wangyou refused. He kept tugging at Liang Shijing’s arm to wriggle back into the space. Liang Shijing clapped a hand over the boy’s face; Liang Wangyou dodged nimbly. In Wen Yan’s teary, trembling field of vision, the child scampered right up to him.
Those tiny hands, tiny legs, and tiny face were no longer the flat images from the video. They breathed with warm life, cheeks flushed a healthy pink like little apples.
“Why are you crying?” Liang Wangyou asked.
“Maybe he didn’t sleep well,” Wen Yan said. He wiped the fine tears from the corner of his eye with the back of his hand and forced out what was probably a hideous smile.
“Your voice sounds so nice.” Liang Wangyou batted his big eyes, studying him intently. “Your eyes are fluffy like a little deer’s—so pretty.”
Long, dense lashes crisscrossed his upper lids. With every blink, Wen Yan’s eyes formed like tiny curved fans snapping shut for an instant, the orbs beneath them glossy and bright. Liang Wangyou’s description was vivid and spot-on.
Wen Yan sensed Liang Shijing turning to stare at him as well.
Liang Wangyou wandered over to the gleaming floor-to-ceiling window, its surface mirroring his face. He studied his reflection for a few seconds, glanced back at Wen Yan, then twisted his head repeatedly, as if comparing the two.
Wen Yan tensed abruptly. He wasn’t some shining example of a father—he was an embarrassing blot, hard to even mention. And Liang Wangyou wasn’t a child born of love… The awkward atmosphere surged to a peak in that instant. The main hall fell utterly silent. Liang Shijing made no move to stop the boy’s antics; he simply watched them both, expressionless.
Having finished with the mirror, Liang Wangyou padded back in his little slippers and stopped once more in front of Wen Yan. “I discovered something!”
“What is it?” Wen Yan asked, his voice faint and unsteady.
“Even though your eyes are prettier than mine…” Liang Wangyou pinched a small gap between his thumb and forefinger, giving his head a proud little shake. “Our eyelashes are exactly the same length! You’re the first person I’ve ever met with lashes as long as mine.”
Wen Yan stared blankly, caught off guard.
Liang Shijing let out a soft tsk.
Having shared that “secret” obvious to anyone with eyes, Liang Wangyou grabbed his little backpack and announced to Liang Shijing, “I’m off to the upstairs playground!”
Wen Yan hadn’t even gotten a proper look at him before he was gone. A stifling pallor descended once more, as if oozing from the diamond chandelier overhead. Liang Wangyou’s departure seemed to suck all the light, easy air out of the main hall with him.
After a beat of silence, Wen Yan picked at his fingers. “Is your condition serious?”
“I’m dying,” Liang Shijing replied calmly.
“I’ll stay until you no longer need my pheromones. Thank you for taking such good care of Little You—he’s so lively and outgoing… Liang Shijing, thank you. Thank you for not holding a grudge.” He paused, then reiterated gravely, “I’m willing to provide the pheromones. Sorry for hesitating earlier.”
“Willing to do what?” Liang Shijing asked, as if he hadn’t heard.
“Willing to provide pheromones. And to keep it confidential.”
“And?”
“Willing to stay by your side at all times.” Wen Yan bit his lower lip.
“Make it clear: You came back of your own free will. You’re staying of your own free will. You’re providing pheromones of your own free will.”
“Yes. Do we need to sign a confidentiality agreement?”
“What good is a confidentiality agreement to you? Can you even remember a few things?” Liang Shijing shot back, then strode toward the elevator.
Wen Yan sat there in bewildered silence, turning the words over in his mind for ages without grasping their meaning. Lost in thought, he heard light footsteps approaching. Consul Ji appeared with a warm smile. “Mr. Wen.”
“Consul Ji.” Wen Yan rose hesitantly. “I might…”
“I’m so glad you’re back,” Consul Ji said kindly, finishing the thought for him.
“Thank you…” Wen Yan drifted toward the entrance hall on instinct. “Consul Ji, which two characters make up Wangyou?”
Consul Ji explained patiently. Wen Yan murmured, “What a wonderful name.”
“I’ve already sent someone to fetch your luggage from the hotel. Your room is on the left side of the third floor—across from the young master’s room, right next to the chief’s. We’ve stocked it with seasonal clothes and all the daily necessities you’ll need. Feel free to head upstairs for a hot bath and some rest.”
“No, that’s all right. I can go back to the hotel and get my things myself.” He dreaded the thought of Liang Shijing’s staff uncovering his thick stack of ID cards, like a deck of playing cards.
“Then I’ll go with you. Please don’t refuse,” Consul Ji said with a smile.
At the entrance hall, servants drew open the double kapok doors. The frame captured a corridor of white stone awash in golden light, where the lush expanse of Oak Shade stretched away under the hazy glow. Along the path woven with dappled sunlight, green leaves, and shadows, a convoy of glossy official cars rolled in from the far end. Four secretary-generals clutching laptops disembarked and waited beside the vehicles, while security personnel moved to and fro, running electronic scans on cars and people alike to ensure safety.
“Does Oak Bay look like this even in autumn?” Wen Yan wondered, gazing at the scene with a budding headache.
“Yes,” Consul Ji said. He opened his trench coat and helped him slip it on from behind, then crouched down to smooth out the hem’s gentle drape. “It’s beautiful in spring, summer, autumn, and winter—but you always liked Oak Bay best in the fall, with those golden leaves carpeting the ground. You said stepping on them in slippers felt just like crunching potato chips.”
“But I never said that,” Wen Yan replied with a frown.
“I’m sorry.” Consul Ji paused in his movements for a moment. “I must have misremembered.”
“It’s fine.”
A lot could happen in five years. It wouldn’t be surprising if Liang Shijing had brought other omegas to Oak Bay. With his status and position, countless omegas must have schemed to get close to him.
“Is Liang Shijing heading to the Chief’s Mansion?” he asked, glancing at the convoy.
Just then, Liang Shijing appeared around the corner of the entryway, dressed in a sharply tailored suit. He moved with quick strides, head lowered as he fiddled with the wristband beeping on his arm.
Wen Yan thought quietly that even setting aside his status, any number of omegas would come running for that face alone.
The servants neatly arranged a pair of shiny new leather shoes on the floor. Consul Ji and the bodyguards at the door stood at attention, bowing their heads respectfully. “Chief.”
Everyone was so perfectly in sync that Wen Yan wondered if he should chime in with a “Chief” of his own. Before he could speak, Liang Shijing was already changing into the shoes as he asked, “What are you talking about?”
“Escorting Mr. Wen back to the hotel to pick up his luggage,” Consul Ji explained.
“That’s your job. Why drag him into it?” Liang Shijing asked coolly.
Wen Yan started, thinking Liang Shijing must be annoyed by his entitled behavior—agreeing to stay less than five minutes ago, only to start bossing Consul Ji around. But the next second, Liang Shijing turned to him. “Why are you still standing there instead of going to bed?”
For the moment, apparently, sleep mattered more than providing pheromones. Wen Yan explained softly, “I wanted to go back to the hotel for my luggage myself.”
“Let’s go,” Liang Shijing said, giving him a flat look. It wasn’t clear who he was addressing.
The four Secretaries-General hurried forward as he descended the stairs, briefing him on work matters. Liang Shijing listened while walking. When a bodyguard opened the car door for him, he braced one hand—the one with the wristband—against the frame and murmured instructions to one of the Secretaries-General. Midway through, he suddenly glanced back.
Wen Yan quickly retreated deeper into the entryway to hide.
At that moment, a line of black cars approached from the far end of the Oak Corridor. He stared at his toes and didn’t notice Liang Shijing’s convoy pulling over beneath the green canopy to let them pass.
“Mr. Wen, your car’s here. Shall we head out?” Consul Ji reminded him gently.
