The two of them left the party together, with Gu Yin supporting the “drunk” Xiao Zong as they walked down a long hallway and entered an elevator.

The reflective walls of the elevator mirrored their figures.

It was hard to tell if Xiao Zong was truly drunk or just pretending, but he remained silent the whole time, though it was clear that his mood wasn’t great.

The soft hum of the elevator’s ascent filled the air, making the already tense atmosphere even more stifling.

Gu Yin, like a child who had done something wrong, stood obediently in front of Xiao Zong.

Suddenly, Xiao Zong spoke, “I’m not angry at you.”

Gu Yin responded with a quiet, “Mm.”

The awkwardness between them returned.

Xiao Zong had no idea what his little secretary was thinking. It could only be one of two things: either he was still shaken by what had just happened, or he was upset about Xiao Zong’s earlier remark about not bringing him out again.

Was he too harsh?

In public perception, places like this were filled with influential figures, making it seem unlikely that anything bad would happen. However, people often overlooked the fact that those with power could still engage in despicable acts, even in broad daylight.

Gu Yin had never been to such a venue, so it was understandable for him to let his guard down.

Should he comfort him with a few words?

No.

He was the boss, and he couldn’t afford to lose his principles.

This was Gu Yin’s first time attending such an event, and he had already messed up—drinking and failing to refuse unwanted advances. To top it off, he had even ended up chatting with Ye Yumeng, which had hit every one of Xiao Zong’s nerves.

There would be no comforting. Gu Yin needed to reflect on where he went wrong.

Neither of them spoke, and the silence between them grew heavy. Fortunately, the elevator dinged softly, signaling they had arrived.

The organizers had arranged a presidential suite at the hotel.

The elevator doors opened, revealing Liu Jian, the deputy captain of the bodyguard team, already stationed outside the suite with his men.

Xiao Zong straightened up, adjusted the hem of his suit, and walked out of the elevator without a hint of drunkenness.

Liu Jian stepped forward and said, “Second Young Master, we’ve checked everything thoroughly, and everything is in order.” As he finished, he shot a glance at Gu Yin, his expression smug and almost provocative.

“Thanks for your hard work.”

Xiao Zong said nothing more as he entered the room.

The heavy, carved wooden door clicked shut behind him.

Typically, the president’s assistant would stay in the secondary bedroom of the suite, and Wei Mian enjoyed this treatment regularly. However, for some reason—whether to avoid suspicion or for other reasons—Xiao Zong had asked the organizers to arrange a separate room for Gu Yin.

Climbing into the boss’s bed wasn’t going to be that easy.

Liu Jian’s face was full of mockery.

Gu Yin, seemingly lost in thought, didn’t even glance at him.

After a moment, Gu Yin went back down in the elevator.

Xiao Zong had arrived late, and after barely eating at the party, he had started drinking, leaving his stomach feeling uneasy.

After shutting the door, he leaned against the door panel for a while before lazily making his way to the bathroom.

The suite’s motion-sensor lights flickered on, but Xiao Zong switched them off manually. As he walked, he unbuttoned his shirt and loosened his tie, pausing briefly in front of a full-length mirror.

The person in the mirror had a pair of classic peach blossom eyes—his eyes were long and deep-set, with sharp inner corners and slightly upturned outer corners.

It was said that peach blossom eyes were a sign of flirtatiousness, and the most famous representative of this trait in the Interstellar Federation was Xiao Sinian.

But Xiao Zong didn’t carry that playboy vibe of a wealthy heir. On the contrary, there was a subtle scholarly air about him.

People change over time.

As the hot water fell from the shower, steam filled the bathroom, relaxing his tense muscles.

The mist seemed to shroud his memories, and Xiao Zong’s mind drifted back to the years he had studied abroad.

To avoid the paparazzi constantly tailing him, Xiao Zong had been sent abroad to study at the age of ten.

Xiao Yan had arranged for a butler and servants to take care of him, but the novelty of foreign life soon wore off for Xiao Zong. It paled in comparison to life at home.

After being exiled abroad, Old Master Xiao had never visited him, and Xiao Zong missed his family terribly, relying on weekly satellite calls to stay in touch.

At the time, he had assumed that his grandfather and mother were too busy with their careers to care for him, so one day, unable to hold back, he had typed “Xiao Shi Henghua” into an online search engine.

It was like opening Pandora’s box. News about Xiao Sinian had flooded in like snowflakes, quickly overwhelming his young mind.

The online comments were extremely polarized, completely shattering the image of his father that Xiao Zong had once held in high regard.

Not that he had many memories of Xiao Sinian to begin with.

He met Ye Yumeng when he was twelve.

That year, Ye Yumeng attended a summer camp for design and painting in “Breston, the City of Design,” at a school near where Xiao Zong lived.

Every summer after that, Ye Yumeng would go abroad for training.

They were childhood playmates, and admiration naturally grew.

Ye Yumeng’s gentle personality had helped ease the anxiety Xiao Zong had felt during his Alpha differentiation period.

Even after they had grown apart, Xiao Zong had selfishly chosen to remember only the good times.

However, eight years had passed, and his childhood companion had shed the unpolished gentleness, leaving behind a carefully cultivated image.

The steam in the bathroom thickened, clouding the air. Xiao Zong did seem to have had a bit too much to drink, as his stomach churned uncomfortably, and his throat tightened, as if an invisible hand were gripping it.

The more he had once admired Ye Yumeng, the more disappointed he had been tonight.

He had spoken of change, but this was what that change had amounted to.

Xiao Zong turned off the shower, stepped out, and dried himself off before putting on a bathrobe.

As he tied the robe’s sash, he mused to himself, ‘I’m not that young anymore. Could it really be like Wei Mian said, that in the future I’ll have to take time off just to visit the hospital alone?’

No way. What a joke. The proud Second Young Master Xiao going to a hospital?

Of course not. He would have at least a hundred private doctors brought in with trucks full of medical equipment for a home consultation.

But what if there was a traffic jam?

That’s why they needed to build more airways.

No matter how far his thoughts wandered, they always circled back to work. Amid his rambling thoughts, Xiao Zong had already planned out his entire retirement (just kidding) in detail.

Sitting on the sofa, he lit a cigarette.

After a few puffs, he took out a small box from the inside pocket of his jacket. Inside was a pair of foldable, frameless glasses.

These were Xiao Sinian’s belongings.

There had been much speculation in the media about these glasses, and in fact, they weren’t ordinary glasses at all, but a miniature data analysis and recording device.

It contained thousands of failed experimental data points, and Xiao Zong had spent years sorting through them all.

Xiao Sinian had worn these glasses often, and even while receiving praise and admiration, he never forgot how many times he had failed.

Whenever Xiao Zong was in a bad mood, he would come and review this data.

But this time, before he could even open the device, the doorbell of the presidential suite rang.

The voice of one of the bodyguards came through the central control system, “Second Young Master, Secretary Gu is here to see you.”

“Let him in.”

The hallway was brightly lit, while the room inside was dim. Gu Yin’s long shadow stretched across the suite’s soft carpet as he stepped into the warm, golden light.

The smell of bone broth wafted in with him.

Xiao Zong stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette, and by the time Gu Yin entered the room, the air filtration system had removed almost all traces of the smoke.

Gu Yin stood in the entryway and said, “I made some hangover soup for you.”

Xiao Zong sat lazily on the sofa, dressed in a loose, white bathrobe. A pair of frameless glasses perched on his tall nose, softening his otherwise sharp features, giving him a scholarly and gentle appearance.

Gu Yin’s heart skipped a beat as Xiao Zong looked at him.

For a moment he felt completely exposed, as if Xiao Zong would coldly ask him, “Were you the one at the casino?”

Instinctively, Gu Yin pressed his lips together.

But instead, Xiao Zong asked, “You know how to make soup?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Xiao Zong realised they were too kind—he couldn’t let himself be swayed by a bowl of soup. So, his next sentence was more curt, “Why did you bring it so late?”

“I learned how to do it online,” Gu Yin obediently walked over to the sofa and set everything out on the coffee table. “I borrowed the kitchen, just made something simple.”

The hotel’s kitchen had all the ingredients, and after blanching fresh beef bones to remove any impurities, Gu Yin had simmered them with white radish, ginger, cinnamon, and goji berries. Once the broth turned milky white, he’d added a sprinkle of pepper and scallions before serving.

Xiao Zong’s stomach still ached faintly, and although a part of him was trying to maintain control, the smell of the soup made him involuntarily swallow his adam’s apple bobbing slightly.

Gu Yin crouched by the coffee table to serve the soup.

The dim light cast a shadow of his eyelashes on his pale face, and as he set out the bowls and chopsticks, the line of his neck was completely exposed to the shifting light.

Omega pheromones were hidden just beneath the thin layer of skin where the gland was located.

And yet, he seemed completely unaware.

It was such a simple action, but Xiao Zong suddenly felt like he shouldn’t be watching, as if it were inappropriate. His mouth went dry, and he wanted to look away.

He found himself wondering, What does Gu Yin’s pheromone smell like?

Come to think of it, Xiao Zong had never caught a whiff of Gu Yin’s pheromones.

He had heard that some Omegas had a neutral, almost scentless pheromone—could Gu Yin be one of them?

Gu Yin obediently handed him the soup, and as the warm broth slid down his throat, Xiao Zong’s previously tense stomach finally relaxed.

His words softened, though he tried to maintain his stern tone, “Next time something like that happens, think about protecting yourself first. Don’t worry about anything else.”

Gu Yin: “?”

Xiao Zong stared straight at him and said seriously, “Since I brought you out, you’re representing Henghua. If you get bullied in a place like this, it reflects poorly on me.”

Gu Yin responded quietly, “Oh…”

Seeing Xiao Zong’s expression ease a little, Gu Yin finally dared to explain softly, “I thought he was just drunk.”

Xiao Zong scoffed, “Even when drunk, people know how much Ye Yumeng’s outfit is worth. Even if they didn’t know him, they wouldn’t risk causing trouble.”

After thinking for a moment, Gu Yin asked directly, “Do you like Mr. Ye?”

Xiao Zong, holding his soup, replied coldly, “Do your job, and don’t let me hear you spouting nonsense again.”

But Gu Yin’s eyes lit up. “So, if I do my job well, can I pursue you?”

Xiao Zong: “…”

This was the second time tonight that his little secretary had taken advantage of the situation, and it seemed he wasn’t giving up easily.

Xiao Zong, the proud Second Young Master, wasn’t about to sell himself out for a bowl of soup.

He replied, “No, you can’t.”

Gu Yin wasn’t too surprised. “Oh… okay.”

Xiao Zong had expected him to bargain or negotiate, but instead, he just got that simple response.

He had always been surrounded by admirers. The number of Omegas vying for the position of Second Young Master’s spouse could stretch from the main planet to the colonies, yet this was the first time he had encountered such a casual confession.

It was almost as if he could hear Gu Yin saying in his head, I’ll ask again some other time.

That’s it? That’s all?

Was this a confession with no sincerity at all?

“Not even next time,” Xiao Zong added.

Gu Yin looked up at him, confused. “Huh?”