An Xun hesitated for a long time but couldn’t squeeze out a single syllable from his throat.

In front of him was a gray Range Rover, covered with a thick layer of dust, showing how neglected it had been in the garage. Judging by the model, it seemed to be a few years old. Although its value had depreciated, it was still a car that someone like him, a regular office worker, couldn’t afford.

Bo Xiangzhou typically drove luxury cars worth tens of millions. For him to let An Xun sit in a car worth less than a million—it truly felt like a downgrade for him.

An Xun had a question in his mind: if Bo Xiangzhou looked down on this car, why did he buy it in the first place? Did he just have too much money lying around?

With a complicated mix of emotions, An Xun realized that every day with a rich person shattered his understanding of the world a bit more.

As the car drove steadily along, his browser suddenly pushed a new headline: “Gas Explosion on Huaguang Road,” which had occurred at 11 PM the previous night.

He had already been asleep by then.

Bo Xiangzhou went to bed even later than him!

When the car arrived at his company, An Xun grabbed his bag and walked inside. He hadn’t gone far when he heard someone calling his name from behind.

The voice was warm, like the sound of jade clinking together. In an instant, an image of the speaker’s face appeared in An Xun’s mind.

This guy always acted so pretentious.

From fifty meters away, An Xun recognized him—it was Xiao Zhao from the finance department. He was an alpha, joined the company at the same time as An Xun, though they rarely interacted. Most of their chat history was related to work, with occasional greetings when they bumped into each other at the office.

Xiao Zhao’s walk was graceful, like a peacock in full bloom as he approached quickly but without stumbling. An Xun had suspected more than once that this guy might have taken some modeling classes in his spare time.

Give him a runway, and he could probably walk like a flower blooming.

Before An Xun could say anything, Xiao Zhao smiled and said, “That car—yours? A Range Rover? Not cheap at all. I didn’t know we had a hidden millionaire in the company.”

His probing tone was so well-hidden that An Xun didn’t catch it. “No, it’s a ride-hail. Probably some rich kid trying to experience life.”

An Xun maintained some distance. He felt oddly about Xiao Zhao. Every moment spent with him felt like something was watching him, the places where Xiao Zhao’s eyes lingered gave him the chills, like a snake’s tongue lightly brushing over him, making his skin crawl.

Xiao Zhao smiled again, and sensing that An Xun was looking for an excuse to leave, he skillfully changed the topic, “I noticed you’ve been taking a lot of time off lately. Are you planning to switch jobs? If you find a good company, recommend me as well—I’ve been thinking about changing jobs too.”

“No, not at all,” An Xun replied.

He stared straight at Xiao Zhao, as if trying to read something from his eyes.

It was the first time he’d seen this colleague, with whom he wasn’t very close, talk so much.

It felt like Xiao Zhao was trying to confirm something.

“So, something happened in your personal life?” Xiao Zhao asked. “You don’t need to be so guarded around me. We’re colleagues, and that’s a kind of fate. We’re friends. If something’s bothering you, you can talk to me. I might not be able to help, but I can at least listen and offer some comfort.”

Yeah, right.

An Xun rolled his eyes internally. Stop pretending to be close with me—who the heck is friends with you?

An Xun distanced himself further. “You’re overthinking it. I’m fine, just not feeling well lately.”

Xiao Zhao was taller than him, though not as tall as Bo Xiangzhou. Bo Xiangzhou never looked down on him with disdain, while this guy gave off an air of superiority. It wasn’t constant arrogance, just sudden bursts of it.

After An Xun said that, Xiao Zhao’s demeanor changed suddenly. His smile remained, but his eyes, full of intent, studied him like they were trying to see through him. His gaze lingered on An Xun’s exposed collarbone.

An Xun held back his irritation, waiting until they reached the elevator before throwing a cold glare at him. “Did I give you permission to look at me like that? Look one more time, and I’ll shove your head into the toilet, you disgusting creep. I’ll let it slide this time, but in the future, stay out of my way. If I catch you looking at me like that again, I swear I’ll follow through.”

“Can’t afford tools to deal with your frustration? Then get yourself fixed so you don’t go around acting like a dog in heat.” An Xun gave him a disdainful glance, his eyes filled with contempt.

Xiao Zhao was the most pretentious among their colleagues, but since he hadn’t crossed any lines, An Xun had mostly ignored him.

The feeling of being watched hadn’t been just a figment of his imagination caused by working too much. That slimy creep had actually been eyeing him.

There were few omegas in their small company, barely a handful, and most of them were already married, leaving only him and the finance department supervisor still single.

Back at his desk, An Xun pulled out a packet of shredded pork buns from his drawer and took an angry bite, imagining the bun was that slimy creep’s face.

Can’t mess with the boss, so you pick on me, huh?

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. He should’ve dragged Xiao Zhao to the restroom and given him a proper beating.

With just over ten minutes left until the start of the workday, An Xun used his time wisely. He went on a shopping app and bought a collapsible baton for self-defense, having it delivered to the office.

Alphas had thick skin, and if he used his hands, it would hurt too much. Next time he ran into that creep, he’d pull out the baton and leave a red mark right on his face.

In the break room, An Xun made himself a cup of warm water, rummaging in his bag for a lemon tea packet and some calcium pills.

The pills were imported, from a brand too expensive for someone like him to recognize, covered in English writing that made his head spin.

Uncle Lin had forced them on him before he left.

Bo Xiangzhou was sharp, too. When he saw how reluctant An Xun was to accept the bottle, he made a point of saying, “I’ll check in two weeks.”

With sixty pills in the bottle, one a day, it would be obvious in two weeks whether he had been taking them or not.

He didn’t want to take them. Really, he didn’t.

Slumped over his desk, hands clutching his head, An Xun felt even more like hitting someone.

The tea packet steeped for three minutes, and when he drank it, it was bitter. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, then stared grimly at the ingredients list on the back of the packet.

He had been scammed! It didn’t taste like tea at all—just sour lemon.

Angry, An Xun contacted the seller to complain. When they offered him a ten-yuan refund, he scoffed and promptly left a scathing one-star review with a hundred-word essay attached.

·

Three hours into his workday, An Xun, immersed in his tasks, stole a quick break. His shoulders were aching, and something felt off. He glanced at his coworkers’ backs and his eyes finally landed on Meng Xiao.

He figured out what was wrong.

Today, Meng Xiao was unusually quiet, his figure filled with loneliness. He didn’t even have the energy to taunt him like usual.

An Xun propped his head up with one hand, typing with the other.

[Gulu Gulu]: I feel like I have terrible luck today. Trusted the wrong person this morning, then got stared down by a creepy alpha at work, and now my green tea colleague doesn’t even want to argue with me. I’m so bored.

[Nian Nian]: There’s still an alpha daring to eye you? Does he have a death wish?

An Xun let it all out, spilling everything like he’d found an outlet. The more he typed, the angrier he became, his fingers flying across the keyboard faster than ever before.

Tao Nian’s eyes started to blur from trying to keep up. One message wasn’t even finished before the next one came.

After a while, Tao Nian, being a bit more level-headed than An Xun, pieced together the story.

[Nian Nian]: Ride-hailing cars usually have platform stickers on them. Your story has a hole in it.

[Nian Nian]: He was clearly testing you. It’s obvious he misunderstood the situation. His last few words were his final attempt at gauging you. He probably thinks you’re an omega trying to climb the social ladder, especially after what you said. It seemed normal to you, but to him, it sounded like disdain and rejection.

[Nian Nian]: My guess is, the slimy creep likes you. Send me your chat history with him, and I’ll analyze it for you.

An Xun always trusted Tao Nian’s words. He switched to the messaging app, changed Xiao Zhao’s nickname, and took a few screenshots.

His boss liked to wander around aimlessly, so An Xun made sure he wasn’t nearby, then leaned over his desk and typed quickly on his phone.

Tao Nian’s analysis was detailed, and An Xun was completely engrossed.

Suddenly, the sound of someone tapping on his desk startled him. He nearly jumped out of his skin, only to look up and meet his boss’s eyes.

He quietly flipped his phone face down on the desk. “Good morning, boss.”

The boss sneered. “I’m not having a good morning.”

You bastard. Give you an inch, and you’ll take a mile.

An Xun put on a polite smile. “Boss, don’t get upset over small things. Just endure a little, and everything will be fine.”

The boss chuckled coldly. “I’ll say the same to you. When you’re sick, just endure it, and try to come back to work as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”

“Then try to get sick less often.”

An Xun: “…” This ridiculous demand would make even Bo Xiangzhou cry.

The boss’s voice was loud enough for a few colleagues nearby to hear. “That new girl you hired recently is pretty good—efficient and doesn’t talk much. I checked the feedback from the applicants who interviewed with you. The reviews were decent, but you should change your WeChat name, profile picture, and signature, especially the signature: ‘A pervert, greedy and lustful, if that bothers you, don’t come.’ It’s giving people the impression you’re not reliable.”

The sound of his coworkers stifling laughter surrounded him.

An Xun’s vision darkened. There’s a huge difference between reading something yourself and having someone read it aloud like a public announcement.

The boss continued, “Your profile picture should be a professional one, and your nickname should include the company name and your real name so that people know which company you represent. You’re a reflection of the company’s image. If you keep fooling around like this, you’re going to tarnish the company’s reputation.”

“Boss, you’re overreacting.” How did his personal profile have anything to do with the company’s image? It wasn’t like he was a leader or breaking any laws.

The boss patted his shoulder. “I’m not overreacting. I have high hopes for you, but your work attitude needs improvement. Now, go back to work and bring in a few more excellent employees for the company.”

An Xun felt nothing but deep despair.

He was now even further from getting fired.

Once the boss left, An Xun pushed his keyboard aside and checked his messages.

[Nian Nian]: He totally likes you. His cautious testing was obvious—it’s just you who didn’t see it.

[Nian Nian]: To be fair, judging from the chat logs, he seems like a decent guy. He’s probably not a bad match for you. He knows when to stop talking, but in real life, he’s got those awful alpha instincts.

[Nian Nian]: Don’t worry too much. Next time he looks at you like that, just tell Bo Xiangzhou and have him deal with it head-on.