The air was thin with alpha pheromones, barely a whiff detectable. An Xun usually slept bathed in the calming pheromones of alphas, but with Bo Xiangzhou gone, insomnia plagued him.

His eyes closed, and his mind was eerily alert. He forced himself to sleep, only to wake up intermittently. An Xun muddled through the night, stomach churning with hunger, until he devoured a pack of nearly expired bread.

He felt utterly drained.

Cross-legged, An Xun tried several versions of meditation chants, only to grow more irritable. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but deep down, he truly missed Bo Xiangzhou.

Damn alpha! The minds of older men are truly hard to fathom.

Like a deflated balloon, An Xun changed his bright profile picture to a dark one and his nickname from [Gulu Gulu] to [Drowned Fish].

His silent change was a plea for Bo Xiangzhou to see his hint and get a clue.

Instead of Bo Xiangzhou, Tao Nian took notice.

[Nian Nian]: What’s up, baby? Feeling down lately?

[Nian Nian]: That nickname screams teenage angst. Spill it, what’s got you down? Let Big Brother give you some advice.

An Xun internally sobbed.

[Drowned Fish]: Let it be teenage angst. Just leave me alone.

[Nian Nian]: Something serious? Come on, spill it. It’s not good to keep things bottled up. What if you get sick?

[Drowned Fish]: Stop asking; it’s 2 AM and you’ve got work tomorrow. Go to sleep.

[Nian Nian]: You’re more muddled than ever. It’s Saturday; where am I supposed to be working?

An Xun glanced at his notification bar; indeed, it was Saturday.

… It’s Saturday, and Bo Xiangzhou seems utterly done with him.

Tao Nian, startled by his vague distress, insisted more urgently.

[Nian Nian]: It’s late, and I didn’t want to disturb your husband with a call, but you have to be clear with me.

Nian Nian: It’s okay to be upset, but it’s not okay to lose your courage!

An Xun: “… ”

He hesitated before replying.

[Drowned Fish]: Where did you dig up that line?

After sending the message, he hesitantly made a voice call.

An Xun turned on the speaker, and Tao Nian’s voice filled the room. “Why aren’t you worried about waking your husband today?”

“He’s not here.” An Xun forced a bitter smile.

“Not here; what do you mean?”

“What you’re thinking.”

Tao Nian gasped, “He got into an accident?! Was he saved?”

“No…”

Before An Xun could finish, Tao Nian roared, “NO!!”

An Xun rubbed his ears, nearly shattered by Tao Nian’s roar. “I mean, he didn’t have an accident; he’s just not at home.”

“What’s so important that he’s not home by 2 AM?”

An Xun fell silent; Tao Nian, slow on the uptake, asked in a lower, cautious voice, “Is he still mad?”

He listened intently for an answer, but An Xun disappointed him with his silence; usually, that means agreement.

Tao Nian scrolled up the chat, “How many days has it been? Haven’t you two made up?”

“Not long; today’s the ninth day.”

“What’s he thinking?”

“I don’t know.”

An Xun’s weak voice tugged at Tao Nian’s heartstrings, “Baby, why don’t you come over tonight?”

“No, one of us has to stay home in case Grandma Bo decides to drop by. She’s old, but her instincts aren’t. She can sense when something’s off.” An Xun sounded down.

“You still covering for him?”

“Grandma Bo is good to me; I don’t want to upset her.”

Tao Nian: “Old Madam being upset should be Bo Xiangzhou’s problem; what does it have to do with you?”

An Xun countered: “It’s still upsetting her, and that’s bad for her health either way.”

Tao Nian: “…”

He knew then that his buddy was deep in it. Bo Xiangzhou, wealthy and handsome, the alpha of alphas, had initially showered him with gifts; millions spent as though mere cents, always tender, hosting a lavish, heartless wedding despite no real feelings.

No wonder he’s fallen hard.

Tao Nian paced and fretted—a thorny issue indeed.

Is this the legendary high-class scumbag alpha?

Using money to trap someone, then using sweet words to lure a love-naive omega closer, only to abandon them later.

Tao Nian muttered, “Didn’t expect Bo Xiangzhou to be that kind of alpha? No different from the rest.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

He could already picture An Xun alone and dejected, Bo Xiangzhou uncaring, and here he was, needing to console his friend.

Tao Nian cleared his throat, his voice soft as silk. “Baby, what will you do? Need me to help you talk to him about a divorce?”

An Xun froze, then turned up his phone’s volume. Tao Nian repeated, “Baby, my dear baby…”

“Stop, I’m begging you.” He knew how Tao Nian felt about his falsetto, disgustingly sweet.

“Why, baby?”

An Xun clutched his chest and dry-heaved, “Just stop! I’m going to throw up.”

Tao Nian’s response was unusually quick, waiting until An Xun felt better, then resumed in his normal voice, “Baby, isn’t my voice gentle?”

“Gentle, too gentle.” An Xun leaned against the headboard. “Stop calling me baby; I’m too old for that; it’s embarrassing.”

“Alright.” Tao Nian teased “Baby.”

An Xun lacked the energy to argue, distracted by annoying Meng Xiao messaging his alt account.

He ended the WeChat call, switching to a phone call. Tao Nian looked confused. An Xun explained, “I’m chatting on my alt. Wanna hear something funny? About that green tea beta colleague I told you about, he loved an alpha who flirted with him while chasing omegas. After some indirect meddling by me, I made sure he saw it, and instead of getting mad, he’s still madly in love.”

“Then, just yesterday, that alpha moved on to someone else.” An Xun spoke, forgetting his own heartache, and chuckled, “I commented on his rant about a new colleague’s circle; I just asked if he’d blocked the boss yet. I didn’t even need to provoke him much, and he came at me, saying I was gloating.”

“I purposefully asked him a few questions about his love life; his reaction was even more explosive, cursed at everyone in the An family.” An Xun recalled, suddenly remembering that idiot’s girlfriend was that same barista he had flirted with before.

Eye-opening that such an idiot could still be liked after ruining his image.

Tao Nian bit back a remark, feeling perhaps there was little difference between him and that barista; one won’t divorce, the other won’t break up, both utterly devoted.

Not wanting to spoil his newly lifted spirits, Tao Nian changed the subject, retelling funny incidents around him.

An Xun listened while bantering with Meng Xiao.

[Green Tea Meng]: Who misses you? How pathetic must I be to think of you. Stop with your provocations; you just want to trap me into exposing myself, don’t you? I’m smarter now; I won’t let you trick anything useful out of me.

An Xun replied: Is your love life a state secret or tied to some corporate confidentiality agreement? Still trying to trick me; you’re overestimating yourself; why would I bother?

[Green Tea Meng]: I told you, stop using reverse psychology on me.

An Xun shot back: You’re sick.

Climax of Tao Nian’s story: “Hmm?”

“Not you talking to him. Go on.” An Xun multitasked.

[Green Tea Meng]: Typical of a rich family’s canary, cut off from a real job, still so arrogant in speech.

[Green Tea Meng]: Old men sure do pamper. Wonder how long he can love you.

Normally, he’d have laughed and replied, these words bouncing off him harmlessly. But today was different; his mood was sour; he privately referred to Bo Xiangzhou as the old man.

He knew Meng Xiao didn’t mean him, but he still projected Bo Xiangzhou into it.

His tone was too aggressive. His alt was nothing like his main; how he raged, how he spoke, it came off domineering.

When angry, he lost half his reason, his speech not just self-deprecating but brimming with venom.

[I Am Your Dad]: Yeah, old men do pamper, kept in a villa all day, spending money that’s not mine, expenses covered wherever I go, hardly see him once a month, don’t have to endure the boss’s oppression to earn money that couldn’t even save a life.

[I Am Your Dad]: You sound so jealous; want to experience it too? I could recommend a few, although you’re not good-looking and you’re not young anymore, but someone might fancy you. Beg me a bit, and I might take the trouble to find you a decent one.

[I Am Your Dad]: You taking so long to reply; are you moved?

An Xun tossed over a screenshot of this month’s spending.

Twenty-six million, a relatively modest spender in a wealthy family.

Meng Xiao didn’t reply for over ten minutes.

[Green Tea Meng]: Keep pretending.

Then nothing more.

[I Am Your Dad]: Struck a nerve? Know why you can’t find a place without Photoshop traces?

[I Am Your Dad]: Because it’s all real, dumbass.

Then, Meng Xiao blocked him.

An Xun stared at the glaring red exclamation mark on his screen, feeling no triumph, only profound distress.

His show of pride had backfired.

The money was all Bo Xiangzhou’s.

He chuckled bitterly, like a madman, canceling all pending deliveries to save a few thousand of Bo Xiangzhou’s money, feeling a bit better.

Tao Nian, knowing he wasn’t listening, kept talking anyway.

A grayness settled over An Xun; he said, “Nian Nian, I’m tired.”

“Then sleep.”

“Okay.”

·

He waited two days, but no word came from Bo Xiangzhou.

It seemed Bo Xiangzhou truly didn’t care about him anymore.

An Xun convinced himself that he was never that important to Bo Xiangzhou, just like Liu Tang back then, mistaking his tolerance for fondness.

Even with Bo Xiangzhou absent, the estate was well managed by the butler, everything orderly. The only thing amiss was him, becoming more and more abnormal.

He’d wake up startled in the middle of the night, unable to sleep again, sitting for hours, often zoning out while trying to distract himself with Tao Nian.

For this, Tao Nian even changed his contact name to “Heart Lost Patient, Handle with Care.”

An Xun rubbed his eyes. In the heat of the third dog day of summer, the other side of the bed was ice cold.

He borrowed a tape measure from Uncle Lin, measured several times, took the average, and childishly placed three pillows in the middle of the bed, drawing a clear line of demarcation.

He had it figured out; if Grandma Bo asked, it was because Bo Xiangzhou hadn’t said good morning, and he was mad.

After finishing up, he lay in bed, staring blankly, feeling it still wasn’t enough, and divided everything in the room with a clear boundary, stark and separate.

As he was returning the tape measure, he bumped into Old Madam heading upstairs.

Old Madam’s appearances were always sudden, with no pattern to trace. An Xun’s panic lasted less than a second before he smoothly jogged over, eyes crinkling with a smile, and called out, “Grandma.”