The car, a black SUV, a standard business vehicle, pulled up at the agreed-upon alley—it seemed Bo Xiangzhou had come straight from a business deal.

What could be so urgent that he’d abandon his beloved work?

With questions swirling in his head, An Xun climbed into the vehicle. As soon as he was inside, the partition rose, reminding him of a scene from a domineering CEO novel. He shrank a little at the sight of Bo Xiangzhou’s grave expression.

He had flirted before, but that didn’t mean he was an omega so open to advances.

Bo Xiangzhou’s voice was hoarse, his face still as impassive as a deep well, “Shake your head, get rid of the foolish thoughts.”

An Xun complied, “Cleared my head, President Bo, please speak.”

Bo Xiangzhou’s throat moved slightly, seeming to gather a great deal of courage, “Grandma is in the hospital.”

Those five words struck like thunder, echoing through the sky.

An Xun’s first reaction was disbelief, but he knew Bo Xiangzhou didn’t lie, especially not about something so significant. He’d be mad to joke about this.

Moreover, the Old Madam’s condition had indeed been poor.

Words choked in his throat, resulting in a prolonged silence.

An Xun placed his hand over the alpha’s, “How is she? What did the hospital say?”

It was an accepted fact among the Bo family that the Old Madam wouldn’t live long, a topic they did not shy away from, but he hadn’t expected this day to come so soon.

A warmth spread from his fingertips into his heart. Bo Xiangzhou grasped back, massaging his brow, “The hospital is asking about the choice of the cemetery.”

The implication couldn’t be clearer.

Deadbeat had messaged him; the company had shown him the email, unpolished, filled with his own catch phrases and idioms, making it instantly recognizable.

Deadbeat’s message was foul, using every bit of vocabulary he knew.

But An Xun wasn’t in the mood for a retort. He set his phone to silent, fingers curling slightly in Bo Xiangzhou’s palm as a momentary comfort.

An Xun softened his voice, “Try to cheer up, Grandma wouldn’t want to see you sad.”

Bo Xiangzhou asked abruptly, “Did you eat at the company?”

“I did.”

An Xun stowed his bag in the car, pulling his jacket zipper high to cover the red design underneath.

Bo Xiangzhou pulled the zipper down just a tad, revealing a corner of the design, which somehow looked better than fully zipped.

He didn’t embrace An Xun as intimately as usual in public; they walked side by side, Bo Xiangzhou slowing his pace whenever An Xun couldn’t keep up.

The high-end ward was empty, the white ceiling and walls stark, with only a few bright flowers adding a splash of color but unable to mask the underlying fear, making the atmosphere almost suffocating.

An Xun steeled himself, but still couldn’t hold back his emotions when he saw the Old Madam barely breathing on the hospital bed, tubes all over her. Life had reached its limit, and the advanced medical techniques could no longer snatch her back from death’s grasp. The tubes were mostly removed, only a few left to maintain her fading life.

The hospital was powerless, the family devastated.

An Xun arrived late, standing with Bo Xiangzhou just outside the crowd. Before they could speak to the Old Madam, her trembling fingers moved slightly, signaling him to come closer.

The event was unexpected, An Xun dared not ask Bo Xiangzhou too many questions, only guessing the cause from the doctor’s comforting words to the family.

It was a sudden cerebral hemorrhage.

Just the day before, the Old Madam who stole his emoticons was now hanging by a thread. An Xun composed himself, took Bo Xiangzhou’s hand, and approached as the crowd parted. The Old Madam managed a faint smile, lifted her hand slightly, and An Xun placed his hand in hers, mustering a forced smile.

The Old Madam said nothing, merely patting his hand back weakly.

Tears welled up in An Xun’s eyes.

His real-life interactions with the Old Madam weren’t extensive; they were more like online friends who shared their troubles and guided each other.

Every meeting, the Old Madam would invariably bring a heap of gifts and quietly bad-mouth other Bo family members.

Elder Tao Nian, Shen Qingrang, and she were what made him feel a sense of kinship.

Missing any one of them could make him cry for hours.

Bo Xiangzhou timely pulled him back, letting someone else take their place. Crying wasn’t appropriate here; one person’s tears could trigger another’s, and the Old Madam’s last memory shouldn’t be of everyone crying.

Unable to speak, the family finished their words and left the Old Madam to rest slowly, her eyes closing perhaps for the last time.

Four people stayed in the room all afternoon, Shen Qingrang showing signs of fatigue, touching the somewhat disheveled Father Bo’s shoulder, who held his hand. Shen Qingrang didn’t lash out or tell him to leave but instead said to Bo Xiangzhou, “You take An Xun home first; we’ll handle things here.”

Bo Xiangzhou nodded and wrapped An Xun in his arms, leading him away.

Before closing the door, An Xun looked back. The Old Madam’s eyes were naturally closed, a smile on her lips, as gentle as when they first met.

She truly liked him, and he still couldn’t understand why the Old Madam favored him.

Was it just because of their high pheromone compatibility? An Xun didn’t believe it.

A heavy sadness hung over the Bo family as the car drove halfway, then Bo Xiangzhou instructed the driver to detour to a high-end restaurant.

The restaurant’s sign was in flowing, beautiful English script—Chuchoter.

With some added decorations and changed interior design, An Xun entered without any hesitation. The reception staff were the same, but the manager and cashier had changed. The place felt unfamiliar, a stark contrast to his first impression.

An Xun clearly remembered Bo Xiangzhou’s gaze at that time, indistinguishable from how he looked at ordinary people, though now there was a slight difference.

He wanted to reminisce, but he knew now wasn’t the time.

An Xun had no appetite, a few bites enough to fill him. Fearing An Xun might get hungry later, Bo Xiangzhou fed him until he was somewhat satisfied.

He had sat in the hospital room all day, blocking out everything else. He had been missing for half the day, his WeChat flooded with messages—half from Deadbeat, half from Tao Nian.

He sent Tao Nian an ambiguous emoticon, turned on Do Not Disturb for the incessantly messaging Deadbeat, then leaned back in his chair, not wanting to speak another word.

For the first time, he felt death was a profoundly sad thing.

He wouldn’t be this upset even if his own mother, whom he barely remembered, died. He had only seen a few photos of her over the years, her vivid features nearly forgotten.

A sudden tearfulness overcame him, and he impulsively hugged Bo Xiangzhou.

Bo Xiangzhou’s hand on his back, the scene looked like mutual consolation.

Neither spoke, but it was as if their minds were linked, each understanding the source of the other’s melancholy and how to ease it.

Time, Bo Xiangzhou thought, might be the only remedy.

An Xun collapsed onto the bed, moving so quickly he let out a loud cry from tweaking his neck.

Bo Xiangzhou still had things to handle, and An Xun, usually a man of few words, was even quieter today.

Rubbing the sore spot, warmed by the comforting atmosphere, An Xun moved his neck—it felt better—and refused Bo Xiangzhou’s suggestion to have it checked at the hospital, urging him to attend to other matters.

They hadn’t expected the Old Madam, who had been in good spirits, to suddenly fall ill. They were unprepared, leaving everything to Bo Xiangzhou to handle.

Bo Xiangzhou was destined to pull an all-nighter, drinking coffee to stay alert. An Xun, fearing for his health, switched his coffee for hot milk, insisting they drink it together.

An Xun squeezed next to Bo Xiangzhou, who reviewed several cemetery plots, choosing ones with excellent feng shui, though he was never quite satisfied.

The Bo family, as prominent as they were, had their family crises broadcast online. An Xun searched online for the grave of the elder Mr. Bo and suggested placing the Old Madam’s grave nearby, which Bo Xiangzhou found feasible, settling one of the Old Madam’s concerns.

With the issue resolved earlier than expected, An Xun licked the milk at the corner of his mouth and pushed the now-cold milk toward Bo Xiangzhou, coaxing, “President Bo, it’s okay for an alpha to drink milk. You don’t have to drink coffee to prove you’re tough. If you really can’t stand it, I won’t tell anyone.”

An Xun’s reassurance was dubious, “I really won’t tell, I’m very discreet.”

Bo Xiangzhou touched the cool cup, “Honestly, I couldn’t tell.”

“President Bo, you’re really breaking my heart.”

An Xun, impatient with his hesitance, forcibly fed him the milk, a bit spilling over his lips. Guilty eyes met deep ones as An Xun hastily wiped it away, pressing the cup to his lips to feed him the last few sips before making a quick escape, rinsing the cup downstairs.

Bo Xiangzhou’s lips were pale but flushed from the recent interaction, looking rather alluring.

An Xun wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it, switching roles, he tucked Bo Xiangzhou in, turned off the light, and crawled into his embrace, “Goodnight.”

The next afternoon, the bad news arrived.

An Xun had braced for it, having seen the last message the Old Madam mustered the strength to send.

He didn’t need to be involved in planning the funeral, just to appear at the ceremony.

Bo Xiangzhou advised him not to take a few days off, encouraging him to focus on work.

An Xun tried, nearly causing a disaster on the first day, his mind clearly elsewhere. His sporadic chats worried Tao Nian, who thought Bo Xiangzhou was giving him the cold shoulder again, almost ready to confront him violently. An Xun calmed him down, summarizing the situation in a few words.

From then on, their conversations deliberately avoided the topic of the Bo family.

On the day of the ceremony, Tao Nian, who was barely acquainted with the family, also attended. Reporters trying to cover the event were stopped outside; Tao Nian, unfamiliar to the guards, was mistaken for a reporter until Bo Xiangzhou sent someone to bring him in.

Tao Nian pulled An Xun aside, “I saw the An family here too.”