His voice was extremely low, audible only to the two of them.

An Xun didn’t want to see the An family, no matter the occasion, important or not. Even though he had let go of his past grievances, he still felt a natural disgust upon seeing them.

He and the An family were inherently incompatible; it was as if they were born to be his bane. If it weren’t for his tough luck over the years, An Xin would have killed him already.

An Xun whispered this to Bo Xiangzhou.

Bo Xiangzhou faced him, admitting that while he had planned the event, the guest list had been drafted by Father Bo. Bo Xiangzhou felt it wasn’t his place to make unilateral decisions, his gaze sweeping the lounge without catching sight of Father Bo.

He informed Shen Qingrang of the situation.

Shen Qingrang said, “Add a few more security guards outside, and if asked, say it was your dad’s idea.”

“Changing plans last minute might not reflect well on…” An Xun couldn’t bring himself to say the word ‘dad’; it felt awkward, the last time he had called someone that was back in elementary school. He said, “President Bo’s image, right?”

Shen Qingrang’s tone was indifferent, “He invited them, let him take the fall.”

An Xun mentally gave Shen Qingrang a thumbs up. There was a reason President Bo didn’t dare make a peep in front of him.

The ceremony wasn’t lengthy, but the black and white funeral hall was laden with heavy sorrow. As a family member, An Xun didn’t stand with Tao Nian; when he felt like crying, he simply bowed his head and held back his tears.

Once it was over and he couldn’t hold back any longer, he threw himself into Bo Xiangzhou’s arms and wept after seeing off the guests.

Journalists who sneaked in captured only a few unclear shots, none showing An Xun’s face clearly. Their hopes were dashed, especially those who had banked on a story about Bo Xiangzhou’s mysterious marital partner to boost their performance.

The problem with unscrupulous journalists was that they shifted the focus from Old Madam to what Bo Xiangzhou’s omega looked like.

An Xun wasn’t sure if this shift was good or bad. Having not gone online for days, he spent his boring workdays sneaking peeks at silly novels to wash away the sorrow, and at night, he would snuggle up with Bo Xiangzhou and go to sleep on time.

He thought he had come to terms with it; on the surface, Bo Xiangzhou looked calm and composed during the farewell ceremony, thanking everyone without a change in expression. But afterward, he seemed out of sorts for days, his work suffering as a result.

The study was lit; the computer screen displayed an unfinished plan, and a coffee cup was discarded after only a few sips, the faint scent of sandalwood mixing with the sharp alcohol.

For over a month, Bo Xiangzhou had been in this state most of the time.

An Xun understood his feelings but couldn’t bear to see him so despondent. Outsiders couldn’t tell; they thought he looked spirited at last night’s business dinner, unaffected by his relative’s death—a true tough guy. Only An Xun saw the fatigue in his eyes.

An Xun moved quietly, not wanting to make a sound, and walked over to him, placing a bowl of wontons on the desk and taking away his wine glass, pushing the bottle aside.

“President Bo, can we talk about something?” An Xun smiled as he squeezed in front of him.

The gap between the office desk and Bo Xiangzhou was small, but An Xun, being thin, squeezed through anyway. It was uncomfortable, the edge of the desk pressing against his thighs, but Bo Xiangzhou made room for him.

“I’m sitting up here, then.”

Bo Xiangzhou didn’t reply, but An Xun knew him well enough to take that as a yes.

An Xun sat on the desk, muttering, “Why buy such a high desk? Aren’t you afraid of getting a spinal disease?”

If it were any higher, it would be right against his butt.

Bo Xiangzhou started to respond, but An Xun quickly stopped him, “Don’t talk, I know you’re tall.”

He wished he were 1.9 meters tall, then he wouldn’t have such a big height difference when fighting alphas, no weapons needed.

An Xun lifted the bowl of wontons and asked casually, “You didn’t eat much today, are you hungry? I just cooked these frozen wontons downstairs. They aren’t as good as fresh ones, but they’re still decent, not hard to swallow at least.”

Bo Xiangzhou didn’t answer, but An Xun chose a beef one for him anyway, muttering, “There were only beef and shrimp fillings left in the fridge, I cooked them together for convenience. The shrimp filling has pork and carrots mixed in, you might not like it, try the beef one first.”

An Xun’s expression was feisty yet unthreatening, and Bo Xiangzhou chuckled, indulging him.

The wonton soup was delicious, the skins thin and the filling generous, a genuinely nice feeling as it went down.

Seeing him eat, An Xun brought up a new topic, “I’m thinking of getting a pet, so I wanted to ask your opinion. Do you prefer cats or dogs? I’m fine with either, as long as they’re good-looking.”

It seemed like he was asking for an opinion, but in reality, he was blocking all of Bo Xiangzhou’s exits.

He shouldn’t have taken that bite.

Bo Xiangzhou, not wanting to crush his dreams, said gently, “You could get some fish to play with.”

He wasn’t interested in cats or dogs, thinking of the shedding hair everywhere made his expression involuntarily disgusted.

Bo Xiangzhou’s cleanliness was a trait that wouldn’t change. Since they got married, no matter the weather, he insisted on showering once a day, changing clothes daily, and even the coats had to be fresh, or he felt Bo Xiangzhou judged him for not being clean.

An Xun compromised, “Alright then.”

Changing Bo Xiangzhou’s mind was harder than starting his own business.

The two types of wontons cooked differently; the beef ones were darker. An Xun scooped another into his mouth, “Don’t bother with fish, I can’t keep them alive. In high school, I had two turtles; one ran away within a month, and the other dried up. After graduation, I bought three goldfish on my way home, and they died from overfeeding the next day. Fish only survive one night in my care.”

Bo Xiangzhou closed his laptop, pushing it aside, “Then you should be called ‘Drowned Fish.’”

An Xun stiffened, his face flushing red in an instant, “Mention that again and I’ll stop feeding you! Starve to death, see if I care!”

Where on earth did this alpha learn such things! Always picking up the worst habits!

Bo Xiangzhou didn’t know where his mischievous thoughts came from, but seeing An Xun always made him want to tease a bit.

He stroked his own hair, saying, “No hard feelings, I won’t bring it up again.”

“President Bo, you know what? You’re no different from the alphas out there.” An Xun felt he had been deceived, blind to think that Bo Xiangzhou was a refreshing presence among alphas, “Your biggest difference is your wealth, but your mouth is just as deceptive as theirs, you’ve said ‘no hard feelings’ so many times! But what happens? You always end up mad!”

“Really mad?” Bo Xiangzhou pulled him down into his arms, “I promise, I won’t mention it again, behave, finish your late-night snack, then you can settle the score with me.”

“President Bo, you’re such a disappointment.” An Xun stood taller than him, his arms around Bo Xiangzhou’s back, holding the bowl and slurping the wontons.

Bo Xiangzhou hugged his waist, as if trying to draw some comfort from his omega pheromones.

Indeed, in such a situation, nothing could comfort an alpha more than omega pheromones.

He was his best solace.

This thought made An Xun’s heart flutter, he affectionately stroked Bo Xiangzhou’s head, noticing the alpha’s predatory gaze, he sheepishly withdrew his hand, “Sorry, let’s call it even.”

He forgot, even in sorrow, Bo Xiangzhou’s precious head wasn’t for him to touch.

Reflecting on the sensation, and when Bo Xiangzhou touched him, it felt like he was petting a dog.

He mustn’t let Bo Xiangzhou touch his head in the future; what if he really started treating him like a pet?

An Xun fed Bo Xiangzhou another wonton, the bowl soon empty. He reluctantly let Bo Xiangzhou have the last one, but Bo Xiangzhou released him to refuse.

He still had a few bites left.

An Xun chewed a few times before swallowing, unlike Bo Xiangzhou’s slow and deliberate eating, his speed was something Bo Xiangzhou couldn’t match.

Realizing this, An Xun’s face turned awkward, he hid behind the bowl, hoping Bo Xiangzhou would spare his words, and swallowed the wonton that should not be mentioned.

Bo Xiangzhou just watched him, smiling, not saying anything to make him uncomfortable.

An Xun sipped the soup, eyeing the wine in the distance, “President Bo, is that wine any good?”

He checked the liquor cabinet three times a day; he knew exactly which shelf this bottle came from.

He’d been coveting it for a long time, staring at Bo Xiangzhou with longing eyes.

Unfortunately, Bo Xiangzhou was a man of principle, “It’s not good, so I won’t let you try it.”

Bo Xiangzhou’s departing figure seemed so cold, deeply wounding An Xun’s heart.

He knew it; this alpha was full of treacherous ideas.

An Xun gnawed on the spoon, suddenly realizing a serious problem; he and Bo Xiangzhou were using the same spoon.

He had specifically changed to a new spoon before coming to the study, but had forgotten about it.

This meant that Bo Xiangzhou might have ingested his saliva…

Damn, that’s really intimate.