Over the next two weeks, Shang Yichen had his secretary track down Zhou Yi’s whereabouts, but it seemed as though Zhou Yi had vanished without a trace. No information about him could be found.

The lack of progress only made Shang Yichen more irritable. His temper flared in the office daily, making the entire staff in the president’s office walk on eggshells. They were terrified of making any mistakes that might earn a harsh reprimand from him.

The employees would avoid him if they could, but his secretary, unfortunately, couldn’t. Every day, Shang Yichen would chase him down, asking for updates. If there was no progress, he would vent his frustration with scornful words. The secretary was growing increasingly frustrated. What is Shang Yichen thinking? he wondered. He was always indifferent towards Zhou Yi, so why is he so obsessed with finding him now?

After yet another scolding, the secretary left the office with a pale face, leaving Shang Yichen sitting alone, tired, in his office chair. He stared at his phone screen, where a screensaver he had set not long ago was displayed—an image of Zhou Yi, taken when he had been sick, lying in bed. Even though it was only half of his profile, Shang Yichen couldn’t help but look at it over and over again, as though he were possessed.

It was the only thing that brought him even a semblance of peace, as though Zhou Yi were still by his side.

Where is Zhou Yi now? Shang Yichen thought, his eyes closed as he leaned back in his chair. It felt ridiculous. When Zhou Yi had been with him, he hardly noticed him, like a shadow—present but never fully there. Now that he was gone, Shang Yichen couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Shang Yichen hadn’t dared to return to the apartment that Zhou Yi had lived in. The apartment was filled with memories, and stepping inside would only remind him of the emptiness left behind. When Zhou Yi had been there, it had been warm and alive. Now, it felt hollow. No one would check if he ate, no one would care about his health, and no one would love him like Zhou Yi had.

He regretted letting Zhou Yi leave so carelessly that day.

He also realized that he knew very little about Zhou Yi—beyond his contact information. And now, with Zhou Yi missing, Shang Yichen didn’t know where to start looking for him.

The strange number had sent him only two photos, and after that, nothing. Shang Yichen, stubbornly, had sent numerous messages, cursing and demanding to know where Zhou Yi was, but he received no reply. It was as if he were being deliberately ignored, or perhaps blocked. Either way, he was left in the dark, with no news about Zhou Yi.

Shang Yichen stared at the photo on his screensaver, calling Zhou Yi’s name softly to himself. “Where have you gone?”

At that moment, his phone buzzed with a call from Meng Rongze, who invited him to join him for a drink. Though Shang Yichen was in a depressed state, he didn’t know what else to do. After a moment’s hesitation, he agreed.

When he arrived at the private room, the party was already in full swing, with loud voices and music filling the air. He pushed away an Omega trying to get close and walked straight toward Meng Rongze, who was sitting on the sofa.

There was someone else sitting next to him, a stranger, and the two seemed to be deep in conversation. Upon noticing Shang Yichen, Meng Rongze raised his glass and waved. The stranger greeted him politely, “Hello, Mr. Shang.”

Shang Yichen, clearly uninterested, nodded indifferently, sat next to Meng Rongze, and took a drink from the table without saying a word.

Jiang Xu, who had been greeted coolly, held his composure but was obviously taken aback. He understood that this was the wealthy social circle, and his primary goal was to establish connections that could benefit his business. He wasn’t about to make a scene.

Meng Rongze broke the silence with a smirk. “You look like you’re in a bad mood. Who’s pissed you off this time?”

Shang Yichen, silently placing his empty glass down, retrieved a cigarette from his pocket, but still said nothing.

Meng Rongze rolled his eyes, then leaned in with a curious expression. “I heard you’ve been looking for your substitute lover lately?”

The rumor had spread quickly. Shang Yichen, not one to hide his personal affairs, had made no effort to conceal it.

Shang Yichen, still silent, took a drink from his glass, his mood growing darker.

Meng Rongze, now impatient, nudged him with his elbow. “Say something. Weren’t you and Shu Ning doing well? Why did he suddenly leave to study abroad? It’s good, isn’t it, that the little stand-in is gone? Why are you looking for him again?”

Shang Yichen lit his cigarette and slowly replied, “Shu Ning said she wanted to continue her studies abroad, so she left. As for Zhou Yi… I want to get him back.”

Meng Rongze’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? Don’t you like Shu Ning? You didn’t even try to keep her. And now you’re after Zhou Yi again?”

Shang Yichen took a deep drag of his cigarette, his face clouded with frustration. “I don’t feel that way about Shu Ning. As for Zhou Yi, I just want him back. The house feels too lonely without him.”

Meng Rongze stared at him, confused. “Are you serious? If your house is so lonely, you can always find someone else to fill the space. There are plenty of Betas out there, and you can have anyone you want. Why does it have to be him? Isn’t he just a Beta? His status is low, and he can’t even have children. What’s so special about him?”

Zhou Yi’s different. He’s different… Shang Yichen repeated in his head, but he couldn’t find the words to explain.

Meng Rongze, still perplexed, let out a disbelieving laugh. “What happened to you? Why the sudden obsession with this Beta? You’re making yourself look like a fool.”

Shang Yichen gritted his teeth, a knot forming in his stomach. He muttered, “You don’t understand. Zhou Yi seems to be avoiding me. I’ve tried searching for him, but I can’t find any trace of him. I just want to see him, talk to him, and have things go back to how they were.”

Shang Yichen held up his phone to show the screensaver with Zhou Yi’s photo, staring at it longingly.

Just as Meng Rongze was about to respond, Jiang Xu, who had been silent up until this point, spoke up hesitantly, “Um… Mr. Shang, I think I’ve seen the person you’re looking for.”

Shang Yichen’s breath caught in his throat. “What? Where did you see him?”

Jiang Xu hesitated, then said quickly, “I saw him at a bar on Central Street. He seemed… seemed to be looking for a romantic partner.”

Shang Yichen’s face turned pale. “Are you talking nonsense? Zhou Yi would never go to a bar! Are you sure you recognized him correctly?”

“I didn’t mistake him,” Jiang Xu said firmly. “He looked exactly like the person in the photo on your phone.”

Shang Yichen felt a surge of disbelief, but Jiang Xu took out his phone and pulled up some photos. “By the way, I took a picture that day. I also recorded a video. I’ll show you.”

Shang Yichen took the phone from him, his fingers trembling as he scrolled through the photos. There, he saw Zhou Yi’s familiar face, but the sight of him being held in someone’s arms made his stomach twist with anxiety.

His heart pounded as he demanded, “Where’s the video?”

Jiang Xu, sensing the tension, quickly opened the video. It was only about ten seconds long, but Shang Yichen watched it over and over, his shock growing with each replay.

Meng Rongze, noticing his distress, asked, “What did you see?”

Before Shang Yichen could answer, the phone slipped from his hand, crashing to the floor with a thud. His chest tightened, and the room felt eerily silent despite the party raging around him.

The video had shown Zhou Yi in the arms of none other than Liang Xianzhang.