Just as An Xun stepped into the company, he ran right into two people he wasn’t in the mood to see.

Meng Xiao and “Dead Second Shrimp” were walking together, their arms so close they were nearly touching. Dead Second Shrimp showed no noticeable reaction, but his usually calm eyes wavered when he saw An Xun. Meng Xiao, on the other hand, had an extreme reaction, quickly putting some distance between them, his face flushing red.

An Xun didn’t notice the awkward atmosphere his presence had caused and asked in confusion, “Did someone hit you? Your face is red like a monkey’s butt.”

Meng Xiao’s face darkened, but unlike usual, he didn’t fire back with insults.

“Did someone actually hit you? Now that’s surprising,” An Xun remarked, and when Meng Xiao ignored him, he shrugged and headed into the company without bothering to make conversation.

He rubbed his chin, thinking about it all morning but still couldn’t figure out why those two were walking together.

Bored with nothing to do, he stared at Meng Xiao’s back, trying to figure out what was different. Meng Xiao seemed to notice his gaze and adjusted his posture, straightening his back while deliberately avoiding looking in An Xun’s direction.

What’s he pretending for?

An Xun didn’t get it. Without Meng Xiao to stir things up, work was incredibly dull—so boring that he felt like a frustrated ghost who couldn’t vent his frustrations, fiddling with his little stress-relief toys instead.

After a round of interviews, it was finally time for lunch. An Xun never got used to the company cafeteria food. Before, he had no choice; now, he simply didn’t want to go. He pulled out his buckwheat pillow, shook off the dust, propped his chin on it, and ordered delivery.

Meanwhile, Meng Xiao’s behavior was unusual. He wasn’t in the cafeteria either, instead sitting at his desk watching videos. From the back, it looked like he was fiddling with something. The sound on Meng Xiao’s phone was slightly loud, so An Xun leaned closer to listen. What he heard made him stare in disbelief.

Meng Xiao was watching a makeup tutorial!

What’s gotten into him? What kind of emotional rollercoaster has he been on these past few days?

Scratching his head, An Xun couldn’t figure it out.

This confusion lingered until the end of the workday. Around that time, job applicants seemed to have all agreed to send their messages simultaneously. With no choice, An Xun stayed late, spending his own time responding to each one.

As he focused on his screen, the sound of a chair moving nearby caught his attention. He glanced over—

Meng Xiao was leaving, his bag slung over his shoulder, carrying the makeup products he had taken from the company. An Xun guessed he’d be practicing at home tonight.

An Xun stayed half an hour longer before leaving, completely drained. As he passed by a café, he spotted Meng Xiao and Dead Second Shrimp sitting together through the glass door, which was so clean it looked invisible. Meng Xiao had a look of admiration on his face—something An Xun had never seen before.

Dead Second Shrimp was wearing a black-and-white checkered shirt. He curled his lips into a sneer at An Xun, clearly condescending, and even beckoned him over with a finger. On cue, Meng Xiao leaned in closer to Dead Second Shrimp.

An Xun had to admit, Dead Second Shrimp wasn’t bad-looking, and his height was average for an alpha. But compared to Bo Xiangzhou’s top-tier family genes, Dead Second Shrimp was just ordinary.

An Xun didn’t deny that Dead Second Shrimp had some merits, but his attitude was revolting. Even while he whispered into Meng Xiao’s ear, his gaze lingered on An Xun.

An Xun wasn’t in the mood to waste time on him. He was already late and didn’t want his dinner to go cold.

Dead Second Shrimp’s smirk deepened, his eyes sparkling with triumph. He must’ve thought An Xun was standing there mesmerized by his charm, regretting how rudely he’d treated him that day. He was just about to push Meng Xiao aside and make a move when An Xun turned on his heel, leaving him staring at his back.

An Xun sneezed repeatedly as he walked home, sniffling. “Who the hell is cursing me?”

A wild idea popped into his head. Could it be that Meng Xiao and Dead Second Shrimp were dating?

An Xun rubbed his nose. Meng Xiao must be blind. They worked at the same company—how could he not know what kind of person Dead Second Shrimp was?

Bo Xiangzhou wasn’t going to work again today. As he leisurely descended the stairs, his natural grace and elegance made An Xun envious. When could he live a carefree life away from his awful father and his dreadful job?

He had it all planned out—first week after quitting, he’d go to France, then the second week to England…

“Focus,” Bo Xiangzhou tapped the table lightly. “Eat properly.”

An Xun instinctively shuddered.

He immediately thought of his terrible boss. Whenever he slacked off, that jerk would knock on the desk to warn him.

“What are you shaking for?” Bo Xiangzhou’s gentle tone was surprisingly comforting.

In truth, Bo Xiangzhou had every intention of encouraging him. He used to think a quiet, obedient partner would be ideal—someone who would stay out of trouble. But after meeting An Xun, he realized how wrong that idea was. An Xun kept everything to himself, never expressed his thoughts, and sometimes he was so daring it scared him, while at other times, he was timid like a rabbit.

This contradictory personality puzzled him. He could easily read his employees but always had to rely on his instincts when it came to An Xun.

Ever since they got married, he had sighed more times than he could count, worrying not just about work but about An Xun as well.

An Xun thought about his strategy. According to the plan, he should first act obedient, then sprinkle in a bit of cute charm, followed by some arrogance to win control.

Hadn’t he already maxed out his “obedient” meter?

He wasn’t sure, so he tested the waters carefully. “President Bo, your desk-knocking sounds just like my boss.”

Bo Xiangzhou didn’t focus on the same point. “Are you afraid of your boss?”

“No, not afraid,” An Xun replied. He was just sick of getting his salary docked and not having anyone to complain to.

“Then why did you flinch?”

“Just a habit,” An Xun lied with a straight face, setting up his image. “When I’m working hard and suddenly hear knocking, it startles me a bit.”

Bo Xiangzhou’s expression remained neutral, making it impossible to tell whether he was pleased or displeased with An Xun’s work ethic.

The plan to act cute could wait. Clearly, he wasn’t “obedient” enough yet in Bo Xiangzhou’s eyes.

An Xun continued picking at his vegetables. He’d set this image for himself, so no matter how much it hurt, he had to stick with it.

Bo Xiangzhou showed a hint of dissatisfaction. “Is your appetite still not back? Eat some meat. If you keep this up, your suits are going to stop fitting.”

“Fine, fine.” An Xun reluctantly shifted his chopsticks from the cabbage rolls to the beef and potatoes. He muttered in frustration, “Why are you being so fierce?”

Bo Xiangzhou rarely joked, but he did this time. “If I’m not a little fierce, you’ll end up a monk.”

An Xun shot back, “Even if everyone else becomes a monk, I definitely won’t.”

Bo Xiangzhou smiled slightly. “If you’re not going to be a monk, then eat more. Don’t come sneaking downstairs hungry in the middle of the night.”

An Xun glared at him. His first instinct was to cover his mouth, but luckily, no one else was around to hear. The embarrassment lasted only a few seconds before fading.

An Xun defended himself, “I wasn’t sneaking around because I didn’t want to eat. I was just in a bad mood and didn’t feel like eating. I usually eat everything! But how was I supposed to know you’d stay up that late?”

Bo Xiangzhou didn’t blame him at all and said, “Is this my fault now? Okay, stop messing around. I’m just teasing you. If you don’t feel like eating, don’t force yourself. I asked the kitchen to buy some frozen food this morning. I didn’t know if you preferred dumplings or something else, so I bought one of each and put them on the second shelf of the first fridge. If you get hungry at night, don’t go fumbling through the cupboards like an idiot, and for heaven’s sake, turn on the lights. What if you bump your head?”

An Xun kept his head down, shoveling food into his mouth. “I’m not that dumb.”

·

The next day went by as usual, except for one thing: An Xun kept catching Dead Second Shrimp hovering in his line of sight. Under the pretense of looking for Meng Xiao, Dead Second Shrimp was actually ogling him. For the umpteenth time, An Xun cursed Meng Xiao for being an idiot. His own boyfriend was eyeing someone else, and he couldn’t even tell.

Meng Xiao never liked An Xun, so whatever An Xun said seemed like lies to him. An Xun wasn’t about to suck up to him or play nice. If Meng Xiao ended up heartbroken, it was his own fault for not seeing things clearly.

Dead Second Shrimp annoyed the hell out of An Xun. The company had a no-dating policy for employees, yet Dead Second Shrimp found every excuse to visit their department whenever the boss was away.

Unable to change the situation, An Xun simply avoided it. He hid in the bathroom for about ten minutes, then, timing it just right, slipped into the boss’s office.

His tone was casual, his posture lazy, with no respect in his eyes for the higher-ups.

The boss’s face darkened, and when he heard An Xun asking for more time off, he nearly spat out blood.

The boss roared, “You want more time off? How many times have you taken off this month? Do you even want your salary? If you don’t want to work, then quit!”

An Xun was all too happy to be fired. Using formal language, he asked with hopeful eyes, “So, when do you plan to terminate my contract?”

“So you want to quit, huh?” The boss’s expression relaxed. “Well, quitting is out of the question. You know how hard it is to find a job, with all the employment pressure. You’ve got potential, and I want to cultivate you because you’ll make something of yourself. But here you are, giving up on yourself. Fine, I’ll approve your leave, but take some time to reflect. Without a job, where are you going to go?”

An Xun crossed his arms, thinking, I can always go back and live off Bo Xiangzhou.

The boss waved him off. “Get out of here, and close the door behind you. Also, make sure you finish that task I gave you.”

“Got it.” An Xun assumed he meant the new employee training.

Back at his desk, An Xun felt utterly defeated, even worse than when they deducted his pay. It seemed like there was an entire galaxy named “Termination” separating him from freedom.

Suddenly, his sharp eyes noticed something odd. The items on his desk appeared to have been moved. He had left a bottle of calcium tablets out on the desk, and although he wasn’t obsessive about it, he did clean the bottle from time to time. He distinctly remembered that the label had been facing him when he left, but now the bottle was slightly off.

He hadn’t noticed anyone suspicious. His colleagues had been busy all afternoon, and questioning everyone would only make him seem paranoid.

Could he have remembered wrong?

Scratching his head, An Xun decided to keep this thought in the back of his mind.

·

The next morning, Bo Xiangzhou woke An Xun up early. Having slept too late and woken too early, An Xun’s brain was still foggy. He was so tired his eyelids barely stayed open, and he yawned so hard that tears welled up in his eyes. His vision was blurry, so he blindly grabbed for clothes, putting on whatever his hand landed on.

Bo Xiangzhou, perfectly dressed in a crisp suit, couldn’t help but chuckle when he saw An Xun’s outfit. “Your vest is on backward.”

The V-neck of the vest was on the back. An Xun mumbled to himself as he pulled it off, “No wonder it was choking me…”

As he lifted his arms, a glimpse of his slim waist flashed before Bo Xiangzhou’s eyes. He looked away and quietly closed the bedroom door, waiting downstairs.

The sound of the door closing startled An Xun awake. Only then did it dawn on him—he had just taken off his clothes in front of Bo Xiangzhou! Would Bo Xiangzhou think he was trying to seduce him again?

What was wrong with his brain…

No more staying up late!

In the car, An Xun hesitated for a while before inching closer to Bo Xiangzhou, lowering his voice and pretending to sound delicate. “President Bo…”

“Speak.”

The white shirt An Xun wore was a size too big, leaving a large gap between the collar and his neck. His pale neck was circled by a khaki-colored suppressant collar, long and slender, making him look fragile. A hint of rose-scented perfume lingered around him. When Bo Xiangzhou glanced over, he unexpectedly caught a glimpse of the delicate skin on the back of An Xun’s neck.

An Xun’s eyes were pure and innocent. “President Bo—”