Assistant Feng led An Xun into the executive elevator and then to the office floor, where he proactively pushed open the door of the office, letting An Xun wait inside.

The decor of the office was similar to that of a study, maintaining a cool and detached style. A few pots of green plants were placed in the corners, but the tips of the leaves were turning yellow, indicating that the owner hadn’t been taking good care of them lately.

After organizing the documents, Assistant Feng asked, “Madam, would you like something to drink?”

“Just plain water.”

Assistant Feng was slightly anxious, unclear about the purpose of An Xun’s visit—whether it was just to see President Bo or to search the office for something.

An Xun sat sideways, leaning against the armrest with his head resting against the back of the sofa. From this angle, he couldn’t see the worried expression on Assistant Feng’s face, and even if he could, he wouldn’t bother guessing about it.

His head was throbbing painfully, as if it were about to explode, only alleviated slightly when his forehead touched the cool leather of the sofa.

Assistant Feng went to the pantry and poured a glass of warm water, which An Xun barely sipped before setting it down on the coffee table.

Putting more energy into his demeanor than he did in front of President Bo, Assistant Feng said energetically, “Madam, I’ve just contacted President Bo. He said he’s stuck in traffic and might be a few minutes late.”

“I see,” An Xun replied weakly. “Keep your voice down.”

Assistant Feng’s face showed embarrassment and he remained silent thereafter.

President Bo spent half his time in the office, hence the rich scent of alpha pheromones lingered there. An Xun swallowed, inwardly scorning his behavior but unable to resist inhaling the pheromones a few times.

The office door was pushed open abruptly and roughly. Before An Xun could turn to look, he heard Assistant Feng shout, “President Cheng.”

Cheng Song entered with his hands in his pockets, lacking any semblance of the dignity expected of a leader. However, his expensive clothes and distinguished looks meant that his casual posture only added a mature charm suitable for his age.

After staring at him for a while, Cheng Song finally managed to ask, “Who’s the one in all black that I can barely see the face of?”

An Xun stood up, lifted his fisherman’s hat slightly to reveal his face, and greeted, “Good to see you, President Cheng.”

“Good, it’s been a long time.” Cheng Song momentarily tensed, then resumed his elegant demeanor to shake hands and exchange pleasantries with An Xun.

He had nothing to say to Assistant Feng and even less to Cheng Song.

Sitting back on the sofa, Cheng Song casually began pruning President Bo’s plants in the corner.

For a while, only the snipping sound of trimming filled the ominously quiet office. Assistant Feng tiptoed out, closing the door quietly behind him.

An Xun pulled his fisherman’s hat down, showing only the smooth expanse of his jaw. The alpha pheromones washed away his fatigue, making him sleepy. No one was there to remind him as he nearly dozed off, but President Bo arrived just in time.

Seeing Bo arrive, Cheng Song playfully slapped his shoulder, “I’ll step out after you guys finish talking.”

“No need, I just have one thing to say.” An Xun’s voice was hoarse, his eyes reddening slightly at the thought of what he was about to say.

Cheng Song, hearing that they were about to discuss something personal, sat back down on his swivel chair.

President Bo took off his coat and draped it over the sofa, maintaining a distance from him.

Sensing a subtle shift in the atmosphere, Cheng Song started to find an excuse to leave, but An Xun beat him to it, “I called you here to discuss a divorce.”

The word was bitter.

President Bo: “?”

Cheng Song: “!”

Cheng Song was more shocked than President Bo, nearly choking on his own spit. He stood up, babbling nervously, “Don’t, don’t, don’t—let’s talk this out. Why talk divorce? If you’re unhappy, just slap him or kick him if that doesn’t work. Young people shouldn’t be so impulsive. It hasn’t been long since you got married; a divorce would be bad for both of you.”

He nudged President Bo, whispering, “Won’t you make up with him? Even a cornered rabbit will bite. I suggest you placate him and stop him thinking about divorce. So what if he tricked you once? At least he loves you, unlike me—who has countless omegas cheating on me without love. Be content with one who truly likes you.”

“I’ll leave now; my nonsense isn’t as important as your matter,” Cheng Song gave President Bo an encouraging look and turned to An Xun, “Anger aside, divorce is a serious matter, not to be joked about.”

Cheng Song left quickly, not hearing An Xun’s slow response, “I’m not joking. I’ve thought about it for several nights.”

President Bo was much calmer. An Xun, his eyes downcast like a docile animal, his head pounding, slowed his speech to make sure he was clear, “Do you have an omega you like outside? If that’s the case, just tell me. I’m not the kind to cling desperately. You don’t need to give me the silent treatment to get the point across, especially since I can’t take a hint.”

“My conditions aren’t much, just one billion, enough for my lifetime. Pay first, then we divorce. You can rest easy; I won’t run off with the money.” An Xun spoke carelessly, his voice growing fainter, “If I run, you can have the police bring me back. This amount would keep me in jail for decades. If you’re worried about how to explain to Grandma Bo, I’ll talk to her until she calms down.”

President Bo remained silent, just looking at him, his gaze deep.

An Xun met his gaze, his eyes as lifeless as stagnant water, “You don’t agree? One billion should be simple for you. I don’t want to drag this out any longer. You dislike me so much you don’t even want to come home, why keep me hanging? Do you know how painful your neglect is?”

Since President Bo had been away, An Xun’s nerves had been stretched to their limit, every sleepless night filled with self-doubt. Even the most resilient spring has its limits, let alone a person.

“You see, you’re still silent. I’ve given in, what more do you want from me?”

During his sensitive period, omega An Xun was fragile and considerate of President Bo’s feelings. He didn’t shout or scream, leaving both some dignity. But his understanding only added to his own heartache.

“Why…” Why could he do whatever he wanted, abandoning him, while he had to grovel and take care of his feelings?

Tears fell as An Xun lowered his head, then became uncontrollable, blurring his vision. He held back from crying aloud, but it only caused him to choke and gasp for air.

President Bo’s blurry figure approached. He seemed to call out to him, but An Xun’s senses were shut off, unable to see or hear. He stepped back, defiant, “Don’t talk to me. Let’s divorce. I don’t want to see you.”

His words were firm, yet tore at his heart. He had thought he could have love, or at least comfort, but it all turned out to be nothing. No honeymoon, forced to not quit his job under pressure, his routine strictly controlled—now he was accustomed to it, but the sudden change in attitude left him suffering alone in an empty space.

It was his mistake; he should never have thought to scheme his way into a marriage with President Bo.

An Xun struggled to breathe, his face pale, a series of grievances bubbling to the surface. His mind was a mess, not knowing what to do next, aware only that President Bo disliked him yet didn’t want a divorce, thinking to keep him suffering under cold violence.

President Bo steadied his trembling shoulders, pulling him into an embrace, “Stop crying.”

Touched by the gentleness, An Xun’s tears fell in streams.

“It’s my fault these days. I’ll go back and reflect.”

President Bo hated seeing him cry helplessly, the deception and residual anger shattered by genuine tears.

These days, he had considered solutions, convincing himself not to care, pretending the deception never happened, and continuing to play the affectionate couple for everyone else.

An Xun’s words caught him off guard, his statements even more so.

The omega clung to his shirt, crying in his embrace, his sobs carefully restrained. President Bo, unaccustomed and panicked, had forgotten how to comfort an omega after being estranged for over a month.

He rubbed An Xun’s head, then touched his face, which burned with fever. At that moment, the omega instinctively rubbed against his fingertips.

The contact with the alpha’s body released the suppressed desires.

The inhibitors failed.

Omega pheromones have a fatal attraction for alphas, serving as a crucial medium for deep communication, especially during heat, which is even more potent.

An Xun’s eyes were misty with tears. He felt pathetic; he had come to discuss divorce, but upon hearing President Bo’s apology, he wanted to forgive him. He forced himself to be resolute, yet his body unconsciously leaned into him.

This wasn’t the outcome he wanted.

President Bo suddenly realized, “You came out in such heavy rain with a fever?”

“If I didn’t come, how would I find you to divorce?” An Xun resisted his touch.

President Bo grabbed his wrists, which flailed wildly, and looked for the inhibitors, but only found those meant for alphas. He immediately called Assistant Feng to borrow inhibitors from omega staff for emergency use.

Assistant Feng, distressed, hesitated to ask omegas for help as an alpha, but President Bo emphasized the urgency. Embarrassed, his face flushed, he hurriedly went to find some.

The inhibitors covered the escaping pheromones. An Xun refused to let President Bo hold him, so he put the hat back on his head and draped a suit jacket over him, wrapping him tightly before half-carrying him to the car and to the hospital.

In the sealed hospital room, the doctor suggested that An Xun ask for a temporary mark from the alpha, which he refused. If not for the IV drip, he would have stayed miles away from any alpha.

“Do you not feel bad?” the doctor asked.

“It’s unbearable,” An Xun controlled his pheromones, which burst forth against his will, luring the only alpha in the enclosed space.

As if he hadn’t seen an alpha in centuries.

His body was more pathetic than his mind.

The doctor laughed at An Xun’s stubbornness, “You can’t keep taking inhibitors like this; your body will break down if this fever continues.”

“I’m not that fragile. Maybe the poison will cure the poison.”

The doctor fell silent, then turned to President Bo, “Mr. Bo, please convince him.”

An Xun muttered, “No one’s advice works on me.”

President Bo felt like he was forced to parent again, responding, “I’ll try.”

An Xun turned away, not looking at him. President Bo opened the beef and kelp porridge Assistant Feng had bought from across the street. The aroma instantly tantalized his taste buds.

Before President Bo could speak, An Xun protested, “I’m not eating.”

His hasty refusal seemed a bit too defensive.

“I didn’t say it was for you.”

Seeing An Xun’s cheeks puff up, almost grinding his molars, he said, “Good, that saves me the trouble of refusing. It’s shameful to waste food; it would make me feel guilty.”

After turning halfway around, President Bo lifted his leg, and An Xun resisted as if competing with him, using all his strength to push down. President Bo pulled a chair over to the bed, secured his right wrist, and turned him around.

Despite An Xun’s resistance, he couldn’t overpower the physically stronger alpha.

Facing An Xun’s flushed eyes, President Bo said, “Being angry doesn’t justify harming your own body.”

The porridge was just warm enough. President Bo scooped a spoonful to his lips, releasing pheromones to ease his symptoms, “Open your mouth.”

An Xun dodged, “I’m not hungry, I don’t need to snatch your food. You can feed your omega.”

President Bo explained helplessly, “There’s only you.”

An Xun: “?” What do you mean, just me? Am I the only fool?

President Bo seemed to hear a joke, “Where did you get that information? When did I ever have someone else?”

“I made it up.”

“Then your imagination is quite rich.”

An Xun’s lips parted slightly, and President Bo skillfully pried open his teeth with the spoon, feeding him a mouthful of porridge.

An Xun, embarrassed and angry, chewed the beef unwillingly, his words muffled, “I said I’m not hungry!”

“I’m afraid you’ll get hungry.”

An Xun retorted, “What’s the use of being afraid? Divorce! I want a divorce!”

“Finish eating first, then we’ll talk. If you don’t finish, there’s nothing to discuss.”

An Xun extended his left hand, “…Give it to me.”

It was just a bowl of porridge. He would eat it.

President Bo raised an eyebrow, “How can you eat with one hand? Are you going to grab it with your fingers?”

An Xun was stumped, “…Just pour it into my mouth.”

“Be a bit more civilized outside.”

An Xun persisted, “I was never meant to be civilized. I don’t match with President Bo in any way; we’re incompatible. We should divorce sooner and end this. How does that ad go? You’re better off, I’m better off, everyone’s better off.”

President Bo silenced his chatter, “If you keep going, even the flowers on the counter will die from your beautiful voice.”

“…”

An Xun was so angry he was speechless.