An Xun pretended to cover his face and wipe away tears, trying to establish himself as the victim in the eyes of the onlookers, while using his peripheral vision to closely observe An Xin’s every move.

Even though, if things escalated, he would have the upper hand, this wasn’t the right occasion to embarrass Bo Xiangzhou. After all, Bo had worked tirelessly for years to build a good reputation, and if people thought he was someone who blindly protected his spouse without regard for right and wrong, his image would be destroyed. An Xun didn’t want to drag the Bo family into personal matters.

Sigh, dating a rich person is really comfortable but also such a hassle, he thought.

He tugged at his collar, feeling a bit warm. Was the air conditioning turned up too high?

Calculating the time, he realized his heat cycle was approaching—perhaps this warmth was a signal from his body.

Perfect. Now he had an excuse to take a few days off.

Once the crowd had dispersed, An Xun made his way through the dessert area. No matter how sharp Bo Xiangzhou’s gaze was, he couldn’t possibly see through all these people to catch him drinking.

He ordered a glass of red wine with a higher alcohol content. One glass made him feel light-headed; two would probably get him scolded like a schoolkid.

An Xin kept glancing back sneakily as he grabbed a glass of wine and headed to a corner. While he was pretending to act casual, An Xun knew him too well—he was definitely up to something.

But why was he grabbing a drink? Was he planning to poison him?

An Xun kept a close eye on him, and whenever An Xin tried to dodge, An Xun would follow. It was like a real-life spy drama, each step mirroring the other’s.

With An Xun’s constant presence, An Xin’s plan never came to fruition. An Xin, being relatively unimportant in the grand scheme, wasn’t noticed by others. He had underestimated just how persistent An Xun could be. If he’d known it would turn out this way, he wouldn’t have provoked him in the first place, only to now find himself in a miserable predicament.

An Xin dragged An Xun out of the desert area, visibly frustrated. “An Xun, do you have a grudge against me or something?”

There was a large potted plant blocking their view from others, and they kept their voices low, their movements discreet. An Xun dropped his pitiful act and said, “What, no more calling me ‘brother’? A moment ago, it was all ‘brother’ this and ‘brother’ that, right? You get close to me when people are around, but as soon as they’re gone, you don’t recognize me anymore? Trying to use my status to sneak your way into high society?”

An Xin sneered, “What status? The only reason you have any standing is because of Bo Xiangzhou. Without him, who would even know you? Anyone who didn’t know better would think you were a beggar.”

Bo Xiangzhou noticed the change in An Xun’s expression from a distance. Before he could come up with an excuse to shake off the CEOs who were hovering around him, he received a text message.

[Baby]: Keep talking, don’t worry about me for now.

An Xun rolled up his sleeves. Tonight, he was determined to give An Xin a good beating.

An Xin laughed maniacally, “Did I hit a nerve? Don’t rush; I’m not done yet. Brother, do you like Bo Xiangzhou? But how can you be so sure that Bo Xiangzhou likes the real you? Haven’t you been wondering about that lately? Well, let me tell you—”

“No, he’s always liked the obedient, quiet, and well-behaved. Want to guess why?” An Xin’s smile was sickly, his tone slow as if deliberately trying to provoke An Xun. “Back when he studied abroad, he had a really close omega friend. I heard that friend was a pianist, much more gentle and patient than you.”

An Xin’s words definitely stung. An Xun shot a reassuring look at Bo Xiangzhou, maintaining a smile on his face, though his voice was icy cold. “You said it yourself—‘heard.’ Ever considered that maybe he just hadn’t met someone he liked yet, so he set those kinds of expectations?”

“Brother, he’s thirty, nine years older than you. He’s seen things you haven’t, experienced people you haven’t. You can’t be sure he hasn’t loved someone else. Just because there’s no gossip online doesn’t mean it never happened, right?” An Xin moved closer, blocking the view from others, and tugged at An Xun’s collar. “I heard all this from his ex-boyfriend, Liu Tang.”

“Do you really think I’d believe you?”

“If you don’t believe me, then what’s with your clenched fists?” An Xin took An Xun’s hand and slowly pried open his fingers. “Brother, I never imagined that after college, I’d still have a chance to mess with you.”

Years of resentment were on the verge of exploding. Thinking of Bo Xiangzhou and how well the Bo family had treated him, An Xun held back his anger. “I’ll give you three seconds. Get lost.”

A gleam of smugness flickered in An Xin’s eyes. “Bo Xiangzhou likes obedient—”

Before An Xin could finish, An Xun grabbed him and disappeared from view.

The banquet hall had two exits, a main door and a side door. The side door led to a storage hallway, which was usually deserted. After navigating through a few twists and turns, An Xun found a secluded spot and kicked An Xin in the leg.

An Xin didn’t dodge; instead, his smile grew more unhinged. “Brother, that kick doesn’t compare to when I pushed you down the stairs back then.”

“Just spit it out. What’s your plan?” Even a fool could see something was off. An Xun pulled up a rickety chair and sat down.

“If you don’t get a few more kicks in to vent your anger, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

“And why would I regret it for the rest of my life?” An Xun asked, his tone indifferent.

An Xin casually said, “Because you drank the champagne I gave you. I added some laxatives.”

An Xun didn’t quite believe it. An Xin rarely told the truth, but the anger was too much to hold back. He gave in to his frustration and kicked An Xin a few more times.

As long as nothing broke, legs would heal, but other body parts were more fragile. He didn’t want to give An Xin any leverage over him.

An Xin lay on the floor, and a blister pack of pills slid out of his pocket—whether by design or accident was unclear.

An Xun kicked the pills toward himself and shook them. “What’s this? Are you into some black market deals now?”

The back of the pill pack was blank, offering no information. Of the eight pills, two were already gone.

An Xun picked up his phone, ready to call the police.

Suddenly, An Xin lunged at him, snatching the pills back and smashing his phone against the wall. “It’s just something that increases…desire. When an omega takes it, their hormones spike, messing with their heat cycle prediction and causing it to come early. The same goes for alphas.”

An Xun’s vision darkened. “Are you insane?!”

“I didn’t plan on giving it to you! I bought it for Cheng Song, but you had to provoke me with your looks during the engagement ceremony! I only glared at you, and he immediately warned me to behave. Why should you get away with everything? You’re just lucky, aren’t you? Well, I’m lucky too. Why isn’t it me marrying Bo Xiangzhou?” An Xin’s face twisted with rage, her once beautiful features now contorted beyond recognition. “Why hasn’t Bo Xiangzhou divorced you yet? Even that old lady’s bones have turned to dust!”

An Xun punched him, “Watch your mouth.”

An Xin spat out a mouthful of blood. “Cheng Song is a playboy. His brother isn’t, but he’s too scared to love anyone. Sang Qi has a wife, and Bo Xiangzhou is no different from having no one. My original target was Bo Xiangzhou. I had my plan all set, but then the old lady chose you instead, all because of the civil affairs office’s recommendation!”

“Why don’t you go complain to the civil affairs office then? They arranged the marriage.”

“If I could, I would’ve done that long ago!”

An Xin’s loud shouting nearly deafened An Xun. He could feel a wave of heat rising within him—not from the heat, but from his body’s reaction.

The laxative was a lie. He had actually given him the drug. An Xun had held onto a sliver of hope, but now that was shattered.

He kicked An Xin a few more times in the stomach, yanked his hair, and forced him to make eye contact. “This matter ends here for now. In a few days, I’ll come back and settle the score with you for all the things you’ve done wrong over the past twenty years. I’ll get my revenge, one step at a time.”

“Aren’t you afraid Bo Xiangzhou will find out you’ve been lying to him?” An Xin’s scalp burned from the pain.

“If he finds out, so be it. If he doesn’t like it, we’ll divorce.” An Xun liked Bo, but not to the point of losing his mind.

If Bo didn’t like him, An Xun wouldn’t cling to him. He’d calculate his fair share, leave with dignity, and live a good life afterward.

Bo Xiangzhou was a great partner, but without love, they’d just become strangers, returning to the polite distance they once had, as if their intimacy had never existed.

An Xun didn’t want to live that kind of life.

His heart wavered. The more resolute and insane An Xin became, the more uncertain he felt.

Bo Xiangzhou’s standards for choosing a partner hadn’t changed in years. Every year, journalists would ask him what kind of omega he liked, and he always gave the same answer. That’s why An Xun had worked so hard to act like a well-behaved, controllable omega.

Now that he had succeeded, he couldn’t find any joy in it.

He swiftly dealt with An Xin, dusted off his jacket, and on his way back, ran into three bodyguards and Cheng Song, who was surrounded by them.

It was over.

Guess I’ll lock myself in the guest room and ride it out tonight, An Xun thought.

But in the next moment, Bo Xiangzhou appeared in front of him, his tone full of obvious worry. “Baby, didn’t I tell you not to run around?”

“I wasn’t running around.” It was more of a planned escape.

Bo Xiangzhou pulled him close, scanning him up and down. Seeing no major issues, he finally relaxed. “Baby, you scared me to death. Do you know that?”

When he noticed An Xun was missing, he had abandoned the group of people, checked the surveillance, and found out that An Xun had slipped into the side hallway.

Naturally, they had also seen what happened in the corridor. Although the footage was old, and the audio unclear, the black-and-white images still captured An Xun’s emotional turmoil, leaving Bo Xiangzhou deeply uneasy.

He held An Xun’s hand and gently ruffled his hair, but the comfort he offered was lost on An Xun, who only felt like this was the last bit of warmth before the apocalypse.

The main players of the evening, including Sang Qi, had gathered. They weren’t shocked by the scene because they had already processed their initial surprise.

The only one truly frightened was An Xun. An Xin feigned fear, shedding fake tears, trying to grab onto Cheng Song’s sleeve to stand up. Cheng Song sidestepped, causing An Xin to fall to the floor again.

Cheng Song’s older brother, being the eldest present, spoke up, “Let’s call the police and let them handle this.”

Embarrassed that such an ugly scene had unfolded in someone else’s home, An Xun felt guilty. The engagement was supposed to be a joyful occasion, and now the two hosts’ happiness had been ruined.

Just as An Xun was about to take responsibility, Bo Xiangzhou pulled him back. “No need to involve the police. It’s just a private matter; we’ll settle it ourselves. Besides, this is a personal issue, and it’s not really our place to interfere, is it? Mr. Cheng, I’m truly sorry for the inconvenience tonight. The kid’s a bit wild, and I didn’t keep an eye on him. I hope you can understand that young people tend to have tempers and minor disagreements like this. The fault is mine. I’ll make it up to you another day.”

Sang Qi, always one to join in on the fun, chimed in, “Xiangzhou, you’re calling this a minor disagreement?”

“I’ve watched the surveillance, and I saw it live too. One side talked, the other fought; it went back and forth for over ten minutes. In the end, neither side was seriously hurt, so yes, it’s just a minor disagreement,” Bo Xiangzhou said, pulling An Xun protectively into his arms.

The others all turned to look at An Xin, who was still lying on the ground. Bo Xiangzhou added, “Didn’t he just stand up a moment ago? Mr. Cheng, are you not going to help him up? If you don’t, and he keeps lying there, he might end up blaming my baby for it.”

An Xun poked him, “Stop calling me baby.”

Calling him “baby” in a situation like this was beyond embarrassing.

Cheng Song had already anticipated this outcome. To save face for his friend, he said, “Brother, why don’t you head back? This isn’t worth blowing out of proportion. I’ll handle it quietly and thoroughly. If you don’t show up at your own engagement party, people might start thinking you’re too eager to get on with it.”

Having reached this point, the elder brother gave up on trying to settle things fairly and returned to the banquet with his partner.

It was clear that Bo Xiangzhou was biased in An Xun’s favor.

Cheng Song gave a signal to the two bodyguards, then turned to An Xin and said, “Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough? I’ve given you plenty of chances, but you still chose to stir up trouble. If I let this go, do you think it means I have no temper?”

“Get out.”

An Xin’s pitiful act didn’t earn him even a shred of sympathy from Cheng Song. He continued, “Didn’t you say you were pregnant? If you really are, shouldn’t you be more careful? Or is it fake?”

His plan had succeeded, but it had also failed. This was his last chance. Whether he could stay by Cheng Song’s side depended on how well he adapted to tonight’s situation.

An Xin shot An Xun a venomous glare. It was all because An Xun clung shamelessly to Bo Xiangzhou that Cheng Song didn’t even bother to offer him a few words of concern.

An Xun didn’t glare back; he still had a few questions that remained unanswered.

Pregnant? How could An Xin be pregnant? He didn’t look it.

An Xun recalled the kick he’d delivered to An Xin’s abdomen. Bo Xiangzhou whispered, “It’s fake. Even if it were real, Cheng Song would probably thank you for kicking it away.”