But Ji Weishi still hadn’t figured out why that couple had deliberately said those words right as things were coming to an end. It was as if… as if they were intentionally trying to tell him that there was something fishy going on here.
Just as he was lost in thought, Shen Buqi spoke up first, “A-Shi, I don’t feel very well. Let’s head back first.”
Only then did Ji Weishi snap out of it, noticing that Shen Buqi’s usually cold, pale face was now completely white.
He reflexively reached out to touch him, but Shen Buqi lightly dodged his hand.
Ji Weishi’s hand froze mid-air.
A look of stun flashed through his eyes.
Seeing Ji Weishi look so lost, Shen Buqi felt awful too, but he really couldn’t control himself. For some reason, the words spoken and the actions taken by that Alpha-Omega couple kept echoing in his ears, scene by scene, word by word.
It made his scalp tingle and his stomach churn.
Ji Weishi looked at him with heartache. “I’m sorry, we should have pulled out earlier.”
Shen Buqi shook his head, forcing a smile through his discomfort. “It’s fine. Let’s go play something else.”
Ji Weishi looked at him, his gaze deep and gentle.
A light drizzle suddenly began to fall from the sky, the fine threads weaving into a misty sheet. It didn’t hurt or feel cold as it brushed against his face, it was just a little itchy.
Shen Buqi lowered his head, hiding from the rain and dodging that piercing gaze.
“Xiao Yi,” Ji Weishi suddenly called out to him. Shen Buqi hesitated before looking up, meeting that gentle smile. “Don’t be afraid. Do whatever you want to do. Let’s go home now.”
Qi Qiushui’s excursion plans were forced to a halt. When he ran over to pick them up, even through his mask, one could tell his expression was tense, his lips pressed into a flat line.
Seeing that Qi Qiushui had something to say, Ji Weishi shook his head.
He first led Shen Buqi to another lounge, coaxing and gently pushing him to get some sleep first.
Then, he locked the door securely, walked over to the cockpit, and sat down with a dark, somber face.
Seeing that Ji Weishi was alone, Qi Qiushui took off his mask. Surprisingly, there was a long, narrow gash on his face. The wound was fresh and still bleeding, looking incredibly stark against his fine skin:
“I didn’t see Zhou Qingran. I was beaten up by a few other S-rank Adjudicators from District 6.”
Ji Weishi frowned, casually twirling the chain bracelet around his wrist. “You couldn’t beat them?”
Qi Qiushui let out a heavy sigh.
“One of them is clearly an Alpha, but for some reason, they can emit an S-rank Omega pheromone. I… was careless.”
The jingling of the silver chain came to an abrupt halt. Ji Weishi’s fingers froze, his pupils shrinking instantly. “What did you say?”
Where was this?
Shen Buqi felt as though his consciousness had detached from his body, drifting through the air, passing through layer after layer of walls, until he arrived at a courtyard heavy with an oppressive atmosphere.
His soul snapped back into place. He was finally sitting down.
Beside him, an extremely emaciated, long-haired man had his back turned to him. The long black hair swayed across the man’s slender waist, exposing fingertips that were excessively pale.
Shen Buqi couldn’t see the man’s face clearly, but he could faintly see him part his lips, his voice carrying clearly into his eardrums:
“The red beans of Jiangnan bear the bitter weight of yearning, year after year, the flowers bloom as I miss you, my Lord.”
A tear slid down the man’s cheek and onto his fingertips. Shen Buqi’s heart twinged, and he suddenly felt a wave of empathy, as if an ocean of emotion was surging within him.
He instinctively reached out to catch that tear, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t lift his hand. He could only watch helplessly as the person wept.
His own heart data began to ache in tandem.
“Xiao Yi, Xiao Yi, wake up!”
A familiar voice pulled Shen Buqi back to reality. When he opened his eyes, everything in his vision was blurred. His head spun. He wanted to say something, but his chest felt so congested that he couldn’t utter a single word.
Ji Weishi’s overly beautiful face appeared before him, his deep dark eyes rippling with profound concern, worried to the absolute limit. “Are you okay, Xiao Yi? Here, have some water.”
Shen Buqi still hadn’t fully recovered from that bizarre, oppressive dream. He took a few sips from the cup pressed against his lips.
Shifting his position, Ji Weishi wrapped an arm around him and asked, “Do you want to take a day off? Ever since we got off the mecha yesterday, you haven’t really been awake. I’m very worried.”
A faint sun, almost invisible, appeared in the sky, a morning norm for District 7, where all light was hazy.
Yet, Shen Buqi felt even more stifled. He shook his head, forced himself to sit up, and smiled. “I’m fine. Maybe I’m just too tired. I feel better now, I’ll go to work.”
This was a flat-out lie, he just didn’t really want to see A-Shi right now.
An emotion akin to fear flooded his heart, but Shen Buqi couldn’t describe it, so he could only use work as an escape.
He didn’t dare look up at Ji Weishi’s expression, and thus missed the deep, dark light flashing in Ji Weishi’s eyes.
Ultimately, Ji Weishi spoke in a helpless tone. “Alright, then how about I walk you there?”
Even though Ji Weishi had already taken a step back, Shen Buqi still shook his head out of sheer instinct.
He scrambled to make up an excuse:
“I… I’m just afraid you’re too tired. You should rest well at home. I’ll be back at noon, okay, A-Shi?”
He stumbled over his words, but perhaps because those panicked, pleading dark eyes were too hard to refuse, Ji Weishi agreed.
Shen Buqi practically fled to work, walking in a flustered rush, yet bad luck still managed to find him.
As he neared his workplace, he was blocked by a group of Alphas.
He didn’t recognize them and wanted to bypass them, but the leading Alpha accurately called out his name:
“You’re Shen Buqi, right?”
Shen Buqi maintained an excessively cold expression, his eyes devoid of any emotion.
The Alpha was very tall and heavily built. His extended hand was covered in thick body hair, which caused physical discomfort; Shen Buqi instinctively took a step back.
This reaction made the group of Alphas exceptionally satisfied. The leader said, “My bad, I’m always running around outside, so I don’t recognize everyone in District 7. I heard from Er-Er that you’re pretty good at tinkering with mechas?”
Shen Buqi ignored him and turned to leave.
However, the group of Alphas immediately swarmed forward to form a circle, trapping him in the center. A fight was inevitable.
Shen Buqi loosened his wrists, his lips still pressed in a tight line.
This played right into the leading Alpha’s hands. He smiled maliciously. “Shi Xi mentioned to me that you’re quite capable. Want to give it a shot?”
The shrinking distance between them brought a touch of confusion to Shen Buqi’s pitch-black eyes. Wasn’t this person the one blocking him? Why was he still asking whether he wanted to give it a shot?
These people who picked fights with him were all so strange.
Just as the Alpha was about to throw a punch, a soft, anxious voice called out sharply. “Stop!”
Zhao Er stopped the Alpha, looked at Shen Buqi with tears in his eyes, and whispered something into the Alpha’s ear.
Only then did the Alpha nod triumphantly. He made a hand gesture and led the group of Alphas away. As they left, one of the Alphas improperly pinched Zhao Er’s cheek.
A flash of disgust crossed Zhao Er’s eyes, though he ultimately didn’t openly show it.
These actions weren’t considered overly crossing the line, and normally, Shen Buqi would just ignore them. But today, he actually felt an urge to vomit.
His stomach kept churning, he didn’t know what was wrong with him.
He just felt disgusted, utterly disgusted.
Without even looking at Zhao Er, he walked expressionlessly toward the workshop.
Zhao Er seemed to want to say something to him, but probably seeing that his expression was off, he remained silent.
The boss was still calculating accounts. Seeing Shen Buqi and Zhao Er walk in one after the other, a thoughtful look appeared in his eyes before he lowered his head to continue accounting.
Everywhere was dead silent. Having arrived quite early today, work hadn’t started yet, so Shen Buqi sat at his workstation in a daze.
It wasn’t until Chen Zixuan arrived that the room regained a bit of vitality.
She was sneakily clutching a large bag, crouching as she crept inside.
Walking over to Shen Buqi, she noticed he was spacing out, his face as frozen as frost. Biting her lip, she plucked up her courage and called out, “Brother Xiao Shen!”
Shen Buqi snapped out of it and looked at her, meeting a pair of hands rubbing together in a pleading gesture. “Brother Xiao Shen, can you help me store some things? I have a lot of books here. My sister flipped through them yesterday and told my dad, and now they won’t let me read them.”
Shen Buqi nodded. There was a large cabinet next to his workstation, which was used to store unused components, it was still half empty. It didn’t matter to him who borrowed it.
Chen Zixuan was so happy she almost jumped. Without needing another word, she swiftly stuffed the books into the cabinet.
Just then, Gao Haoyang walked over with a helpless look on his face. “Xiao Xuan, stop hiding them. Your sister specifically told me to keep an eye on you and not let you stuff things over here.”
Chen Zixuan froze. She regretted it immensely in her heart, why couldn’t she have woken up just a bit earlier? But since things had come to this, she was determined to protect these books.
Several of them were banned editions that she had saved up for months by skipping meals, asking a friend to buy them for her.
Gritting her teeth, since fortune favors the bold, she said brazenly, “Brother-in-law, am I that kind of person? I just think these books are really good, and it would be such a waste to throw them away. So I’m gifting them to Brother Xiao Shen. Right, Brother Xiao Shen?”
She blinked furiously at Shen Buqi. Gao Haoyang also looked at Shen Buqi in confusion. “Is that true, Xiao Shen?”
Shen Buqi’s already chaotic brain simply had no capacity to process two different signals. Seeing him freeze, Gao Haoyang instantly knew that wasn’t the case.
Gao Haoyang was an orphan who had married into his wife’s family. When they married, his sister-in-law was just a little girl, and since her own mother passed away early, he and his wife had raised her like their own daughter.
Usually, he was easygoing because his wife had a fierce temper. Now, seeing the kid lying through her teeth with a shifty look, he knew he had to be serious.
Thus, he put on a stern face and looked at Chen Zixuan:
“Xiao Xuan, don’t talk nonsense like that next time. Those books of yours are either about romance or that kind of stuff. Why would your Brother Xiao Shen read that for no reason?”
Chen Zixuan pouted. Seeing that she couldn’t protect her books, she completely lost her filter. “This kind of book is exactly meant to cure the sexual shame that you and my sister have. The illustrations inside are drawn so well, the explanations are great, and the interpretation of sexual behavior is very spot on.”
Sexual shame? Sexual behavior?
Shen Buqi suddenly caught these terms. Associating them with the unpleasant experiences from yesterday, he faintly felt that he might actually need these books.
Thus, amid Gao Haoyang’s earnest lecturing, he suddenly spoke up.
“These books are indeed a gift for me.”
Gao Haoyang: ?
He answered with difficulty. “Xiao Shen, there’s really no need for you to lie for Xiao Xuan. It’s really fine, the family is just worried that a young girl like her keeps reading these unrealistic things…”
“Alright, Old Gao,” the boss interrupted Gao Haoyang. His emerald eyes curved slightly as he curled his lips, “These books were indeed meant for Xiao Shen from Xiao Xuan. I heard it all just now while I was balancing the accounts.”
Shen Buqi was still in a daze. When he looked up, his gaze locked directly with those emerald pupils. For some reason, he felt that those deep eyes held something different compared to usual.