Lunch break was not over yet. Cheng Yan walked down the corridor outside the office, holding the documents he had spent all morning getting signed in one hand while massaging the back of his neck with the other to ease the ache in his cervical spine.
Before returning, he had asked Xiao Lin; Zhao Feng’s people had already left the Song Corporation.
In reality, representatives from Zhao Feng were typically received by the Board of Directors. It was not his department’s turn to handle them, and even Song Yang did not seem to need to make an appearance. However, Cheng Yan’s subconscious always felt that being in the same space as anyone from Zhao Feng would bring terrible luck.
But sometimes, the more you try to avoid something, the more you run straight into it.
As he turned the corner at the end of the corridor, he saw two or three people standing at their office door, seemingly waiting for someone. Leading them was the very person he had spent the whole morning avoiding: Zhao Mingxu.
Did Xiao Lin not say the Zhao Feng people had left? Why were there still three “orphans” left behind at their office door?
His footsteps faltered for a moment, and he inwardly cursed his bad luck. Then, acting as if he had not seen them, he walked straight into the office without looking aside. Just as he pulled out his chair to sit down, the people outside seemed to react. A sarcastic greeting rang out: “Hey, who is that?”
Zhao Mingxu stood at the door, his eyes widening slightly with unconcealed surprise. He walked into the assistant’s office without ceremony, a sneer of deep mockery on his face. “Yo, let me see who we have here.”
Cheng Yan frowned as he watched Zhao Mingxu walk toward him and stop at his desk, looking at him with a tilted chin.
Song Yang had made the same gesture before, but the man in front of him looked purely ridiculous. Clearly lacking in height, he had to rely on camera angles to maintain his haughty posture.
Zhao Mingxu narrowed his eyes and spoke slowly: “You are Zhao, oh, no, wait. Your surname is Cheng now, right? I do not think I remembered that wrong.”
Cheng Yan looked at Zhao Mingxu expressionlessly and did not respond. He only felt his fingers itching; he was already starting to feel the urge to clench his fist.
Zhao Mingxu, however, did not notice at all, or rather, he did not care.
Seeing no answer, Zhao Mingxu laughed triumphantly, his frivolous and contemptuous laughter echoing in the office.
Perhaps his neck got tired, for the man finally lowered his “noble” head and glanced down at the desk. Like a supervisor inspecting the premises, he paced back and forth in front of the workstation. His hands moved annoyingly over the desktop, carelessly nudging small items out of their original positions.
Finally, his gaze fixed on the ID badge hanging from Cheng Yan’s chest.
He leaned in to look, softly reading the title: “General Manager’s Special Assistant?”
The cool voice paused, and then, as if he had heard the world’s biggest joke, he burst out laughing. He could not stop his unrestrained laughter, eventually clutching his stomach and bending over. “Hahaha, Special Assistant? In all my years, this is the first time I have learned that this kind of thing is hereditary!”
The sharp laughter grated on the eardrums. It was hideous, but Cheng Yan remained as calm as still water, showing no emotional fluctuation.
Zhao Mingxu glanced at him, and the laughter stopped abruptly. He spat in boredom, his eyes darting around as if he had another idea. He spoke maliciously: “Just like your loose mother, you were born for a life of serving others!”
As he finished, Zhao Mingxu leaned both hands on the desk, pressing his body closer. When he was less than five centimeters from Cheng Yan’s neck, he took two deep, insolent breaths. In a volume only the two of them could hear, he whispered: “You are even worse than your loose mother. At least she had Omega pheromones to seduce my old man. You are just a useless Alpha who does not even have pheromones. No one would even want you if you crawled into their bed!”
Zhao Mingxu was too close, so close that Cheng Yan could clearly smell the man’s pheromones.
It was a burnt smell, similar to scorched rice.
Cheng Yan raised his hand and pushed Zhao Mingxu away. The force was so great that Zhao Mingxu lost his balance and crashed directly into the table behind him.
Cheng Yan looked down at him as if he had touched something filthy. He pulled a tissue from the desk and wiped his hands meticulously. “Get lost. You stink.”
Zhao Mingxu rubbed his aching waist, a successful smirk curling on his lips. He stared intently at Cheng Yan and shouted to the people at the door: “What are you looking at the door for? Get in here! Can you not see I am being bullied?”
The two people at the door froze for a moment, then walked into the office hesitantly. They exchanged a glance and stood behind Zhao Mingxu, confused.
Zhao Mingxu snorted coldly. “Did you see that? He put his hands on me first! A Song Corporation employee actually attacked someone from a partner company. The Song Corporation must give me an explanation for this!”
An explanation? What kind of explanation? Firing him?
Cheng Yan glanced at Zhao Mingxu, walked a few steps away to toss the tissue into the trash, and then walked back toward him.
Being fired was unlikely, but a pay cut was possible. He did not think it was worth losing money over such a person. He did not want to spend a single cent on someone like this!
In that case, he might as well just apologize.
Zhao Mingxu’s face stiffened, and he subconsciously took half a step back. The movement was so abrupt that the two people behind him had to step back as well.
Cheng Yan stopped, his face normal, but his words carried a chill: “My apologies, President Zhao. Your pheromones are simply too foul. I could not help but give you a push. I am truly sorry.”
It sounded like an apology, but the insult was biting. Zhao Mingxu had often been ridiculed for the smell of his pheromones.
Zhao Mingxu gritted his teeth. Having his sore spot stepped on, he instantly forgot his rising fear. He cursed recklessly: “What the hell are you? How dare you speak to me like that? You are a damn bastard! Your mother was a mistress who gave birth to you; your whole family are homewrecking sluts! Why do you not go die along with that long dead Old Lady Cheng?”
Cheng Yan’s eyes flickered, and his hand hanging at his side clenched into a fist.
He knew he should have avoided Zhao Mingxu, because whenever he encountered this person, he could not help but want to swing his fist into the man’s face. Zhao Mingxu always knew exactly what to say to ignite his rage.
Just as he was about to make a move, a dense scent of peppermint pheromones occupied the space at high speed. Carrying the unique pressure of a top-tier Alpha, it made everyone feel as if they had suddenly fallen into an ice cellar.
Except for Cheng Yan, everyone present felt their legs go weak.
Song Yang walked in from the door, his expression as cold as his pheromones. “Zhao Feng’s people? What are you doing?”
Zhao Mingxu could not withstand the pressure and was temporarily speechless. The two behind him were not much better; all three were pale, barely managing to stay standing.
Cheng Yan stood his ground. He did not look at the newly arrived Song Yang, his eyes fixed intently on Zhao Mingxu.
What did he just say? “Long dead Old Lady Cheng?”
Cheng Yan licked his back teeth, his fist tightening further. He had not given up on the idea of teaching Zhao Mingxu a lesson, even with Song Yang present.
But at that moment, a large, well-defined hand gripped his wrist. It squeezed twice with a hint of reassurance before loosening the grip, successfully halting his impulse.
Song Yang looked at him and asked softly: “What happened?”
Warmth spread from his hand. Song Yang did not let go; instead, he held Cheng Yan’s hand gently. He did not use much force, but the peppermint pheromones surrounded him loosely, carrying a hint of coolness. The contrast of cold and heat strangely calmed him down.
He exhaled, turned his gaze away, and replied stiffly: “Nothing. President Zhao was just asking after my family.”
Song Yang’s brow furrowed. He silently released even more pheromones, pressing down so hard that Zhao Mingxu and his companions could no longer stand.
Zhao Mingxu collapsed directly onto the floor, cold sweat trickling down his forehead.
Song Yang let go of Cheng Yan’s hand, turned, and walked toward Zhao Mingxu. He stopped a few steps away and slowly crouched down. “Offending my person on my turf; whose face are you trying to slap?”
Zhao Mingxu shrunk back, his body leaning away. “I, I am sorry, President Song. I came to ask you out for a meal.”
By this point, Zhao Mingxu had finally steadied his breathing. “Your assistant and I know each other. We are old acquaintances. It is a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding.”
Old acquaintances?
Cheng Yan sneered inwardly but did not expose him. The man was certainly good at finding descriptors for their wretched relationship.
Song Yang chuckled, his tone light and unreadable. “Since it is a misunderstanding,” Song Yang paused, reaching out to pat Zhao Mingxu’s cheek, “then do not let me see this so called ‘misunderstanding’ again.”
Hearing the sound that resembled a slap, Cheng Yan looked over in surprise. Song Yang’s movements were clearly slow, but the impact was significant. Judging by the sound, it was not a light touch.
Sure enough, when Song Yang stood up, Cheng Yan saw Zhao Mingxu sitting on the floor, clutching his face in humiliation. The skin visible between his fingers had already turned red.
Song Yang pulled a tissue from Cheng Yan’s desk and wiped his hands thoroughly. “I will pass on the meal. I am not used to eating out. President Zhao, do not let the door hit you on the way out.”
The rejection was blunt, and he dismissed them directly, leaving Zhao Mingxu with no dignity.
Zhao Mingxu looked at the man before him, feeling the scene was hauntingly familiar, but he did not dare say more. He lowered his head and left silently with his subordinates.
Once they were gone, the office finally grew quiet. Cheng Yan let out a long breath, feeling the tension in his chest ease. Even the air around him felt fresher.
Song Yang tossed the tissue, walked to the door, and turned up the ventilation. Then he looked back at Cheng Yan. “Come on. Go to my office to rest for a bit. There are too many pheromones in here; it needs to air out.”
Cheng Yan nodded and moved to follow, but as Song Yang stepped out first, Cheng Yan froze as realization hit him.
The office was full of Song Yang’s pheromones.
But, why did he not feel uncomfortable?
He even felt…
He reached up to touch his own gland. The familiar silence made his heart sink slightly. He knew what state a reactive Omega gland should be in when facing high-level Alpha pheromones.
Last time, when he went to the bar at midnight to pick up Song Yang, the man’s mere emotional fluctuation had caused his gland to send out a warning. But today, Song Yang had released a massive amount of pheromones, so much that Zhao Mingxu’s group could not even stand, yet he did not feel suppressed at all.
Had his gland regressed again?
But in the next second, a subtle throbbing sensation was clearly transmitted to his brain through the nerve endings of the gland. It felt like a fish that had been underwater for too long finally breaking the surface to breathe fresh air.
A very faint scent began to drift out, entangling with the lingering peppermint pheromones in the air. He was stunned, and before he could distinguish what it was, Song Yang’s voice came from outside.
“Cheng Yan? What are you still doing in there?”
The voice had just fallen when he heard the sound of Song Yang walking back, step by step, perfectly synchronized with the rhythm of his throbbing gland.