The streets of the small town, like an ancient painting, were lit under the night sky. Inside the bar, the hazy lights swayed, and wild, ethereal singing accompanied the strumming of guitars, drifting into the distance.
An ant crawled along the winding blue bricks, climbing a flowering vine, its antennae twitching atop the petals of a wooden chrysanthemum.
Lu Shangjin weaved through the swaying figures in the bar lobby, his presence exuding a pheromone that cleared a path toward the bar counter.
The M2 advanced pheromone signaled a strong alpha asserting dominance over territory. Those nearby felt the hostile aura and stepped aside; a few alphas attempting to flirt with Yan Yi immediately withdrew, their lewd smiles vanishing as they slunk away.
“There’s an M2 alpha here?” someone whispered. “The little white rabbit’s been marked… better not compete with the big shot.”
Lu Shangjin perched on a bar stool, elbows on the counter, chin resting on his crossed hands, scrutinizing Yan Yi carefully.
Yan Yi stood, uneasily brushing the ring on his right hand, eyes lowered to his pale, rosy fingertips.
“You scared all my customers away,” he murmured, a quiet complaint.
The light caught his long lashes, casting a soft shadow beneath his eyes.
Lu Shangjin stared at him, instinctively raising a hand to touch his lashes.
Yan Yi leaned back slightly, asking in a calm tone, “What would you like to drink?”
Lu Shangjin’s eyes darkened. In a sudden move, he propped himself on the bar with one hand, pulling Yan Yi close and pressing his lips against his.
“There are still customers…!” Yan Yi panicked, pressing against Lu Shangjin’s chest, but the alpha’s arm restrained him, holding his pushing hands firmly. His small struggles to evade only made his waist pressed tighter against Lu Shangjin.
Finally letting him go, Lu Shangjin left Yan Yi’s lips soft, red, and damp, his breaths shallow.
Like a proud beast declaring ownership of its territory, Lu Shangjin pressed his lips together and said, “Tell me what you like. I’ll make a drink for you.”
He pulled a card from his coat and pushed it toward Yan Yi. “If you’re tired, take the day off.”
Yan Yi brushed his lips and stared blankly at the card with an unclear balance.
It wasn’t that he coveted Lu Shangjin’s money; he resented that Lu Shangjin could casually give things to others while he himself received nothing.
But when Lu Shangjin truly gave it to him, he felt displeased again, as if even this small specialness was lost.
I’m truly a contradictory little rabbit.
Ignoring the card, Yan Yi picked an elegant glass from the rack.
Lu Shangjin watched him skillfully blend the drink as one admires a rare treasure. Eventually, Yan Yi slid a slender glass of pale red cocktail forward, exuding the sweet and tart aroma of cranberries.
“No flowers?” Lu Shangjin said, his gaze slightly disappointed, as if a kindergarten teacher had handed out toys to everyone else but him.
Who could resist such a question?
Yan Yi sighed and opened his wrist, pinching a rose and placing it in the drink.
Though he put carefully chosen flowers in the restaurant vases for Lu Shangjin every day, when he stopped bringing flowers, Lu Shangjin reached for them again.
He was just a spoiled child.
Lu Shangjin lifted the glass to taste it; a simple cocktail yet it carried the elegance of fine wine.
“Does it have a name?” he asked, swirling the glass.
Yan Yi’s eyes curved in a small smile. “Christmas Rose.”
Such equal exchanges were rare. Yan Yi had grown up in an isolated training camp, never really going beyond the segregation base or Lu’s residence. He was inexperienced in the world, and Lu Shangjin rarely asked for his opinions, always arranging things for him.
Yan Yi had always accepted this willingly. Whatever Lu Shangjin asked, he would answer that he liked it.
Back then, his entire world revolved around Lu Shangjin—his world was black-and-white pixelated, and Lu Shangjin was the only vivid color, dazzling and bright.
Lu Shangjin sipped, eyes sparkling with approval. “Very good. A bit less sweetness would make it perfect.”
Yan Yi’s little rabbit ears twitched, then obediently drooped. He rubbed his fingertips together and said lightly, “I’ll try again.”
Lu Shangjin finished his drink and tucked the rose into his coat pocket. “No need, this is fine. I want to try something else.”
Yan Yi looked at the pocket, wishing it were the rose he brought back daily with so much affection.
“I have other customers too.” Yan Yi collected payment from another beta and prepared an “Aria Mirage,” a pink-blue cocktail with wisps of smoke, twirling it between his fingers before sliding it to the beta.
“All right then.” Lu Shangjin leaned sideways against the bar, resting his hand on an empty glass rim. “When did you learn to mix drinks?”
Yan Yi was slightly surprised; Lu Shangjin had never cared about such trivialities, so there weren’t many things they could talk about.
“I learned during PBB training. The base had everything, and there wasn’t much to do in downtime,” Yan Yi said, lightly shaking the cocktail shaker. “I also learned a few foreign languages, but never used them, so I probably forgot most of it.”
The obedient, attentive little rabbit butler had so many other talents that Lu Shangjin had never truly noticed, always distracted by the allure of omegas outside. He had overlooked a hidden treasure right beside him.
Lu Shangjin pressed a hand to his chest.
For no reason, he felt that the little rabbit in a vest looked even better than before.
“What else did you learn?” Lu Shangjin asked, genuinely interested.
“Some Western instruments, but I wasn’t talented, so I stopped practicing,” Yan Yi said. The training camp had been harsh, and memories were more painful than nostalgic.
Yet some endearing people naturally forget cruelty, remembering only the beautiful.
The clock pointed to three a.m. Gu Weizao had long turned off his livestream, sprawled on the soft sofa with his guitar, dozing, while the remaining customers were sparse, yawning over their bottles.
Yan Yi rested his head on the bar, boredom making his rabbit ears tap the counter, up and down, up and down.
Lu Shangjin had slept until evening and remained the only lively presence in the bar.
He wandered the bar, stopping at a wall of messages, and recognized a familiar postcard.
He had long forgotten writing it with Yan Yi. Seeing the familiar handwriting stunned him for a long while.
“Yan Yan, love you till the end of life.”
Lu Shangjin pressed his fingertip against the pen grooves on the white card, as if feeling the distant warmth from ten years ago.
He frowned. The youthful traces had endured until now, now seeming like an awkward childhood memory, slightly embarrassing.
But Yan Yi would certainly remember.
That little rabbit liked to remember all these trivial things.
Yan Yi, dozing on the bar, suddenly heard faint piano notes. Soft and unobtrusive, they gently vibrated against his eardrums.
Lu Shangjin sat at a grand piano in the corner, long fingers with visible joints pressing the keys lightly.
These hands no longer belonged to the little prince from the piano room ten years ago. Calluses covered the pads, old scars marked the back of his hands, yet his fingers danced across the black-and-white keys with the same youthful agility and purity.
The piece was “Luv Letter.”
Gu Weizao, always sensitive to music, initially scoffed at seeing Lu Shangjin at the piano, but soon leaned against the wall, lost in the melody, fingers tapping along.
Yan Yi stood, mouth slightly open, staring at Lu Shangjin, and walked over quietly to listen.
Tears welled in his eyes.
Lu Shangjin turned and beckoned him over, taking Yan Yi’s hand and pulling him into his embrace.
“Do you know this?” he asked, tilting his head to kiss Yan Yi’s temple.
Yan Yi nodded, trembling as he pressed a key, sniffing back tears.
Lu Shangjin smiled faintly, wiping them away. “Come sit. I’ll play for you.”
Yan Yi fell asleep listening to the piano in Lu Shangjin’s arms. Lu Shangjin gently lifted him, placing his head on his shoulder; the little rabbit’s ears were crumpled.
Passing by the sofa, Gu Weizao lowered his voice. “He’s your alpha?”
Lu Shangjin raised an eyebrow. “Who else?”
Gu Weizao bent down to collect empty bottles. “He loves you so much that every story revolves around you, staying forever in a fairy tale. Don’t know if it’s foolish or adorable.”
Lu Shangjin looked down at the defenseless little rabbit sleeping in his arms, smiling through a frown. He carried him upstairs, undressed him gently, and tucked him into bed.
Only then did he notice several missed calls on his phone—all from his assistant.
He had been away from the company for several days, leaving it in the hands of others, and now had to return.
He glanced back at the curled-up little rabbit, stroking his hair while sitting on the edge of the bed.