Ruan Shuyang felt Pei Siyue’s dark eyes held an unusual depth. After locking gazes for a moment, his heartbeat inexplicably quickened. He quickly looked away and brought up another matter on his mind.
“Also…” He swallowed nervously, his fingers creasing the corner of the contract. “This necklace I’m wearing—could it be sold publicly?”
Pei Siyue neither immediately agreed nor refused. Instead, he asked, “Why do you want to do that?”
“I…” Ruan Shuyang hesitated, gathering his courage to look at Pei Siyue again. He saw that Pei Siyue’s expression wasn’t stern; his dark eyes were calmly fixed on him.
He rarely asked others for favors, as almost no one around him was willing to help. At first, he feared rejection and failure, but seeing Pei Siyue’s expression, his fear vanished. He spoke earnestly, “I want more omegas to be protected, to avoid being induced into heat by alpha pheromones.”
Pei Siyue nodded slowly. “It can be done.”
Ruan Shuyang’s expression instantly brightened.
“But selling these necklaces presents some challenges,” Pei Siyue continued. “The craftsmanship is complex, the production cycle is long, and the costs are high. If the key is lost, removing the necklace requires special tools, and the necklace itself cannot be repaired. If sold publicly, these would all be issues.”
He had only recently developed this material himself, and due to these complications, public sales hadn’t yet been feasible.
Originally, he intended to offer it as a custom option for high-end clients through Ruiji Medical, but if Ruan Shuyang wished to sell it, that was also an option.
Designing some attractive styles would make them more visually appealing when worn.
“Then…” Ruan Shuyang found Pei Siyue’s reasoning compelling. His small face scrunched up in distress as he asked, “What should we do?”
Pei Siyue ruffled his hair and simply said, “Figure it out yourself.”
He had Jiang Wu bring in the meal.
While eating, Ruan Shuyang was still pondering the issues Pei Siyue had just raised. Distracted, he nearly stuffed a mouthful of rice up his nose.
Pei Siyue helplessly took his chopsticks away. “How childish—eating so carelessly you nearly choke?”
Ruan Shuyang realized what he’d just done and flushed instantly, his face turning as red as a ripe apple, tempting and delicious.
“I, I…”
He stammered, unable to form coherent words.
He certainly wasn’t a child incapable of eating properly, yet for some reason, he always seemed to act childish whenever he was around Pei Siyue.
“Never mind,” Pei Siyue reassured him. “You’re still young, only eighteen. You’re still a kid.”
Ruan Shuyang bit his lip, feeling even more embarrassed.
He always thought he was grown up—eighteen years old, practically an adult.
After Yu Xianbo passed away, no one told him he was still a child anymore. Only Pei Siyue did.
He continued eating slowly.
Why wasn’t Pei Siyue his real father or brother?
If he were, wouldn’t he be so much happier?
He felt torn between Pei Siyue and Chi Ye—both options were appealing and he wanted to go to both.
Pei Siyue didn’t say yes or no, only telling him, “My personal assistant only needs to work when I’m at Ruiji. When I’m away, you can do your own things—like drawing design sketches or going out to play. If you want to go out, just tell Ji Huai to drive you.”
Ruan Shuyang’s mouth slowly formed an O of surprise. The terms were incredibly generous.
That meant he’d have tons of time to sketch designs, review prototypes, and pursue his own projects.
“Is that really okay?” Ruan Shuyang asked incredulously. “Wouldn’t that make me seem unprofessional?”
“Not at all.” Pei Siyue shook his head. “Your role is solely as my personal assistant at Ruiji. You don’t need to handle anything else.”
Ruan Shuyang didn’t fully grasp it, but he got the gist.
It seemed to mean he was Pei Siyue’s personal assistant at Ruiji, free from other responsibilities. If Pei Siyue wasn’t around, he’d be free.
“And I spend no more than four hours a day on average at Ruiji.”
It sounded so easy. The scales in Ruan Shuyang’s mind tipped instantly.
He tentatively asked, “When you’re not here, can I really go out and have fun?”
Truthfully, he still loved Chi Ye’s club, loved the atmosphere there, loved T University.
Pei Siyue studied Ruan Shuyang for a moment before slowly nodding. “Alright, but it’d be best if Ji Huai drives you.”
Ruan Shuyang immediately replied, “Then I’ll learn to drive.”
“Good.”
Pei Siyue then instructed Jiang Wu to bring over the personal assistant’s labor contract for them to sign together.
Ruan Shuyang signed numerous documents in a daze, inexplicably feeling as if he were selling himself.
After signing, Pei Siyue left the office for a meeting. He messaged Chi Ye: Sorry, senior. I found another part-time job and can’t join the club after all.
Chi Ye saw the message quickly, feeling inexplicably that it must be related to Pei Siyue picking up Ruan Shuyang yesterday.
He closed his eyes, unable to control the swirling, unsettling guesses. Impulsively, he asked: “Is it a part-time job with Pei Siyue?”
Ruan Shuyang: “Senior, you’re so sharp. How did you guess?”
Chi Ye: “…”
There was no need to guess.
The only one who could offer better terms than him was Pei Siyue—no one else came to mind.
He recalled how every time he saw Pei Siyue, the other man radiated an enigma’s intense aggression—those icy eyes, the unmasked sharpness and predatory aura. He couldn’t help but warn: Being around Pei Siyue might be dangerous. Try not to get too close to an enigma.
Ruan Shuyang disliked others speaking ill of Pei Siyue, for he believed Pei Siyue was exceptional—never having met anyone more mature, rational, and gentle. He felt slightly annoyed.
But considering Chi Ye’s kindness toward him, even helping him vent against Ruan Qi, he thought the other might be misunderstanding something. He replied: He’s a good person, senior. You needn’t worry.
Ruan Shuyang: I’ll handle my own affairs.
Chi Ye closed his eyes briefly, finding online communication utterly inefficient. He switched topics: “Even if you end up working for Pei Siyue, it’s fine. You’re welcome to visit our club often. After the semester starts, you’ll have the chance to choose clubs—you can join ours early.”
Ruan Shuyang found this incredibly appealing. He loved the atmosphere of Chi Ye’s club. Remembering Pei Siyue’s permission to socialize, he agreed: “Sure, senior. I’ll be there.”
Not long after chatting with Chi Ye, Jiang Wu came to find Ruan Shuyang, assigning him a desk and office supplies. To his surprise, his workstation was actually inside Pei Siyue’s office.
…Is this appropriate?
Ruan Shuyang vaguely recalled that top executives usually had their own private offices.
Watching Jiang Wu arrange things inside Pei Siyue’s office, he whispered, “Secretary Jiang, isn’t this a bit awkward?”
Jiang Wu replied, “If Mr. Pei says it’s fine, then it’s fine.”
Ruan Shuyang frowned. “Won’t it disturb him while he’s working?”
Truthfully, Jiang Wu believed it absolutely would. No one could maintain focus when faced with such a tempting little omega—distractions were inevitable.
He wanted to tease him, to provoke him, to do things he dared not even imagine—those scandalous, soap-opera-worthy acts forbidden on screen.
But Jiang Wu dared not speak his mind, fearing Pei Siyue would exile him to Africa for aid projects.
“Mr. Pei is highly efficient,” Jiang Wu reassured him. “You needn’t worry. Besides, your workstations are actually separated.”
Ruan Shuyang walked over to the nearly finished workstation and saw it was indeed partitioned off.
His space was cleverly designed—a corner office with massive floor-to-ceiling windows and its own private door. The area that had originally connected to Pei Siyue’s desk was now separated by greenery and a screen, making him invisible unless one walked around the plants and partition.
Ruan Shuyang breathed a sigh of relief. This setup seemed unlikely to cause much disruption.
Jiang Wu promptly placed the computer tablet and other office supplies on his desk, instructing him on how to use Ruiji’s internal office software.
When Pei Siyue returned from his meeting, Ruan Shuyang had already mastered the internal software. With his name tag in place, he looked every bit the part of a proper summer intern—though his youthful appearance and demeanor still betrayed his age.
Ruan Shuyang was studying the Rui Ji office software when he noticed Pei Siyue standing in the doorway. Turning his head from the computer, he saw the other man looking at him. Pei Siyue gave an embarrassed tongue-out and a smile.
Seeing this, Pei Siyue didn’t disturb him. He simply said, “I’m heading to the lab. If you need anything, you can find me there.”
Ruan Shuyang obediently replied, “Okay.”
But inwardly, he resolved not to disturb him unless absolutely necessary.
Little did he expect that work would come knocking sooner than expected.
At six in the evening, Jiang Wu approached him: “Mr. Pei might be so busy in the lab he forgot the time. You need to go remind him.”
Ruan Shuyang recalled this was part of his personal assistant’s duties and promptly agreed, “Understood.”
After confirming the lab’s location, he made his way there on foot.
Walking through the building, he gradually took in other areas he hadn’t seen before.
When he arrived earlier, Jiang Wu had led him straight to the top floor, leaving no chance to see elsewhere. Now, heading to the lab on his own, he passed through many parts of the company.
Rui Ji’s interior resembled the office buildings he’d seen online: rows of white industrial-style desks, semi-transparent frosted glass partitions, and bright, cold white fluorescent lights.
Most employees wore professional suits. Perhaps because it was a multinational corporation, he occasionally heard them address each other by English names.
It seemed he had genuinely landed a summer internship at a renowned corporation, Ruan Shuyang mused vaguely.
Though he might just be one of those legendary connections-based hires.
He reached the lab door, which was closed. Swiping his employee badge, it slid open.
Inside, several people stood fully clad in protective gear. His eyes immediately locked onto Pei Siyue.
Pei Siyue wore a white lab coat, topped with a sterile cap, mask, gloves, and goggles.
Even though he was dressed exactly like everyone else in the lab, Ruan Shuyang recognized him instantly.
Pei Siyue was tall and straight-backed, standing with perfect posture. His powerful presence was impossible to ignore, like a spotlight in the crowd that drew everyone’s gaze.
A striking sight.
Ruan Shuyang watched for a moment, his heartbeat quickening involuntarily.
Pei Siyue in a lab coat was truly handsome.
Ruan Shuyang stood frozen in place until someone passed by, snapping him back to reality.
He slowly approached Pei Siyue, waiting for a moment when he wasn’t handling the lab equipment. Hesitantly, he whispered a reminder: “Mr. Pei, it’s time for dinner.”
Pei Siyue’s gaze remained fixed on the instrument’s screen. Calmly, he said to Ruan Shuyang, “Say it again.”
“Say it again”? Did that mean he shouldn’t call him “Mr. Pei”?
What should he call him then?
He was troubled, trying again: “Dr. Pei, it’s time for dinner.”
He’d heard someone address Pei Siyue that way earlier.
Pei Siyue still didn’t look at him. “Say it again.”
Huh?
Ruan Shuyang was stumped. Why did he have to call him again?
A moment later, Pei Siyue lifted his gaze from the equipment. Seeing Ruan Shuyang’s confused and slightly aggrieved expression, he kindly prompted, “How did you address me before?”
After speaking, he unsurprisingly watched Ruan Shuyang’s face flush.
“I, I…”
Could he really use that kind of address at work? Wouldn’t it be inappropriate?
But under Pei Siyue’s calm gaze, he still whispered softly, “Brother. Big Brother.”
“Understood.” Pei Siyue replied slowly and deliberately. “We’ll go in fifteen minutes.”
“Okay.”
After responding, Ruan Shuyang stood there uncertainly, unsure if he should leave. His face betrayed the nervousness of a workplace newbie.
Pei Siyue pulled out a chair beside him and gestured for him to sit. “You’re still growing. If you feel hungry, eat first without waiting for me. And don’t listen to Jiang Wu.”
Ruan Shuyang: “I’m not hungry.”
As for whether he should listen to Jiang Wu, he actually felt he should.
Because based on the workplace survival rules he’d researched before, one should heed those of higher rank. Jiang Wu was a secretary, so her position should be higher than an assistant’s, right?
Pei Siyue turned from the instrument screen to look at Ruan Shuyang. His gloved hand rested on the back of Ruan’s chair as he leaned down to gaze at the boy’s obediently stiff expression. “You only need to listen to me,” he stated bluntly.
“Uh, is that… really?” Ruan Shuyang stammered. “Only you? Just one person?”
It felt so strange.
“Yes.” Pei Siyue seemed very pleased that he repeated the phrase. “You’re my assistant. Naturally, you only need to listen to me.”
Ruan Shuyang lowered his head, fingers twisting his shirt, puzzled why he felt so nervous and shy doing a summer internship at the company.
Fortunately, fifteen minutes passed quickly. Pei Siyue turned off the equipment, removed his lab coat, goggles, mask, and gloves, washed his hands, then motioned for Ruan Shuyang to follow him out.
By the time they reached the office, Jiang Wu had prepared dinner—Japanese sashimi and sushi.
During the meal, Pei Siyue informed Ruan Shuyang, “Several new research projects are underway. I’ll be spending more time in the lab and clinical trial sites. Sometimes I’ll eat there due to experimental schedules. You don’t need to wait for me.”
For the umpteenth time, Ruan Shuyang marveled at how impressive Pei Siyue was. “Do you still participate in new project development?”
“Only on extremely rare occasions,” Pei Siyue replied. “I want to accelerate the development process.”
Ruan Shuyang was curious. “What kind of projects are they?”
He paused, remembering his confidentiality agreement, and quickly added, “If it involves classified information, I can’t discuss it.”
“Nothing classified,” Pei Siyue shook his head, explaining one project to Ruan Shuyang: “One drug helps Omegas who’ve undergone marking removal surgery restore their glands and reproductive tracts. This significantly reduces the physical damage from the surgery, preventing it from shortening their lifespan.”
With current medical technology, Omegas bearing permanent markings risk severe bodily harm if they attempt removal. Many who undergo markings removal die prematurely from surgical complications.
His mother, Jiang Ruowan, was just like that.
During her lifetime, Jiang Ruowan was also a doctor. After her divorce, she knew full well the potential complications of the mark removal surgery, yet she resolutely underwent the procedure because she refused to bear Pei Yan’s mark.
After the surgery, Jiang Ruowan’s body became extremely weak. She lived for only about ten more years before passing away. Until her death, she had been researching drugs to treat the aftereffects of the mark removal surgery, but unfortunately, she never succeeded. After her death, this research was temporarily shelved until Pei Siyue resumed it.
The mark removal surgery severely damaged an omega’s glands and reproductive tract, drastically lowering overall immunity and leading to death from various infections.
If a drug could repair the damaged glands and reproductive tract, it would significantly reduce post-surgery complications, giving omegas a chance to choose anew.
Currently, this drug is nearing Phase III clinical trials and is recruiting volunteers.
Ruan Shuyang stared at Pei Siyue in shock, his eyes unconsciously reddening.
If the side effects of the Marking Removal Surgery weren’t so severe, Yu Xianbo could have undergone the procedure back then. Would he have been controlled by Ruan Jianchuan for so long?
If this drug had existed back then…
Pei Siyue, standing at the pinnacle of the pyramid as an enigma, could have ignored the fragile omegas’ survival. Yet he persistently devoted himself to developing various solutions to aid them.
Tears slowly fell from his eyes, splattering onto the table and spreading into blurred circles.
Pei Siyue set down his chopsticks, pulled Ruan Shuyang onto his lap, and helplessly reached for tissues to wipe away his tears. “I was just telling you about the research progress,” he sighed. “Why are you crying?”
Ruan Shuyang choked out, “With this medicine, more omegas can get help and won’t be trapped by lifelong markings. You’re so kind to develop this drug for omegas.”
“Don’t think too highly of me,” Pei Siyue said calmly, looking at him. “I’m a businessman too. Business is business. Some drugs are developed for profit.”
Ruan Shuyang shook his head, sniffing back tears. “It’s better someone is doing it than no one. The fact that the drug exists means there’s hope.”
Better than waiting for death after a desperate marking removal surgery.
“Maybe…”
A gentle sadness flickered in Pei Siyue’s expression.
If only this drug had been developed sooner… Would Jiang Ruowan still be alive now?
But the world had no room for “what ifs.”
“Alright, stop crying.” Pei Siyue pulled out another tissue to wipe Ruan Shuyang’s nose, coaxing him like a child. “You’ve cried out all your snot.”
Ruan Shuyang, lost in his sorrow, flushed bright red—all the way to his neck—when he realized what Pei Siyue had just done. He couldn’t cry anymore.
Why was Pei Siyue wiping his nose?
How embarrassing.
He slid off Pei Siyue’s lap and stood a little farther away, trying to distance himself.
“I… I didn’t mean to.”
“I know.” Pei Siyue calmly observed the child who turned his back on him after wiping his nose. “The eyes, ears, mouth, and nose are interconnected. When you cry, the lacrimal glands secrete large amounts of tears. Some of these flow through the nasolacrimal duct into the nasal cavity, mixing with nasal mucus to form snot.”[1]
Ruan Shuyang: “…”
Waaah, why did he have to explain it all over again? Reinforcing the memory, making him acutely aware of just how embarrassing he’d been.
After dinner, Pei Siyue grabbed his car keys, ready to take Ruan Shuyang home. When he was with Ruan Shuyang, he usually disliked being disturbed—he didn’t even use a driver.
But just as they were about to leave, an unexpected turn of events occurred.
Ruan Shuyang blinked, slowly recalling Pei Siyue’s earlier suggestion about moving in together.
He wasn’t sure how to respond.
He wasn’t good at refusing others, especially someone who treated him so well.
“I, I…”
Pei Siyue looked down at him, his tone calm. “Just say what you need to say.”
Even though Pei Siyue’s tone wasn’t harsh at all, Ruan Shuyang still felt nervous. He stammered, “Well, I wanted to go home today…”
“Hmm, and?”
“Then, I can collect my summer job wages and rent my own place. That way I won’t be bothering you.”
Staying at Pei Siyue’s place was undoubtedly inconvenient for him, especially since Ruan Shuyang sensed Pei Siyue didn’t seem to enjoy having others around. Every time he visited, the spacious house felt cold, empty, and desolate.
Pei Siyue nearly laughed in exasperation. He’d given him the summer job pay precisely so he could live more comfortably and have more financial freedom. He never imagined Ruan Shuyang planned to use that money to rent his own place.
Should he have paid him less? Then he wouldn’t be able to afford rent and wouldn’t think about moving out.
“It’s possible,” Pei Siyue reminded him calmly, “but don’t forget the personal assistant needs to drive me to and from work. If we don’t live together, that would be quite inconvenient.”
That made sense.
Ruan Shuyang recalled the job description—it did involve commuting.
“But wouldn’t living together disturb you? Because you seem to prefer living alone, Brother. I’m afraid I’d make noise and disrupt your life.”
“I do prefer living alone,” Pei Siyue admitted without denial. As expected, he saw the troubled expression on Ruan Shuyang’s face. “But I don’t think you moving in would affect my life.”
Confusion filled Ruan Shuyang’s large eyes.
Pei Siyue’s hand rested on the back of Ruan Shuyang’s neck, his fingers lightly brushing the gland patch there. His voice was low and intoxicating.
“An enigma would also want to live with his omega.”
Ruan Shuyang’s eyes widened. An enigma and his omega…
Was Pei Siyue’s omega referring to him?
Besides him, there seemed to be no one else.
But was he truly Pei Siyue’s omega? Could such an intimate description apply to their relationship?
Their connection had started as a purely medical arrangement. How had it evolved into something so intimate?
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