After the Corporate Slave Beta and the Top Alpha Married - Chapter 31

“Ji Yu.”

The person who pushed through the crowd to stand before Ji Yu looked at him with an unconcealed, haughty scrutiny. Even though he tried his best to feign a smile, Shang Yuanzhou saw through it instantly.

Shang Yuanzhou didn’t speak, but the air around his brow turned cold. He knew Ji Yu wasn’t on good terms with his two brothers, though he didn’t know the exact details. That didn’t stop Shang Yuanzhou from disliking them just as much. It was one thing not to invite them to the wedding, but for a gala like this, he hadn’t instructed anyone to invite the Ji Hexuan standing before him.

So, who brought him in?

Shang Yuanzhou’s sharp, narrow eyes lifted slightly as he looked toward an assistant standing in a far corner. With just a glance, the assistant silently withdrew.

Ji Yu pursed his lips and offered a low, unenthusiastic greeting: “Brother.”

Ji Hexuan was used to being arrogant in front of him. Even with Shang Yuanzhou present, his tone held a commanding edge: “Big brother has something for me to ask you. Come aside and talk.”

“Since Xiao Yu and I are married, I consider us family. If there’s something to say, you might as well say it to me,” Shang Yuanzhou said. His words were polite, but his tone was icy, every syllable frosted. His pale red eyes rested on Ji Hexuan with zero warmth.

A slight tug came from his wrist it was Ji Yu. “A-Zhou, I want you to stay with me, but there are so many people here waiting for you. Your business is the most important. I’ll just talk to my brother and come right back.”

Ji Yu lowered his voice and leaned into Shang Yuanzhou’s ear, whispering like he was acting out a shy, dependent “Little White Flower” routine. He looked entirely reliant on Shang Yuanzhou, as if the man held absolute control over him, yet the words he spoke drew a sharp, clear line: “This is my family matter, A-Zhou.”

Family matter.

Shang Yuanzhou offered a calm smile. “Go on, then.”

As Ji Yu and Ji Hexuan walked away and vanished from sight, Shang Yuanzhou resumed chatting and laughing with the crowd as if nothing had happened. He swallowed the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, along with the surge of resentment that filled his heart.

Nearby, guests were whispering: “My, President Shang and Mr. Ji really do have a deep bond.” “Exactly. Mr. Ji wanted President Shang to go with him just to talk to his brother. Acting so spoiled they really are in the honeymoon phase.” “President Shang is a top-tier Alpha, after all. Since Mr. Ji is a Beta and can’t be permanently marked, he’s probably clinging tight for fear of some Omega moving in.”

Shang Yuanzhou’s thin lips curled into a smile. “Xiao Yu just can’t bear to be away from me. He even makes a fuss about coming to the office with me. If he doesn’t see me for a while, he loses his temper. I have no choice but to coax him.”

He spoke the beautiful lies so convincingly that it felt like he even believed them himself. Around him, businessmen chimed in with “pretty words,” agreeing that since Ji Yu was a Beta and couldn’t be marked, he naturally lacked a sense of security. Everyone assumed Ji Yu was living in constant trepidation, unable to leave Shang Yuanzhou’s side for fear of his Alpha husband being seduced. Some even started giving Shang Yuanzhou advice on how to make his “Beta little wife” feel more secure.

Shang Yuanzhou held a glass of champagne. The taste was pure and elegant with fruity notes, but he couldn’t savor it. One glass down felt like the taste of his own pheromones bitter, astringent liquor.

The assistant returned. Shang Yuanzhou left the group and moved to a deserted corner.

Assistant: “President Shang, I’ve cleared it up. Mr. Ji’s brother was brought in by the Ding family’s young master, Ding Yi. They entered with their family and then met the brother at the entrance. Since every guest family can bring one or two guests, the staff let them in.”

Shang Yuanzhou’s sharp brows pressed down. “Tell President Ding that he needn’t bring his son to any future occasions.”

This single sentence effectively sealed Ding Yi’s fate; he would likely only be able to marry into a family with a status far lower than the Dings. It was a warning to the Ding family to keep their hands to themselves and not assume that the absence of Ji Yu would lead to a marriage with them.

The assistant noted the instruction. “Do I need to give President Ding a reason?”

“No need,” Shang Yuanzhou scoffed. “He knows exactly why.”

Businessmen are all foxes; would a father not know the petty schemes his son was pulling behind his back?

The assistant left to handle the matter. Shang Yuanzhou stood alone in the secluded area of the resort, a rockery behind him. The jagged, craggy stones felt rough against his palm. He felt a slight sting; looking down, he saw that a sharp protrusion had sliced his hand. Blood was smeared against the greyish-white stone.

It was a small cut. With an Alpha’s physical constitution, it would heal in no time if left alone. Shang Yuanzhou stared at it for a moment, then pressed his hand against the wound to squeeze out more blood. The thick liquid dripped down, staining the faint smear into a terrifyingly vivid mark.

His face remained expressionless, as if he felt no pain. His gaze was focused on the rockery, yet it seemed to pass right through it. The blood-stained stone made him think of Ji Yu in high school rational, free, and longing to fly in the high heavens.

Unwillingness, anger, a craving for possession, for intrusion, even for imprisonment. All the emotions he had suppressed in the crowd now surged forth. The physical pain couldn’t drown out these feelings in the slightest.

He wanted to cage the boy like a bird, to have Ji Yu’s entire existence revolve around him. He wanted to know everything every word said, every conversation had, every detail of his past. The desire was near-pathological. Perhaps he was sick.

Shang Yuanzhou closed his eyes, erasing the image of the youthful Ji Yu in a clean shirt. When he opened them again, the roiling emotions were locked back into the cage of his heart, like a snarling, roaring beast.

He slowly and meticulously wiped the blood from his hand onto his dark suit sleeve. The movement was measured, carrying the elegance of the upper class, yet the act of wiping blood onto his sleeve was remarkably crude a flash of the wild, unpolished background he had carried from the bottom of society.

He was a mass of contradictions and a struggling fusion, much like his own heart. His “little wife” had been away from his side for far too long. It was time to find him.

Talking to others behind husband’s back… how naughty.

Family matters?

By arbitrarily excluding “husband” from the definition of “family,” Ji Yu had committed a transgression Shang Yuanzhou would not permit.

Ji Yu was talking to Ji Hexuan. They stood apart, the distance between them not looking like that of brothers at all. Ji Hexuan didn’t bother hiding his disdain.

“What? Now that you’ve sold yourself for a good price, you don’t recognize your own brother? You don’t answer my calls, you don’t answer Big Brother’s calls… do you even remember your own last name?”

Ji Yu was used to the cynicism. He had long since passed the age where such words would make him sad or angry. “Is there something you want?”

Ji Hexuan: “Now that you’re married to Shang Yuanzhou, it shouldn’t be a problem to ask him for one or two small projects for the Ji family, right? Just a bit of scrap from his table he seems to care about you quite a bit, so he probably wouldn’t mind. It would be simple for you.”

Ji Yu refused without a second thought. “Impossible. If that’s all you have to say, we have nothing more to discuss.”

He turned to leave, but Ji Hexuan’s voice followed him like a haunting demon: “Ji Yu, don’t you forget how Mom died.”

Ji Yu’s hands clenched into tight fists, his clean, rounded nails digging deep into his palms, bringing sharp pain.

Ji Hexuan stood his ground, his tone unapologetically malicious: “Ji Yu, listen to your name . You are the ‘extra’ one in this family. Since the family raised you, you must contribute. I wonder… when Shang Yuanzhou calls you ‘Xiao Yu,’ is he also secretly calling you ‘extra’?”

“I call him ‘Xiao Yu’ because I find him free and lovely, like a precious fish . I didn’t know anyone would think I considered him extra.”

When the cold, temperature-less voice rang out, both Ji Hexuan and Ji Yu were startled. The former by fear, the latter by panic.

Ji Yu didn’t know how much Shang Yuanzhou had heard. He looked at the handsome man emerging from the shadows with trepidation. Shang Yuanzhou stepped in front of him, shielding him. Ji Yu could only see the man’s back broad shoulders, a tall, upright silhouette like a sharp peak piercing the moonlight. Dangerous and sharp, yet Shang Yuanzhou’s shadow covered him like a safe haven beneath a cliff.

Ji Hexuan, however, was forced to face him directly. The moonlight and distant lights cast a boundary of light and shadow across Shang Yuanzhou’s face. His sharp eyes were half-hidden in the dark, and his gaze was so cold that Ji Hexuan took a step back in terror.

It was the look one gives a dead man.

Omegas are beautiful but often fragile; Ji Hexuan was so terrified his teeth were chattering. His arrogance vanished instantly. He felt that the Alpha before him was dangerous smelling of blood, as if he truly had killed before.

“I don’t know how you treated Ji Yu in the past. He doesn’t wish to speak of it, and I respect that,” Shang Yuanzhou said, stepping closer to Ji Hexuan. “But if you repeatedly appear before us to remind me that you were likely very unkind to him, then don’t blame me.”

Ji Hexuan swallowed hard, forcing himself to shout through his fear: “Ji Yu killed our mother! Why should we let him off?!”

Ji Yu’s body went rigid. He wanted to flee. He grabbed Shang Yuanzhou’s arm, his voice trembling: “Let’s go. Let’s go, okay, A-Zhou? I’m begging you.”

Shang Yuanzhou’s expression shifted. For the first time, he forcefully pulled his arm away from Ji Yu’s grasp. Ji Yu stared at his empty palm, stunned. His eyes went red instantly, but when he looked up, his expression turned to panic. “A-Zhou!”

Shang Yuanzhou had grabbed Ji Hexuan by the throat. He lifted him until the man’s feet left the ground, a movement as effortless as picking up a chicken.

“Your mother died when Ji Yu was only ten. And you… you’ve subjected him to over twenty years of cold neglect.” He looked coldly at the flushing, struggling Ji Hexuan. “What, are you trying to say Ji Yu harmed his mother the moment he was born?”

Beside them, Ji Yu froze. The hand he had raised to pull Shang Yuanzhou away went stiff in mid-air.

How… how could Shang Yuanzhou know these things?

Shang Yuanzhou realized he had said too much. He closed his eyes, swallowing the rest of his words. In his intense rage and restraint, his clenched jaw made a terrifying grinding sound. He pressed his thumb against Ji Hexuan’s throat, slowly increasing the pressure, watching the tears of terror leak from the man’s eyes.

“The next time I hear you say something like that…” Shang Yuanzhou’s lips curled into a cruel, ruthless smile. “I will have you sent to a mental asylum. You won’t ever need to come out. A broken brain should be treated, shouldn’t it?”

Ji Hexuan’s face was covered in tears and snot, his eyes wide with a deep, paralyzing horror. As he was throttled and unable to breathe, he felt that Shang Yuanzhou wasn’t just talking about an asylum he felt the man truly meant to kill him. He trembled uncontrollably, thrashing about and nodding frantically, begging for Shang Yuanzhou to let go.