After the Corporate Slave Beta and the Top Alpha Married - Chapter 6

Ji Yu took the contract with him onto public transportation. The long, dragon-like light rail train shuttled through the city’s tracks. Outside the transparent windows, buildings interspersed with greenery flashed past his eyes.

He was dressed casually in a simple T-shirt and trousers. One hand gripped the overhead handle of the train, the veins on the back of his hand bulging slightly from the effort. He gazed absently at the scenery outside, while his other hand held a black briefcase.

The youthful energy of his casual outfit was ruthlessly stripped away by the briefcase; anyone seeing him on the light rail would only think he was a lucky-less corporate slave called into work at the office on a weekend. And inside the mind of this corporate slave staring blankly out the window, he was likely cursing his boss in twenty different tones.

This was normal. Everyone who has worked has mastered at least twenty ways to complain about their boss without letting a single trace show on their face. Even if you’ve only worked for a month, you can learn this skill without a teacher.

In reality, Ji Yu’s mind was blank.

The bag contained a contract that would make most people ecstatic and restless, and Ji Yu’s heart was far from calm. But as he traveled through the city on the light rail, standing by the window and watching the familiar scenes of the city flash by, his agitated heart slowly quieted down.

He was thinking about when he could finally leave this place.

Collaborating with Shang Yuanzhou was a great opportunity—it would allow him to cast off everything and leave without a care.

…His birth had not been anticipated.

He was born at a time when his parents’ feelings had dissipated into mutual loathing, yet they were forced to mate because of the Omega’s heat. From the moment he understood things, he was used to being ignored in this family. After realizing the difference between the names Ji Bohan, Ji Hexuan, and Ji Yu (meaning ‘surplus/remnant’), he became even more taciturn.

In this society, the second gender is not predestined by parents; everything is determined by differentiation. It’s just that children born to an AO union indeed have a higher probability of differentiating into an Alpha or Omega.

After he differentiated into a Beta, his parents loathed him even more, and his two brothers looked at him with even more disdain. Only Ji Yu was happy.

He wasn’t kind enough to let go of the memory of his younger self, not even as tall as a table, tugging at everyone’s sleeves just wanting them to speak to him, only to be shoved away in disgust and met with cold indifference time and again.

But he wasn’t heartless enough to view his mother’s pain in giving birth to him and the money the Ji family spent to raise him as a given.

Ultimately, he was just an ordinary person. So, he wanted to leave behind a sum of money and then go abroad.

The announcement for the train stop snapped Ji Yu out of his messy thoughts. He retracted his hand from the handle and stepped off as the doors opened.

Ji Yu’s rented apartment was quite a distance from the light rail station, but his time with Shang Yuanzhou at the café had been short, and it was only a little after four in the afternoon. He checked the time on his phone and decided to walk back.

Summer weather is always scorching. Even after the peak afternoon heat has passed, the waves of heat hitting you outside the station make you want to step back. Walking along the road, the sound of cicadas from nowhere only adds to the restlessness. Because it was Saturday afternoon—a time for students and workers to rest—there weren’t many people on the street.

Ji Yu didn’t walk fast, but he still felt the heat. Since taking a taxi for this distance wasn’t cost-effective, he furrowed his brow and endured the heat as he walked forward.

As pedestrians hurried past, Ji Yu inexplicably thought of Shang Yuanzhou, whom he had parted with at the café.

The next moment, he laughed.

Who was Shang Yuanzhou? Even if his position as head of the family was unstable, he wouldn’t be running around the streets in a suit during the height of summer.

If Ji Yu’s departure from the café involved the public light rail and a one-kilometer walk, then Shang Yuanzhou would have stepped into a Cayenne that had been waiting at the door. If there were a place a car couldn’t reach, someone would respectfully hold an umbrella for him to block out the sun.

Ji Yu shook his head to push these strange thoughts away and turned into a roadside dessert shop.

The small cakes in the refrigerated display were exquisite and compact, adorned with mint leaves like green bows, making them look like a collection of gifts waiting to be chosen. Ji Yu stood before the glass with a serious expression, looking as if he were deep in some major contemplation.

“I’ll take a Tiramisu, thank you.”

The clerk, wearing a pink baking hat, took the Tiramisu out. As she packed it, she smiled at Ji Yu and asked, “Is the gentleman buying this for a girlfriend?”

Few men enjoy sweets, and the Ji Yu before her didn’t look like a male Omega, so the clerk naturally misunderstood. “Would you like to take a strawberry pie for her too? It’s our new release. Sour, sweet, and icy cold—she’ll definitely love it.”

Ji Yu pursed his lips and shook his head in refusal. He didn’t correct her, simply taking the packed Tiramisu. “No need, thank you.”

Back home, Ji Yu ate the Tiramisu while carefully reading the contract.

His movements while eating were very cherished; he used the spoon to dig out small bites and would purse his lips against the plastic spoon, the corners of his mouth curving slightly. He looked like a little hamster eating hard-won food—unexpectedly cute.

The small Tiramisu was quickly polished off, and the expression on Ji Yu’s face as he flipped through the contract grew increasingly hesitant.

Behind the high compensation were, naturally, the obligations he had to fulfill. While called a “collaboration,” in essence, Shang Yuanzhou was hiring him to act in a play. Ji Yu was confident he could follow the clauses about staying out of Shang Yuanzhou’s private life, but performing intimacy and love in front of outsiders…

Ji Yu’s refined brows knit together; he was quite troubled. He was used to keeping his distance; just the thought of acting “lovey-dovey” felt difficult.

If I mess up the acting, will he make me pay a penalty? It doesn’t say here… And how do you define the level of intimacy needed? Hand-holding, hugging… or what?

There was also a clause about cohabitation during the contract period, which made Ji Yu frown. He instinctively resisted living under the same roof with another person. He let out a sigh and simply put the contract away, deciding not to think about it for now, turning instead to the work he hadn’t finished on Friday night.

Time flew by as he cross-referenced data. Ji Yu, who had finished work with a foggy head and crawled into bed, was woken up the next morning by his ringtone. He reached groggily for the phone on the nightstand. Seeing the caller ID, his sleepiness faded a bit. “Brother.”

Ji Bohan’s voice came through the phone, sounding jubilant. “Ji Yu, get yourself cleaned up. Remember Zeng Chen’an from the Zeng family, the one you talked to at the party?”

“He seems interested in you and is willing to give you a chance. I’ve pushed his GreenChat (WeChat) to you. Arrange a lunch with him today and perform well.”

“Taking you to that party was just a trial run. After all, everyone there is out of our reach. I didn’t expect it, didn’t expect it! Go to the ‘Shuiyun Pavilion’ and get a makeover; just give them my name.”

Ji Yu stared at the ceiling, listening to the stream of words from Ji Bohan. Each sentence felt like it was being balled up by an invisible hand and forced into his body—it grew more oppressive and stifling.

“Brother, I don’t want to go. I’m not interested in that person.”

The voice on the other end stopped. After a moment of silence, Ji Bohan snapped: “Ji Yu, who do you think you are?”

“The family raised you, so you must contribute to the family. If someone takes an interest in you, you must seize the opportunity. This noon, obediently ask him out for lunch. Don’t do anything that makes us all unhappy.”

Ji Yu wanted to laugh, and even more, he wanted to say that the feudal empire died long ago; this wasn’t the damn time for treating people as objects for family alliances. Aside from food, clothes, and schooling, he hadn’t taken anything from the Ji family. The Ji family only owned a small, broken company; to put it bluntly, they were all just ordinary people.

The words stuck in his throat and he swallowed them back down. Ji Yu said nothing but a soft “Mm” before hanging up.

He got up, washed his face, and brushed his teeth. He put on the clothes he wore yesterday and headed out with messy hair—after all, someone else would be styling him, so what he wore wasn’t his choice anyway. No one in the family cared about him; he called Ji Bohan “Brother,” but Ji Bohan only saw him as an object with the Ji family label on it.

On the way to Shuiyun Pavilion, Ji Yu added the contact info for Zeng Chen’an. The other party readily agreed to the lunch invitation. Ji Yu looked at the message—”Sure, where should we meet?”—and forwarded the location Ji Bohan had pre-booked.

Hair wax was applied, and a well-tailored suit was draped over Ji Yu. He was even sprayed with a perfume he couldn’t name, which smelled slightly of fruit and wood. It was pleasant, but Ji Yu didn’t like it.

There’s truth to the saying that clothes make the man. The ordinary-looking Ji Yu was transformed by the stylist and the new hair into someone who looked quite handsome and upright. Carried along by this outfit, he walked into the exquisitely decorated restaurant.

Not long after Ji Yu sat down, Zeng Chen’an—whom he had met at the party—walked over, led by a waiter. Upon sitting down, he gave Ji Yu a dimpled smile. “Sorry, I’m late. You haven’t been waiting long, have you?”

Ji Yu: “No, I just arrived as well.”

Zeng Chen’an: “Ah, that’s good.”

Ji Yu was silent. He was clumsy in social interactions and had never experienced something like this; he didn’t know what to say. He stayed silent, and the other side was silent too. A moment later, Zeng Chen’an suddenly laughed, shallow dimples appearing on his face. “This feels a bit strange.”

“It’s my first time, um…” He paused. “This counts as a blind date, right? Ha, I have no experience with blind dates. Sorry, sorry.”

Ji Yu also managed a small smile. “It’s my first blind date too. It does feel a bit odd.”

Zeng Chen’an: “I wouldn’t have come if my family hadn’t been nagging. My parents are constantly in my ear, asking when I’m going to date and get married.”

Compared to Ji Yu, he was more outgoing and quite a bit cuter. Influenced by him, Ji Yu relaxed a bit. Looking at the dishes being served and listening to Zeng Chen’an’s quiet complaints, Ji Yu thought to himself: Maybe it could work…

Zeng Chen’an: “By the way, I heard you just returned to A-City? Did you attend high school here?”

Ji Yu snapped back to reality. “I did. Berlin High.”

The other man’s eyes seemed to light up; he spoke with surprise. “Is that so? I studied there too! Do you remember that crooked-neck tree by the sports field?”

Ji Yu remembered that tree. It was very low, crooked right from the trunk, just high enough for two people to sit on.

“I used to love climbing up there in the summer to hide in the shade. When I went back to school recently, I saw the tree had been removed. It’s such a pity.” Zeng Chen’an’s expression was full of regret.

Ji Yu thought about it and agreed, “That is quite a pity.”

Zeng Chen’an: “By the way, which class were you in?”

It was a simple question, but if he had been asked before the reunion, Ji Yu would have found it hard to remember. “Class Eight. You?”

Zeng Chen’an: “Oh, I was in Class Seventeen.” He took a sip of decanted wine and asked with slight hesitation, “Then you were in the same class as… President Shang?”

Ji Yu understood why the man was sitting here. He had only met Shang Yuanzhou privately yesterday, and today someone was already prying.

Ji Yu’s heart was very calm. Even without a Zeng Chen’an coming for Shang Yuanzhou, there would be a Zhang Chen’an, a Wang Chen’an, or a Li Chen’an. The root of the problem wasn’t who he was on a blind date with.

Thinking of the contract he had tucked away, the scales in Ji Yu’s heart began to tilt.

Before Ji Yu could make up his mind, he ran into Shang Yuanzhou three days later in an unexpected place. Specifically, he was caught “eavesdropping” on a conversation between Shang Yuanzhou and another person.

Ji Yu believed he was innocent in this eavesdropping.

After lunch, there was still some time before his nap, so he sat on a bench in the corner of the building behind the company. From here, he could see the distant sports field; the view was open, and there were almost no people. Then, he heard the voices of two people behind him.

Behind him was the emergency exit of a building; few people should be there. As the voices grew louder, Ji Yu was about to leave when he heard another person’s voice rise slightly with anger and mockery.

“Shang Yuanzhou, don’t forget you’re just an illegitimate son.” “Grandfather valued you before, but you were the one who made him unhappy before he died. You were even kicked out and forbidden from living in the old manor.” “And rightfully so. Why should an illegitimate son live with us?”

Ji Yu fell into an awkward predicament. To avoid people from his company during lunch, he had specifically chosen a secluded spot with a wide view. If he left from here, there was a wall to the left and a path to the right—but if he went right, his figure would be seen by the two people in the emergency exit behind him.

If he walked forward to increase the distance, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t be seen. Ji Yu wasn’t clear on the physical capabilities of an Alpha, but he knew they were stronger than Betas and Omegas in every way, including vision. If it were a stranger, it would be fine, but one of them seemed to be Shang Yuanzhou.

He tilted his head and caught a glimpse of a suit jacket. Ji Yu shrunk to the left in fear. No longer in the mood for daydreaming, he began to hope the two would return inside the building after their talk.

But not long after, the sound of footsteps came from behind, followed by: “Ji Yu?”

Hope was shattered.

Ji Yu turned his head with a forced smile, feeling awkward in front of Shang Yuanzhou for the umpteenth time. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop…” Wait… isn’t that a self-exposure? He quickly corrected himself: “I didn’t hear much, really.” Aside from those few sentences when the other person raised his voice, he truly hadn’t heard much clearly.

Only Shang Yuanzhou walked out of the emergency exit. The person talking to him must have walked back into the building and left through the other side.

A look of surprise crossed Shang Yuanzhou’s handsome face. Hearing Ji Yu’s explanation, he retracted his expression and said flatly, “It wasn’t anything important anyway. It’s fine even if you heard.”

If it were someone else, they would likely follow up with a question or show a bit of concern for Shang Yuanzhou, but Ji Yu asked nothing.

As the two fell into silence, Shang Yuanzhou spoke first: “What are you doing here?”

Ji Yu: “I work in the building next door. And you, President Shang?”

Shang Yuanzhou: “I’m here to discuss a contract.”

There were many companies of all sizes in this area. Ji Yu didn’t think much of it. Seeing they were about to fall into silence again, he pretended to check the time and said to Shang Yuanzhou, “Then, President Shang, I’ll be heading off first? My lunch break is about to end.”

“Ji Yu,” Shang Yuanzhou called out, “How have you considered the matter of the collaboration?”

Ji Yu stopped and turned to look at him. Shang Yuanzhou stood there, meeting his gaze with a calm expression. There was some distance between them, and as the sunlight poured down, the shadow beneath Shang Yuanzhou’s feet seemed like a thick, dark swamp, covering Ji Yu’s own shadow.

Ji Yu spoke with hesitation: “I want to know, in that contract… the intimacy I need to cooperate with, to what degree must it go?”

Shang Yuanzhou thought for a moment and said, “You’re about to start work. How about we talk in detail when you’re free? How about Saturday?”

Ji Yu hesitated. His moment of hesitation was brief, yet Shang Yuanzhou felt time move exceptionally slowly at that moment. The blood in his body seemed to freeze, and his heart pounded violently for survival like it lacked blood flow, bringing waves of dull pain to his chest.

Like a prisoner awaiting sentencing.

The expression on Shang Yuanzhou’s face remained calm, but his Adam’s apple bobbed once. He couldn’t help but speak: “Well?”

This kind of questioning was unlike him, but the person before him was Ji Yu.

Ji Yu didn’t hesitate further and gave an affirmative answer. “Alright, let’s meet on Saturday. If it’s suitable, I’ll sign the contract.”

Shang Yuanzhou smiled. “Good. Go to work first. I’ll stay here for some air before leaving.”

He watched Ji Yu’s figure grow smaller and smaller in his vision until he turned into another building and disappeared. Shang Yuanzhou’s mouth curled up enigmatically. “You’re an adult now, yet you still love hiding in corners.”

This sentence was destined to be unheard.

Shang Yuanzhou turned to leave. His tall, upright figure in the suit made him look exactly like someone who had just finished a contract negotiation and was returning satisfied. And he was indeed here for a contract.

At the other exit, Shang Yuanchen, who had been waiting for a long time, spoke up excitedly after Shang Yuanzhou got into the car: “How was it? My performance wasn’t bad, right?”

“The news that you met someone privately at a café a few days ago has spread everywhere. Tsk, it seems someone has already gone to test the waters under the guise of an alliance. Those two even chatted at the party.”

If those people didn’t know what Shang Yuanzhou was thinking and actually hit it off during the testing, he’d have some entertainment to watch. The chance to see Shang Yuanzhou as a joke—he was quite looking forward to it.

Shang Yuanchen didn’t dare say that out loud. But he found Shang Yuanzhou’s reaction very calm. He was stunned for a moment, then realized belatedly: “You did it on purpose?”

He should have realized. Without Shang Yuanzhou’s tacit permission, who would dare leak this man’s whereabouts?

Shang Yuanzhou sat in the back seat. He neither answered nor denied it, saying instead: “Why haven’t you left yet?”

Shang Yuanchen said with a grin, “I sent your driver away. I have to drive you, President Shang.”

“Speaking of which, isn’t that just a Beta? Is he worth this much effort?” He grew more excited as he spoke: “I heard that back in high school when your differentiation failed, someone in your class wanted that little Beta to mock you for being worse than a Beta. The little Beta refused.”

“Tsk tsk, you couldn’t have been moved by that and fallen irredeemably in love with him, could you?” Shang Yuanchen laughed with an exaggerated tone. “Well, that little Beta did turn down a full 50,000 yuan for you!”

Suddenly, his laughter jammed in his throat. His eyes met Shang Yuanzhou’s in the rearview mirror. Shang Yuanzhou gave him a flat look. “Do you think I’m the type of person who is moved by such things?”

Shang Yuanchen didn’t speak, but the answer surfaced instantly in his heart. Absolutely not.

He had seen Shang Yuanzhou’s style—meticulous, decisive, ruthless. In just five years, he had firmly taken control of the Shang family; no one dared to question any decision he made. Those who had tried to sabotage him were currently in some corner of a mine, unable to leave.

Shang Yuanzhou looked at Shang Yuanchen thoughtfully. Naturally, he didn’t like Ji Yu for such a ridiculous reason as being “moved.” However…

Shang Yuanchen felt a chill on his back from the gaze. He wanted to speak but didn’t dare. When Shang Yuanzhou was in a good mood, he could make a few jokes, but once Shang Yuanzhou’s attitude shifted, he didn’t dare say another word.

Fortunately, Shang Yuanzhou retracted his gaze before long. Just as Shang Yuanchen relaxed, he heard Shang Yuanzhou’s calm but undeniable voice from behind:

“I don’t like the tone you use when mentioning Ji Yu.”

Shang Yuanchen’s heart tightened instantly. He said seriously: “There won’t be a next time.”