The Beta Wife Claimed by Competing Alphas - Chapter 31

“Where exactly is ‘down there’?”

“Just there. He was actually knocked unconscious by my kick at the time; I only lost consciousness later,” Mu Yan said, his face flushing slightly. Seeing that Shang Qiyue still seemed not to understand, he had to clarify. “It was his crotch.”

Shang Qiyue burst out laughing, and Mu Yan gave an embarrassed smile in return. The two of them let the topic drop.

However, Mu Yan knew that regarding his answer, the man was actually a little disappointed.

Just now, when mentioning hitting someone with a beer bottle, a flicker of excitement and anticipation had flashed through Shang Qiyue’s eyes. Although it was fleeting, Mu Yan had noticed it.

That look made him a little afraid.

In essence, Shang Qiyue and the rowdy congressman’s son were the same kind of people. He also enjoyed everything that power brought, the privilege of being above ordinary people. The only difference was that Shang Qiyue was more restrained, more of a gentleman, and required a “justifiable” reason before exerting his dominance.

It was impossible for Mu Yan not to be afraid.

“Sir, would you like tomato-stewed beef again today? There might not be much fresh produce left at the wet market, but my colleague said I could go to the supermarket. They have fresh vegetables at this hour too.”

“You’re injured like this, and you’re still thinking about cooking for me?”

Mu Yan simply followed up: “Do you want to eat it, Sir?”

“I don’t want to eat it today, but I might in a few days. Is that okay? You should rest well today after everything that happened. I’ll take you out to eat.”

Mu Yan nodded. Shang Qiyue helped him up from the bed.

“Since you don’t like French food, I’ll take you for Huaiyang cuisine. A friend of mine opened a nice restaurant; I don’t need a reservation.”

Mu Yan had not eaten lunch and was starving. Shang Qiyue did not dawdle; he called Ren Chenzhou to book a private room and took Mu Yan straight to the restaurant.

Despite being in the city center, the restaurant was quiet and elegant, a secluded gem amidst the hustle and bustle. The chef was hired by Ren Chenzhou from the region for a high price, and his “White-Robed Shrimp” and “Crab Roe Lion’s Head Meatballs” were local legends.

Huaiyang cuisine naturally suited the palate of someone from City A. Before the dishes were even halfway served, Mu Yan had already finished a bowl of rice.

Shang Qiyue ordered the signature dishes he was used to. Since there was nothing new for him, he did not eat much, but seeing Mu Yan eating so happily, he knew he had made the right choice.

He signaled for a second bowl of rice. Seeing this, Mu Yan’s appetite actually was not small; he simply had not been used to French food. “Did you not eat your fill at all that day?”

“I did eat my fill, Sir. It’s just that I didn’t have lunch today, so I’m a bit hungry. These meatballs are delicious, so I ate a bit more.”

Shang Qiyue called the waiter and added another serving of Crab Roe Lion’s Head Meatballs.

“No need, Sir,” Mu Yan hurriedly tried to stop him. He had seen the menu when Shang Qiyue was ordering; there were no prices listed, which usually meant the actual cost was an astronomical figure. “I’m almost full; I can’t finish a second serving.”

The waiter looked at Shang Qiyue. People in the service industry could always accurately judge who the real decision-maker was.

“Just bring it,” Shang Qiyue said with a slight nod. “If you can’t finish it, leave it. It’s rare to find a dish you like. It’s a pity this place doesn’t deliver, otherwise I could order it for you every day.”

The second plate of meatballs arrived. Despite saying he was full, Mu Yan still managed to finish more than half of it.

When he was finally finished, he realized Shang Qiyue had long since put down his chopsticks and had been watching him for quite a while. Mu Yan was not used to such a gaze; he lowered his eyes to look at his plate. “Sir, I’m full too.”

Shang Qiyue naturally reached out to support him like a true gentleman: “Let’s go then.”

The waiter saw them to the door, saying her goodbyes. Mu Yan felt awkward under the attention, so Shang Qiyue looked back and shook his head at the waiter, who discreetly stepped away.

As Shang Qiyue drove, he chatted casually with Mu Yan. He appeared cold, but he could be quite talkative when necessary; he never ran out of things to say, even with someone like Mu Yan whose life experiences were so different.

The Rolls-Royce Phantom sped through the city, leaving car after car behind. The scenery outside changed so rapidly that Mu Yan’s eyes soon grew tired, and he stopped staring out the window.

“If you liked that place, we can come back more often. Their ‘Soft-Pocket Long-Eared Eel’ is also good. Or, when you have time, I can take you to the region to try the authentic stuff. Huaiyang cuisine in City A always seems to be missing something.”

After a long silence, Mu Yan gave a soft “Mm,” his voice trailing off into a hum that sounded completely different from his usual way of speaking.

Shang Qiyue glanced out of the corner of his eye; Mu Yan had fallen asleep, his eyelashes casting a thick shadow on his face. He must have been exhausted. His body was slightly curled up, perhaps the injury made him physically weak and prone to feeling cold.

Shang Qiyue turned up the air conditioning.

Mu Yan slept deeply. Even when the car reached the underground garage, he showed no signs of waking up. Shang Qiyue reached into the backseat for a blanket, opened the passenger door, and draped it over Mu Yan. Then, hooking his arms under Mu Yan’s armpits and knees, he carried him, blanket and all, out of the car.

He pulled the blanket up a bit. Half of Mu Yan’s face was buried in it; even from Shang Qiyue’s angle, he could only see the closed eyes and the thick, fine eyelashes. Although the privacy of the flat was excellent, being one unit per elevator, there was no chance of being seen.

He carried Mu Yan into the elevator. He thought he felt the fuzzy head in his arms nuzzle against his chest. Shang Qiyue pressed the elevator button.

This time, it was not an illusion. Mu Yan likely felt too warm; his head nuzzled unconsciously, seemingly trying to shake off the blanket that made him feel a bit stifled. The blanket slipped down a fraction, revealing the tip of his nose.

Shang Qiyue carried him into the master bedroom. Even if they did not have sex, he felt a strange impulse today; he wanted to sleep while holding Mu Yan.

Alphas are creatures far too easily controlled by pheromones.

He pulled back the covers, intending to place Mu Yan on the bed, but then realized he probably should wake him up. While a “gentle gentleman” persona can be faked, a young master certainly would not know how to serve someone by undressing them and helping them wash up.

But just as he was about to let go, Mu Yan, whether awake or dazed, wrapped his arms around Shang Qiyue’s neck.

There was an itch at his throat; Mu Yan had nuzzled his neck again.

A sleep-dazed Mu Yan was entirely different from his usual self. Because he had been slightly overheated by the car’s heater and the blanket, his face was flushed. He was acting clingy and spoiled, stubbornly refusing to let Shang Qiyue let go.

Like a clingy puppy.

Shang Qiyue leaned down and kissed his forehead, then his flushed cheeks. Mu Yan, like a puppy being stroked the right way, let out a comfortable hum. His head tilted back unconsciously, as if expecting a real kiss to land on his lips.

But Shang Qiyue’s face instantly turned cold.

Mu Yan was usually so cautious, respectful, and fearful in front of him. Why was he suddenly so clingy and spoiled now?

Who exactly was he trying to act spoiled with?

Shang Qiyue coldly pulled Mu Yan’s hands away from his neck. His movements were far from gentle, and Mu Yan snapped awake instantly.

Mu Yan opened his eyes. In the next second, he saw Shang Qiyue’s cold expression. Shang Qiyue’s features were naturally sharp and hard; when he did not smile, he inspired an instinctive sense of dread.

More importantly, right now, he looked genuinely displeased.

“Sir, what’s wrong? I accidentally fell asleep. Are you angry?”

Mu Yan looked up at his expression cautiously, but Shang Qiyue’s face grew even more grim.

“I won’t do it next time,” Mu Yan said haltingly. “Please don’t be angry.”

Shang Qiyue looked at him with an indifferent gaze. “I’m not angry.”

Only then did Mu Yan realize he was in what seemed to be Shang Qiyue’s master bedroom. This flat had one master bedroom and two second bedrooms; Mu Yan usually stayed in the south-facing second bedroom. He had moved in less than a week ago, and since the decor styles were very similar, he had not noticed immediately.

“Do you want to do it?” Mu Yan asked carefully.

President Shang had scolded him once before because he had misunderstood. But if he did not want to do “that thing,” why would he bring him to his own room?

“No,” Shang Qiyue finally spoke. “I went to the wrong room.”

“Since you’re awake, go wash up, change, and go to sleep yourself.”

Mu Yan nodded. Afraid of making Shang Qiyue dislike him, he quickly scrambled off the bed and walked to the door. He hesitated, finally looking back at Shang Qiyue before closing the door. “Today, I’ve troubled you again.”

“It’s a small matter,” Shang Qiyue replied.

His expression was displeased, clearly indicating he did not want to say anything more.

Mu Yan wanted to ask why he was unhappy, but he was afraid of making him even angrier while he was in a bad mood. He could only close the master bedroom door softly. After washing up, he lay down in his own room.

Why is President Shang angry?

Was it because he accidentally fell asleep in the car? But if it was because of that, why had he not woken him up the moment he fell asleep, instead of carrying him up and then being so upset?

Mu Yan knew he was not exactly a likable person. He was dull, slow, and did not know how to speak; even when he tried to flatter someone, it felt forced. If he were a young and successful man, this might be called “personality,” but on him, it was just the reason people did not like him.

Mu Yan belatedly felt his wound throbbing. He turned onto his side.

Maybe it was not because of him. Perhaps Shang Qiyue had encountered some trouble at work that suddenly put him in a bad mood. Otherwise, given their relationship, why would Shang Qiyue suppress his anger? Shang Qiyue had spent money on him; if he were unhappy because of Mu Yan, why would he bother considering Mu Yan’s feelings?

But when he had woken up on Shang Qiyue’s bed just now, the way the man looked at him was indeed terrifying.

The duvet here was very soft and comfortable. Mu Yan pulled it over his head, curling his body up; this position made him feel more secure.

The flat was actually very large and well-lit, not dark and damp like the place he used to rent. But perhaps he was just too fussy to enjoy good fortune; Mu Yan always felt that this place made him feel very insecure.

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