The Corporate Slave Beta Is Surrounded by Alphas - Chapter 11

Song Boyan was standing a bit far away, and Cheng An couldn’t make out his face.

Highly nearsighted people seem to have a peculiar trait once the glasses are gone and they can’t see, even their sense of smell seems to regress. That was exactly the state Cheng An was in.

He sat there blankly, staring with dull, deep grey eyes toward where he thought Song Boyan was. It wasn’t until Song Boyan moved closer that he caught the Alpha’s scent.

Song Boyan placed a paper cup in Cheng An’s hands. It contained a liquid with a faint, medicinal aroma.

“This is a medicinal tea we brew here,” Song Boyan said. “It helps relieve fatigue, clear the eyes, and soothe the mind.”

The tea was warm. Cheng An’s fingers curled around the cup, feeling the heat seep into his skin as the rising steam brushed against his face. He loved holding warm cups for comfort and using the steam to soothe his eyes.

He sat there, clutching the cup in a daze, silent. The warm mist dampened his eyelashes. Without his glasses, he felt unable to move freely, so he remained frozen in that single posture. Even his usual air of indifference and cold professionality had completely vanished.

The glasses really are the ‘main body,’ Song Boyan thought, suppressing a chuckle.

He reached out and brushed away a stray speck of dust from Cheng An’s hair, noting how soft it felt beneath his fingertips—just like a kitten’s fur.

“It was probably crowded earlier; someone must have bumped into you and knocked your glasses away. I’m not sure where they rolled off to, but I’ll find them for you in a moment.”

Cheng An nodded quietly, still holding his cup.

After a long day of work, as the night grew deep and the world fell silent, even this genetically gifted Alpha felt a touch of weariness in the stillness. He sat down quietly beside Cheng An.

Cheng An continued to let the steam warm his face. Without his glasses, he didn’t feel like moving or talking, so he remained silent.

The two of them fell into a tranquil hush. In his slowed state of mind, Cheng An didn’t notice the way Song Boyan was looking at him—a gaze without any barriers, filled with a soft, warm light born from the emotion called affection.

Cheng An felt his eyes relax from the steam and lowered his head to take a sip of the tea. Based on his experience with medicinal brews, he expected something “bitter beyond words,” and had already furrowed his brow in anticipation of a grimace.

Instead, the liquid was cool, refreshing, and carried a delicate tea fragrance. His features immediately softened. Without his bangs or glasses to hide behind, these tiny, fleeting expressions were laid bare.

The room was excessively quiet. Cheng An blinked and turned his head toward Song Boyan. Being severely nearsighted, he leaned in a little closer and squinted. “I feel like you’ve been staring at me. Is there something on my face?”

“There is,” Song Boyan replied.

Cheng An reached up to rub his face haphazardly, only to hear Song Boyan say: “A bit of cuteness.”

“…”

Song Boyan finally let out a soft laugh.

Cheng An was like a stoic little cat usually calm and detached, yet the easiest to tease into showing vivid, adorable reactions.

Cheng An sat back up straight. He was a bit surprised to hear such a “corny” pick-up line from Song Boyan. He had always thought the man was purely formal, elegant, and kind; he hadn’t expected him to have such a playful side.

Feeling the warmth in his fingers, Cheng An shifted his grip so his palms were pressed flat against the cup, trying to soak up as much heat as possible.

“You looked so tired today, coming straight here after work,” Song Boyan said. “Do you have another big project starting?”

Cheng An nodded.

“I remember you’re the Team Leader. Why do I get the feeling you’re doing everything yourself? Don’t you delegate to your team?”

“Because I don’t like mistakes,” Cheng An answered.

His voice was flat as usual, devoid of peaks or valleys. However, because he wasn’t in ‘work mode,’ his speech was a bit slower than usual, giving him a slightly drowsy, rhythmic tone.

“A perfectionist?” Song Boyan asked.

Cheng An thought for a moment. “Probably not. I’m not like this with other things. I just want to do my best with the things I’m responsible for.”

“But won’t that make you too tired?”

Cheng An turned to look at him. “Do you moonlight as a therapist?”

Song Boyan blinked. “I actually am licensed.”

“Then why aren’t you a psychologist?”

“This clinic was passed down by my grandfather. No one else in the family wanted to practice medicine, so I wanted to at least keep his legacy alive,” he said with a smile. “That was my original thought, anyway. But looking back, I think it’s better I’m not a therapist.”

“Why?”

“Because therapists aren’t allowed to develop ‘intimate relationships’ with their patients.”

Cheng An didn’t quite follow how the conversation had arrived here. He blinked, and to keep the talk from dying, he repeated: “Develop intimate relationships?”

“Why did the topic jump there?” Song Boyan echoed with a look of mock confusion.

“I don’t know,” Cheng An said.

Song Boyan laughed. “I think I need to find those glasses quickly. You’re looking quite dazed right now.”

Cheng An lowered his gaze to the cup. The dark tea reflected the overhead lights in a soft, blurry glow.

He heard Song Boyan speak softly: “Actually, I wanted to say that you put too much pressure on yourself. Your body and mind can’t carry it all indefinitely. From what I’ve seen, you have almost no social life. I thought… maybe if you started dating, things would be better.”

In truth, this advice wasn’t particularly useful. Experience often shows that dating doesn’t necessarily lead to happiness; the minutiae of a relationship often come with arguments and cold wars that only lead to more exhaustion.

That he could offer such a suggestion clearly showed his own hidden agenda. Fortunately, this man with his selfish motives hadn’t actually become a full-time psychologist.

The Alpha’s heart was racing as he carefully watched Cheng An’s face for any reaction. But Cheng An’s expression didn’t change at all, as if the idea was something he didn’t care about or hadn’t even considered.

He simply said, “We’ll see.”

Cheng An had a talent for letting things go in one ear and out the other. Unimportant details and idle chatter often vanished from his mind as soon as they were heard. He existed in a state of perpetual calm, with an emotional stability that was almost uncanny.

Song Boyan realized the suggestion hadn’t really sunk in. He felt a bit discouraged. “Never mind. Let me go find your glasses.” He stood up to check the area where Cheng An had been lying earlier.

As Song Boyan walked away, his figure blurred into the surrounding light until he was invisible to Cheng An. Left alone, Cheng An sat obediently. Without his glasses, he looked not just blank, but remarkably well-behaved.

Since he couldn’t do anything else, he sat there waiting for Song Boyan to return his sight to him, taking slow, rhythmic sips of his tea.

Time stretched on. He couldn’t see the clock on the wall clearly enough to tell the time. Once he finished his tea, he decided it was time to leave and that he should throw the disposable cup away.

He saw a blurry black cylindrical shape near the door and assumed it was a trash can. He stood up and walked toward it, only to realize upon getting closer that it was a large flower pot.

Feeling a bit helpless, he turned to walk back when he noticed a familiar figure standing outside the clinic. The lights outside were even more kaleidoscopic and blurry, but from the person’s clothes and mannerisms, Cheng An couldn’t help but ask, “Ji Ting?”

He rubbed his eyes. The halos of light were making his head swim; he felt no different from a blind person right now.

There was no answer at first. Cheng An wondered if he had made a mistake surely Ji Ting wasn’t the only one with brown hair, long bangs, or that persistent air of nervous trepidation…

But a second later, he heard the man’s voice: “It’s me.”

The Alpha walked closer, his silhouette blocking out the scattered light. Only when he was quite near could Cheng An see his face.

The Alpha was very tall. Standing before him, Cheng An had to tilt his head up to see him. Ji Ting slightly lowered his head, his long bangs obscuring his eyes and making his expression hard to read.

However, Cheng An could hear that his breathing was a bit ragged and his cheeks were flushed. “Is something wrong? Did you come here in a hurry because of something urgent?”

Ji Ting gazed into those deep grey, slightly vacant eyes. The vibrant city lights were all gathered within them, reflecting a crystalline, beautiful luster.

He still didn’t speak.

After asking the question, Cheng An realized something. “If you needed me, why didn’t you just call? And… how did you find me? I’ve been here for quite a while since work ended.”

He gave a small, sheepish smile at his own slow realization.

But the answer was simple.

Because he had followed your footsteps through every street and alley. After you entered this clinic, he had been hiding in the shadows, waiting for you to reappear. Now that you are standing before him, he is so excited he can barely contain himself. Looking into your lovely eyes, he wants nothing more than to leave a soft, lingering kiss upon them.

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