The Corporate Slave Beta Is Surrounded by Alphas - Chapter 14
Cheng An never believed in depriving himself when it came to food. He was diligent and conscientious at work, but once the clock struck the hour, his motto was to be as comfortable as possible.
He existed in two entirely different states: on-duty and off-duty. At work, his face was always a mask of cool gravity and indifference. As a team leader, he maintained this expression, believing it projected authority unaware that his subordinates privately called him the “Cold-Faced Kitten.”
But after work, that protective layer of detachment vanished, replaced by a soft, approachable aura.
In the restaurant, the overhead lights cast a warm, lovely halo around him. As he stared at the menu, his eyelashes fluttered slightly, casting delicate shadows that made him look particularly refined. Song Boyan sat across from him, quietly tracing the lines of Cheng An’s face with his eyes.
Cheng An seemed to be searching for something. His eyes scanned the pages, and when he couldn’t find what he wanted, his pale pink lips parted slightly as if he were mumbling to himself.
Song Boyan leaned in subtly and caught the faint whisper: “Pork belly… pork belly… pork belly…”
Suppressing a laugh, Song Boyan reached out and pointed to a corner of the menu. “It’s right here.”
“Oh, here it is,” Cheng An repeated, his voice trailing off in a dazed, adorable manner.
After Cheng An picked out a few more items and handed the menu back, Song Boyan called for a waiter. A tall figure stepped up to their table, his shadow completely enveloping Cheng An.
Cheng An looked up and saw a familiar face. The waiter seemed to sense his gaze and offered a soft, playful smile. Tucking his pen away, he said, “Please wait a moment.” The words were clearly directed at Cheng An, his eyes locked onto the Beta’s face.
Once the Alpha walked away, Song Boyan asked, “You know him?”
“He’s an employee at the coffee shop downstairs from my office,” Cheng An replied. “We see each other often.”
“Are you close?”
“We’re alright,” Cheng An said. He wasn’t sure why Song Boyan seemed so interested, but he felt relaxed enough to tease back a little. “Does it affect me, who I see?”
Song Boyan nodded solemnly. “Yes. The people you befriend and the people you see can affect your rest.”
Cheng An was skeptical. “Really?”
“Really,” Song Boyan insisted, his tone mock-serious. “Even though you’re a Beta and can’t sense pheromones, spending too much time with Alphas can influence your hormone levels and neural sleep patterns. Some Alphas have very overbearing pheromones; they try to invade your space constantly. The only lucky thing is that as a Beta, you’re oblivious to the pressure.”
Cheng An was starting to believe him, but he couldn’t help but ask, “Aren’t you a doctor of Traditional Chinese Medicine?”
“Can’t a TCM doctor know about pheromones?” Song Boyan said with a smile. “Give me your hand. Let me check your pulse. I meant to do it last time, but someone interrupted us and I forgot.”
He reached out and took Cheng An’s wrist.
Cheng An’s hand was warm. As a Beta, his frame was smaller and his skin was finer than an Alpha’s. When Song Boyan’s fingertips pressed against his skin, he felt a remarkable softness.
Song Boyan looked up to find Cheng An watching him with curious, deep grey eyes calm and gentle behind his lenses.
Suppressing his growing affection, Song Boyan lowered his gaze to focus on the pulse. Time ticked by. Even when Zhou Song brought out their dishes and shot several lingering looks their way, Song Boyan didn’t move.
Cheng An grew nervous. Seeing the doctor’s serious face and knitted brows, he began to feel like he was being diagnosed with a terminal illness. The silence made his heart race.
“Dr. Song?” Cheng An finally whispered. “What’s wrong with me?”
Song Boyan looked up. “I suggest you take a real break. The overwork is starting to damage your system. Once this project is over, you should ask for leave—at least a week of total rest.”
Cheng An hesitated.
“It’s doctor’s orders. You have to listen.” Song Boyan placed a piece of the long-awaited pork belly onto the grill. “And try to keep your distance from Alphas. Even if you can’t smell them, their fluctuations still affect you.”
This was news to Cheng An. He searched Song Boyan’s face, but the man looked entirely sincere, not like he was joking.
Then, Song Boyan asked casually, “How do you usually get along with other Alphas? Are you… intimate with anyone? Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No,” Cheng An said.
Song Boyan’s face instantly broke into a radiant smile. He placed the perfectly grilled pork belly into Cheng An’s bowl. “It’s ready. Eat up before it gets cold.”
Cheng An hadn’t even noticed when he’d finished grilling it. Eager to try the fragrant meat, he leaned down just as Song Boyan warned, “Careful, it’s hot.”
He was a second too late. Cheng An burned the tip of his tongue. He hissed, dropped the meat, and instinctively stuck his tongue out a little to cool the pain.
Under the restaurant lights, his soft, red tongue glistened. Song Boyan stared, mesmerized. “A kitten’s tongue really is sensitive to heat…” he murmured.
“What did you say?” Cheng An asked blurredly.
“I said, it’s a good chance for me to check your tongue coating. Let me see if you’re actually burned.” Song Boyan leaned in close, as if to inspect the injury.
Cheng An belatedly realized how strange this must look in public. He glanced around quickly, and seeing no one staring, he pushed Song Boyan’s head away. “I’m fine, no need to look.”
Just then, a bottle of juice landed on their table. It was Zhou Song.
The young Alpha was smiling, but the warmth didn’t reach his eyes. He gave Song Boyan a dismissive glance before turning to Cheng An with a soft, genuine look. “Congratulations! You’re our lucky customer. This drink is on the house. Enjoy your meal.”
Cheng An stared at him, dazed by the sudden interruption. Zhou Song gave one last hollow, “skin-deep” smile to Song Boyan before walking away.
Zhou Song retreated to the service entrance, peeking around the doorframe to watch them. Seeing Song Boyan laughing and talking with Cheng An made him grit his teeth like a frustrated puppy. A coworker noticed and looked over.
“What are you looking at? That Omega?” the coworker asked.
“He’s not an Omega,” Zhou Song snapped.
“I was wondering. An Omega in this district would be like a lamb in a lion’s den. But he is beautiful different from an Alpha’s beauty. He’s unique… has this cold, resilient vibe. You like him?”
Zhou Song didn’t answer.
“Well, if you don’t, maybe I’ll have a go. Since he’s not an Omega, there’s no risk of pregnancy anyway.”
Smack.
The coworker gasped as Zhou Song slapped him, a cold, emotionless smile on his face. “There was a fly on your face. You seem to attract them.” As the other man’s face twisted in shock and anger, Zhou Song’s expression turned icy.
“You piece of trash,” he hissed, his usually bright eyes filled with venom. “Don’t you dare touch him.”
Back at the table, Song Boyan was asking about Zhou Song. Cheng An, oblivious to the subtext, answered honestly about their daily interactions at the coffee shop. This seemed to put Song Boyan at ease just a persistent “puppy” then, not a real threat.
They began to eat in peace until a sudden commotion erupted. Two Alphas had started a brawl.
Alpha fights are no small matter. One of the men was Zhou Song. Cheng An watched as the other Alpha, face bruised from Zhou Song’s fists, screamed in a rage.
“You think you’re special? Even in the A-District, you’re just a bottom-tier Alpha! Why else would you be working a service job? You’re just as low as I am!”
“I am nothing like you,” Zhou Song growled, his voice thick with fury.
Managers rushed in to break it up, apologizing to the customers as both Alphas were dragged away. Silence returned, but Cheng An kept staring at the spot where Zhou Song had been.
“What’s wrong?” Song Boyan asked.
“Nothing,” Cheng An said, turning back. “It’s just… Zhou Song isn’t usually the type to hit people. Something must have made him very angry.”
Since adding him on social media, Cheng An had only seen the “Happy Puppy” version of Zhou Song vibrant, energetic, and always smiling. He hadn’t expected him to look so terrifying when provoked. He wondered what could have caused such a reaction.
Song Boyan didn’t care about the fight and tried to redirect the conversation, but then a door slammed loudly. Zhou Song walked out of the back office, still looking livid. He was pulling off his uniform jacket. The shirt underneath seemed a bit tight on his broad, athletic frame.
He tossed the jacket onto an empty chair and walked out of the restaurant. Someone nearby whispered, “Looks like he got fired.”
Cheng An watched him walk away. Zhou Song seemed to feel the gaze and turned back. His look wasn’t one of sadness or regret; it was one of relief and softness. Cheng An blinked, a sinking feeling in his gut telling him the fight had something to do with him.
The rest of the dinner was quiet, filled only with the sizzle of the grill and Song Boyan’s amusing stories about his clinic. Cheng An laughed a few times, but his mind was elsewhere.
When they finished, Cheng An turned to Song Boyan. “I forgot to tell you—I have to submit my project by Monday, and I need to check my team’s work. I’ll be too busy this weekend to visit the clinic.”
Song Boyan looked at him with helpless, gentle eyes. Cheng An nervously fiddled with the cap of the juice bottle Zhou Song had given him—he hadn’t drunk it, but he’d brought it with him.
“I figured you wouldn’t follow doctor’s orders,” Song Boyan sighed. “But the fact that you made time for dinner makes me happy enough. I’ll let you off the hook this once.”
Cheng An smiled. “Thank you for your mercy, Dr. Song.”
“Let me drive you home.”
“No need. Isn’t your clinic busy?”
“The clinic is busy, but I’m not. I’ve cleared all my time for you.”
As they walked toward the parking lot through the crowded, neon-lit streets, Cheng An spotted a familiar silhouette. He stopped in his tracks.
“I saw someone I need to talk to,” Cheng An told Song Boyan. “You go ahead.” Before Song Boyan could even nod, Cheng An disappeared into the crowd.
Song Boyan stood alone, the shadows of the street blurring his expression.
“Zhou Song.”
The Alpha sitting on the stairs looked up. Blood was still seeping from the cut on his cheek. Half of his handsome face was hidden in shadow. The overpass was quiet here, away from the noise of the city.
This Zhou Song was different somber, quiet, and isolated.
Cheng An wasn’t usually one to meddle, but he hated being a burden to others. He knew Zhou Song had fought and lost his job because of him.
He walked up the stairs. Zhou Song’s eyes locked onto him. “Cheng An,” he whispered, his voice soft in the cold wind.
Cheng An stood a step below him. From this position, the streetlights illuminated Cheng An’s delicate features and the bright reflections in his grey eyes.
Zhou Song, remaining in the dark, looked up at him. At this distance, Cheng An could see the gash on his cheek it looked like it was from broken glass.
“Was it because of me?” Cheng An asked.
“No,” Zhou Song lied.
Cheng An didn’t push it. “When did you start working there?”
“Two days ago.”
“I thought you worked at the coffee shop?”
“Just a part-time gig. The shop closes early, so I come here at night.”
He answered every question like a well-behaved student.
A silence fell between them. The wind blew Cheng An’s bangs aside, revealing his gentle eyes. Zhou Song couldn’t look away. In the hazy city light, the Beta looked so beautiful and calm a mix of resilience and softness that was utterly captivating.
Cheng An reached out and lightly brushed his fingers against Zhou Song’s cheek. He avoided the wound, his warm fingertips barely ghosting over the skin. “Regardless of why… thank you.”
A surge of youthful passion and tenderness swept through Zhou Song. Forgetting his shyness, he reached out and wrapped his arms around Cheng An’s waist. He pressed his uninjured cheek against Cheng An’s stomach, breathing in the comforting, clean scent of the Beta.
It wasn’t the scent of a pheromone, and it wouldn’t soothe a rampaging Alpha in the traditional sense—but it calmed him instantly, leaving him deeply, helplessly intoxicated.