The Corporate Slave Beta Is Surrounded by Alphas - Chapter 16

Cheng An took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had been sleepy before coming home, but the lingering thought of unfinished work had kept him up. Now that the tasks were finally done, his drowsiness had vanished, replaced by a restless, nervous energy.

It was midnight. He decided against a full bath to save time, opting for a quick wash and a glass of warm milk to help him drift off.

The apartment was silent, making every small noise echo. Suddenly, a dull thud hit his front door.

Cheng An froze. His mind immediately went back to Zhou Song’s warning about a stalker. Even though the Alpha had seen him safely home, the sudden sound in the dead of night sent a chill down his spine.

He strained his ears, but the silence returned. Just as he convinced himself it was an auditory hallucination, another clear thud vibrated against the wood.

Clutching his warm mug for courage, Cheng An stared at the door. He couldn’t fathom why anyone would follow him. He wasn’t wealthy, and as a plain Beta, he didn’t think he possessed any particular “allure.”

He remembered Zhou Song telling him to call if anything happened. Fearing he might be overreacting and wasting police resources, he decided to message Zhou Song first. It gave him a small measure of peace.

But the moment he hit send, a distinct notification ping echoed from the other side of the door. A faint glow from a phone screen seeped through the crack at the bottom.

Cheng An pulled the door open. A figure that had been leaning against it lost its support and tumbled forward, landing against Cheng An’s shins.

Zhou Song tilted his head back, his hair a messy bird’s nest, revealing his handsome, startled face. “Not… not asleep yet?” he stammered awkwardly.

He looked bleary-eyed; he had clearly been curled up there asleep. The “thuds” Cheng An heard were likely just the back of his head hitting the door as he nodded off.

Relief washed over Cheng An, followed by a wave of helplessness. “Why are you still here?”

Zhou Song rubbed his eyes and yawned widely. “After I dropped you off, I still felt like someone was watching. I was worried, so I thought I’d stand guard for a bit.” He tucked his phone away. “Since you’re awake, I’ll head out now.”

He tried to stand, but his legs had gone completely numb from being cramped up. He hissed in pain, clutching the doorframe like an old man.

“You’ve been here this whole time?”

“I fell asleep. I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“The university gates close at eleven,” Cheng An pointed out. “You’re locked out.”

Zhou Song blinked, his brain finally catching up. “Oh. Right. I’ll just find a hotel then.”

“Come in,” Cheng An said, unable to leave him out there. “At least have some water; your voice sounds hoarse.” He was genuinely stunned that the boy had stayed for over four hours.

Zhou Song’s hand rested on Cheng An’s arm as he wobbled inside. “My legs… I can’t feel my feet,” he joked piteously.

Cheng An suppressed a laugh. “Sit on the sofa. You can wear my slippers, but they might be a bit small.”

“It’s fine,” Zhou Song grimaced. “I have no sensation anyway.”

Once Zhou Song was settled on the sofa, Cheng An handed him the warm milk. Zhou Song took it instinctively. Seeing a faint water mark on the rim, he mistakenly thought it was a lip print from Cheng An. His ears turned beet red, and he stared at the spot in a daze.

“I haven’t touched it,” Cheng An clarified. “I just heated it.”

“Oh! Right!” Zhou Song gulped the milk down, looking utterly flustered.

Cheng An looked around his small apartment. “I only have one bedroom and a single bed. I feel bad making you pay for a hotel when you work so hard at your part-time jobs. I’ll sleep on the sofa; you take the bed.”

“No way!” Zhou Song jumped up. “I love the sofa! I grew up sleeping on a sofa; I didn’t even have a bed at home for a long time.”

Cheng An felt a pang of sympathy but didn’t know how to express it. Instead, he went to the bedroom and brought out a soft duvet and pillows, tucking Zhou Song into the plushness. He found a spare toothbrush and towel, showing him how to work the shower.

In his pajamas, with his hair tousled and eyes soft, Cheng An looked less like a stern professional and more like a scruffy, sleepy kitten. Zhou Song couldn’t take his eyes off him.

“Got all that?” Cheng An asked.

“Yes!” Zhou Song chirped, his eyes shining.

Cheng An noticed the bruises on the Alpha’s face and reached out to touch them. Zhou Song froze, letting the gentle fingers graze his skin. He hissed slightly when Cheng An touched a particularly sore spot.

“Still hurts? I can get the first aid kit.”

“No need. Alphas heal fast,” Zhou Song said proudly. “Go to sleep.”

Cheng An envied his energy. He assumed Zhou Song would pass out instantly, but he was wrong.

In the dark, the young Alpha was tossing and turning on the sofa. Every time he flipped over, he froze, terrified the noise would wake Cheng An. The duvet smelled like Cheng An—a clean, comforting scent that wasn’t a pheromone but felt even more intoxicating.

His heart raced. He closed his eyes and saw the high school version of Cheng An—standing on a podium, hair short and neat, looking utterly unreachable. And now, he was in Cheng An’s living room.

The sudden trill of a phone woke a dozing Zhou Song. He buried his head under the covers, but the ringing persisted. Realizing it wasn’t his phone, he sat up, his hair standing up at odd angles.

The sound was coming from the hallway cabinet. Cheng An had forgotten his phone there. The screen showed three missed calls from a contact labeled “L.”

Thinking it might be an emergency, Zhou Song answered the fourth call.

“Hello?” he said tentatively.

The line went silent. Then, a cold, authoritative voice asked, “Who is this?”

“Are you looking for An-an?” Zhou Song asked, using his private nickname for Cheng An by accident. “He’s sleeping. If it’s urgent, I can wake him.”

There was another long, heavy silence. The tension was palpable. “No need,” the voice snapped, and the line went dead.

Zhou Song stared at the phone. Just then, the “scruffy kitten” emerged from the bedroom. Cheng An looked adorably messy, his voice thick with sleep. “What happened?”

Zhou Song bounded over like a puppy and explained. Cheng An took the phone. “It’s my boss. He must need something.” He headed to the bathroom, telling Zhou Song, “Let’s wash up together.”

As Cheng An called Lu Xunzhou back, Zhou Song stood beside him, dutifully squeezing toothpaste onto both their brushes.

“President Lu? Is everything okay?” Cheng An asked into the phone.

“The file from before…” Lu Xunzhou’s voice was tight.

“The toothpaste won’t come out,” Zhou Song whispered, struggling with the tube. Cheng An smiled softly and leaned over. “You have to twist it here first.”

“Oh! It works now!” Zhou Song exclaimed happily.

The other end of the phone was eerily quiet. “President Lu?” Cheng An asked. “What about the file?”

“I can’t find the proposal from the last meeting. Did you take it?”

“I think I did. Do you need it now?”

“Yes,” Lu Xunzhou said. His voice was oddly flat. “Come in early.”

Before Cheng An could hang up, Lu Xunzhou added, “It’s not that urgent. Make sure you eat breakfast first. Don’t skip it.”

Zhou Song, with the heightened senses of an Alpha, caught the shift in the caller’s tone. He stayed quiet, but as he finished with the toothpaste, he asked intentionally, “Is this enough?”

Cheng An glanced at the brush. “Mhm, plenty. Don’t use too much or it’ll be too foamy.”

The line on the other end went silent once more.

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