The Corporate Slave Beta Is Surrounded by Alphas - Chapter 3

Betas have no pheromones. They cannot be marked, nor can they mark others. Their reproductive chambers and glands have long since atrophied. Because of this, the back of the neck, an area so sensitive to others, might as well be any other patch of ordinary skin to a Beta.

Cheng An had always shared this view. Hearing Lu Xunzhou make such a fuss over it left him slightly bewildered.

The office fell silent as Lu Xunzhou processed his words. He looked at Cheng An steadily, clearly wanting to say something, but finding no way to refute the simple biological fact, he let the words die in his throat.

Cheng An checked the time; he had already been in Lu Xunzhou’s office for quite a while. After a final check of the data and documents, it was finally time to clock out. He turned to Lu Xunzhou. “I’ll be heading out now, Mr. Lu.”

His tone was flat, his expression tired and indifferent. He maintained this same chilly distance with everyone. Even though Lu Xunzhou and Cheng An had known each other for years, there were many moments where Lu Xunzhou didn’t dare cross the line.

Lu Xunzhou watched Cheng An’s retreating back until he disappeared. Finally, he leaned his head against his hand and let out a weary sigh that no one would ever hear.

….

Although Cheng An was never late, never left early, and never missed a day of work, and despite the fact that he performed his duties flawlessly. He didn’t like working at all.

After a shift, he was like any other ordinary person: utterly drained, wanting nothing more than to be alone in the silence to slowly recover his energy.

Most of the time, Cheng An looked perpetually exhausted. His hair was often a bit too long because he simply forgot to get it cut. He was a creature of habit: the same black suit, the same heavy black-rimmed glasses, the same laptop bag, and the same quiet, weary face.

Anyone who saw him would recognize him instantly as the quintessential corporate drone.

This particular drone always left exactly on time, unless the day’s tasks were exceptionally complex or urgent. Fortunately, even when overtime was required, a company like Changyun paid well for the extra hours.

He caught a blurry glimpse of his reflection in the subway window.

It was peak rush hour, and the train was packed. Finding no seat, he was forced to stand, with the crowd pressing in from all sides.

This core development district was primarily populated by Alphas; tall, imposing specimens. Cheng An’s frame was nearly swallowed by the sea of Alphas surrounding him. His head barely reached their shoulders; he was effectively buried in their midst.

However, he was so used to this scene that it no longer phased him.

He still remembered when he first moved to this district and how the Alphas would gossip about him. They would stand behind him and strike up conversations as if he couldn’t hear them.

“So small.”

“He’s pretty. An Omega?”

“An Omega in this district? That’s like a lamb walking into a lion’s den.”

“I don’t smell any pheromones.”

“Maybe he’s wearing a scent-blocking patch on his neck.”

“Mmm, he smells good, but it’s not pheromones.”

“There’s nothing on his neck.”

“He’s a Beta.”

“He’s actually a Beta.”

No one had ever brazenly tried to pick him up or touch him disrespectfully. Most Alphas here were highly educated elites with a certain level of personal decorum. They usually kept their discussions to low whispers with their friends, though Cheng An could still catch snatches of them.

During his early days in the district, he had heard those comments frequently. But as time passed, the local Alphas seemed to have adjusted to the presence of a lone Beta among them, and the talk eventually died down.

Fresh off the clock, Cheng An’s exhaustion was peaking. His recent insomnia made the cramped, crowded space feel even more stifling.

His hand gripped the overhead handrail, his thin wrist bone protruding slightly, casting a sharp silhouette against the glass reflection. Cheng An’s eyelids drooped, and he didn’t notice another Alpha squeezing in behind him.

The man stood directly at his back, reaching up to grip the same rail. His broad hand was inches away from Cheng An’s. Next to the Alpha’s hand, Cheng An’s fingers looked pale and delicate.

The Alpha’s fingertips brushed against the metal, his grip tightening as if struggling to suppress a surge of excitement.

When the station announcement chimed, Cheng An finally blinked his eyes open from his daze. He looked back at the glass window and realized an Alpha was standing right behind him.

The man was so tall that his head was cut off by the reflection. All Cheng An could see was a sharp, well-tailored suit. The Alpha’s broad frame practically enveloped him. With the slight swaying of the train, his chest brushed slowly against Cheng An’s back.

But it was just the friction of fabric against fabric; Cheng An hardly felt a thing.

The scent of the Alpha wafted over him. Being a Beta, all he could smell was a faint, clean scent of laundry detergent. He was completely oblivious to the thick, overwhelming pheromones that were currently saturating the entire carriage.

The scent was aggressive and pungent, making the other Alpha passengers visibly uncomfortable. They, in turn, began releasing their own pheromones in an attempt to reclaim their personal space. The other passengers stole frequent glances toward them, seeing only a Beta tucked into the embrace of a brown-haired Alpha.

The Beta was being possessively shrouded in the Alpha’s pheromones—a silent, dominant declaration of ownership to every other Alpha present.

Cheng An, unable to perceive pheromones, remained entirely unaware of the undercurrents swirling in the silence. When his stop arrived, he disembarked with his usual tired gait.

Still, he felt the prickle of a gaze on his back. He turned around just as the subway doors closed and the train pulled away. There was no one behind him.

He figured that after discovering those drawings, he had simply developed a heightened, paranoid sense of being watched. People had always looked at him; he usually just assumed they were curious about a Beta being in this part of town.

But lately, that feeling had intensified, the sensation of a pair of eyes following him all the way until he reached his front door.

The feeling was stronger than ever now, yet when he turned his head, there was nothing but shadows.

He dismissed it as psychological stress. He was exhausted. He just wanted to try and get some sleep, and he was already planning to see the doctor tomorrow.

He had too much to do to worry about strange coincidences. Clutching his briefcase, he walked slowly toward his apartment.

His silhouette blended into the darkening streets. Under the glow of the setting sun, his elegant features were caught in a rare moment of warmth—a soft, beautiful contrast to the cold palette that usually defined him.

Hidden deep in the dark shadows, a figure held his breath. His pupils dilated with raw excitement. He stared intently at the back of the man disappearing into the gloom, his feet moving instinctively to follow.

The stalker only stopped once Cheng An had disappeared inside his building and the lights flickered on in a dark window above.

He stood there for a long time, staring up at that single glow. Finally, a satisfied, joyous smile spread across his face. He turned and walked away with a light, rhythmic step, like an innocent child humming a shapeless tune of his own making.

…..

[Are you off work?]

Cheng An had just stepped out of the shower when he saw the message from Song Boyan.

Cheng An replied: [Yeah.]

Song Boyan responded instantly: [How are you feeling lately?]

Towel-drying his hair with one hand, Cheng An typed back: [I can sleep, but only when I’m beyond exhausted.]

[I don’t have anyone else here today. Do you want to come by for a massage?]

Cheng An checked the time. It was only 7:30—still early.

Song Boyan: [I just got off work too. We could grab dinner together. Have you eaten?]

Cheng An said: [Not yet.] He had originally planned to order takeout and wait for his hair to dry while the food was being delivered.

Song Boyan: [I remember that restaurant you mentioned last time. Let’s go there today.]

It had been a while since Cheng An had enjoyed a proper meal. Seeing the invitation, he felt a flicker of interest. After a moment’s thought, he messaged back.

[Okay.]

Immediately, the reply came: [I’m already downstairs. Come on down, I’ll drive you.]

Cheng An was taken aback. He walked to the window and pulled back the curtain. Sure enough, a car was parked below.

As if by some telepathic link, just as Cheng An looked out, Song Boyan poked his head out of the car window and gave him a cheerful wave.

Cheng An hadn’t expected him to show up at his doorstep. Since he was home alone, he had only pulled on a pair of shorts after his shower. His upper body was still bare. By pulling the curtain back like that, he had inadvertently let Song Boyan see him without a shirt.

His pale shoulders were still glistening with droplets of water under the room’s light. His slender neck was fully exposed, the shadows from the light pooling in the hollows of his collarbones.

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