The Corporate Slave Beta Is Surrounded by Alphas - Chapter 7

Cheng An had a wonderful time. And Lu Xunzhou had a wonderful time taking photos.

Seeing the light, joyful smile that remained on Cheng An’s face, Lu Xunzhou couldn’t stop snapping pictures, wanting to preserve every single facet of his expression.

The surroundings were a cacophony of noise, with waves of screams falling from the sky. Colorful balloons drifted by, and a few wisps of white clouds hung against the azure horizon. A red roller coaster plummeted down, drawing shrill cries from the riders above.

Lu Xunzhou looked up at the hurtling coaster, curious if Cheng An would scream like that too.

If he did, he’d be a wide-eyed, yelping kitten; if he kept a stiff upper lip, he’d be a cool-faced kitten pretending not to be scared despite being terrified.

Lu Xunzhou was charmed by his own imagination. He looked up, knowing it would be a while before they came down, and stood there scrolling through the photos on his camera.

He wanted to pick the cutest ones to upload to his private album. Originally, he had set up a personal website just to document various moments of Cheng An, never expecting others to discover it.

Seeing the users below praising the “kitten,” a sense of pride welled up in him. He wanted everyone to admire and love the kitten, and over time, he had developed his personal homepage into a private forum.

Learning from his past mistake, he had encrypted this new album; no one but himself could access it. Inside were all sorts of photos of Cheng An.

He felt every photo was exceptionally adorable and couldn’t pick a “best” one, deciding he’d sort through them properly tonight. He pulled out his phone to check the forum chatter, banning a few users and deleting several posts along the way. Only then did Lu Xunzhou look up, satisfied.

Cheng An and Lu Hangyi had already made their way down.

Cheng An’s hair was a windblown mess. Fearing his glasses would fall off during the ride, he had left them with Lu Xunzhou. Now, supported by Lu Hangyi, he walked over with a pair of pale grey eyes full of dazed confusion.

Lu Xunzhou immediately stepped forward to steady him.

Cheng An was still dizzy. Normally, he would maintain a respectful distance, but now he was practically hanging off Lu Xunzhou. “That… that was too intense…” he managed to say.

He leaned his head against Lu Xunzhou’s shoulder, his knees completely weak. If Lu Xunzhou hadn’t been holding him, he probably would have collapsed onto the ground. His messy, soft hair brushed against Lu Xunzhou’s jaw, sending a ticklish sensation through him.

Lu Xunzhou pulled out more cash, using his “Banknote Superpower” to send Lu Hangyi off to buy drinks.

Naturally, Lu Hangyi wanted to create a private moment for his uncle. He took the money and left with a smirk.

Lu Xunzhou led Cheng An to a nearby bench. Leaning into Lu Xunzhou’s embrace, Cheng An was still too lightheaded to fully recover. His face was a bit pale, but otherwise, he seemed fine. His hair remained a chaotic nest.

Lu Xunzhou wanted to smooth it down. Just as he reached out, Cheng An who had been resting with his eyes closed suddenly snapped them open. His unfocused gaze landed on Lu Xunzhou.

Cheng An pushed Lu Xunzhou away, rubbing his eyes. Because of his nearsightedness, everything was a blur, and he hoped what he was seeing was a hallucination. Then he confirmed it: he really had been leaning in Lu Xunzhou’s arms.

“CEO Lu,” Cheng An blurted out.

Lu Xunzhou nodded. “You seemed a bit faint just now.”

Cheng An rubbed his head. “Yes, I think I was.” He started patting his pockets for his glasses, checking every single one before remembering they were with Lu Xunzhou.

Just as he was about to speak, Lu Xunzhou seemed to anticipate him. He produced the glasses and carefully settled them onto the bridge of Cheng An’s nose. Cheng An stared at him, momentarily stunned.

He couldn’t help but wonder: What is CEO Lu doing? This feels like the kind of tenderness someone shows right before secretly docking your pay. Cheng An noticed Lu Xunzhou’s other hand reaching out again. He stood up abruptly, thwarting the gesture. Seeing Lu Hangyi strolling back, he called out, “Xiaoyi!”

Lu Hangyi was licking an ice cream cone, walking leisurely. Hearing his name, he glanced over. His sharp little brain sensed something “off” in the atmosphere, so he immediately skipped over to break the tension.

He handed a drink to Cheng An. He hadn’t bought one for Lu Xunzhou. He knew that by buying one less, he’d have more pocket money left over—and he knew Lu Xunzhou wouldn’t care.

Cheng An, seeing that Lu Hangyi had only bought one, took it, poked the straw in, and handed it straight to Lu Xunzhou.

“CEO Lu.”

Lu Xunzhou’s face remained as calm as still water. He actually had a bit of a headache over why Cheng An insisted on maintaining such a strict superior-subordinate dynamic. But for now, he could only say, “I had Xiaoyi buy that for you.”

Cheng An’s expression was equally stoic. He suspected Lu Xunzhou might be testing him. But seeing the man’s serious demeanor, he lowered his head and took a tentative sip.

The icy juice flowed down his throat, successfully soothing the lingering heat of the day. Seeing that Lu Xunzhou looked unbothered, he realized it really was meant for him and relaxed slightly.

In front of a boss, there are always so many concerns—worrying about which word might cause dissatisfaction, or which action the boss wants to see. It seemed to be the most common psychological trait of a humble corporate slave.

Outside of work and on holidays, almost no one wants to spend time with their boss.

Fortunately, even though Cheng An was a bit stiff, Lu Xunzhou mostly refrained from joining their games, which allowed Cheng An to have a lot of fun. He played until he was satisfied, though by the end of the day, fatigue was inevitable.

Lu Hangyi was snoring in the back seat. Cheng An sat in the passenger seat, leaning back, his head nodding as he drifted in and out of sleep.

When the car stopped at the building, Lu Xunzhou didn’t rush to wake him. He gazed at Cheng An’s face, his heart filled with a quiet serenity.

Suddenly, Cheng An woke up, his eyes meeting Lu Xunzhou’s. He took off his glasses briefly and rubbed his eyes to clear his head. “Are we here?” he asked groggily.

Lu Xunzhou nodded. “Yes, we’re here.”

Cheng An unbuckled his seatbelt. “Then I’ll head up now, CEO Lu.” With that, he opened the door and stepped out. Lu Xunzhou’s eyes, hidden in the shadows, flickered with a hidden loneliness.

Abruptly, Cheng An ducked his head back in and waved. “See you tomorrow, CEO Lu.”

The eyes that had been so dark in the shadows finally sparked with light. “See you tomorrow,” Lu Xunzhou replied. But before he could finish, Cheng An was already gone. The name he whispered, sounding like a sigh, was lost in the darkness, unheard by anyone: “An-an…”

Cheng An climbed the stairs with weary steps, letting out a rare, early yawn. His eyes watered slightly; he lifted his glasses to wipe the corners of his eyes, catching a blurry glimpse of a figure crouching in front of his door.

He adjusted his glasses, finally seeing clearly that it was a person. The figure seemed to hear his footsteps and looked up.

Cheng An recognized the face—it was the intern who had helped him in the elevator yesterday.

His brown hair hung down, and his eyes were hidden in the shadow of his bangs, making them hard to read. Cheng An didn’t know his name, so he could only stand there and watch him quietly. The voice-activated hall light shone directly over Cheng An’s head, making his skin look even fairer. His slightly flushed, damp eyes gave him an air of soft vulnerability.

“Team Leader Cheng.” The man crouching there revealed a strange smile stiff, as if he were forcing his face into a friendly expression.

“I’m the person sent to coordinate the visual testing with you,” he said.

Only then did Cheng An realize this was the highly capable intern the Art Department head had mentioned: Ji Ting. He walked forward.

When it came to work, Cheng An was extremely serious. He asked, “Is it urgent? I’m on leave today.”

He thought back; he hadn’t received any messages from the Art Department on his phone. Why would someone from Art come straight to his house? Moreover, he didn’t recall ever telling Bi Yuanliang his home address. How did this intern know where he lived?

These questions flashed briefly through Cheng An’s mind. Seeing Ji Ting still crouching on the floor, he asked, “Are you going to get up?”

“Sorry, Team Leader Cheng,” Ji Ting said. “My legs are numb.”

Cheng An reached out. “Let me help you.” A large hand was placed into Cheng An’s palm.

He leaned both hands heavily on Cheng An’s arms. Perhaps he really had been crouching for too long; his body swayed as he stood. Cheng An instinctively stepped forward to steady him, and the Alpha, seemingly to keep his balance, practically draped himself over Cheng An.

Cheng An heard the man’s voice in his ear it still sounded shy and timid. “I’m sorry, Team Leader Cheng.”

He was a bit heavy. Cheng An supported him with both hands, saying only, “It’s alright.”

The Alpha rested his chin on Cheng An’s shoulder. Turning his head slightly, he inhaled the scent of Cheng An’s hair fresh and fragrant. And, of course, there was that faint, lingering scent of an Alpha’s pheromones on his body.

This made him knit his brows. He lowered his head slightly, trying to sniff the back of Cheng An’s neck. To a Beta, this area was no different from any other patch of skin, incapable of emitting pheromones.

Yet he was madly obsessed with it. At an angle Cheng An couldn’t see, his face finally betrayed an uncontrollable, ecstatic fixation. He began to smile slowly, leaning into Cheng An with contentment. Clearly, if he weren’t afraid of being caught, he would have licked the back of Cheng An’s neck.

“Ji Ting?”

Cheng An tried calling his name. The Alpha’s weight was becoming too much for him. He hoped the man’s legs would recover soon; he was starting to lose his balance.

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