Why is this top-tier Alpha boss acting like this? - Chapter 12

Cheng Yan stood awkwardly in front of the Omega, letting out a helpless sigh.

Because of Song Yang’s words, everyone’s gaze was now fixed on him. He felt as if a spotlight had been turned on, leaving him nowhere to hide.

The opposing group hadn’t expected Song Yang to suddenly drag someone out. For a moment, scrutiny, mockery, and gazes looking for a good show rained down on Cheng Yan. However, once they saw his face clearly, the words of doubt got stuck in their throats, unable to be voiced.

Cheng Yan’s face was flawless—his beauty was objective, the kind that made it impossible to utter a single word of denial.

Seeing that no one spoke, Song Yang let out a childish, low chuckle, sounding like he had won a great battle. “Seen enough?”

The Omega’s eyes brimmed with tears as his gaze darted back and forth between the two men. Then, his eyes widened in sudden realization, and he spoke in a trembling, disbelieving voice, “You… the two of you… you two Alphas are actually… perverts!”

With that, the Omega could no longer bear it; he covered his face and ran away crying.

Omegas are the rarest of all genders, and every Omega during their student years is treated like the moon surrounded by stars—especially one as beautiful as this one. The crowd that had been clamoring for Song Yang’s apology immediately forgot everything else and rushed out to chase after him.

Once they left, the tension in the room plummeted. The booth fell silent, and even the air felt less cramped.

Cheng Yan relaxed his stiff body. He turned around, intending to ask Song Yang to let go of his shoulder, only to find that he couldn’t move. The strength in the hand on his shoulder had unknowingly increased to the point of restricting his movement. Furthermore, the peppermint pheromones hidden beneath the smell of alcohol began to grow wildly, surrounding him from behind like tentacles.

Is Song Yang angry? Now? He only starts getting mad after everyone has left?

Cheng Yan held his breath and struggled with force just before the pheromones completely engulfed him.

The hand on his shoulder finally let go. After a slight hesitation, the aggressive pheromones stopped surging toward him.

He stepped back, putting an uncomfortable amount of distance between them—reaching a “safety zone” that allowed him to calm down.

This was the first time he had experienced the irresistible chemical reaction between an Alpha and an Omega.

He never knew that facing Song Yang’s pheromones after his own gland had “restarted” would elicit such a reaction. His gland was no longer numb; instead, it had become a crisis alarm. The moment Song Yang released his pheromones, it screamed a frantic reminder: a powerful predator was locking onto him.

His physical instinct told him this lock-on was inescapable, yet his logic urged him to flee.

Is this the pheromone suppression of a high-level Alpha?

But Song Yang clearly wasn’t trying to suppress him; his pheromones were simply fluctuating because of his bad mood!

It was only at this moment that he truly understood why the other AOs in the company were so afraid of Song Yang. It was… truly a physiological fear!

He also realized that over the past two years, the fact that he hadn’t feared Song Yang’s pheromones at all due to his gland issues must have seemed like an irrationally powerful strength in the eyes of others. No wonder Xiao Lin and the rest trusted him so much!

I’m screwed.

That was his honest thought. Now, he was afraid too.

He asked himself: if it were the “current” him, would he still dare to rush into a scene where Song Yang’s pheromones were out of control?

Not a chance!

What would happen if Song Yang’s pheromones went wild again in the future? Would he be just as helpless as everyone else? Given Song Yang’s temper, such situations would only become more frequent…

At this thought, his expression soured instantly.

“What? You think I’m disgusting too?”

As his thoughts were spiraling out of control, Song Yang’s signature clear voice came from directly in front of him. The tone was light, but Cheng Yan sensed a hint of grievance in it.

Disgusting?

It took a few seconds for him to realize why that word had come out of Song Yang’s mouth. It was the word the Omega had blurted out when he misunderstood the relationship between Cheng Yan and Song Yang before fleeing.

Was Song Yang actually bothered by that word?

This man had managed to control his pheromones while being surrounded and attacked by a crowd demanding an apology, yet he got so angry that his pheromones fluctuated after they left, likely because of that one sentence.

Cheng Yan didn’t quite understand why Song Yang was so upset. They weren’t in that kind of relationship, and those people would never appear before them again. He felt there was no need to care about what a stranger said.

However, since Song Yang minded the word, Cheng Yan couldn’t add fuel to the fire. Song Yang was the type of person you had to “stroke with the grain.”

Thus, he shook his head and replied, “No.”

Hearing the answer, Song Yang’s expression remained poor. His deep eyes searched Cheng Yan’s, a flickering light dancing within them as if he were deep in thought.

Yuan the Third, seeing the two standing there motionless, leaned in curiously. “What are you two talking about?”

Song Yang didn’t reply. He turned back to his original seat, sat down heavily, and poured himself another glass of wine.

Yuan the Third let out a worried sound and tugged at Cheng Yan’s sleeve, whispering urgently, “Hurry and think of a way to get Brother Yang home. He’s starting again.”

Recalling his purpose for coming, Cheng Yan found himself in a difficult spot. To be honest, he still hadn’t thought of a way to convince Song Yang to leave.

But Yuan the Third didn’t care about the details. He directly shouted at Song Yang, “Brother Yang, Assistant Cheng has something to say to you!”

After saying that, Yuan the Third even gave Cheng Yan a push from behind, forcing him two steps forward.

Wait—didn’t Yuan the Third say they would think of a way together? Why was he the only one being pushed out now?

Cheng Yan gave Yuan the Third a troubled look, only to receive a hopeful and encouraging gaze in return.

Fine. He was being “driven like a duck onto a perch.”

Meeting Song Yang’s frost-cold gaze, he opened his mouth and said dryly, “President Song, it’s time to go back.”

The hopeful look on Yuan the Third’s face froze. He stepped forward in disbelief and asked indignantly, “That’s it? You have nothing else to say?”

Cheng Yan frowned and stepped aside. “You try, then.”

Yuan the Third lost his momentum. He slumped back onto the sofa, lying there without any dignity, completely giving up. “Whatever. I can’t handle this anymore. Don’t bother me; I’m going to sleep.”

With that, he actually closed his eyes, looking ready to have a pleasant nap.

Just as Yuan the Third closed his eyes, Song Yang, who had just poured himself a drink, stood up.

The booth fell silent again. Even the person so drunk they were calling for their mother shut their mouth.

Song Yang scanned the room. “Who took my phone? Give it back.”

Almost immediately, someone walked in with a black phone held in both hands, head bowed and taking tiny steps like an imperial eunuch. Once Song Yang took the phone, the person retreated in the same manner.

Song Yang checked his phone, confirmed it was his, and stuffed it into his pocket. He walked toward the door in silence, then stopped at the threshold. He looked back at Cheng Yan, who was still standing blankly in place. “Let’s go. What are you standing there for? Didn’t you say it was time to go back?”

That was it? He’s actually going?

Cheng Yan gave a quick response and followed him. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. Those people on the phone made it sound like an impossible task, leading him to believe Song Yang would be difficult to persuade. It only took one sentence?

He had to wonder: had those people actually tried to persuade Song Yang to go home before he arrived? He would have to keep an open mind about that.

His car was in the parking lot in front of the shop. He reached the entrance, intending to ask where Song Yang’s car was, only to see the Big Boss walk straight to his car and wait by the passenger door.

Was he… planning to hitch a ride?

He stood by the car and asked, “President Song, where is your car? I can drive it back for you.” Then he could take a taxi back to get his own car.

Song Yang looked at him with narrowed eyes. “What, I can’t sit in your car?”

Cheng Yan took a deep breath, pulled out his keys, and unlocked the vehicle. “Please, after you.”

He felt the man was mentally unstable—the illness had clearly worsened after drinking. Why leave his multi-million dollar car behind to ride in a fifteen-thousand dollar electric car? Wasn’t he afraid of throwing up after drinking so much? What was he thinking?

Song Yang got in and first surveyed the interior accessories. Then, with extreme naturalness, he adjusted the seat, pulled the seatbelt over, and buckled it with a click. He acted as if it wasn’t his first time in the car; he was incredibly familiar with it.

Cheng Yan gave him a strange look and got in.

Since reaching adulthood, Song Yang had moved out of the Song family estate and bought a small villa near the company. Cheng Yan knew the address, so he didn’t use navigation and drove straight toward Song Yang’s residence.

The journey was somewhat long—a full thirty minutes. Along the way, the car was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Song Yang stared out the window the entire time, giving Cheng Yan only the back of his head.

Perhaps because the car’s interior was so small, Cheng Yan, who was concentrating on driving, could faintly smell the pheromones drifting over from Song Yang’s side.

During a red light, he pressed the window button and rolled down the front windows. A cool night breeze blew in, and the faint peppermint scent was quickly scattered by the wind. While the breeze from the passenger side brought the scent, it didn’t linger.

Cheng Yan was satisfied.

The car started moving again. While feeling the night air, Song Yang suddenly spoke. “Can I connect to your car’s Bluetooth?”

His voice was a bit scattered by the wind, but Cheng Yan heard him. He glanced at Song Yang, but still only saw the back of his head. “Sure, help yourself.”

Song Yang turned around, took out his phone, and successfully connected to the Bluetooth after a few taps.

Seconds later, music began to flow from the car speakers. One song followed another, but the more Cheng Yan listened, the more the mood felt wrong.

You’re Not Truly Happy Wedding Blessing Acceptance

…Huh?

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