Why is this top-tier Alpha boss acting like this? - Chapter 15

Cheng Yan stood up and greeted him calmly. “Good morning, President Song.”

The others, who had been momentarily stunned, snapped back to reality and followed suit immediately. “Good morning, President Song!”

Their voices were loud and perfectly synchronized. In just four words, the General Manager’s Assistants’ Office displayed their incredible chemistry and outstanding professional spirit.

Song Yang’s face remained dark, and his tone was somewhat airy as he spoke. “It is already working hours. Why are you all gathered here?”

Everyone fell silent. No one dared to make a sound at a time like this; they all fixed their gazes on the floor, terrified of making eye contact with Song Yang.

A faint scent of peppermint pheromones, carrying a hint of chill, began to permeate the office. While not intense, it was enough to signal just how foul Song Yang’s mood was.

Unlike that night at the small bar, Song Yang’s pheromones were significantly more diffused now, yet Cheng Yan’s heart still involuntarily quickened its pace. This feeling of being out of control made Cheng Yan frown slightly. He subtly slowed his breathing, trying to minimize his contact with Song Yang’s pheromones.

Song Yang’s gaze was like a blade, sweeping across everyone present with almost physical weight. His cold voice carried a sharp edge. “Why haven’t you returned to your workstations yet?”

The moment he finished speaking, the group didn’t hesitate; they scattered like startled birds, not forgetting to wheel away the office chairs they had “ridden” over.

Before long, the sounds of flipping files, clicking mice, and tapping keyboards rang out. Whether they were truly busy or just pretending, everyone looked occupied.

Cheng Yan sat down as well and turned on his computer. While waiting for it to boot up, he intended to tidy his desk, but as he opened his drawer, his peripheral vision caught something outside the door.

His movements froze.

Song Yang… hadn’t left?

He looked up. Song Yang was still standing in the same spot, motionless. Although he wasn’t looking at Cheng Yan directly, his gaze was fixed in his direction, though it was unclear what he was looking at. Following Song Yang’s line of sight, Cheng Yan roughly located the target.

Was Song Yang looking at his desk?

His desk was always kept tidy. Aside from standard office supplies, there was nothing strange on it. He didn’t think there was anything there worth such a piercing stare from Song Yang.

He looked back at Song Yang standing in the doorway, the confusion in his eyes deepening. Perhaps it was the lighting or the angle, but he felt that in this short span of time, a trace of inexplicable… resentment had appeared in Song Yang’s eyes.

Where did this resentment come from?

Before he could overthink it, Song Yang, who had been standing there for a long while, suddenly moved. Under the covert attention of everyone in the office, he actually lifted his foot and walked inside.

The sounds of mice and keyboards stopped for a split second in a bizarre synchronization. When they resumed, the frequency had increased significantly.

Cheng Yan watched as Song Yang familiarly bypassed the other employees’ desks and walked straight toward him, step by step, finally stopping beside his desk.

The closer he got, the clearer Song Yang’s target became. Looking again in the direction of the man’s gaze, Cheng Yan found a distinct object: the kraft paper bag from Qing Jin Ji.

???

He opened his mouth, unable to stop an inquiry from escaping. “President Song?”

Is there a problem with this bag?

Song Yang didn’t even look at him, letting out a single syllable from his nose. “Mm?”

After hesitating for a few seconds, Cheng Yan squeezed out a sentence. “Do you have any instructions?”

Song Yang didn’t answer. He just lowered his brow and stared at the kraft bag, his gaze growing heavier. Then, he reached out, past the black pen holder, toward the notebook… under the kraft bag. With a flick of his wrist, he flipped the kraft bag up.

The bag drifted lightly off the edge of the desk, spun twice in the air, and landed with precision in the trash can beside the desk.

Song Yang flipped open the notebook. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Cheng Yan looked at the kraft bag lying in the trash in bewilderment, then looked up at Song Yang, replying hesitantly, “…It’s okay.”

The man said he was sorry, but there wasn’t a hint of apology on his face—only satisfaction with his masterpiece. Cheng Yan felt quite guilty for saying it was okay.

Song Yang smiled, a fake grin if there ever was one. “You should have other bags at home, right?”

Where did this question come from? Who doesn’t have a few bags for carrying things at home? Cheng Yan’s mind was full of question marks; he couldn’t guess what Song Yang was thinking at all. He paused, then chose to follow Song Yang’s train of thought. “I do.”

Song Yang flipped through the notebook, nodding as he read. “Good. As long as you have more. I thought you only had that one bag at home.”

…

He couldn’t find a way to respond to that. Not at all!

He felt like Song Yang was being passive-aggressive, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the “passive” or the “aggressive” parts were supposed to mean.

After a moment, as if he’d stayed long enough, Song Yang handed the notebook back to him. Before leaving, he pointed to the page he had flipped to and said flatly, “You’ve recorded these issues very thoroughly. At ten… no, nine-thirty. Using these points as the core, we’ll have a meeting in the small conference room. Have everyone notify the other relevant parties and bring their materials.”

With that, he left, leaving the few people in the office sitting stiffly at their desks.

Once Song Yang was completely out of earshot, the office erupted.

Xiao Lin: “Another meeting! Damn! Nine-thirty! That leaves us almost no time to prepare!”

Zhang Qing’s desk was closer to Cheng Yan’s; she was currently peeking at his desk. “Boss, what’s in that notebook?”

Cheng Yan gave a bitter smile. “It’s my work journal. I record complex tasks in there and list potential problems. I prepare in advance for anything that can be prepared for.”

Zhang Qing shrank back, looking miserable. “Boss, you’re mighty. But I caught the main point. Just how complex is ‘complex’?”

Cheng Yan handed the notebook to Zhang Qing. “This page contains the meeting topics President Song just called for. Look it over first; we need to get moving in a moment.”

The others huddled around to study the notebook, and soon, agonizing wails filled the room.

Song Corp doesn’t keep idle people. Those who survive there have top-tier work abilities and stress tolerance. But even so, by the time work ended, these top-tier minds were completely drained.

Cheng Yan, his head buzzing, organized his things, said goodbye to his colleagues who were finishing up, and turned to leave the office.

Rush hour meant heavy traffic, so it took some time on the road. When he drove back to the entrance of his complex, Qin Leyan was squatting by the roadside waiting for him. He honked the horn; Qin Leyan looked up, saw it was him, and came running over happily, carrying a large plastic bag.

This reminded him of the question Song Yang had asked that morning.

“You should have other bags at home, right?”

Yes! Of course I do! Isn’t there one right here?

Truly… what a bizarre question!

The moment Qin Leyan got into the car, he saw his brother’s complicated expression and asked with concern, “Brother, did work not go well today?”

Cheng Yan replied tiredly, “It was okay. Pretty smooth.”

No matter how hard work is, there’s always a way to solve it. But people are different; you can’t find a “fix” for them, nor can you “solve” them. Dealing with them is more exhausting than work.

He turned the car around and drove toward the hospital. By the time they arrived, it was completely dark. He sent Qin Leyan ahead to Su Runan’s office to wait, while he used his medical card to complete the tests prescribed the previous week. Finally, he made it to Su Runan’s office.

The bag Qin Leyan had been carrying contained a cooked meal. While waiting for the reports, Qin Leyan laid out the food, and they sat around the circular table in the office to eat while they waited.

Su Runan looked up occasionally as he ate, seeing Cheng Yan’s dull, vacant gaze. He curled his lip in mock disgust. “Why do you look more exhausted than me, and I’ve been doing surgeries all day?”

Cheng Yan looked at Su Runan blankly. “Don’t even start. These past few days, I’ve wanted to use Super Glue to stick myself to my bed.”

Qin Leyan’s face was crumpled with worry. “Brother Runan, is it normal for my brother to be like this? These past two days, once he falls asleep, you can’t wake him up. It’s like he hasn’t slept in three days. It’s too much!”

Su Runan’s brow furrowed. “Besides the lethargy, are there any other issues? Any discomfort in the gland?”

Cheng Yan shook his head. “Aside from being tired, it’s okay. The gland… no real discomfort. It’s just that when I encounter Alpha pheromones, there’s a specific reaction. It’s not exactly ‘uncomfortable,’ though.”

Su Runan gave an “oh.” As an Omega specialist with solid professional knowledge, he understood immediately what Cheng Yan was describing. “What you’re feeling is likely the pheromone suppression of a high-level Alpha. It’s that S-rank boss of yours, isn’t it? Since you don’t feel ‘uncomfortable’ per se, his pheromones are likely just leaking. That’s normal. Just try to avoid him as much as possible from now on.”

As they spoke, Su Runan’s phone chimed with a notification. Cheng Yan put down his chopsticks and leaned back limply against the chair. His test results were likely out; he was very familiar with this process.

Su Runan held his phone, occasionally zooming in on the photos on the screen. The more he looked, the tighter his brow became.

Qin Leyan couldn’t hold it in. “What’s with that face? Is my brother dying?”

Why does that sound like an insult?

Cheng Yan sighed, lacking the energy to stop his foul-mouthed brother. He turned and asked Su Runan directly, “Is there a problem?”

Su Runan pondered for a moment. “Yes and no. From the ultrasound data, your gland development is slow but healthy, and the reproductive cavity is also developing. All that is fine. However, your pheromone detection values are still on the high side. Given your current gland capacity, secreting pheromones at this level consumes a massive amount of energy. It’s as if your body’s nutrition is supporting gland development while simultaneously expending huge amounts of energy to support pheromone secretion. With both happening at once, it’s no wonder you’re tired. Being merely lethargic is actually getting off easy.”

Su Runan put away his phone and continued eating. “I’ll send your report to my mentor. We’ll find the specific cause of the pheromone abnormality as soon as possible. Don’t worry too much; it shouldn’t be anything bad that affects your recovery. For now, just eat well and try to replenish your energy. Once your energy levels are up, you won’t feel this tired. After dinner, go to the infusion room; I’ll give you a nutrient drip. The rest is up to little Leyan—make sure he cooks more good food for you.”

Since Su Runan said it was fine, Cheng Yan was temporarily relieved. After finishing his IV drip, he took Qin Leyan home. The boy was quiet the whole way back, seemingly deep in thought. Before bed, Qin Leyan suddenly pushed open Cheng Yan’s bedroom door and said: “Brother, starting tomorrow, I’m going to your company every day at noon to bring you lunch!”

Cheng Yan paused mid-climb into bed, then rejected the idea immediately without a second thought. “No need. Our company has a cafeteria.”

Song Corp’s cafeteria food was actually quite good. When he was busy in the past, he often packed meals from there to take home.

Qin Leyan naturally didn’t agree. “Is the cafeteria food as good as mine?”

Uh… honestly, no.

And so, Qin Leyan happily decided on his daily “Lunch of Love” delivery service. Cheng Yan was already so tired he fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, lacking any energy to argue with Qin Leyan. He simply let him be.

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