Chapter 6
Upon arriving at Nine Springs Palace—a club owned by Ye Ling’s father—Lin Song’an was immediately greeted by Ye Ling.
“We’ve been waiting for you for so long!”
“You didn’t have to wait for me.” Lin Song’an handed his car keys to the valet.
Ye Ling’s eyes sparkled as he walked alongside Lin Song’an, smiling softly. “Who would dare start without you?”
They walked together to the entrance of the party. Lei Xin was sprawled on a long sofa, shrouded in gloom, smoking a cigarette. Seeing Lin Song’an approach, he stubbed it out and swung his legs off the sofa.
“What’s wrong with him?” Lin Song’an asked.
Ye Ling shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s been like that since class ended. He mumbled something about seeing a plague in the front row. I couldn’t understand what he meant.”
Maintaining his usual composure, Lin Song’an stood still. Lei Xin stood up, ruffled his hair messily, his face still clouded. He turned and pulled out a chair for Lin Song’an. “Bro, I brought two bartenders over. We were just waiting for you.”
Though he was only a month younger than Lin Song’an, Lei Xin had willingly called him “brother” for twenty years.
Glasses clinked together with a crisp sound. Lin Song’an remarked, “Not in high spirits?”
He asked knowingly, his tone calm, sounding both like an inquiry and a subtle reprimand. Lei Xin knew that Lin Song’an disliked his friends acting high and mighty or engaging in campus bullying. Embarrassed, he replied, “No.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Lei Xin scratched the back of his neck. “It’s just that I lost credits for a course. It’s a bit troublesome; I’ll have to retake it.”
“I’ve told you before: since you worked so hard to get admitted, you should take it seriously.”
Back then, Lei Xin’s father had intended to send him abroad, but Lei Xin insisted on attending University A with Lin Song’an. Given his grades, even doubling them wouldn’t meet the admission criteria. His father hired private tutors for one-on-one lessons and pulled strings to get him in as an athletic recruit. After much effort, he barely got into University A, but Lei Xin didn’t appreciate it.
“I—” Lei Xin sighed. “My dad doesn’t expect much from me anyway.”
Ye Ling interrupted them, “Alright, let’s not talk about that. Let’s have a drink first. It’s rare for all of us to get together.”
With Ye Ling’s return, several childhood friends had also come. They laughed and reminisced about old times. As everyone chatted and burst into laughter, Lin Song’an listened quietly, smiling without saying much. Occasionally, he glanced down at his phone.
Ye Ling leaned in, tilting his head to study Lin Song’an’s face. “Brother Song’an, now that I’m back, I feel like you’ve changed a bit.”
“Oh?” Lin Song’an put down his phone.
“You’re a little different from before.”
He chuckled softly. “Am I?”
Ye Ling noticed that Lin Song’an was wearing a new suppression patch on the back of his neck, but he didn’t mention it because he couldn’t detect any pheromone scent from him.
This indicated that there wasn’t an omega close to Lin Song’an—or if there was, it was a low-level omega.
Ye Ling had secretly tested his compatibility with Lin Song’an before: 71%—not a bad result.
Even if Lin Song’an wasn’t interested in him, Ye Ling didn’t believe he would be attracted to a low-level omega. As for betas, that was even less likely.
Ye Ling wanted to ask more, but seeing the faint smile on Lin Song’an’s face fade as he lowered his gaze, he didn’t dare continue.
There was something elusive about Lin Song’an. He was gentle and kind, never bullying the weak. Compared to the arrogant alphas around him, Lin Song’an was the epitome of a gentleman. Ye Ling had never seen him lose his temper.
Lin Song’an’s father, Lin Yexun, was famously ruthless in his methods—a real estate mogul once dubbed a “wolf-like developer.” Having a son late in life, he doted on his exceptionally gifted alpha son, Lin Song’an. It’s said that during a traditional ceremony where children choose objects symbolizing their future, Lin Song’an grabbed a golden abacus. Everyone laughed and said he’d inherit his father’s business—a little wolf in the making.
But unexpectedly, Lin Song’an grew up to be gentle and refined.
This demeanor made him beloved wherever he went, showered with praise. He received so many love letters that they could fill half a room. Yet those who interacted with him often discovered that he wasn’t as warm and approachable as he seemed. Especially in conversations—if he didn’t take the initiative, others subconsciously held back.
Just like Ye Ling at this moment.
He opened his mouth but ultimately remained silent.
Ye Ling had gone abroad early last year due to some issues and hadn’t returned for an entire year. He missed Lin Song’an immensely. Hoping to spend more time with him during his grandfather’s birthday celebration, he quickly realized something was off.
Lin Song’an was indeed different from before.
He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what had changed, but seeing him frequently glance at his phone left Ye Ling feeling unsettled.
To think that one day, even Lin Song’an would be preoccupied with worldly matters.
Ye Ling found it hard to believe.
After a few rounds of drinks, Ye Ling pulled Lei Xin aside and whispered, “Is Brother Song’an in a relationship?”
Lei Xin waved his hand dismissively. “How could that be?”
“Really not?”
“No way. I’m with him all the time. If he were dating someone, wouldn’t I know?” Lei Xin looked up thoughtfully. “I can’t even imagine what he’d be like in a relationship. It feels like… it feels like…”
“Feels like what?”
After pondering for a while, Lei Xin slapped the table. “It would be like breaking some kind of vow.”
Ye Ling laughed. “I feel the same.”
*
Balancing his sophomore courses with the training base’s program made Tan Ning’s life much busier. He declined new tutoring opportunities offered by parents.
The two students he was currently tutoring had poor foundations, and with only two months left before the college entrance exams, he had his annual guaranteed income project—providing consultation for exam students.
Eight hundred yuan per session.
He scheduled all consultations within a week. During that week, anyone who called him would find the line busy, but fortunately, besides Lin Song’an, few people ever called.
In any case, each year, he filled his life to the brim with classes, tutoring, and courses at the training base. The only headache was dealing with Lin Song’an.
Because Lin Song’an never had fixed times when he wanted to meet.
Once, he suggested setting a schedule, but Lin Song’an raised an eyebrow and asked, “I’m paying you, and I still have to follow your timetable?”
Suppressing his urge to retort, he realized it was silly to talk about dignity in such matters. So he gave up arguing and compromised, saying, “If there’s a scheduling conflict—”
“If there’s a conflict, we’ll go by your schedule.”
With that, Lin Song’an ended the discussion. Satisfied with the outcome, they then drew the curtains and lost themselves in passion. It seemed they couldn’t have a proper conversation.
Their discussions began and ended in bed.
They couldn’t find better topics.
After their encounter one day, Tan Ning turned over to sleep. Lin Song’an wiped him down with a warm towel. During moments like this, Tan Ning unreservedly enjoyed Lin Song’an’s post-intimacy care because Lin Song’an’s needs far exceeded normal transactional limits. He felt the deal wasn’t worthwhile.
Lying down, his legs still trembled.
His chest seemed chafed. He thought he’d need to put on a bandage tomorrow; otherwise, it would hurt to wear clothes.
More troublesome were the hickeys on his neck. It wasn’t winter anymore when high-necked sweaters could hide everything. With early summer arriving and many on campus already wearing short sleeves, he was worried. When Lin approached, he couldn’t help but push him away.
“What’s wrong?” Lin Song’an asked as he moved closer. Too lazy to explain, Tan Ning cooperated by lifting his legs, extending his arms, turning over, all the while thinking: Fortunately, his hair was long enough to reach his shoulders. If he didn’t tie it up, it could cover his neck completely.
As he pondered, Lin Song’an suddenly hugged him from behind, burying his face in his hair, as if reporting, “I went to Shanghai this morning. Spent over three hours round trip. Got stuck in traffic on the way back. I thought I wouldn’t make it today.”
Startled, it took a while for Tan Ning to respond with an “Oh.”
Lin Song’an chuckled and continued, “A bit tired.”
I didn’t see you looking tired at all, Tan Ning thought.
But he only said, “Oh.”
Holding his hand, Lin Song’an leaned against him, and they slept for a while until the doorbell rang.
They both paused for a couple of seconds before sitting up.
Not wanting to wake up, Lin Song’an draped an arm over Tan Ning’s waist, trying to pull him back. But the doorbell rang urgently again.
Simultaneously, Lin Song’an’s phone rang.
It was Ye Ling.
“Brother Song’an, are you home? I’ve come to celebrate your birthday! I made a cake myself!”
Lin Song’an and Tan Ning exchanged glances.
“I see the lights on in your living room. Aren’t you home?” Ye Ling asked, puzzled.
Tan Ning abruptly pushed Lin Song’an away. Lin Song’an looked at him, a barely perceptible frown forming.
He picked up the phone and said, “I’m home.”
Tan Ning shuddered. It seemed Li Song’ann was deliberately watching him squirm. His expression relaxed, his voice calm as he told Ye Ling, “Wait a moment.”
He picked up the scattered clothes from the floor, applied a fresh suppression patch, then left the bedroom to head to the door.
He didn’t concern himself with how Tan Ning would handle the situation.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tan Ning sitting there dazed, his face indifferent but eyes filled with panic.
He was curious to see how Tan Ning would react.
“Ta-da!” Ye Ling held the cake box in front of his face, then moved it aside and smiled at Lin. “A belated birthday wish! Happy birthday, Brother Song’an!”
“Thank you.” Lin Song’an took the cake.
Before Ye Ling could say more, he said, “Ye Ling, I have some things to attend to. I might not be able to entertain you.”
His smiling gaze froze upon seeing the hickeys on his neck.
In the living room, the Spanish-style clock on the wall emitted a faint ticking sound, interweaving with Lin Song’an’s footsteps. The distance from the door to the bedroom wasn’t long.
After perfunctorily dealing with Ye Ling, Lin Song’an realized he had been distracted. The ticking was calm and slow, but his steps toward the bedroom quickened.
There was no one in the bedroom.
The bed was made, sheets neatly folded. Clothes and condom wrappers on the floor had been picked up. The curtains were open, and the window was half-open for ventilation.
It was as if nothing had happened—as if Tan Ning had never been there.
His first thought was that Tan Ning had escaped. But the bedroom’s inward-opening window was narrow; an adult man, especially one like Tan Ning who was 1.79 meters tall, couldn’t fit through. So escaping was unlikely.
He hadn’t seen Tan Ning leave while talking to Ye Ling at the door.
Therefore, Tan Ning must still be in the bedroom.
His gaze shifted to the wardrobe.
A brown wardrobe stood at the foot of the bed. Lin Song’an took a step forward, his fingertips resting on the handle.
Instinctively, he held his breath.
He swung it open, but instead of meeting a panicked gaze as he expected, he saw Tan Ning curled up inside, head down, hugging his knees. He wore his own long-sleeved cotton shirt, revealing his slender neck covered in hickeys.
Tan Ning wasn’t petite; he was taller than most betas, standing at 1.79 meters. His features, especially the lower half of his face, exuded a coldness that kept people at a distance. Yet at this moment, he looked so fragile and pitiful.
“He’s gone,” Lin Song’an said.
Tan Ning didn’t move.
Lin Song’an bent down to hold him. As soon as his hand touched Tan Ning’s waist, Tan Ning forcefully shoved him away, using all his strength. Lin Song’an stumbled back a few steps. When Tan Ning tried to flee, Lin Song’an grabbed him again, throwing him onto the bed. They grappled, pushing each other, nearly getting into a fight.
Catching his breath, Tan Ning glared. Lin grabbed his chin, forcing him to make eye contact.
“Why are you hiding? Why are you angry at me again?”
Tan Ning remained silent.
Lin Song’an gripped him so hard that veins bulged on the back of his hand. “Talk. Silence won’t solve everything.”
“There’s nothing to solve.”
Stunned, Lin Song’an asked, “What?”
“There’s nothing between us that needs resolving. It’s just a financial transaction. If you want to end it, we can do so at any time.”
Author’s Note:
Lin Song’an’s inner journey over the past year: Tan Ning is so beautiful—driven mad by him—He’s so cute—driven mad again—Fine, I’ll give him another chance—driven mad once more.
He’s obviously jealous hahah