Ming Luchuan slowly entered Xia Wennan’s office.

The office had the same layout as when Xu Zong was department manager, except the desk was much messier, with all sorts of documents and materials Xia Wennan had printed out strewn all over it.

Xia Wennan brought his beer to the sofa, cracking open the can and tilting his head to chug it down. Xia Wennan let out a contented sigh as the ice-cold liquid passed down his throat and into his stomach.

Ming Luchuan walked up to him, slipped his hands into his pockets, and as he loomed over Xia Wennan, asked, “Why aren’t you eating with everyone else?”

“Because I don’t have enough beer to go around,” Xia Wennan explained. He then continued to stare at Ming Luchuan for a while before standing up and going to the mini-fridge to grab another can of beer, which he then handed to Ming Luchuan. 

Ming Luchuan took it from his hands. 

Xia Wennan sat back down on the sofa. “Drink up.”

Ming Luchuan’s slender fingers curled around the can, and an icy sensation spread across his palm.

Xia Wennan reclined on his side. As the sofa beneath him was only a two-seater, he was forced to bend his legs. He rested his head on the armrest before lifting his cold beer and pressing it against his cheek.

Ming Luchuan, still watching him, said, “Are you not supposed to mind your manners?”

“Why can’t I lie down in my own office?” With all of the time he’d spent around Ming Luchuan, Xia Wennan had unknowingly adopted a casual tone when speaking to him. “You’re in a high position yourself, why not let loose a little?”

Ming Luchuan remained silent. He drank from his can, then walked to the edge of the sofa, perching on the small leftover space by Xia Wennan’s leg. 

As a result, Xia Wennan had no choice but to retract his feet in order to make room for Ming Luchuan. 

For a while, the two men drank their beers in the quiet, air-conditioned office without a single exchange between them. When they ran out of beer, Xia Wennan—still craving more—opened a takeaway app to order another dozen, and later drank until the alcohol clouded his mind.

“Young Master,” he called out to Ming Luchuan. 

Ming Luchuan cast a glance at him. “Who are you calling ‘Young Master’?” 

“Aren’t you Ming Yan’s young master?” asked Xia Wennan. “Your entire family has the surname ‘Ming’. Everyone is ‘President Ming’ around here. Wouldn’t it make more sense to refer to you guys as ‘Young Master’ and ‘Second Young Master’?”

“Are you drunk?”

“No!” Xia Wennan sat up. “I’m not drunk.”

Ming Luchuan looked up. “I’m not Ming Yan’s young master, I’m Ming Luchuan.”

“Ming Luchuan,” Xia Wennan began. “Can I be honest with you?”

Ming Luchuan turned to him. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Xia Wennan. “I know that you want to make something of yourself to show your dad that you—an alpha—can’t be any worse than your omega brother.”

A shadow fell across Ming Luchuan’s face.

Xia Wennan patted his shoulder. “I don’t think you have to be that persistent.”

After a brief pause, Ming Luchuan said, “Then what do you think I should do?”

“Just do what you ought to do,” Xia Wennan advised. “Screw your dad.” After the words left his mouth, Xia Wennan hurriedly added, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to curse.”

Ming Luchuan snorted, but it sounded like a—laugh. 

“Was that a laugh?” Xia Wennan asked.

“It wasn’t,” said Ming Luchuan. 

As Xia Wennan nursed another beer, he slurred out, “The day I succeed in creating pheromone perfumes, I want you all to call me the father of pheromone perfumes.”

Once he finished speaking, Xia Wennan realised how exhausted he actually was. He then closed his eyes, but just a second before they fell shut, he clearly caught a glimpse of Ming Luchuan laughing. 

Xia Wennan took a nap on the sofa, and it was already well past midnight when he awoke. In his empty office, he was the only person left.

The corridor lights were still on when he stepped out of the office, but he could no longer hear the raucous sounds of his colleagues eating their late-night meal. He followed the lights until he arrived at the large office space inside the laboratory, where he found Ming Luchuan sitting alone.

At the desk where Xia Wennan had previously sat, Ming Luchuan was absorbed in a pile of papers. When he heard footsteps, he raised his head and turned to Xia Wennan. 

Ming Luchuan was sitting at the desk where Xia Wennan had sat before, pouring over documents with his head down. Upon registering the sound of footsteps, he lifted his head and turned to Xia Wennan.

“Why are you still here?” asked Xia Wennan. 

“I was waiting for you.” Ming Luchuan sounded as indifferent as usual.

“Why on earth would you do that?”

“I can’t leave you alone,” said Ming Luchuan. 

As he spoke, the night breeze poured in through the windows. When Xia Wennan looked up, he found that all the windows were open, but the air conditioner—which was always running at full blast—had been switched off. 

The breeze carried the scent of grass and flowers that was reminiscent of summertime and, combined with the words Ming Luchuan had just uttered, it made Xia Wennan feel a little disoriented. 

When he looked back at Ming Luchuan, the man had already gotten up, the documents closed. “Shall we get going?” said the man. 

Xia Wennan eventually nodded. 

The two turned off the lights and air conditioning in the lab. They had to descend in the dark because the lighting in the staircase wasn’t properly installed.

Xia Wennan seized Ming Luchuan’s arm. 

“Are you scared?” asked Ming Luchuan. There was no mockery in his voice, and the question was a sincere one.

“No,” denied Xia Wennan. “I just can’t see anything.”

Ming Luchuan let him hold his arm as they descended the stairs. 

Because it was so late, when they exited the laboratory building, only the main road leading to the institute’s front gate was still lit, while the lights lining the small path they usually take had been turned off. 

As Xia Wennan was having trouble seeing their route, he kept his hand in Ming Luchuan’s throughout the entire journey. Hoping to ease some of the awkwardness, Xia Wennan inquired, “Why don’t you have an omega partner?”

“Pardon?” Ming Luchuan didn’t turn around, only throwing out an unhappy response.

“Your omega!” said Xia Wennan. “You know you have it all—you’re rich, you’re the eldest son, and you’re not some shallow idiot who’s only got his looks going for him. Why do you still take suppressants whenever you’re in rut?”

Ming Luchuan came to a complete stop. Although it appeared that he turned to look at Xia Wennan, it was too dark to make out the man’s expression.

“How is that any of your business?” Ming Luchuan said coolly.

“No, I… I’m just making small talk,” said Xia Wennan. “Do you solely rely on suppressants for your ruts, then?”

Ming Luchuan started walking again. “Do you think it’s polite to be talking to me about such private matters?”

Xia Wennan paused. “I thought you guys talked about heats and ruts all the time…” Hearing no response from Ming Luchuan, he tested an apology. “Sorry.”

“It’s not a particularly special topic.” When Ming Luchuan did speak, it was in a tone so flat it sounded almost apathetic. “We’re nothing more than animals led around by pheromones.”

Xia Wennan was surprised. “Is that what you think?”

They had somehow managed to find their way to the institute’s well-lit entrance. “It is,” Ming Luchuan said, letting go of Xia Wennan’s hand. “I don’t like the feeling of being controlled by pheromones. In times like that, there’s no fundamental difference between an omega and suppressants.”

“You’re right,” Xia Wennan said after studying him for a brief moment. “If you don’t have feelings for them, then suppressants are the better option.” He couldn’t help but smile and clap Ming Luchuan’s shoulder after that, saying with feeling, “Then I guess, in that respect, you’re one of the most remarkable alphas I know.”