5: You Don’t Mind Being My Outlet?
Sheng Shaoyou didn’t expect to see Hua Yong again so soon.
Sheng Fang’s condition had been unstable for a while. That afternoon, Chen Pinming relayed the doctor’s judgment to Sheng Shaoyou—briefly, but clearly: Sheng Fang doesn’t have much time left.
Sheng Shaoyou’s expression was calm, like he was hearing an ordinary report. He merely said, “Got it.”
But only a few hours later, he left the company early.
Given that he’d been working overtime nearly every day, leaving before end-of-day was highly unusual.
Once in the car, his longtime personal driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror and quietly asked for the destination.
Sheng Shaoyou closed his eyes tiredly. “He Ci.”
He Ci Hospital wasn’t far from Shengfang Biotech.
Twenty minutes later, he walked alone through the hospital’s main entrance.
And ran into Hua Yong in the elevator.
When he saw him, Hua Yong was clearly startled—his eyes went wide. But Sheng Shaoyou acted as if he hadn’t seen him, stepping into the elevator without so much as a glance, and pressed the button for the top floor.
Hua Yong wasn’t alone; a doctor in a white coat was speaking to him.
Sheng Shaoyou hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but the elevator was small—every word was perfectly clear.
They were talking about the cost of surgery.
“—The 200,000 yuan you just paid is far from enough. We still need at least another 600,000 upfront. Otherwise, bed 291—” the doctor paused, perhaps realizing how cold it sounded to refer to the patient by bed number in front of family, and corrected himself, “—otherwise your sister’s surgery will have to be postponed…”
That pale face flushed red at once—whether out of shame from being seen in such dire straits again by Sheng Shaoyou, or for some other reason.
After a long silence, Hua Yong spoke, hesitantly pleading, “C-Can we do the surgery first and pay afterward?” He clearly knew how absurd that was to ask of a private hospital. But he was out of options. He kept promising, “I swear, I’ll do everything I can to get the money as soon as possible.”
The doctor looked sympathetic, but still firmly declined: “I’m very sorry, sir. I understand your situation and sympathize deeply, but this is against hospital policy. There’s nothing I can do.”
From the corner of his eye, Sheng Shaoyou saw Hua Yong bowing his head, and guessed he was about to cry again.
…Really? Do everything you can? If you’d really done everything, how could you still not come up with such a small sum? What a waste of that face. Isn’t he good at clinging to Shen Wenlang? Go ahead—grab one of Shen Wenlang’s watches. That alone would cover it.
Hua Yong got off with the doctor on the third floor, his thin figure looking pitiful from behind.
Sheng Shaoyou suddenly remembered—they’d first met on the third floor in the children’s ward. Back then, Hua Yong had also been crying… likely for the same reason: unable to pay for surgery.
His thoughts were interrupted by the elevator’s arrival chime.
—Top floor.
In Sheng Fang’s hospital room, only a young Beta caretaker was present.
Sheng Shaoqing and his brothers had made a show of visiting, but once the audience was gone, they lost interest in keeping up the act.
On the bed, Sheng Fang lay weak and unconscious, an oxygen mask over his face. Over the past year, he was rarely awake—virtually never.
The caretaker bustled around attentively, even bringing Sheng Shaoyou a plate of neatly cut fruit that could rival any upscale shop.
But Sheng Shaoyou had always been wary of flattery. To him, where there was flattery, there was an angle. And he hated people trying to get something from him.
He expressionlessly told the caretaker to leave and sat silently by the bed, looking at the gray hair near Sheng Fang’s temples and the wrinkles on the corners of his eyes—signs of age and mortality that could no longer be hidden.
Life was draining from this body—slowly, imperceptibly fading away.
Sheng Fang was old. Sick. And soon, he would be dead.
Sheng Shaoyou recalled the night before Sheng Fang’s tumor surgery.
He had spoken with all his children, one by one. But in the end, only Sheng Shaoyou remained by his bedside.
His voice had been strong, his spirit high—you wouldn’t have known from looking that he was critically ill. But in his eyes… there had been a rare softness, a hesitation rarely seen.
He had stared quietly at his chosen Alpha heir.
Tall, handsome, with S-class pheromones.
Hardworking, sharp, gifted with a razor-sharp business instinct…
This was his son. His bloodline. His only true masterpiece, born of strict discipline.
Watching Sheng Shaoyou’s nearly indifferent expression, Sheng Fang finally asked:
“Shaoyou, do you hate me?”
He didn’t beat around the bush. It was a question that had lingered for years—one he could now voice, facing the edge of death, just as calmly as he had once asked his wife: “Will you marry me?” and promised her, “I’ll treat you well forever.”
Back then, he’d known his wife loved him and would agree—so he had no fear.
Now, he knew Sheng Shaoyou hated him—and so again, he wasn’t afraid.
Sheng Shaoyou lowered his eyes, silent.
Sheng Fang waited patiently.
But no answer came.
—A refusal to answer was, in itself, an answer.
Sheng Fang didn’t press him. Whether the answer was yes or no no longer mattered.
He withdrew his momentary vulnerability and changed the subject to the practical matter of inheritance.
“How about I leave the company to you?”
Sheng Shaoyou’s expression didn’t change. He asked flatly, “And Sheng Shaoqing?”
If the illegitimate children were a wedge between father and son, then Sheng Shaoqing—only two years younger than Sheng Shaoyou—was the biggest wedge of all.
Sheng Shaoyou’s mother had died young. The other children were technically “out of wedlock,” but Sheng Shaoqing was different—his very existence proved Sheng Fang’s betrayal of his wife.
“You don’t need to worry about that. I set up a cash trust.”
Sheng Fang returned to his old, commanding self. “Shaoqing and the others only know how to drink and play. They don’t understand anything about running a company.” He looked at Sheng Shaoyou like an artist admiring his finest work. “I was harder on you than on your siblings. But in my heart, you were always the one and only heir—”
Strictly raising the legitimate heir, spoiling and ruining the bastards.
Sheng Fang fancied himself farsighted and strategic. But he forgot—just because someone’s useless doesn’t mean they won’t covet the jeweled throne.
When Sheng Shaoyou left the hospital room, the elevator took him back down.
It stopped again on the third floor.
The doors opened—to reveal Hua Yong standing outside, dazed and lifeless.
He looked up and clearly hesitated upon seeing Sheng Shaoyou inside, unsure if he should get in.
As the doors began to close, a hand shot out to stop them.
Ding. The elevator buzzed.
Sheng Shaoyou, brow furrowed, looked annoyed. “Well? Get in already.”
Only then did Hua Yong step inside, looking dazed.
Even after entering, he didn’t speak. He leaned weakly against the wall, eyes down, silent.
This cold indifference to his “savior” grated on Sheng Shaoyou. His eyes bore into Hua Yong’s back. After a while, he said icily, “What a coincidence.”
Hua Yong, trying hard to be invisible, was startled. He turned to see Sheng Shaoyou staring coldly at him.
He forced a polite smile. “Yes, Mr. Sheng. What a coincidence.”
He looked down at his shoes—clearly distracted, but still tried to be courteous. “I heard your father is also hospitalized here. Were you visiting him?”
The founder of Shengfang Biotech being hospitalized had been in the financial news. Still, there were better topics to bring up—asking about the cufflink, for example. Anything would’ve been better than this.
Sheng Shaoyou’s face instantly darkened. His glare said: None of your damn business.
Hua Yong glanced at him briefly, visibly flustered. He seemed to regret stepping on a landmine again.
He bit his lip and lowered his eyes, looking visibly remorseful. He must’ve realized Sheng Fang’s condition was serious—and that he shouldn’t have brought it up.
Sheng Shaoyou sneered inwardly.
This clueless Omega kept setting him off every time they met.
“I was just making conversation. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m sorry if it upset you—”
“—Upset?” Sheng Shaoyou folded his arms, glaring. “Why would I be upset? I’m not the one who can’t pay hospital bills.”
Even he was startled by his own words. He usually kept a cool, tactful facade—but something about Hua Yong always made him snap.
The fragile Omega flinched, stunned by the stab.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
Crap. Was he going to cry again?
Sheng Shaoyou realized this white-orchid-scented, pitiful little Omega somehow always triggered him—made him lose control, act petty, just for the chance to speak to him a bit more.
“You didn’t say anything wrong,” Hua Yong replied, not crying—but visibly disappointed. “I just didn’t expect someone like Mr. Sheng to say something so vulgar.”
Sheng Shaoyou’s chest tightened, as if slapped in public. He ground his teeth in frustration—but didn’t even know at whom.
He forced himself to remain cold. “Even so, I’d still rather be ‘vulgar’ than be a broke, pathetic Omega with no self-respect.”
Being poor might be true—but who said he had no self-respect?!
Hua Yong looked like a wronged mermaid—beautiful, furious, and helpless.
“You—”
Only then did Sheng Shaoyou realize Hua Yong was quite tall—almost his height, despite Sheng being a top-tier Alpha.
But so what? Still a weak Omega, still reliant on Alphas to survive.
Sheng Shaoyou clenched his fists in his pockets and said coldly:
“Seems HS Group doesn’t pay well. As Shen Wenlang’s secretary, you work in the office by day, flirt in the boss’s office by evening, then sell drinks at night—and still can’t scrape together 600,000? …Honestly, Shen Wenlang’s pretty stingy.”
Hua Yong froze. His pupils trembled.
It took all his strength to steady his voice, which still quivered slightly:
“Mr. Sheng, I don’t know what upset you today. But if saying cruel things to me makes you feel better, if it soothes your wounds—then I don’t mind being your outlet.”
Ding—the elevator doors opened.
Without looking back, Hua Yong walked out.
“—Consider it repayment for saving me at Tiandihui.”
Sheng Shaoyou watched him storm off, then… suddenly laughed.
You don’t mind being my outlet?
Did this white-orchid-scented, delicate little Omega even understand what he was saying?
Still… not as meek as expected. Actually kind of feisty.