74: He Stood Atop the Pinnacle of Genetic Evolution as an Enigma — Yet Here and in This Life, He Would Only Bow Before His Beloved
Shen Wenlang waited at the restaurant until one o’clock.
Gao Ming still didn’t come.
The phone rang through but went unanswered.
Sitting in a humble, affordable restaurant — the kind he’d never ordinarily set foot in — Shen Wenlang was so anxious he couldn’t sit still. But he didn’t dare leave.
He was afraid that if Gao Tu arrived and didn’t see him, he’d leave again — disappear without a trace.
Thankfully, at 1:15, Gao Ming finally came through the door.
Shen Wenlang, his heart ablaze with urgency, feigned calm but his pulse drummed in his ears. He nearly rose, craning his neck to look behind Gao Ming.
And sure enough — following behind Gao Ming this time, was Gao Tu.
Yet Shen Wenlang did not feel relieved.
Because Gao Tu was walking very slowly, looking deeply unwilling — unwilling to see Shen Wenlang again, outside of a work context, after resigning.
That resistant, almost pained expression was like needles in Shen Wenlang’s heart.
Hua Yong’s words came true all at once.
After severing their employment relationship, Gao Tu really no longer listened to him.
Not only that — even seeing him became this difficult.
Gao Tu no longer replied promptly to his WeChat messages, no longer tried to meet his every demand.
He even went so far as to cancel his phone number to avoid contact.
It had taken all Shen Wenlang’s effort to arrange this lunch through Gao Ming, wanting to talk properly — yet Gao Tu deliberately showed up late, making him wait an entire hour.
Gao Tu was infuriating!
Yet Shen Wenlang still couldn’t help but think of him, long to see him, be willing to wait, hoping he’d appear, and afraid he wouldn’t.
The tangled feelings of waiting churned in his chest like a knotted ball of string, dragging his heart and guts into a mess.
That long hour felt like being roasted alive.
When Gao Tu finally arrived, it was like a splash of water on glowing coals — the fire hissed out, but choking smoke filled his lungs, leaving him speechless.
Gao Tu looked worse than before — paler and thinner than even when he’d resigned or when Shen Wenlang had seen him at the hospital under the pretense of visiting an employee.
For some reason, Gao Tu wasn’t wearing glasses today, revealing bright eyes normally hidden behind lenses.
Perhaps because he didn’t want to have this meal, he walked into the restaurant like a frightened rabbit — humiliated, flustered.
He really won’t come back with me.
That realization made Shen Wenlang’s heart curl tight. The bitter ache made his carefully-maintained cold expression even uglier.
After hours of travel from Jianghu, his shirt was a little rumpled and his cuffs stained from the greasy table.
Shen Wenlang quickly adjusted his appearance, feeling a strange, electric kind of nervousness — as though Gao Tu wasn’t his former employee, but an interviewer about to decide his fate.
This strange, electric nervousness was unprecedented.
And yet, though torn by the question of whether Gao Tu would agree to return, Shen Wenlang still felt a faint happiness at seeing him again.
Compared to Shen Wenlang’s mix of hope and worry, Gao Tu felt nothing but crushing heaviness.
Step by step, he walked into the restaurant like a man going to his execution.
The grim premonition knotted his stomach into spasms.
His glasses had been smashed earlier during a heated confrontation.
Without them, he couldn’t see clearly, yet he still recognized Shen Wenlang at a glance in this cheap, homey restaurant.
That Alpha was still the same — standing out like a pearl among stones.
Gao Tu wanted desperately to avoid what was coming, so he dragged his feet.
But aside from the hopeless dead-end path to that Alpha’s heart, every other road in the world eventually ends.
His pace was so slow, so hard, that Shen Wenlang could hardly bear to watch — yet forced himself to sit still.
“Boss Shen,” Gao Ming said with a fawning smile. “Sorry, this kid got held up for a bit.”
“Is that so?” Shen Wenlang asked, eyes fixed on Gao Tu’s face.
But Gao Tu pressed his lips together, kept his gaze down, neither looking at nor speaking to him.
Instead, Gao Ming awkwardly answered for him:
“Yes, really sorry.”
Seeing Shen Wenlang still here, Gao Ming became even more convinced.
He was certain Shen Wenlang already knew — knew that Gao Tu was carrying his child.
Why else would such a powerful man humble himself to wait patiently here for a former subordinate?
“Boss Shen said he wanted to speak to Gao Tu. I’ve brought him — so now…”
Hands cold, ears roaring — beyond that opening exchange, Gao Tu heard nothing.
“Gao Tu is pregnant. It’s yours.”
At that blunt declaration, Gao Tu’s heart skipped.
Even though he’d known this meeting would be to lay it all out, he still felt as though he were dreaming.
He lifted his head in a daze, and his eyes met Shen Wenlang’s.
That man’s face remained cold and indifferent — as though hearing that a former employee was pregnant with his child was the most ordinary thing in the world.
Shen Wenlang might have a foul temper and a sharp tongue, but in serious matters he was unshakable — a man who could watch a mountain collapse without batting an eye.
Expressionless, he sat opposite him — in the little restaurant Gao Tu had once dreamt of bringing him to, if ever they could be equals, if ever he could call him a friend.
Today he’d half-realized that dream.
Shen Wenlang had indeed come — but his expression was nothing like what Gao Tu had hoped for.
Others might see nothing but aloofness.
But Gao Tu, having watched him so long, could easily read the suspicion, distrust, and disdain beneath it.
“If you want us to abort, it’s ten million — not a cent less,” Gao Ming said.
Gao Tu’s eyes burned, his throat closed up, and his lower belly cramped painfully — as if the innocent little baby inside him was protesting, protesting its worth being so easily priced.
Shen Wenlang seemed to say something — but Gao Tu couldn’t hear it.
Blood rushed to his head, roaring like a freight train.
He stood, chair scraping harshly behind him, but he didn’t care.
“Sorry, I need the restroom,” he murmured.
Shen Wenlang rose too — but Gao Ming stopped him.
“Let him go,” Gao Ming said. “It’s cruel to discuss aborting a baby in front of the Omega. Better to settle the terms before he comes back.”
Shen Wenlang wanted to shove him aside and chase after Gao Tu, to ask what this meant — but compared to his slow, reluctant entrance, Gao Tu’s exit was fast and desperate, like a rabbit fleeing for its life.
That panicked flight made Shen Wenlang reluctant to give chase.
That evening, Sheng Shaoyou was unusually busy, finishing work only at eight.
According to Hua Yong, the broken water pipes at home had been repaired under his urging — they could sleep there tonight.
On the drive home, his secretary Chen Pinming handed him the phone and said helplessly:
“Sir, it’s the chairman.”
Leaning back, eyes closed, Sheng Shaoyou answered lazily:
“Hang up.”
“But the chairman instructed me to make sure you answer.”
He opened his eyes, smirking:
“Last I checked, he’s not the Emperor of Qin.”
Even as he mocked him, Sheng Fang wasn’t angry, patiently waiting.
In the end, Chen Pinming had no choice but to turn on speakerphone.
Sheng Fang had been trying to reach him for days, leaving countless messages — all ignored.
“Shaoyou,” came his father’s voice at last, clearing his throat. “I won’t oppose you and Hua Yong anymore. From now on, treat each other well.”
Sheng Shaoyou froze.
“What?”
“That child Hua is quite good.”
“What are you getting at?”
“I agree to your marriage. But if he ever mistreats you, tell me — the Sheng family won’t stand for it.”
Sheng Shaoyou sneered.
“You planning to be Lord Bao now? Just take care of your health — don’t worry about me.”
“When will you marry?”
“We’ll see.”
“But Ah Yong said—”
“What? You meet him once and you’re already chummy? What did he tell you?”
“You should’ve told me sooner,” Sheng Fang said. “Clearly Ah Yong is the owner of X Holdings, yet you kept me in the dark, disrespecting him.”
Sheng Shaoyou suddenly understood — and laughed coldly.
“If you could treat everyone politely, why would you have disrespected your Ah Yong?”
When he arrived home, it was already dark.
Normally, as long as Hua Yong was home, he’d leave a light on for him.
But tonight was different — the living room was pitch black.
Sheng Shaoyou called out but got no reply.
As he stepped barefoot into the hall and flipped the light switch, nothing happened.
What the hell?
Maybe the broken pipes had caused a short circuit.
And Hua Yong probably wasn’t home.
He pulled out his phone to call — and heard the ringtone coming from the bedroom.
Carrying the phone toward the door, he called:
“Hua Yong?”
No response.
“Weird — where’d you go?”
Before he finished, a warm light suddenly flared inside.
One by one, cool lights on the bed lit up, forming a huge, bright heart.
Sheng Shaoyou froze.
It looked like something out of a cheesy drama — the kind of stunt used to woo a female Omega.
As an S-class Alpha, he’d never imagined someone would use this on him.
But to say he disliked it — that would be a lie.
Because though the method was old-fashioned, the young man standing there — holding white flowers, smiling in the soft glow — was exactly his type.
“Mr. Sheng, will you marry me?” Hua Yong asked gently.
His snow-pale cheeks glowed in the light, soft hair falling over his forehead, eyes shining.
His gaze was warm, urging Sheng Shaoyou not to refuse.
Walking over, Sheng Shaoyou lightly touched the fresh flowers and asked:
“Why aren’t you marrying me?”
Hua Yong immediately nodded.
“I’ll marry you.”
“Whether you marry me or I marry you — as long as it’s you, it doesn’t matter.”
The master of X Holdings, the uncrowned king of P Country, looked at him with burning eyes and spoke in the most submissive tone:
“Mr. Sheng, I love you, I was born for you.”
He knelt on one knee, holding out the rings.
In the room he’d decorated himself, he held his beloved Alpha’s hand and asked solemnly:
“Will you marry me, Mr. Sheng?”
—He stood atop the pinnacle of genetic evolution as an Enigma. Yet here and in this life, he would only bow before his beloved.
Sheng Shaoyou looked at him — at that beautiful orchid — at the platinum rings in his hands.
“What else have you lied to me about?” he said.
“Better confess before I decide to settle the score.”
“I’m not really much of a crier,” Hua Yong confessed softly.
“It’s hard to fake tears.”
“And?”
“I don’t actually have a little sister.”
“Then whose sister was that?”
“Secretary Gao’s.”
“And by the way — you never had pheromone disorder. I used lures to force your heat.”
“…One more lie and I’ll kill you.”
Hua Yong smiled, nodded:
“Okay. I won’t dare again.”
Sheng Shaoyou crouched down, slipped the larger ring onto his own finger, and met Hua Yong’s eyes.
Smiling faintly, he said:
“From now on — Mrs. Sheng.”
Hua Yong was ruthless, cunning, and unscrupulous —
But he truly loved Sheng Shaoyou.
And Sheng Shaoyou loved him just as much.
No less.