14: Let’s Not See Each Other Again
Sheng Shaoyou rarely went out to have fun for an evening. He was in a good mood, but seeing the sadness on Hua Yong’s face instantly ruined it, and his expression darkened.
The driver was good at reading the room and immediately found an excuse to leave, leaving Hua Yong alone to face the clearly displeased Sheng Shaoyou.
Hua Yong didn’t ask anything, nor did he say a word. He simply went to the kitchen and brought Sheng Shaoyou a bowl of hangover soup. The ingredients were already at home—Sheng family’s nutritionist came from a traditional medicine background, so ever since Sheng Shaoyou was young, his house had always been filled with medicinal pastes and soups.
There was licorice in the hangover soup, which shouldn’t be bitter, but Sheng Shaoyou found it inexplicably bitter and hard to swallow.
He put down the bowl and tried to lighten the mood, smiling as he made conversation with the little orchid: “Where did you go tonight? How was the dinner party?”
Hua Yong stood in front of the sofa, towering over him, looking down. The living room light was soft, casting half of his face in shadow. His eyes couldn’t be seen clearly, but his lips were set in a straight line, and his expression carried a strange chill that made Sheng Shaoyou uncomfortable.
“A Korean barbecue place. It was fine, not very fun,” Hua Yong replied.
His voice was naturally soft, and he always spoke slowly. It was Sheng Shaoyou’s favorite tone and style of voice. But right now, despite the slow pace, every word carried a strong sense of pressure.
As an S-class Alpha, Sheng Shaoyou felt challenged. His scalp tingled, limbs turned cold, and a chill ran down his spine. Instinctively, he released a faint trace of his oppressive pheromones.
“And you, Mr. Sheng?”
Sheng Shaoyou held back the intensity, keeping the pheromone concentration low. Hua Yong didn’t seem much affected and even stepped a little closer, expressionless as he asked, “It’s so late—where did you go?”
“Don’t ask what you shouldn’t,” Sheng Shaoyou’s face sank. He hated nothing more than Omegas who acted entitled. If it weren’t Hua Yong, who matched his preferences perfectly, he would’ve thrown him out already.
“I shouldn’t ask?” Hua Yong gave a faint smile, his expression growing colder. “That Omega scent is so strong, I could smell it through the door. Mr. Sheng, did you get marked by an Omega?”
Saying an S-class Alpha got marked by an Omega was one of the surest ways to piss them off.
S-class Alphas were natural-born pheromone kings, standing at the top of the biological hierarchy. In modern warfare, their oppressive pheromones were practically biochemical weapons. Even unarmed, an S-class Alpha could bring lower-ranked Alphas and Omegas to their knees with sheer physiological force.
If the pheromone concentration was high enough, even an enemy holding a gun couldn’t pull the trigger—they’d be too weak under the pressure.
And Sheng Shaoyou was one of those Alphas. To say he was marked by an Omega? That was the ultimate insult.
His face turned cold. “Hua Yong,” he said, “don’t forget your place. My business isn’t yours to question.”
Hua Yong stared at him in shock, as if he suddenly didn’t recognize the man in front of him. His eyes were damp, but he still nodded slowly. “You’re right, Mr. Sheng. I’ll head back to my room. Good night.”
He turned to leave, but Sheng Shaoyou grabbed his wrist. A ridiculous thought flashed through his mind: Hua Yong probably hadn’t been asleep at all. The bit of forearm showing outside his robe was cold—like someone who had sat silently for hours waiting.
He had been waiting for Sheng Shaoyou to come home.
Sheng Shaoyou’s heart softened. Thinking Omegas needed to be coaxed, he opened his mouth to try.
But for once, this heartless young master didn’t get the chance. Hua Yong, who looked delicate and stubborn, forcefully pried his fingers off and silently returned to his room.
For the next few days, although they lived under the same roof, Sheng Shaoyou didn’t see him even once.
Breakfast, cookies, and dinner all still appeared punctually on the dining table, but Hua Yong always managed to avoid Sheng Shaoyou completely, as if he had a tracking device installed.
The subtle orchid scent still lingered throughout the apartment, but the person was nowhere to be seen. Sheng Shaoyou endured it for four days. On the fifth day, after returning home from work and seeing only one light left on in the dining area and no one else around, he exploded. He slammed the door so hard it shook the walls.
Then he stormed out.
Goddamn it. Who was he giving the cold shoulder to? If you don’t want to see me, fine! You over-sensitive little drama queen—go bother someone else! I’m done playing babysitter!
But before he got very far, his phone buzzed.
He glanced at it. It was a message from Hua Yong.
Hua Style Swimming: “Mr. Sheng, thank you very much for taking care of me these past days.”
His furious strides halted. His right eye twitched uncontrollably. He scrolled down and saw more gut-punching words.
Hua Style Swimming: “After thinking it over, I realized I’ve been imposing on you. I’ve found another place to stay. Dinner is on the table. I’ll be moving out tonight. I’ll repay the money as scheduled, but if there’s nothing important… let’s not see each other again.”
Moving out? Where to? Where the hell else could he possibly go?
The door that had just been slammed shut was opened again three minutes later, this time by the apartment’s owner, his face even darker.
The living room light was on now. Hua Yong was wearing Sheng Shaoyou’s favorite pale high-neck sweater, standing at the doorway. Half his face hidden in the collar. He looked surprised when he turned around and saw Sheng Shaoyou come back.
Sheng Shaoyou glanced at his stunned face, then at the suitcase in his hand. His expression grew even darker.
“Where are you going?”
“Mr. Sheng,” Hua Yong mumbled. After a few days of not seeing him, he looked thinner again. The wrist poking out of his sleeve seemed even more fragile, knuckles red from gripping the suitcase too tightly. He looked pitiful, like a stray animal being thrown back onto the streets by an indifferent foster caretaker.
He had left without a word, and yet he looked like he was the one being abandoned.
“I just wanted to thank you in person,” he said softly, his lips still carrying the trace of where Sheng Shaoyou had kissed them hard not long ago. “Thank you for taking care of me. Goodbye, Mr. Sheng.” Then, pulling his suitcase, he turned to leave without looking back.
Sheng Shaoyou leaned on the doorframe, hands in his pockets, pretending not to care. But just as Hua Yong stepped past the door, he said coldly:
“Come and go as you please. What do you take my place for, a homeless shelter?”
Hua Yong looked back at him, eyes red. That little stray looked like he regretted ever choosing Sheng Shaoyou’s spare apartment over a real shelter.
“Sorry,” he set down his suitcase and asked softly, voice nasal from tears, “Then… what do you want me to do?”
What did he want?
Sheng Shaoyou frowned and thought for a moment. What he wanted was simple.
He wanted Hua Yong to stay obediently in the place he’d designated. He wanted Hua Yong to wait at home for him every day. To make breakfast, bake little cookies, and cook dinner.
He wanted Hua Yong to tell him to drive safely in the morning, video call him during lunch, and ask what he ate. At night, after they had dinner together, Hua Yong would clear the dishes and chat about his day, discuss whether the soup needed more salt…
For this, Sheng Shaoyou was willing to tolerate boring domestic life. He’d find joy in the ordinary, because of Hua Yong.
He wanted Hua Yong to become part of this home. Like a flower in a vase. Yes—like an orchid that never leaves, quietly decorating his days and heart.
Because Hua Yong was beautiful, gentle, and seemed to genuinely like and rely on him. His presence made Sheng Shaoyou’s life better. When he wasn’t sulking, Hua Yong made every day joyful.
So Sheng Shaoyou didn’t want to let him go.
Hua Yong stood not far away, staring at him with a cold, stiff face, his usual warmth replaced with icy detachment.
No one had ever looked at Sheng Shaoyou like this. Not to mention—it was Hua Yong doing it. His heart clenched.
“What do I want? You think it’s all up to what I want?” His voice came out harsh.
Hua Yong’s expression dimmed. His eyes dropped to the floor. “No. If seeing each other is going to be like this, then let’s not see each other.”
“Why?” Sheng Shaoyou crossed his arms, sneered: “Tired of this chaste kissing-only romance? Or have you found an Alpha willing to give you a permanent mark?”
Hua Yong looked up at once, shocked, eyes filling with tears. “No,” he croaked, his throat tight with hurt.
That caught Sheng Shaoyou off guard. He straightened his back off the doorframe, awkwardly clearing his throat. “Hey…”
Those delicate tears confirmed it again—Hua Yong was still the Omega he liked most. One glance at his tears made Sheng Shaoyou’s chest ache.
He was beautiful when he cried. His choked voice sounded like some mournful note coming from the back of his throat.
“I can’t keep doing this…” Hua Yong whispered, “Because I really like you.”
Like… me?
Sheng Shaoyou stared at him, unsure how to respond.
You want to stop seeing me because you like me? What kind of crap logic is that?
But Hua Yong looked like he meant it. His eyes, his pain, all of it seemed genuine.
He wept silently, yet it hit Sheng Shaoyou harder than any ex’s breakup tantrum.
“I don’t want to be like this anymore,” he said tearfully. “Because I love you so much, when I imagine you holding another Omega, I feel ugly with jealousy. I become someone I don’t even recognize…” Tears fell, shining trails across the corners of his lips. His bitter voice said, “I’m so awful… So Mr. Sheng, let’s end it here. Let’s not see each other again. I’ll wish you happiness from afar.”
Wish me… happiness?
The orchid, covered in dew-like tears, turned to leave—only to be yanked back by Sheng Shaoyou.
“We’re not done talking. Where do you think you’re going?”
“I said everything,” Hua Yong struggled, trying to pull his wrist free.
But Sheng Shaoyou held firm. “I didn’t agree.”
The struggling eased. Hua Yong looked at him in shock, eyes wide.
This was the most patient Sheng Shaoyou had ever been in a relationship. He lowered his voice to coax him: “It’s cold out. Come inside, let’s talk.”
Hua Yong shook his head. Gripping his suitcase tightly, he said, “Say what you want here.”
This little orchid had grown a spine.
Sheng Shaoyou, rendered speechless, still held back his temper. “It’s not something you can explain in a sentence or two. Don’t be stubborn. Come home.”
In the end, he managed to coax the runaway orchid back inside.
Once the door closed, Sheng Shaoyou sighed in relief.
Hua Yong sat on a high chair by the kitchen island, head down, silent.
Sheng Shaoyou walked over. He didn’t look up, his chin tucked into the collar, nose tip flushed red—looking pitiful.
Sheng Shaoyou—almighty, arrogant, rich—poured him a glass of hot water.
Hua Yong took it with a soft, “Thank you, Mr. Sheng,” still not looking at him.
Sheng Shaoyou missed the way he used to smile when he said that. It hadn’t even been that long, but it felt like ages.
The orchid was probably embarrassed too—for crying over Sheng Shaoyou’s well-known promiscuity. Now he had no more tears left. The steam rising from the cup made his gaze soften again. Sheng Shaoyou melted a little inside, thinking, Next time I sleep with someone else… maybe I’ll shower before coming home. Don’t want him to cry again.
Hua Yong knew full well that Sheng Shaoyou’s promise to “talk later” was just a stall. They had nothing more to say. Besides that fleeting affection, Sheng Shaoyou had nothing to offer.
No commitment. No marking. Not even the lie of loyalty.
Because Sheng Shaoyou was the kind of Alpha who refused to be tied down. Tender when he wanted to be, but ruthless when it didn’t suit him.
He was a wandering lover with average taste, more exes than a football team, and a lifestyle Hua Yong hated most—sleeping with people he didn’t even like.
But Sheng Shaoyou, for all his flaws, had a soft heart when it mattered.
And more importantly… he didn’t want Hua Yong to leave.
And that made it impossible for Hua Yong to let go.
Those who journey a hundred miles often stumble at the last ten.
Life is like that. So is love.
If you never take a risk, you’ll end up with nothing.
And Hua Yong had always been the kind of person who bides his time and endures.
Because he knew—he would win.