Pretending to Be an Alpha in an All-Alpha Boy Band - Chapter 21
Chapter 21 Family Dinner
With the whole group’s eager concern, Zhuang He decided to take Pei Yanbing to the hospital for a checkup. Also, since this assignment had gone smoothly, everyone was given the day off after work and would return to work the day after tomorrow.
A break was the happiest thing.
This industry had no fixed rest times; when it got busy, it was nearly year-round. They had to make the most of a rare day off.
“What are you planning to do? Why don’t we go shopping together?”
“Sure! Let’s catch a movie, have hotpot, and there’s a new milk-tea shop in the mall—I’ve heard it’s really good!”
“You guys go on ahead. I’m exhausted. I’m going to stay home and sleep all day…”
Workers aren’t afraid of being busy; they’re afraid of being busy and underpaid. Starry Night Entertainment was busy, but the pay was good, with various allowances, overtime pay, and bonuses, and there was none of the messy office politics.
Colleagues got along well; some became friends, and a few even started dating.
Yuan Shiyuan was surprised when he found out.
Bo Jin: “What’s so surprising?”
Yuan Shiyuan: “There’s a saying about the workplace: if someone is very happy at work there are only four possibilities. First, they’re about to quit; second, they’re newly hired; third, they’re gone mad; and fourth, they’ve developed a crush on a coworker.”
“I used to work part-time, and my coworkers and I used to say the fourth case was the real crazy one. When work’s so stressful every day, how could you suddenly fall for a coworker and start dating them?”
Bo Jin disagreed, “That’s not necessarily true.”
“Mm, maybe feelings can grow over time, that’s possible too.” Anyway, Yuan Shiyuan couldn’t imagine himself liking a coworker.
Bo Jin asked curiously, “You’ve done a lot of part-time jobs before? You’re so young…”
“Don’t underestimate me, okay?”
Bo Jin leaned against the wardrobe and watched Yuan Shiyuan crouch by the suitcase, sorting his clothes.
Had Yuan Shiyuan really done a lot of part-time work? He was clearly young… but he had high emotional intelligence; even the stiffest atmosphere would liven up around him. Or perhaps it was because he had an innate warmth and magnetism that made people want to be near him.
They wanted to hear him speak.
Only the rustle of clothes being packed filled the dorm room. Bo Jin’s gaze fell to the wardrobe across from him, where a tagged pajama set hung.
It was the pajama set he had given Yuan Shiyuan.
But Yuan Shiyuan had never worn it; he kept it carefully stored in the wardrobe, which showed how much he cherished it.
Bo Jin thought about whether he should buy Yuan Shiyuan some new clothes. After all, Yuan’s wardrobe was sparse, and it’s normal for friends to buy clothes for each other, right?
If he was going to buy clothes for Yuan Shiyuan, maybe they should go shopping and catch a movie—he’d just heard from the staff that the mall had a new milk-tea shop, and it sounded delicious…
Yuan Shiyuan liked sweets; he probably would like it.
Yuan Shiyuan quickly tidied up his toiletries and then clipped a fluffy little plush toy to the side of his backpack.
He put on a mask and a hat, slung the backpack over one shoulder. “I’m heading out now. See you the day after tomorrow, bro.”
“…??”
Bo Jin stepped in front of him. “Where are you going?”
“Aren’t we off tomorrow? I’m going home.”
“You’re going home?”
“I can’t just stay in the company dorm staring at you,” Yuan Shiyuan said. “Of course I have other things to do.”
So Yuan Shiyuan had never intended to stay from the start.
Bo Jin looked at him and said, “If you’re going home, why didn’t you take your pajamas with you?”
“I did take them,” Yuan Shiyuan said, puzzled.
“The one I gave you.” Bo Jin said coldly, “You didn’t bring it, you’ve never worn it, you haven’t even taken the tag off.”
“You said you’d wear it for me.”
Yuan Shiyuan was exasperated!
How long ago was that? Back when they first met, he was only trying to get close, to put on a show of friendly camaraderie for the cameras.
“I would wear it,” Yuan Shiyuan pulled down his mask, showing a helpless expression. “But do you know how big you are? You could lift me with one hand. Your pajama size is so large the top could be a dress on me.”
“If I actually wore your pajamas, I might as well just wear the top with nothing underneath,” he demonstrated the hem length with a gesture, his fingers brushing the middle of his thigh. “But that wouldn’t do. Drafty—no sense of security.”
Bo Jin’s breath suddenly caught.
He pictured the scene: Yuan Shiyuan wearing only his pajamas, long legs barely visible beneath the hem…
Bo Jin’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he said, “Oh, so that’s it.”
“Alright, contact me on WeChat if anything comes up.” Yuan Shiyuan put his mask back on and, eager to leave, said casually, “I’ll miss you.”
“Really?”
“Really, really.”
Yuan Shiyuan left quickly. “I’m off.”
The dorm felt empty in an instant.
Even the scent in the room seemed to fade.
Yuan Shiyuan’s offhand goodbye made Bo Jin look extremely awkward. After a long moment, he walked to Yuan Shiyuan’s bed.
There was still the lingering scent in Yuan Shiyuan’s hair.
Bo Jin suddenly thought of the pajama set in the wardrobe.
He had bought the pajamas to his measurements and hadn’t taken into account that Yuan Shiyuan was smaller—an oversight on his part.
But he didn’t want to buy Yuan Shiyuan a tight, form-fitting size.
Bo Jin naturally thought his own size would be fine.
Yuan Shiyuan could just wear the top—after all, his legs were so nice, and they were all alphas; showing his legs in front of him was no big deal.
When Yuan Shiyuan went down the stairs, he sent a message to the doctor.
This was his mother’s attending physician; they often communicated about her condition online.
The doctor seemed busy and replied with a voice message after a while: “Xiao Yuan, don’t worry—your mother’s situation looks optimistic. The surgery can proceed as scheduled.”
Surgery? As scheduled?
Yuan Shiyuan tightened his grip on his phone. How did he not know his mother was having surgery? No one had told him.
The automatic glass doors opened. Yuan Shiyuan saw Xiao Huang standing by the entrance, looking down at something and chuckling to himself.
As Yuan Shiyuan approached, Xiao Huang immediately put his phone away. Bo Jin laughed: “Xiao Huang, you’re too naughty—change your name to Big Huang!”
Xiao Huang lowered his head in embarrassment.
“Just joking. Thanks for your hard work these past few days.” Yuan Shiyuan thought for a moment, pulled a handful of candy from his backpack, and popped one into Xiao Huang’s palm.
As he was leaving, he turned back and smiled at Xiao Huang, “Get a good rest tomorrow. See you the day after.”
On the subway, Yuan Shiyuan pieced together the whole story.
Yuan Xing’s surgery was scheduled for next week. She and her husband had asked the doctor not to tell Yuan Shiyuan, but the doctor, pressed for time, let it slip.
When Yuan Shiyuan arrived at the hospital, Father Yuan was already there.
As the ward door opened, Father Yuan, wearing his law firm suit, was pacing in front of the bed. He had been showing off in front of his wife, but when he saw his son at the doorway, his expression shifted immediately.
Father Yuan spread his arms: “Well? Is Daddy handsome or what?”
“Don’t you even look whose dad it is—of course you are.” Yuan Shiyuan arched an eyebrow, set his backpack on the small sofa beside him, “Though there is a small problem.”
“What problem?”
“The doctor said Mom’s surgery is next week. How come I didn’t know?”
The ward fell silent.
The couple looked at each other like children who’d been caught misbehaving.
“We were just worried something might go wrong,” they sighed. “You and Xiao Ze are still in school… we didn’t want to affect you, didn’t want you to worry.”
“And the doctor said the success rate is very high. We thought we’d tell you after the surgery if it went well, it would be the same.”
No matter how skilled, no doctor can guarantee a 100% success rate—especially with a glandular operation. They were afraid of complications, so they had decided together to keep it from him.
“I know you were afraid I’d worry.” Yuan Shiyuan crouched by the bed and smoothed the wrinkles in the blanket. “But we’re family, right?”
“We can’t ever abandon each other. That’s what family is.” He looked at his mother in the bed. “I want to be by your side when you’re most scared and need someone with you. Mom.”
Yuan Xing burst into tears.
Father Yuan fumbled to wipe his wife’s eyes and, putting his arm around her shoulders, said, “Yuanyuan is right. This time it was Daddy and Mommy’s mistake. We’re sorry.”
“We shouldn’t have hidden it from you, nor should we have assumed we knew what was best.” They said earnestly, “Sorry—can you forgive us?”
“Since it’s your first offense, I forgive you.” Yuan Shiyuan finished, then, in a tone that was hard to coax, made a request, “But I want an extra dish for dinner.”
Father Yuan ruffled his son’s soft pink hair and laughed, “Okay. Whatever you want, just put it in the group chat. I’ll go buy the ingredients and take over the kitchen.”
Once Father Yuan left, Yuan Xing yawned. Seeing her growing drowsy, Yuan Shiyuan reached over and turned off another lamp.
The doctor had advised Yuan Xing to stay cheerful and get plenty of rest lately, but the closer the operation drew, the more anxious and sleepless he became.
Yuan Shiyuan chatted quietly, “Where’s Xiao Ze? Why hasn’t he arrived?”
“He’s probably still on his way. His school scheduled some sort of test; he had to go back for it.” Yuan Xing sounded worried. “I don’t even know how Xiao Ze is doing out at the base…”
Yuan Shize, Yuan Shiyuan’s younger brother, should have been in the first year of high school but had skipped grades up to the third year. Not only was Yuan Shize excellent academically, he also had astounding talent in e-sports.
At first, Yuan Xing and her husband disapproved of Yuan Shize going into e-sports, but when he was determined, they eventually agreed.
Yuan Shiyuan didn’t talk with his mother for long before she fell asleep. He turned off another light and went to the small family rest room beside the ward.
He’d been busy with work these past few days and hadn’t checked his WeChat.
He’s well-liked, and now his message list was all red dots, stretching too far to scroll to the bottom.
Dorm group chat:
Roommate A: Yuanzi, this photo of you is kinda pretty, I must buy it. [strive][magazine jpg]
Roommate B: No kidding—our A University campus belle and stud are all him, of course he’s pretty. Yuanzi is the dream lover of millions of ABOs!
Roommate C: Damn, this photographer is terrible—how did he make our Yuanzi look so short, like a little figurine. [group photo of Yuan Shiyuan surrounded by a bunch of S-rank alphas.jpg]
Little figurine? Yuan Shiyuan was speechless!
Am I that short?
Roommate A: Don’t you dare diss my Yuanzi. [furious]
Roommate B: You don’t get it. It’s because the others are so tall and big, they make him look tiny by comparison.
Roommate C: Yuanbao, promise me you won’t let the alphas in your group touch you, okay? They don’t look like good people.
Roommate A: I think the goddess being chased looks just like that.
Yuan Shiyuan didn’t speak in the group; they knew he was probably busy, and sometimes teasingly @him. He finished reading the messages and couldn’t help laughing.
“Okay, okay, I definitely won’t let them touch me.” He sent a voice message, then added, “Actually, they’re pretty nice people.”
Yuan Shiyuan scrolled his phone for a moment when the door was quietly opened. He put his phone down and exclaimed in surprise, “What pig feed have you been eating, kid?”
They hadn’t seen each other for a while—how had Yuan Shize gotten so tall?!
The boy in his school uniform already had broader shoulders than Yuan Shiyuan. He set his backpack aside and bent down in front of Yuan Shiyuan. “Bro, now you’re taller than me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous—let me live in happy denial, will you.” Yuan Shiyuan pulled Yuan Shize close. “Did the school schedule differentiation testing today? How did it go?”
Yuan Shize didn’t answer.
After a long pause, he wrapped his arms around his brother’s waist, rested his head on Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulder, and mumbled, “Bro.”
“What do you want me to differentiate into?”
Yuan Shiyuan: “Anything’s fine—ABO are all good. No matter what sex you are, you’re my good little brother.”
He ruffled his brother’s head. “Don’t put too much pressure on yourself.”
But Yuan Shize insisted on an answer: “Which sex do you prefer?”
“I treat all sexes equally.”
“I meant your sexual orientation.”
Yuan Shiyuan grabbed a fistful of Yuan Shize’s hair: “What are you saying? Of course I like Omegas—I’m an Alpha.”
Yuan Shize’s thin lips compressed.
He leaned back onto Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulder and said without sound: liar.
Saying you treat them equally, when you clearly prefer Omegas.
Worry filled Yuan Shize’s eyes; the differentiation report showed a 97% chance he’d become an Alpha…
The boy in the blue-and-white uniform already displayed the broad bones typical of an Alpha. Even leaning with his head bowed on Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulder, his shoulders were noticeably wider.
“Bro.” He said again, “I miss you so much.”
Yuan Shiyuan let Yuan Shize lie with his head on his lap and tousled his hair. “The boys in puberty are starting to have wild thoughts, huh? Or are you in a puppy love?”
“No! I’m not!”
Yuan Shize fell silent for a moment. He gripped Yuan Shiyuan’s hand and pressed it to the side of his face. “I’m really worried.”
“I hope I differentiate into a Beta.” He tilted his head up and said earnestly.
“That’s fine, Betas are great too,” Yuan Shiyuan said. “No matter what sex you are, you’re my good little brother.”
Yuan Shize was acting unusually clingy today—perhaps one of those pre-differentiation signs: hypersensitivity, suspicion, lack of security.
Besides, they were both adopted, and their personalities had been shaped, more or less, by life in the welfare institute. But Yuan Shiyuan was okay—he adapted quickly and was more outgoing.
Yuan Shize wasn’t the same. When he first came to this family he was like a stressed animal, unable to trust anyone. Except Yuan Shiyuan.
He had stuck to Yuan Shiyuan since he was little.
Maybe because they were both adopted and had both been abandoned by their first families, they—sharing the same past—could keenly sense each other’s subtle emotions, like two small animals licking each other’s wounds.
Later Yuan Shiyuan learned that Yuan Shize had often been bullied at the welfare institute, which made him especially sensitive.
That reminded Yuan Shiyuan of a good friend he had met at the institute.
In the welfare institute there had been a black-haired boy who couldn’t speak and was constantly shoved around and mocked. He even had a silver earring knocked out. One day Yuan Shiyuan came across a bullying scene: he grabbed a slingshot and rushed over, beating the lead bully until the kid apologized on the spot.
From that time on, they became close friends. Though they had no names, they lived like family. The black-haired boy would always give him snacks and milk, and at night they’d squeeze together on a tiny bed folding paper planes, sharing each other’s secrets.
The black-haired boy wrote crookedly with a pen, and told him that the earring was the only keepsake his mother had left him.
When he learned that Yuan Shiyuan was going to be adopted, the black-haired boy didn’t react much at first. But that night Yuan Shiyuan woke up groggy and found the back of his hand damp and warm—he realized the other boy had been crying.
The next day the black-haired boy stuffed a small plush into his hand; it was something he had saved up for a long time to buy.
Through the car window, Yuan Shiyuan watched the black-haired boy run after the car for a very long time; he hurriedly waved him off so he wouldn’t follow. The rain was pouring, but the black-haired boy stubbornly kept chasing, as if he needed one more look to make sure he wouldn’t forget his friend’s face.
The rain was so heavy that Yuan Shiyuan couldn’t see clearly from inside the car—he only knew the silver earring on the boy’s ear shone brightly.
That day was the last time they saw each other.
After that, they completely lost contact.
When Father Yuan brought dinner into the small room, Yuan Xing was waking up too. The two of them both looked toward the little sofa, where the little plush hung from Yuan Shiyuan’s backpack.
Yuan Xing smiled: “Why did you bring Little Yuanbao to the company dorm too?”
“I get scared staying somewhere unfamiliar overnight.” Yuan Shiyuan pinched his little plush. “This time I’m going home, I want to bring my Yuanbao home with me too.”
Father Yuan, arranging the tableware, chuckled: “You’re a little treasure yourself and you named a plush that too.”
They all knew one of Yuan Shiyuan’s little habits.
He liked giving names to things that had kept him company for a long time—as if once something had a name it would gain a soul and become a friend, not just an object.
At the table, Yuan Shize quietly pulled out a chair for Yuan Shiyuan and helped him sit. He then passed him chopsticks, served him rice, and poured him a glass of juice.
Father Yuan gave a thumbs up: “If there were rankings of good younger brothers in the world, Xiao Ze would definitely be number one.”
Yuan Xing: “When YuanYuan was little and afraid of shots, it was still Xiao Ze who covered his eyes.”
“Hey, hey, don’t say that at the table.” Yuan Shiyuan’s ear tips flushed instantly; under the table he gently kicked Yuan Shize’s calf, prompting him to say something.
Yuan Shize calmly picked up a piece of sweet-and-sour rib for Yuan Shiyuan, then naturally peeled a shrimp, pinched off the tail and dipped it in the sauce on the plate before putting it into Yuan Shiyuan’s bowl.
“Taking care of my brother is what a little brother should do,” he said matter-of-factly.
The family, rarely gathered together for a meal, found life gradually moving in a better direction. As they chatted, the conversation turned to Yuan Shiyuan’s work.
Father Yuan worried: “The entertainment industry is treacherous…”
Yuan Shiyuan reassured him: “That depends on the company. Mine is pretty good.”
As he spoke, he quietly pushed vegetables he didn’t like into Yuan Shize’s bowl; Yuan Shize calmly helped him finish them.
“I’m worried about your future development—your contract is so long.”
Yuan Shiyuan thought carefully and said, “I used to worry about that too. I was afraid I wouldn’t do well. But once I actually started, I found I quite like this job.”
“Having so many fans love you feels strange. We’re strangers, and yet they’re willing to like me.”
“I also know how hard they like me—if someone insults me they defend me, and that makes them unhappy too. Their time is precious and their love is precious, and they’re willing to give it to me. I don’t want to let them down.”
Yuan Shiyuan said earnestly, “I want to do this well.”
Yuan Xing and the others listened attentively.
“We will support you unconditionally,” they said, “as long as this is what you want to do.”
At that moment, Father Yuan suddenly put down his chopsticks and cleared his throat. “And there’s good news—darling, look!”
He turned his phone screen toward Yuan Shiyuan. On the screen, a white piano flashed in the light.
“Didn’t your younger brother just sign with a club? He insisted on putting his money with you and only kept a little for himself. I thought he wanted to spend it,” Father Yuan chuckled. “Turns out he’s buying you a piano.”
Yuan Shiyuan’s eyes widened instantly.
He hugged his brother tightly, too surprised to speak.
“I love you so much, Xiao Ze!”
When their mother had been ill, the family had sold whatever they could to cover medical bills. Now that Father Yuan had found work, and the two brothers were both doing well, the surgery could finally go ahead successfully…
Yuan Shiyuan thought that at this very moment he must be the happiest person in the world.
His face was lit with joy; he hummed as he ate, a rosy, delighted tune radiating from him.
Yuan Shize returned the hug, but an inconvenient thought came to him—his differentiation test showed a 97% chance of becoming Alpha.
If only he were Beta.
Then he could always stay by his brother’s side.
He could do so many things for him, and being Beta would make it convenient. Without pheromones, and not being affected by them, he could forever be by his brother’s side simply as “family.”
Yuan Shize looked at the upturned pink tips of Yuan Shiyuan’s hair and again wished he were Beta.
That way, when AOs coveted his brother, he could naturally shield him from those burning gazes; when his brother’s pheromones were chaotic, he could stay close and, like a tool, help soothe him; even after his brother married, he could rightly live next door, help take care of the children, keep the piano room in order, and do the household chores.
Like a silent, tenacious plant, he would be rooted forever in Yuan Shiyuan’s life.
–
Yuan Shiyuan’s phone suddenly vibrated. When the screen lit up, he caught sight of a text message.
The hospital wanted him to come back for a new test.
Another test?
How many tests had that been? Yuan Shiyuan felt unsettled and a little afraid.
But he didn’t tell his family.
Yuan Shiyuan suddenly understood why his parents had chosen to hide the surgery from them. Because they were the closest family, they instinctively wanted to shield him from every storm and didn’t want their child to worry.
Their family had only just managed to patch themselves back together; he didn’t want any accident to ruin this hard-won happiness.
Yuan Shiyuan went to the hospital alone.
He looked at the familiar face across from him and asked, “Doctor, I’m not going to have an incurable disease, am I?”
Why else would they keep asking him to come back for tests?
The doctor smiled wryly. “You’re very healthy, but there is a big problem with your hormone secretion. Some data are missing. We want you to come in so you can complete one more test—this one is free.”
“Really?” Yuan Shiyuan’s toes traced circles on the floor unconsciously. “Just tell me straight. I can handle it.”
“I’m not lying to you.” The doctor sounded helpless. “I’ll be direct. Your spectrum analysis is very strange—some parts look like Omega, some like Alpha. Apart from that, your body is healthy, you can rest assured on that point.”
“Cases like this are extremely rare. Based on known examples, the worst outcome would be something many Alphas couldn’t accept. I was afraid you wouldn’t be at ease, which is why we didn’t tell you earlier.”
I was terrified.
After all, it still came down to hormones.
Yuan Shiyuan was used to this problem. When he was a child his glands didn’t develop well; as he grew up his hormone secretion remained irregular, though over the years no definitive illness had been diagnosed.
As long as it wasn’t an incurable disease, he breathed a sigh of relief and asked, “What’s the worst outcome?”
The doctor looked at him. “The worst-case scenario is that you could undergo secondary differentiation into an Omega. That’s something many Alphas find hard to accept.”
“Oh.”
The doctor was shocked — that reaction was far too calm.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, I can accept it.”
“Really? Think again carefully. Would you be able to accept becoming an Omega? You’ve lived as an Alpha for so many years; you can tell from your surroundings how Alpha and Omega lives differ. Are you truly able to accept it?”
Yuan Shiyuan obediently thought it through.
Then he gave the same answer: “I can accept it.”
“Any gender is equal. I don’t think Alphas are superior to other genders, and I certainly don’t think Omegas are inferior to Alphas.” He said this, then frowned with distress. “But… you’d probably be uncomfortable.”
“Like you said, I’ve lived as an Alpha for so many years — many habits are hard to change.”
“If I instinctively go to the A restroom, wouldn’t that be sexual harassment of As?”
But asking Yuan Shiyuan to use the O restroom wasn’t right either. He used to be an Alpha; even if he underwent secondary differentiation, psychologically he’d still feel Alpha. He couldn’t bring himself to use the O restroom.
If such a day ever came, he figured he’d probably have to use a gender-neutral public restroom.
The doctor was very surprised.
He smiled and said, “Don’t worry. Maybe it’s just abnormal hormone secretion; don’t overthink it. After all, the probability of secondary differentiation is extremely low. In the hospital’s hundred-year history there have only been two cases, and one of them only happened this year.”
Yuan Shiyuan smiled too. “If I really do secondary-differentiate, I’ll just go buy a lottery ticket.”
Endocrinology doctors are rare; for all three visits it had been the same physician. They talked more in depth. The doctor learned about Yuan Shiyuan’s daily habits and other aspects, and likewise thought the chance of secondary differentiation was small.
Generally speaking, only Alphas with relatively weak constitutions undergo secondary differentiation.
But this pink-haired Alpha in front of him, besides looking slender and delicate and not like a typical Alpha, had excellent physical fitness in every respect — even among S-rank Alphas he would be outstanding.
“If you did secondary-differentiate into an Omega, you’d at least be SS-class.” The doctor joked while writing an order. “Let’s add one more test. There aren’t many people here right now, so no need to queue. The sooner it’s done, the sooner we’ll get results.”
Yuan Shiyuan took the form and finally saw what tests this visit required.
Static-night test.