The Sheepdog

The Zhao family provided the venue every year.

It was considered both a social obligation and a brief seaside holiday for the city’s young elites.

Apparently this year’s maritime situation had complicated scheduling.

The event had been arranged at short notice.

The ship wasn’t even docked at Jiangcheng Harbor.

As a result, everyone had been scrambling.

Young people from Jiangcheng were dragging suitcases across the country.

Those overseas were cursing while desperately booking flights.

Of course, this was modern society.

People still had to maintain the appearance of supporting free love.

So these gatherings usually maintained a certain level of plausible deniability.

Parents generally didn’t attend.

Unless…

A marriage alliance was already close to being finalized.

In those situations, parents accompanied their children.

Business discussions could take place.

Future in-laws could become acquainted.

That was why everyone was so shocked to see Pei Qin.

His younger son had only recently permanently marked an Omega.

And now Chief Executive Pei had appeared at the Adult Ceremony Banquet.

It was difficult not to speculate.

What did this mean?

Was he acknowledging that Lower District Omega as his future child-in-law?

Amid the whispers and gossip, Pei Qingyu stepped forward first.

Walking through the crowd, he approached the man standing at the center of attention.

“Dad.”

…

The undercurrents on the deck were intense.

Wu Qie, however, couldn’t care less.

He found it easier to believe aliens would arrive tomorrow than to believe this banquet had coincidentally been arranged right where they happened to be.

Pulling out his phone, he planned to browse WeChat Moments.

Instead, the moment he opened WeChat, he received his answer.

Li Ying had created a group chat containing him and Teacher Xu Cixin.

Since nine that morning.

In the roughly two hours he hadn’t checked his phone.

The unread message count had exceeded:

[999+]

Wu Qie: “…”

He genuinely didn’t understand why this couple felt the need to conduct their romance in front of him.

Was this some kind of psychological disorder?

Scrolling upward, however, he discovered the matter actually involved him.

Over the past two hours, Teacher Xu had apparently collected every crying emoji known to humanity.

[Crying.JPG]

[Wronged Crying.JPG]

[Apologetic Crying.JPG]

She had spammed all of them while repeatedly tagging him.

The victims ranged from babies.

To kittens.

To puppies.

To superheroes.

To fathers from children’s cartoons.

Eventually:

[Wu Qie: ?]

Teacher Wu finally appeared.

Teacher Xu, who had spent two hours playing on her phone in the office, immediately stopped sending stickers.

Instead, she switched to voice messages.

In an incredibly pitiful tone, she apologized.

Then explained that a pair of foreign twins had come looking for him that morning.

Most Chinese people didn’t particularly care about foreign blood feuds.

Nor did they memorize the hundred-year history of the Italian mafia.

Teacher Xu was a perfect example.

Her entire knowledge of Italy consisted of sitting on the Spanish Steps and eating pistachio ice cream near the Trevi Fountain.

Naturally, she had no idea who the heirs of the Visay family were.

Nor what they looked like.

She hadn’t recognized that the twins standing before her were, metaphorically speaking, demons.

She had happily sold out Teacher Wu’s workplace.

She had nearly escorted them directly into his office.

Fortunately, Zhao Guipu had appeared in the Wu family car at exactly the right moment.

Though she still had no idea why.

After the twins left, the more she thought about it, the more wrong everything seemed.

So she told Li Ying.

Li Ying had just finished a performance that morning.

He had only been asleep for two hours.

Without even opening his eyes fully, he searched Picline for videos of:

“Beautiful heterochromatic Alpha twins.”

Teacher Xu watched.

Teacher Xu almost died from fright.

Holding his phone, Wu Qie felt completely speechless.

He remembered Zhao Guipu’s warning.

The twins had arrived carrying answers.

At that moment, he wasn’t sure whether he should be terrified imagining what would’ve happened if he’d returned directly to school—

Or embarrassed that one of the few friends he actually had now knew about the incident where he had been drugged and ended up humiliating himself.

Li Ying had changed his contact nickname again.

This time it was:

“Picline’s Hottest Celebrity”

With an attached comment:

People truly can’t be judged by appearances. My respects.

Wu Qie responded with:

“……”

Yet even while replying, he found himself wanting to contact Zhao Guipu.

After thinking about it repeatedly, he still didn’t know what he wanted to say.

He simply wanted to say something.

He stared at the silent chat window for a long time.

Eventually resentment began growing.

You showed up at my workplace in my family’s car and dealt with the people trying to hunt me down across an ocean…

And you’re not even going to say a single word?

What? Did you suddenly become mute?

Nobody knew what Zhao Guipu spent his days thinking about.

Sniffling slightly, Wu Qie still couldn’t bring himself to put down his phone.

Awkwardly, he sent a punctuation mark.

[Wu Qie: .]

Just that.

A single period.

After tossing his luggage into the cabin, the black-haired Beta sat on the bed and began staring blankly into space.

Every thirty seconds, he checked his phone.

Only to discover that barely any time had passed.

The waiting was unbearable.

Naturally, his thoughts started wandering.

The hastily arranged Adult Ceremony.

The inexplicable boarding of a Zhao family ship.

The Enforcement Bureau personnel aboard.

Perhaps even Pei Qin had been invited by Zhao Guipu.

After all, no matter how insane the Visay twins were, they couldn’t openly challenge China’s enforcement system on Chinese soil.

Five minutes later.

Just before Wu Qie died from anticipation.

A reply arrived.

[ZHAO: It’s fine.]

Two words.

Chinese was truly a profound language.

The message felt like reassurance.

Yet it also felt as though the sender was simply informing him that everything had already been handled.

And that none of it had been particularly troublesome.

Wu Qie rolled over on the bed.

At that moment, familiar voices sounded beyond the cabin door.

Zhao Shu.

And Pei Qingyu.

Pei Qingyu asked:

“Why aren’t you in your own luxury suite?”

“What are you doing here?”

Zhao Shu sneered.

“When there are weasels eyeing the chicken coop, it’s hard to sleep.”

“Changing beds doesn’t solve anything.”

“So my dad was your idea too?”

“Has dating an Omega damaged your brain?”

“You think I can order your father around?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m not that bored.”

“Pei Qingyu.”

“Nobody forced you to bite that Omega from the Lower District.”

“Though honestly, whether you bit him or not, the Wu family marriage alliance was never going to fall to you.”

“Oh?”

“And it falls to you?”

“I have slightly more qualifications than you.”

“For example, unlike you, I actually know why we’re standing here today.”

“You idiot.”

“You think this is all because I wanted to force you into a marriage?”

The casual conversation suddenly grew colder.

Much colder.

“You can’t protect him.”

“So all you can do is stand there and watch me eat.”

The confident voice carried absolute certainty.

Zhao Shu clearly knew something important.

Soon afterward, a neighboring cabin door opened.

Then closed.

Silence returned.

Pei Qingyu’s response was unknown.

But Wu Qie understood.

And suddenly everything seemed to make sense.

Zhao Shu had discovered the truth about the Visay twins first.

Then gone to his protective, indulgent older brother—

The only person in the world who treated him like a normal human being—

And asked him to protect his fiancé.

…

By the time Wu Qie came back to himself, his slippers had nearly rubbed the cabin carpet into flames.

The air smelled strange.

Beyond dust mites and stale air.

Something thick.

Sour.

Confused.

Is that really what happened?

He stared at his reflection in the vanity mirror.

And even if it isn’t…

What exactly are you hoping for?

Even if it had started with a request from a beloved younger brother—

Was that truly all of it?

The unnecessary stickers.

The teasing.

The constant updates.

The endless messages.

The frequency of their conversations.

Their chat history had become absurdly long.

Three minutes of scrolling wasn’t enough to reach the beginning.

For a future brother-in-law whose marriage alliance hadn’t even been finalized yet…

Zhao Guipu seemed to be giving him far too much.

Wu Qie stubbornly thought:

Why does he care so much?

Does he have too much free time?

Realizing he was only torturing himself, he grabbed his phone and called Zhao Guipu.

The call connected after two rings.

The man’s side was extremely quiet.

Probably an office.

Before Wu Qie could begin his prepared speech, Zhao Guipu spoke first.

“What?”

“Did it scare you?”

His voice sounded casual through the phone.

As if he didn’t think Wu Qie should be frightened.

After all, he had warned him before.

Some people came carrying answers.

They were never going to be easy to deal with.

Wu Qie sighed internally.

He almost wished he had merely been scared.

Unfortunately, once he’d made the call, there was no point pretending.

He briefly explained what he had overheard between Zhao Shu and Pei Qingyu.

Afterward, he paused.

Licked his lips.

Then asked:

“Was it Zhao Shu who told you about all this?”

The answer didn’t come immediately.

A rhythmic tapping sound echoed through the phone.

Like fingers striking a desk.

Wu Qie couldn’t understand why the question required thought.

Yet Zhao Guipu really did pause.

Then finally answered:

“Yes.”

Wu Qie stared at his reflection.

Fortunately, he didn’t look completely devastated.

But the color drained from his face.

“Oh.”

He spoke quietly.

“Should I thank him?”

For the first time, Zhao Guipu fell silent.

Then:

“What do you think?”

His voice remained low and calm.

As though he had simply returned the question to its owner.

Wu Qie stared blankly at the cabin ceiling.

There was a small stain up there.

He wasn’t good at handling situations like this.

So all he could do was say awkwardly:

“I don’t understand.”

A faint chuckle came from the other side.

“What’s wrong?”

“Getting bored on the ship?”

“Thinking too much?”

Wu Qie groaned internally.

He had regretted making this call eight hundred years ago.

Now Zhao Guipu had provided him with an escape route.

He should have immediately taken it.

“Maybe.”

“But it’s only a few days.”

“I can endure it.”

“Forget it.”

“Ah, right—I suddenly remembered I have something to do—”

“What if I come too?”

His hurried excuse came to an abrupt stop.

Wu Qie slowly pulled the phone away from his ear.

Like he’d just seen a ghost.

He stared at the call screen.

Completely speechless.

Not a single word emerged.

“If I come too…”

“Would it be a little less unbearable?”