Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Hahaha, Mrs. Zhou, it will absolutely be delivered before 4 p.m., don’t worry..."

Ma Song showed up at the shop before 2 p.m. today—though he was practically useless, since he didn’t know how to make desserts.

Lu Yao barely acknowledged him when he heard Ma Song enter, keeping his focus on the pastry decorating station.

"You said you want the same pastry chef as last time? Absolutely, absolutely."

Ma Song said something else under his breath, but Lu Yao didn’t catch it. Today’s cake was particularly exhausting to make because his back was aching terribly.

As soon as Ma Song hung up, his face fell. He strode over and snapped at Lu Yao, "Did you say something to Mrs. Zhou? Why did she specifically ask for you?"

Bosses loved flexing their authority, and Ma Song was no exception. Lu Yao pointed out evenly, "You’re the only one managing the shop’s online presence."

Over the past two months, more and more customers had been requesting Lu Yao’s custom desserts. But Ma Song had gotten used to taking advantage of him and was now afraid Lu Yao might quit—yet he couldn’t muster the decency to treat him right.

"That may be, but you should still be careful." The shop wasn’t exactly thriving yet, and Ma Song huffed, "Don’t worry about attracting customers. Just focus on your work."

Lu Yao didn’t respond. Ma Song left after his meaningless power trip, and Xia Shiyue, once Ma Song was far enough away, murmured to Lu Yao, "He’s scared you’ll leave and the business will collapse."

The shop had been open for nearly a year, but it had only recently started doing well—certainly not because of Ma Song’s management skills.

Still, this job was Lu Yao’s best bet for now. He said quietly, "At least you’ll be off to school next month. You won’t have to stay here anymore."

Xia Shiyue complained, "Blame my dad. I told him I wanted to open a café, and he made me put in two months here and whip up a business plan. But he blew through a ton of cash when he started his own business back in the day."

Xia Shiyue admitted it was an impulsive idea, but so what? It was just two months of allowance.

Fate had brought these two together in the same dessert shop—except one was a spoiled Omega rich kid, studying at a prestigious Omega academy in the capital and just slumming it for the experience, while the other was here because he had no other choice.

Xia Shiyue sighed again. "Well, my dad just wants to prepare me for inheriting the family business. I get it."

Lu Yao turned to look at him and smiled gently. "Your family loves you very much."

Maybe Lu Yao did feel a pang of envy, but he didn’t waste time on things that weren’t his to have.

He knew his own family didn’t like him.

After a moment of hesitation, Xia Shiyue blurted out, "Actually, if you save up enough, you could go back to school too."

Lu Yao gave a small shake of his head. "Tuition is too expensive."

The Lus were constantly hitting him up for money, and Lu Yao didn’t want them bothering Fu Yanhuai. Besides, quitting school wasn’t just about the money.

Xia Shiyue wasn’t privy to all the details of Lu Yao’s situation, but that didn’t stop him from feeling sad for him. Unsure if offering help outright would make things awkward, he just cleared his throat and said, "I remember you wanted to borrow a book on the history of desserts. Once I start school, I’ll find it in the library and bring it to you."

"Okay." Lu Yao genuinely lit up now. "Thank you, Shiyue."

Xia Shiyue grinned. Months of working together had made him count Lu Yao as a real friend. "No need to thank me. It’s settled, then."

Ma Song wrapped up his rounds and started walking back. Xia Shiyue quickly moved away, making a show of cleaning measuring cups.

Lu Yao skillfully got the jam bubbling. The rose raspberry tart and orange financier were classic desserts, and Ma Song eyed him oddly as Lu Yao bent over his work.

"The Basque cakes in the fridge are getting low. Make sure to restock them."

Lu Yao should have been able to take a breather after finishing this order, but whether intentionally or not, Ma Song had scheduled him as the only pastry chef for three days straight.

"Alright." Lu Yao straightened up, ignoring the throbbing in his back. "I’d like to use my banked vacation days from the past few weeks. I’ll take three days starting tomorrow."

"Out of the question!" Ma Song bristled. He had already scheduled the shop’s orders in advance. "Lu Yao, show some professionalism. You can’t just take time off without notice and leave customers waiting!"

Lu Yao frowned. "These are my entitled days off. There are other pastry chefs here. Are you saying customers can’t get their desserts without me?"

Ma Song turned red with rage. "Fine. If you don’t want to work, there are plenty who will. Close up tonight, and make sure all the materials are checked and signed off before you leave."

With that, Ma Song stomped off. Xia Shiyue seethed next to him. "What kind of person is that? Lu Yao, once my café opens, I’ll hire you to make desserts there. Let’s see where he finds another pastry chef as good as you."

Lu Yao sagged against the counter. "Looks like I’ll need to hustle today."

Closing up and taking stock would take until 10 p.m., but Fu Yanhuai was coming home at 9 tonight.

By the time he finished, Lu Yao saw stars as he stood up straight.

It was already dark when Lu Yao finally completed all the custom orders. He restocked the freezer with a batch of Basque cakes and eyed the clock exhaustedly on the wall—closing time was near.

Lu Yao opened the freezer and saw the caramel pudding he had made that morning.

Fu Yanhuai was the only light in Lu Yao’s life. Hesitantly, his fingers brushed the pudding before he took it out.

Fu Yanhuai’s rut would last a few more days. He wasn’t usually a bad-tempered person, but ruts made him especially irritable.

Lu Yao hoped the pudding would soften him a little. If the next few nights were like last night, Lu Yao might need a whole week to recover.

But his body was acting strangely too—unprecedented fatigue, a hot, swollen nape, and full-body soreness.

Uneasy, Lu Yao pressed his lips together. He really needed a couple of days off.

Besides, ruts were the rare times Lu Yao could have Fu Yanhuai all to himself. Most of the time, he could only watch silently from the sidelines as this dazzling Alpha commanded attention. He didn’t want to miss this chance for closeness.

With equal parts nerves and hope, Lu Yao carefully packaged the pudding, tying it with a gray ribbon—Fu Yanhuai disliked flashy colors.

As he set the bag down and began inventory for closing, his phone on the counter suddenly rang.

Lu Yao paused, then walked over to check the caller ID: Guan Qinglu.

He stayed silent for a moment, willing the ringing to stop on its own. But it didn’t. With a sigh, he finally answered.

"Mom."

Guan Qinglu scoffed on the other end. "I don’t deserve that title. Why did it take you so long to answer? Tell Fu Yanhuai your father wants to invite him to dinner tomorrow night."

As always, Lu Yao replied vaguely, "He’s busy, and he’s in rut right now..."

"What does that matter? I’ve seen him go out just fine with suppressants during ruts!" Guan Qinglu cut him off impatiently. "Why do you think we sent you to the Fu family? If he’s in rut, isn’t that the perfect time for you to do something?"

A suffocating sense of absurdity gripped Lu Yao’s heart. "My marriage to Fu Yanhuai wasn’t because of you. And even if he’s in rut, what exactly do you want me to do?"

Guan Qinglu sneered. "You’re so useless. I don’t know how the Fu family agreed to let you marry him."

Lu Yao laughed bitterly. "Isn’t it normal for a Beta child you despise to be useless?"

"Betas are pathetic." Guan Qinglu’s voice dripped with disdain. "Fine, skip the dinner. There’s a small project in the Fu family. Your father wants to collaborate with Fu Yanhuai."

She paused, thinking of Lu Qianxing, and softened her tone slightly. "Lu Yao, you and Fu Yanhuai are legally bonded. Isn’t it natural for him to help your father? You know how hard things have been for him lately, and your brother is still in school, preparing for his art exhibition..."

Fu Yanhuai had only married Lu Yao because of his scent resistance. Lu Yao couldn’t possibly trouble him with this. "The Fu family doesn’t have 'small projects.' Anything Fu Yanhuai handles wouldn’t be small."

Guan Qinglu had expected Lu Yao to refuse. She snapped, "If you won’t ask, we’ll go to Fu Yanhuai ourselves."

Guan Qinglu's voice faded, and silence settled again.

The shop was dark except for the workstation light. Lu Yao stood alone, silently staring at the neatly packaged caramel pudding.

It didn’t matter. At least there was still a room in the Fu household that belonged to him.

In the end, Lu Yao carefully placed the pudding in his backpack. Before leaving, he texted Ma Song to request time off—his accumulated vacation days, which Ma Song had denied him repeatedly.

In the past, Lu Yao had never argued, but this time, it overlapped with Fu Yanhuai’s rut. He wanted to stay by Fu Yanhuai’s side until his condition fully stabilized.

Lu Yao followed his usual route: first a shared bike, then four subway stops, and finally a walk past a self-service mart.

Despite hurrying, he was still fifteen minutes late by the time he arrived, breathing heavily.

Taking the side entrance would mean a detour, so Lu Yao had no choice but to enter through the front door, where he was immediately met with the butler’s stern frown.

Lu Yao’s heart sank. Flushing, he approached and whispered, "I’m sorry, I’m late."

As a Beta, he couldn’t detect pheromones, but the heavy tension in the villa was unmistakable. The living room was eerily quiet—no one was there except him and the butler.

The butler scowled at him. Alphas in rut were notoriously unpredictable, and even the butler couldn’t reason with him. "You know Master Fu is in rut. How could you wander around like this?"

Lu Yao ducked his head further, guilt weighing heavily on him. "I… I’m sorry."

The butler sighed inwardly but still advised him, "Master Fu is in his bedroom now, and he doesn’t seem to be in a good mood."

Lu Yao grew uneasy. "Then I’ll go change first—"

"Lu Yao."

Startled, Lu Yao looked up. Fu Yanhuai stood at the top of the stairs, gazing down at him coldly—no bite guard in place. Fu Yanhuai disliked wearing a gland patch at home. Though Lu Yao, as a Beta, couldn’t smell pheromones, the dominant pheromones were palpable now.

For some reason, being scrutinized from above like this made Lu Yao feel as if he’d been stripped naked on display in the living room.

He stammered softly, "I didn’t mean to be late."

Fu Yanhuai stood too high and too far away for Lu Yao to read his expression.

With icy detachment, Fu Yanhuai bit out just two words: "Come up."

A chill of apprehension crept over Lu Yao. For the first time, he wanted to hide in his room.

"Can I… change first?"

Fu Yanhuai’s tone was flat. "Not needed. You can come in without clothes."

"And you’re late. Why? Because of those worthless pastries again?"

Lu Yao’s face burned red. The butler hadn’t left yet, and before he could present the caramel pudding he’d so eagerly prepared, he was met with his mate's anger.

"I’m sorry, I was a little late today…"

Lu Yao climbed the stairs slowly. He didn’t dare look up at Fu Yanhuai, stumbling as he was dragged into the room.

The moment the door closed behind them, Lu Yao was pinned against it. Fu Yanhuai’s bedroom was completely dark, the blackout curtains drawn tight.

Fu Yanhuai didn't bother with buttons. Lu Yao heard them scatter across the carpet.

For some reason, the moment he entered the room—or rather, the moment Fu Yanhuai pulled him into his arms—the burning at his nape worsened.

Trembling, Lu Yao tilted his head back, struggling to breathe in the heavy cloud of Alpha scent.

Why did he smell something faintly fragrant? A cool, woody scent—had Fu Yanhuai used air freshener?

But why now, when he never had before? Lu Yao’s body burned hotter, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. His neck felt like it was about to burst open.

"W-Wait," Lu Yao gasped, remembering his gift. "Yanhuai, I… I have something for—"

His backpack hit the floor, shoved aside roughly by Fu Yanhuai. The corner of the pudding’s wrapping peeked out, the pretty bow now askew, the bag slightly damp.

The caramel pudding must have spoiled.

A whiff of caramel escaped. Fu Yanhuai glanced at it dismissively.

"Don’t bring trash home next time."