Chapter 37: I Can’t Leave Him Anymore
Liang Bo sat casually between Shou Jiaxun and Uncle Guo, scrolling through the phone screen with a beaming smile, looking at the “Indeed Loves You” account on “Little Red Flower.”
This account had been operating continuously for four or five years. Early content was all “Today’s Fresh Fruit” and “Today’s Special Offers.” Occasionally someone liked it, but no one commented.
It could only be said that Uncle Guo knew how to persist. After more than a year of talking to himself in “single-player mode,” the uncle not only didn’t lose enthusiasm but became more courageous with every setback. He started adding “Direct Sourcing from Origin” content, posting about him and Little President Shou going up mountains and down to the countryside to find quality fruit sources everywhere.
Letting everyone see the efforts made by “Indeed Loves You” in pursuing low-price, high-quality operations.
Since the original intention of creating “Little Red Flower” was “Like the little bits of beauty, give you a little red flower,” the platform would screen a batch of high-quality accounts that “focused on self” and updated stably to push traffic to every once in a while.
Two years ago, “Indeed Loves You” finally caught the traffic express train. Of course, this also had a lot to do with their brand stores becoming popular offline in Beijing.
When the customer base accumulated to a certain number, combined with a little volume from the online platform, the sudden rise in momentum was usually a matter of overnight.
Although Uncle Guo’s account couldn’t be compared with traffic stars or official media, considering he had no team support, didn’t spend money on ads, and didn’t even know how to deliberately chase hot topics, achieving nearly four figures of real interaction per post already made him a small top-tier influencer among the grassroots.
And the true value of this account lay in direct offline monetizationâfor example, around six o’clock every evening, Uncle Guo would post inventory information, saying which store had a surplus of what goods today, with discounts for immediate orders or free delivery.
Because their prices were genuinely low and the fruit was indeed fresh and good-looking, every discount post had calls like “Charge, charge, charge!” underneath.
Uncle Guo himself even gained a group of supporters because of the store account.
Every time he posted a photo of himself, people enthusiastically recommended sunscreen.
However, Uncle Guo’s “face fans” also called themselves “Sunscreen Oil.” It was hard to say if these people really disliked him being dark or were teasing him affectionately.
But there was no need to delve too deeply into internet behavior. The key was that Uncle Guo’s persona of “Positive Energy Omega Single Dad Entrepreneur” was very likable.
His hard-working, honest, and simple qualities, coupled with not-bad facial featuresâaside from his skin being a bit dark, there was nothing for others to blacklist.
Until last month, when Uncle Guo posted a graduation photo of his son Guo Duoyu wearing a bachelor’s cap and a big black gown.
An account named “Like DĂ©jĂ Vu Yan Returns” commented: “Guoran, you left just like that back then. I looked for you for a long time. Now knowing you guys are doing well, I can finally rest assured. In the blink of an eye, the son is so big. On such a memorable day as him getting his degree, didn’t you go to accompany him?”
Normal fan comments usually didn’t exceed ten words. This “little essay” from Yan Returns was likely intentionally there to be an “eyesore.”
So soon someone joined in the fun: “Bumping this for you. What kind of CEO’s wife running away with the ball plot is this?”
Someone else went to “archaeologize” Yan Returns’ account and corrected the clickbait: “It’s a Professor’s wife. Turns out Uncle isn’t a wild fruit farmer.”
Of course, Uncle wasn’t a wild fruit farmer.
Without Yan Xin and his Beta partner maliciously deceiving him to “borrow a belly to have a son,” Guoran would absolutely never have walked the hard path of getting up early and staying up late to rush to markets selling fruit everywhere, raising an illegitimate child alone in this lifetime.
Uncle Guo wasn’t a professional content operator, nor did he have online PR experience. After that, Yan Returns came to leave comments showing off deep affection from time to time.
The only response Uncle gave… was surprisingly no response.
Because no one wanted to exchange harsh words with irrelevant people on the “message wall” they had managed with care for several years.
Uncle Guo felt the pressure increasing, realizing he couldn’t cope. It seemed that whether he responded or not, the “son” issue was being continuously amplified.
In the end, he chose to swallow his pride and sent Guo Duoyu’s phone number via private message, saying contact him yourself, please stop disturbing my life.
He did this because he originally had confidence that Guo Duoyu would decisively refuse to meet the Alpha father to acknowledge him.
The result was quite unexpected. Guo Duoyu not only didn’t refuse but immediately flew halfway around the world back to have a meal with his biological Alpha father.
This was also why Shou Jiaxun was furious, claiming he would break the unfilial son’s dog legs.
Uncle Guo seemed a bit disheartened. When mentioning Guo Duoyu, he would only say back and forth: “Aiya, whatever. He’s grown up, I don’t care, it’s all in the past.”
Actually, whether it was “in the past” or not was hung on his face and written in his eyes; others weren’t blind.
Not to mention Shou Jiaxun’s resentment, even Liang Bo, an outsider, felt a lump in his throat hearing it.
So he suggested: “Uncle, I have a classmate who studied new media operations. His salary requirements aren’t high. He just graduated like me, an internship position is fine too.
Do you want to consider recruiting a professional kid to help you manage the account? …The price isn’t expensive, and it saves worry.”
Uncle Guo smiled bitterly: “Sure. How much do you think he’d come for?”
Assistant Liang thought seriously for two seconds: “I am on Stand By 24/7. An operations post works eight hours. His working hours are one-third of mine… I think it’s reasonable for his salary to be one-third of mine.”
President Shou leaned over to scrutinize Assistant Liang’s face: “Are you serious?”
Uncle Guo also asked: “Can it be calculated like this?”
Liang Bo asked the two bosses back blankly: “Is it unreasonable?”
President Shou decided on the spot: “Reasonable! You go call him, ask him to come to the company for an interview as soon as possible.”
“Okay.” Assistant Liang smiled shyly, got up and walked a bit further away, finding a quiet corner to make the call.
He came back a few minutes later and reported to the two bosses: “President Shou, President Guoran, it’s like this… my classmate said he found a job.
But it doesn’t matter! He recommended a friend of his to me.
However, that friend is currently out of town and needs two or three days to come back. Anyway, he can interview within this week.
Do you two think that’s okay?”
Shou Jiaxun hunched his waist, resting his chin on one hand, tilting his head to chuckle at Uncle Guo: “I said just now… it’d be strange if his classmate agreed to come.”
Then he straightened his back, crossed his arms, and looked at Assistant Liang: “Don’t you think one-third of your salary is a bit too shabby?”
Assistant Liang asked in pleasant surprise: “So you plan to raise my salary, making my one-third become domineering?”
Shou Jiaxun snubbed out his cigarette, not knowing whether to laugh or cry: “This is the first time I’ve met an employee asking for a raise before even passing probation.”
“He’s so witty.” Uncle Guo patted his partner’s shoulder, amused: “The key is… will someone really come for an interview?”
Shou Jiaxun turned sideways, letting Uncle Guo rest his whole arm on his shoulder, looking up at Assistant Liang with a smile: “I don’t know, I only heard that he wants me to raise his salary.”
“Then will you raise it for him?” Uncle Guo asked with a smile.
Shou Jiaxun nodded solemnly: “Raise it, of course raise it! I feel like I can’t leave him anymore.”
Assistant Liang looked down at Little President Shou with a beaming smile: “Really? Really?” As if truly overjoyed.
Shou Jiaxun raised his eyebrows and nodded, his expression certain, then naturally rested his head on Uncle Guo’s arm, looking to be in quite a good mood.
So what he cared about wasn’t whether Guo Duoyu went to see his biological Alpha father, but Uncle Guo’s attitude towards this matter.
As long as Uncle Guo was emotionally stable, Little President Shou was stable.
Liang Bo was calm on the surface, but couldn’t help muttering in his heart.
Shou Jiaxun saying he couldn’t leave Assistant Liang was obviously mostly a joke; the person he truly couldn’t leave seemed to be Uncle Guo.
So when he said he wasn’t interested in Alphas, could it be he was interested in Omegas?
If that were really the case, the Alphas secretly in love with Shou Jiaxun would be heartbroken to death.
For example, Yong Ming. Who knew if one day he found out Shou Jiaxun was “Double O Love” (Omega-Omega relationship), would he be depressed to death?
Shou Jiaxun checked the time on his phone, then threw the cigarette butt into the flowerpot, standing up to stretch: “Bo’er, I’m done here for today. See you at the company tomorrow.”
A little blankness appeared on Liang Bo’s face: “Oh, but I have nothing to do at home either. My dad works overtime every day, I’m quite bored alone at home. How about I wait a bit longer, drop you guys off at the restaurant, then get off work?”
“Oh, like that… then you really are quite suitable to work for President Shou.” Uncle Guo also stood up, arranging things for Shou Jiaxun’s little assistant: “Don’t go. Eat dinner together tonight, just in time to catch up.”
“Okay!” Liang Bo nodded happily, following behind Shou Jiaxun and Uncle Guo, slowing his pace to stroll toward the residential elevator lobby.
Once the thought that Shou Jiaxun and Uncle Guo were a “couple” arose in his mind, Assistant Liang found that no matter how he looked at the two in front, their behavior seemed ambiguous.
At the same time, his heart felt sour and slightly bitter, involuntarily complaining secretly: How could he like an Omega?
While Assistant Liang was secretly regretting, the two Omegas ahead had already started chatting about “private” topics.
Uncle Guo asked Shou Jiaxun: “Did you finish the suppressants you bought last time?”
“No, haven’t used them yet,” Shou Jiaxun said.
Uncle Guo asked again: “When was your last heat?”
Shou Jiaxun recalled carefully: “February… or was it March?”
“Oh, then hurry up and check if the suppressants in your suitcase have expired later.”
Shou Jiaxun turned back to instruct Assistant Liang: “Bo’er, help me check later if the suppressants in the suitcase have expired. If they have, remind me to buy some when we go out tonight.”
Liang Bo asked: “Which suitcase?”
Shou Jiaxun then remembered he had left his big suitcase abroad, not knowing when it would be mailed back.
After entering the elevator and seeing no outsiders in the car, he instructed Assistant Liang again: “Then remind me to find a pharmacy to buy some when we go out later.”
Liang Bo nodded: “Okay… actually I can go buy them for you now.”
Shou Jiaxun waved his hand behind him: “No need, it’s not like I’m going into heat immediately, what’s the rush?”
Liang Bo felt even more curious: “I remember Omegas go into heat once or twice a month. Why is your interval so long? Do you want to go to the hospital to check?”
“Tch… wish it wouldn’t come out to cause trouble.” Shou Jiaxun scoffed with his head down dismissively. Following beside Uncle Guo, it seemed even his mood was gradually brightening.
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