Chapter 5: Lessons
The shock on Jiang Wan’s face flickered for only an instant before being replaced by a layer of frost.
She crossed her arms and, with a bit of force, kicked the toe of Jiang Zhaosheng’s polished leather shoes. Her tone was cold and biting:
“Haven’t seen you for days, can’t even find a trace of you…”
“Messages unanswered, calls not going through…” The girl’s gaze was like a small knife, scanning Jiang Zhaosheng’s attire from head to toe. “…And suddenly, you’ve transformed into our school’s ‘Counselor’?”
“Jiang Zhaosheng, you’re quite good at giving me surprises.”
Shang Yan stood half a step behind her to the side. His gaze swept over the gracefully lined nape of Jiang Zhaosheng’s neck, revealed by his tied hair—it was clean, the Beta’s smooth, delicate skin so white it was dazzling, the kind that would leave lingering, suggestive marks with just a light pinch.
Jiang Zhaosheng managed a smile of entreaty, carrying the helplessness of someone coaxing a child:
“My phone really was broken a few days ago. I just got it fixed and was about to tell you about this.”
He instinctively wanted to take a half-step back to put some distance between them, but a sturdy arm suddenly pressed against the small of his back—Wen Zheng had moved incredibly close at some point, his arm barring the way and preventing his retreat.
“School’s almost out anyway,” Shang Yan spoke up at the right moment. “Why don’t we take Uncle to dinner together? The new French restaurant has good reviews, and the environment is quiet.”
Jiang Wan glanced at Shang Yan. Seeming to find the suggestion reasonable, she nodded in agreement. However, the look she gave Jiang Zhaosheng was still full of scrutiny.
The restaurant had just opened, and there weren’t many people yet. It was filled with a faint fragrance and the scent of baked bread. The four of them walked toward a booth by the window. Jiang Wan’s footsteps paused, and she walked straight to Wen Zheng, tilting her chin up slightly:
“You, swap seats with me.”
Wen Zheng raised an eyebrow, seemingly finding it amusing, but said nothing and shrugged as he stood up to make way. In the end, Jiang Wan successfully sat beside Jiang Zhaosheng. The father and daughter sat side-by-side, invisibly creating a distance from Shang Yan and Wen Zheng across from them.
In Jiang Wan’s mind, Shang Yan was a fairly decent, outstanding classmate, while Wen Zheng… this Alpha, whose body language made no effort to hide his closeness to her father, only made her think of the label “persistent pursuer.” Her brow furrowed a bit deeper.
The waiter handed out the menus. Shang Yan flipped through his with an elegant posture, casually starting a conversation: “Jiang Wan, is all the material for your international exchange program ready? I heard the interview is next week?”
Jiang Zhaosheng’s fingers tightened around his water glass. Here it was. Not three sentences in and already a threat. He sneered in his heart, but on the surface, he remained as steady as a mountain. He took a sip of the lemon water and moved his cold gaze to the window—now was not the time to let Jiang Wan notice anything.
“Yeah, pretty much. Just waiting for the interview notification.”
Jiang Wan replied offhandedly, her attention quickly pulled back by another question.
She stirred the lemon slices in her glass, the ice cubes making a crisp clinking sound. Her gaze locked onto Jiang Zhaosheng again, probing:
“What about you, Dad? This ‘coincidence’ came a bit suddenly, didn’t it? Running to the school to be a counselor? And…” She paused, her eyes critically scanning his well-cut trench coat, vest, and meticulous inner layers. “…Dressed like this?”
Jiang Zhaosheng’s heart skipped a beat, but he maintained his composure, even showing a bit of the helplessness of a father being teased by his daughter:
“…A friend had a sudden emergency and asked me to fill in for a few days. I can’t be too casual about it, can I?” He brought out the “friend” excuse he had used for twenty years.
Jiang Wan curled her lip, reluctantly accepting the explanation. From childhood to now, Jiang Zhaosheng indeed had countless mysterious, untraceable “friends.”
“Are there any dietary restrictions for Uncle Jiang?” Shang Yan, sitting next to Wen Zheng, took in the interaction between the father and daughter across from him and asked politely.
“None,” Jiang Zhaosheng replied coldly, his gaze not even shifting away from the window.
However, beneath the tablecloth, an undercurrent surged.
Wen Zheng’s restless hand was trying to quietly crawl up Jiang Zhaosheng’s thigh. Jiang Zhaosheng’s eyes darkened. He suddenly turned the tables, grabbing Wen Zheng’s hand. His long, powerful fingers were like iron pincers, forcefully interlacing with the other’s fingers and accurately pinching the weakest part of the knuckles with brutal force!
“Ugh!” A sharp pain shot through his joints. Caught off guard, Wen Zheng let out a muffled groan and instinctively tried to pull his hand back.
His heart hammered wildly in his chest, and a burst of aggressively dominant Alpha pheromones leaked out uncontrollably, instantly overpowering the sweet floral and fruity fragrance of the restaurant.
…Fuck! Wen Zheng cursed himself in his mind. Was Shang Yan right? Does the more Jiang Zhaosheng resists, the more that twisted excitement in my bones becomes uncontrollable?
Jiang Wan sensed the change in pheromones. The physiological discomfort made her frown and look at Wen Zheng:
“Classmate? Are you feeling unwell? Please control your pheromones.”
She absolutely loathed her father being tainted by the scent of any Alpha or Omega; it made her feel like her territory was being invaded.
Just as Wen Zheng was about to speak, the hand held by Jiang Zhaosheng was suddenly yanked downward! He looked up in startlement, meeting Jiang Zhaosheng’s eyes.
In those blue eyes, deep as a lake, a flash of complex emotion—a mixture of warning and… entreaty—passed by so quickly Wen Zheng almost thought it was an illusion.
Fortunately, Jiang Wan didn’t look deeper. Her attention was drawn by the tablet menu Shang Yan timely pushed toward her.
“Shall we order first?” Shang Yan suggested gently, successfully shifting the focus. “Jiang Wan, want to try today’s signature steak? One for Uncle as well?”
“Medium-well for me.” Jiang Wan looked down at the screen, her fingers sliding across it as she ordered a portion of fried shrimp.
“He doesn’t need one,” she said without looking up, her tone natural. “He doesn’t like steak; he thinks it smells too gamey.”
Shang Yan smiled and nodded, indicating his understanding. However, his gaze landed interestingly on Jiang Zhaosheng, as if he had discovered something amusing:
“Speaking of which, Uncle Jiang looks so young and has such a great aura. If Jiang Wan hadn’t called you Dad, I really wouldn’t have known.”
Another boring probe. Jiang Wan looked up, propping her chin on her hand as she looked at Jiang Zhaosheng. Her eyes clearly said: The usual—you explain, or do I?
Jiang Zhaosheng shrugged helplessly at her, his meaning clear: I’ll leave it to you.
A sly curve touched Jiang Wan’s lips. This was a tacit game played between father and daughter. Whenever an insensitive pursuer tried to probe Jiang Zhaosheng’s age, Jiang Wan would take the initiative, inflating his age to discourage those shallow people who only looked at faces.
“I know what you’re curious about,” Jiang Wan turned to Shang Yan with a sweet smile and a crisp voice. “I’m his biological daughter, the real deal. As for him…”
She deliberately dragged out her tone, looking at Jiang Zhaosheng with a hint of mischief: “He’s maintained himself well enough, I suppose? Actually… he’s forty-two this year.”
“Pfft—Cough, cough, cough!!”
The water Wen Zheng had just sipped went straight down the wrong pipe. He clutched his mouth and nose, coughing violently as his face turned red. Shang Yan, naturally, already knew Jiang Zhaosheng’s real age, but his acting was superb, and surprise timely appeared on his face:
“Is that so… Truly… I can’t tell at all.”
Jiang Zhaosheng silently endured the stigma of this “advanced age,” his heart unruffled, even feeling slightly amused.
He had played this boring game since Jiang Wan was small, and he was long used to cooperating with her pranks. It was just… looking at the two Alphas across from him who clearly knew the truth but were still putting on an act, and then at his daughter beside him who knew nothing, the chill in his heart grew a bit deeper.
“Senior Jiang! President—!” The restaurant door was suddenly pushed open, and a girl in a blue student uniform rushed in, panting, her face full of anxiety. “Something happened to a student. The scene is a bit chaotic; the teacher asks you both to head over immediately!”
Jiang Wan’s expression changed, and she stood up at once: “Got it!”
She instinctively pressed a hand on Jiang Zhaosheng’s shoulder: “I’ll go check it out. You don’t need to come.”
Out of selfishness, she didn’t want her father “showing his face” too much in such a chaotic scene, where he would be scrutinized by prying eyes.
“Okay, be careful,” Jiang Zhaosheng replied warmly.
Jiang Wan and Shang Yan left the restaurant one after another in a hurry. Instantly, only Jiang Zhaosheng and Wen Zheng were left at the table.
The next second, Wen Zheng rose from the opposite seat and, in a few steps, crossed over to where Jiang Wan had been sitting, sitting right next to Jiang Zhaosheng. He grabbed Jiang Zhaosheng’s wrist on the table.
Jiang Zhaosheng didn’t immediately pull his hand away. He only turned his head slightly, those blue eyes looking at him with a calm like unruffled water: “Wen Zheng… can I discuss something with you?”
“What?”
Wen Zheng’s heart tightened at the look. Thinking the man was going to twist his fingers again like before, he instinctively wanted to shrink back. However, Jiang Zhaosheng instead took hold of his hand, their ten fingers slowly interlacing with a nearly flirtatious intimacy.
“…What are you afraid of?” Jiang Zhaosheng gave a light laugh. The laugh was low and magnetic, like a feather brushing against the heart.
Wen Zheng’s breath hitched. He couldn’t tell if it was because he was naturally attracted to men or simply because of this man named Jiang Zhaosheng—every single one of his movements stepped precisely on his points of excitement.
“Just now…” Jiang Zhaosheng leaned in slightly, getting closer to Wen Zheng. His voice dropped even lower, every syllable carrying a dangerous temptation. “It was this hand, under the table… being restless, right?”
As he spoke, the interlaced fingers tightened with a sense of punishment.
Wen Zheng had never expected Jiang Zhaosheng to point it out so directly, especially in a public place where they could be heard at any moment.
His Adam’s apple bobbed: “…Yeah.”
His gaze, however, was burning as it stared at Jiang Zhaosheng’s lips so close to him.
Jiang Zhaosheng watched the surging desire in his eyes, the curve of his lips deepening. Just as Wen Zheng was about to drown in this eerie intimacy, Jiang Zhaosheng guided his hand—the very palm that had caused trouble under the table—and pressed it palm-up onto the restaurant table.
“If she found out, I really wouldn’t have any options left.”
Really couldn’t endure it any longer.
Wen Zheng noticed the change in tone and looked at him with concern. Jiang Zhaosheng raised his gaze, those jade-like cat eyes looking directly into Wen Zheng’s eyes. A look of near-broken entreaty actually appeared on his face.
Wen Zheng froze completely. Jiang Zhaosheng had never shown such weakness before. Faintly, the excitement in his heart was replaced by self-reproach. He had never intended to provoke Jiang Zhaosheng further; his actions at the table just now indeed had been excessive. If Jiang Wan had looked down, she would have noticed something wrong.
Wen Zheng explained somewhat flusteredly: “I won’t next ti—”
Thud!
The muffled sound of a sharp object piercing flesh interrupted his unvoiced apology.
Sharp pain swept through his entire body like an electric current! Wen Zheng looked down abruptly, his pupils shrinking—
A cold, hard Bulgari fountain pen, flashing with metallic light, was driven deep into his palm. Blood flowed from his palm, blooming like plum blossoms across the beige tablecloth.
Jiang Zhaosheng slowly withdrew the fountain pen, his blood-splattered face breathtakingly beautiful.
“I know,” he said, raising a hand to wipe a bloodstain from his jaw, his gaze tender. “But… I’m more afraid that you won’t learn your lesson.”
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