Baby, You Should Break Up with Him - Chapter 3

Second floor of Xianghuan, second half of the evening.

Lazy, relaxed deep house music pulsed with a low-frequency heartbeat. Feng Wen leaned back in the soft sofa, one long-fingered hand resting casually at his side, the other holding a glass that swayed gently with the rhythm as he swirled it.

Ignoring Ding Yizhou’s look that clearly said “What’s wrong with you?”, Feng Wen recalled the scene in the restroom just moments ago—that obedient yet wary deskmate lead singer who’d lit his cigarette for him.

It was just too amusing. Feng Wen tilted his head back and took a sip of his drink.

At school, he always acted like some unwanted stray cat—either sniffling and crying all day or already passed out at his desk from sobbing. With so many tears to spare, he never knew how to use them properly—whimpering and pleading just to get a few words in with his fiancé, Shen Che, pitifully tugging at the hem of his pants.

And the result? Every word out of his mouth was more unpleasant than the last, until he got kicked far away.

Feng Wen had always thought Xie Zhizhi wasn’t very bright—even his methods of trying to attract an alpha were too clumsy to be worth a second glance.

Under Ding Yizhou’s completely bewildered gaze, Feng Wen curled his lips into a faint, clearly intrigued smile.

“Did you piss your brains out along with your urine?” Ding Yizhou asked, baffled.

The phone on the table suddenly lit up. Seeing the caller ID, Feng Wen’s lips quirked up again—this was getting even more interesting. He raised a hand to signal a bemused Ding Yizhou to keep quiet.

He reached over, his thumb lightly brushing the screen to slide and answer the call.

“Hey, A Che,” Feng Wen said.

“Where are you?” Shen Che, who should have been sweet-talking some newly-acquired omega, sounded strangely downcast, his tone drooping like a dejected golden retriever.

Feng Wen raised an eyebrow but didn’t press for details, answering succinctly, “Bar.”

The location was just what Shen Che wanted to hear. “Which one?”

Feng Wen thought for a moment. “Xianghuan.”

“OK, wait for me.” Shen Che hung up abruptly.

In less than half an hour, the golden retriever arrived on the scene.

As soon as he reached the second floor, Shen Che habitually took a seat near Feng Wen, leaving a noticeable gap between them that suggested no particular closeness. Feng Wen glanced at it, then calmly averted his eyes.

A dark rum-based cocktail was gently pushed in front of Shen Che. He picked up the glass naturally and took a sip; the enthusiastic sweetness of toffee softened his expression slightly.

A few seconds later, the glass was slapped back onto the table.

Feng Wen raised an eyebrow, recognizing this as the prelude to the dog’s barking.

Sure enough, Shen Che scowled, swept back his fallen golden hair, and angrily opened his mouth—

“He stood me up.” This was the opening bark.

The other two exchanged a knowing glance. Feng Wen lowered his eyes as if he’d expected it, while Ding Yizhou looked as if he’d rather die, downing a shot like it was torture.

The reason was simple: Shen Che’s complaints were not only as annoying as incessant barking but also prone to “accidentally” stepping on unspeakable landmines.

Whose landmines? That depended on Shen Che’s mood.

Lost in his misery, Shen Che didn’t notice the atmosphere shifting toward subtle resistance. After a painful trip down memory lane, his once sunny, handsome face slowly twisted.

“We agreed to meet up, but I waited for him at the restaurant for two hours!”

“I’m a very patient person. I didn’t make my first call until he was an hour and a half late, asking if he’d run into some trouble. But he hung up without a single word of explanation.”

“What the hell does he mean!? He could’ve just rejected me outright instead of making me wait two hours!”

Shen Che grew angrier the more he thought about it, taking an irritated sip of his Dark Surge cocktail, “Do you have any idea what it was like sitting alone in Skyview Garden from dawn till dusk, then having to tell the waiter to bring the bill while staring at completely untouched appetizers?!”

Pulling out his phone, Shen Che fumed, “Now he won’t even answer my calls! What the fvck did I do wrong?!”

The sudden phone light made Feng Wen’s smoke-gray eyes narrow instinctively.

After adjusting to the brightness, his gaze drifted from top to bottom of the screen, confirming the call log was indeed filled with unanswered outgoing calls. Feng Wen noticed the specially edited contact name—Heart Wen Xuyan Heart.

So, the omega outside the window today was named Wen Xuyan.

Standing up Young Master Shen after accepting his invitation was certainly… unexpected.

Feng Wen raised his hand, pressing his thumb gently against Shen Che’s wrist to push the overly close phone away.

He drawled lazily, “It’s not like he’s leaving Deland.”

Implied meaning: can’t you just go find him tomorrow?

Shen Che gasped incredulously, “I get stood up and now I have to go to him?”

“You could always not go.” Feng Wen waved a dismissive hand as if to say the choice was his.

Ding Yizhou, understanding the underlying tensions and fearing the fool would keep crossing lines, chimed in: “Yeah, just ask around when the time comes. Why the rush?”

Shen Che snorted lightly.

“Alright, I give up. Have something good to eat.” Ding Yizhou tried to distract Shen Che, winking and tilting his chin toward the first floor. “Check out our Ryose lead singer—definitely not worse than whatever omega today.”

Shen Che completely ignored him, so Ding Yizhou single-handedly gripped his face and stubbornly turned it.

—The whole downstairs was going wild; he truly refused to believe everyone in the world was as sexually repressed as Feng Wen with his locked-up d1ck.

Resistance futile, an irritated Shen Che roughly swept his disheveled blond hair behind his ear before finally looking down in the indicated direction.

The stage lights were seductive.

A sliding beam of light swept across the man’s black lace leather mask, lingering rhythmically on his pale, sensual Adam’s apple before trailing down along smooth satin, kissing its way all down to the tightly cinched waist cincher.

The tall man swayed carelessly to the drumbeat, his voice as seductively rich as aged red wine. As the final rest note arrived, his narrow waist just happened to twist into a supple, sensual curve. Though revealing nothing, the crowd’s cheers grew even more feverish than the music.

Feng Wen took it all in, finding it truly amusing.

His fingertips tapped idly against his thigh.

Watching Shen Che, Feng Wen smiled oddly and, before Ding Yizhou could speak, asked slowly, “A Che, what do you think of this lead singer? Pretty hot, isn’t he.”

Ding Yizhou looked as if he’d seen a ghost, swallowing back his “Did you change genders?”

The addressed Shen Che withdrew his gaze and gave a noncommittal nod: “Yeah, not bad.”

Not bad.

The slight curve of Feng Wen’s lips fell away.

Shen Che kept his gaze fixed ahead, swirling his wine glass as he added casually, “Can’t even see their faces, so it’s just like that. Those who are really attractive wouldn’t resort to this kind of thing, right?”

Ding Yizhou grumbled in dissatisfaction, while Feng Wen remained noncommittal.

After a few more drinks, Feng Wen leaned back into the sofa, raised his hand to summon a waiter, whispered a few words, and handed over a black card.

When the waiter returned, he took the card back and slowly rose to his feet under the watchful eyes of the other two.

Ignoring Shen Che’s confusion and Ding Yizhou’s disbelieving look at the realization of being left behind, Feng Wen tossed out lightly, “Heading out first.”

His steps carried him decisively toward the exit.

—

At half past one in the morning, Xie Zhizhi, back in casual clothes, collapsed onto the couch in the break room.

Zhang Ge, Zhang Siyi, pushed the door open and swept a complicated glance over the “corpse” sprawled on the sofa before remarking with a sigh, “Sweetheart, I knew you were valuable, but I didn’t realize you were this valuable.”

Xie Zhizhi looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Zhang Siyi leaned against the wall with crossed arms and said pensively, “Do you know how much Ryose made in tips alone tonight?”

Xie Zhizhi couldn’t be bothered to guess. “Not in the mood. How much?”

Zhang Siyi crossed his fingers and held up both hands, forming a ten. “Nearly 140,000. One handsome guy alone tipped you 100,000.”

Xie Zhizhi raised an eyebrow. “Oh—not bad. But it might not have been for me.”

Zhang Siyi chuckled. “If not for you, then for the drums or the bass? Is there anyone on that stage hotter than you?”

Xie Zhizhi blinked, turning his head with an innocent expression. “Well, no, there isn’t.”

“Smartass.” Zhang Siyi kicked him lightly.

Before they could chat further, a small head peeked in from the doorway.

A long-haired, black-haired omega looked over timidly, as if wanting to say something. Xie Zhizhi let out a teasing laugh, swiftly gathered his things, and left Xianghuan.

The night breeze was cool.

Xie Zhizhi sat in the taxi, scrolling through social media, scrutinizing each word like reviewing official memos.

Communication Forum

HOT / The Sudden Scandalous Love Triangle at Delan University—Why Is Your College Life So Much More Dramatic?

1L: I love you, you don’t love me, you love him—the life of a young master is just different from us common folks (200 words omitted)

2L: Decoded at a glance OVO

7L: Am I the only one who doesn’t get it? Please explain the formula.

18L: Honestly, it’s hard not to believe it’s scripted.

54L: Rumor next door says the young master skipped class for a date and got stood up. The drama just leveled up.

66L: So, where’s the storyline at now?

75L: At the “I love you, you don’t love me, you love him, but it seems he doesn’t love you anymore” stage.

88L: Wow, Delan U’s recruitment brochure has—

89L: Wow, Delan U’s recruitment brochure has—

90L: Wow, Delan U’s recruitment brochure has—

…

123L: Anyone want to guess tomorrow’s simp formula for X? 😀

128L: Classmate here, todays were ribbon apple. Not many formulas left to try…

129L: Young master has basketball practice tomorrow, betting on the court ^-^

133L: Delivering water at the court hasn’t been done yet, placing my bet~

145L: So, cliché, so tacky—

146L: So, cliché, so tacky—

147L: So, cliché, so tacky—

148L: So, cliché, so tacky—

…

Having finished his review, Xie Zhizhi blinked as if enlightened, satisfied, and got out of the taxi.

Anhuan Bay.

Xie Zhizhi leaned against the elevator handrail, pressing the button for the 26th floor with a light tap of his index finger.

After a brief moment of weightlessness, the elevator doors slid open to reveal an interior decorated with meticulous and expensive taste.

Even with the Xie family’s fortunes in decline, he remained the sole young master of the household. As the saying goes, a starved camel is still bigger than a horse—and the Xie family hadn’t truly starved yet. Thus, while paying exorbitant accommodation fees at Deland University, Young Master Xie could still afford a spacious, standalone luxury apartment in the nearby upscale Anhuan Bay.

This made it clear that being a masked lead singer at Shanghuan wasn’t a last resort for the young master—it was simply a personal preference.

In the bathtub, Xie Zhizhi rested with his eyes closed, feigning sleep. The steam had flushed his face with a moist, faint redness. A droplet of water trailed from the right corner of his forehead along the perfect curve of his brow bone, scattering like it had merged into the sea upon meeting his eyelashes.

This tranquility didn’t last long. Five minutes later, the phone placed on the ledge beside him began to vibrate with a low hum.

Xie Zhizhi’s eyelashes fluttered slightly. After a few seconds, he half-opened his eyes, revealing dark pupils brimming with annoyance.

He stared at the caller ID displaying “Madam Song” for a good while, resigned to the fact that some things were unavoidable, and pressed answer.

Xie Zhizhi: “Mom.”

Song Wanqing responded with a tired voice, “Zhizhi, have you been very busy lately?”

Not really. But Xie Zhizhi still gave a diplomatic reply, “A bit. Studies are intense.”

Song Wanqing said with concern, “Don’t overwork yourself. Mom would be heartbroken.”

Xie Zhizhi paid it no mind and replied, “Okay, Mom.”

They chatted leisurely about daily life for a few minutes. Just as Xie Zhizhi thought he might smoothly get through the evening with this mother-son harmony, Song Wanqing abruptly changed the subject:

“How have things been with Shen Che lately?”

Xie Zhizhi pinched the bridge of his nose. Here it was—the real purpose of this call.

“Pretty good,” Xie Zhizhi lied through his teeth. “I check in on him every day, and we talk regularly.”

If being told to “get lost” daily counted as talking.

Unaware of the twists and turns in his mind, Song Wanqing’s tone warmed with relief. “That’s good.”

“Get along well with him, and marry soon, okay, Zhizhi?”

“Okay, Mom.”

Xie Zhizhi responded obediently, sinking deeper into the water until it reached just below his lips.

He hummed a few vague sounds into the phone to appease Madam Song, his mind involuntarily drifting to fragmented, disjointed images in the steam-filled haze.

For instance, Shen Che standing against the light, his emotions as cold as ice, starkly contrasting his sun-gold hair.

That damn mouth of his—pretty but incapable of saying anything decent—moving just enough to spit out, “I don’t like betas.”

Xie Zhizhi thought, That’s gender discrimination. I would never say something like that. I’m thoughtful, objective, fair—and thoroughly disgusted by that dog, Shen.

Another image: Madam Song, still graceful and charming past forty, gazing at him earnestly. It was the first time he realized that the lifelong socialite could grip his wrist with such surprising strength.

Those bright red lips said softly, “This engagement must be set in stone, Zhizhi. You’re sensible. You know your father’s company is in serious trouble…”

Xie Zhizhi thought, I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you, Ms. Song. Gender discrimination isn’t so easily overcome. Shen Che has a physiological defect—that idiot can only get it up for omegas. We won’t come to a good end.

For example, …

“Zhizhi, are you listening?” Ms. Song asked.

“Yes, Mom.” Xie Zhizhi’s tone was impeccably gentle and obedient.

He stood up from the bathtub, stepping out dripping wet.

The mirror reflected the beta’s profile—not as aggressive as the average alpha, nor as delicate and pitifully charming as the average omega. His exceptional DNA and young master status lent him an air of refined, aloof nobility, even without secondary gender differentiation.

Xie Zhizhi grabbed a towel to dry off and, ignoring Ms. Song’s ongoing nagging from the phone, walked out naked.

Just before her soft, pleading words faded completely from his ears, Xie Zhizhi heard her sigh, as if on the verge of tears.

She said, “Zhizhi, if only you were an alpha or an omega.”

Zhizhi, if only you were an alpha or an omega.

Xie Zhizhi calmly climbed into bed, pulled up the covers, and stared unblinkingly at the ceiling with dark, somber eyes. For a full five minutes, his mind—already foggy from the steam—couldn’t form a single thought. Only when his feverish body temperature had completely cooled did he slowly close his eyes as if finally, aware.

In the darkness, he heard many voices disgustingly muddled together, all lamenting in unison, “How could he be a beta?”

Yeah, how could he be a beta.

He wished more than anyone that he weren’t a beta.