SATC C14

Chapter 14 – Come Here

“Don’t say it in front of him,”

Ling Yibo raised his glass and pointed it in the air, “or I won’t be able to stop him from being the first to kill you.”

Ying Zhuchao pondered this, unable to grasp why Ling spoke with a hint of boastfulness. He clinked glasses reluctantly and politely: “I believe he can.”

How lucky he was; once, at a social gathering in their circle, he and Ling Yibo coincidentally both brought bodyguards.

At that time, Chu Yang was still young and a stranger. Some curious onlookers incited a challenge, boasting: word was Second Young Master Ling had a particularly formidable bodyguard, and today, Ying’s own bodyguard was present—why not compare them?

Whistles and early applause broke out.

Ling Yibo lounged on the sofa, sipped his wine, long arm draped across the backrest, wearing a smile but saying nothing.

There was a sense of the powerful choosing to remain silent and free, waiting for Chu Yang’s response—

Only for Chu to strike without mercy: swift, precise, no punches missing. Ying, so close, couldn’t see how the blows landed.

Every strike was lethal.

Finally, he kicked Ying’s bodyguard to the ground, then half-kneeled and pinned the man with an elbow—without stepping on him.

Respectfully sparing Ying’s face, yet definitively victorious.

Ling Yibo, the instigator, applauded first, only to strip the newly regained pride from Ying Zhuchao’s face again.

Ying prided himself on indulging Ling since youth, but Ling’s naturally aggressive nature and penchant for fighting meant frequent inexplicable conflicts between the two notable S-rank Alphas.

Now, at the banquet’s light show—a small climax with a suggestive atmosphere—

Golden curtains unfurled vertically on the second floor of Yanhe Pavilion, shimmering with shifting light. Ying and Ling’s figures swayed amidst it, two brilliant young talents drawing the crowd’s eyes as they conversed with important guests.

Taking advantage of the moment, Chu Yang adjusted his crooked ear microphone and briefly asked: “Any abnormalities?”

“Front hall secure.”

“Backyard secure!”

Responses came over the comms.

“Good. Contact if needed. Keep watch a bit longer.”

Chu whispered, removing his sunglasses. A waiter with a trolley passed by, and Chu casually grabbed a mask, covering half his face. “The Second Young Master has been drinking again. Tonight’s going to last awhile.”

In movies and TV shows, bodyguards wearing sunglasses is cliché. Chu disliked it, but it helped reduce recognition at the masquerade ball the Ying family hosted.

Most dancers at the ball were young and lively.

Wearing the violet butterfly mask made Chu far less conspicuous; the probing looks lessened considerably.

The mask covered only half his face, the eye opening shaped with a lifted corner.

Over comms, chaotic voices lamented, making Chu smile beneath the mask—the only visible expression a curved, twinkling eye: “Alright, alright, when we’re done tonight, I’ll treat you all to barbecue.”

“Hooray! Garlic eggplant!”

“Charcoal-grilled beef.”

“Mission ends soon, we’ll take out?”

“That would get caught by Second Young Master. No way…”

Chu’s temple darkened. “Focus on work first. No slip-ups.”

Greetings exchanged, Ying Zhuchao and Ling Yibo met several respected island elders they had known since youth.

Old friends marveling at Ling’s growth, asking about his sports, hinting him to consider suitable-age Omegas, and asking him to relay their regards to Ling Feng.

Ling responded politely and circled the room, stopping by a massive gilded harp.

He leaned back, massaging his brows, then glanced at Chu Yang trailing closely.

The man stood tall and graceful, quiet and dignified. Even with his face obscured by the mask, his profile and the visible eye revealed he was strikingly handsome.

Ling’s thoughts wandered to those suitable Omegas mentioned by the elders.

He tugged lightly at his collar.

Suddenly agitated, dry-mouthed,

Ling gestured to Chu with a finger gun—hand raised, index and middle fingers together, curling inward—“Come over.”

“Yes.” Chu stepped forward and stood at attention.

“I want that,” Ling Yibo pointed to a lemon-flavored soda on the drink table, “You try it for me.”

Chu nodded and picked up a glass, sipping, then handed it to Ling.

Ling took the glass, turned it, and drank it all in one gulp. Placing it back, he said, “It’s okay, but a bit too sweet.”

“…”

Chu couldn’t help but defend the innocent lemon soda, “It’s definitely sour.”

“I tasted sweetness. Want another?” Ling wiped the lip stain.

“Yes.” Chu tried another glass swiftly and grabbed some syrup from the corner, handing it over.

“Cough, cough.”

This time Ling frowned genuinely.

Looking at the lemon syrup, then at calm Chu, he guessed it was a prank and smiled excitedly, “No need to test anymore. Even toxic drinks probably taste better.”

“Really,” Chu’s voice carried some laughter, “How come I think this glass tastes sweet?”

Seeing Chu’s half-hidden smile, Ling’s Adam’s apple moved.

The carbonated soda he swallowed was slow to register, bubbles bursting like tiny fireworks.

Though knowing he had been pranked, Ling was oddly delighted, hands in pockets, wiping his mouth with his fingertip: “Come with me to the bathroom.”

Ling lifted his chin, signaling Chu to follow.

“Yes.” Chu ended his comm and trailed behind.

If following at the banquet was required, then even to the bathroom was no exception.

Any distance over ten steps was a failure to protect.

Yanhe Pavilion’s VIP restroom was discreet — walls and floors clad in warm beige stone, reachable only after a narrow passage and facial recognition.

Chu inspected first, then adjusted the violet butterfly mask in the mirror, turning to mirror Ling’s arrogant gesture, chin raised, motioning him inside.

Chu’s zealous professionalism grated on Ling, who approached and stopped. “You need my permission to go to the bathroom?”

“I didn’t zip your pants.” Chu stated factually.

“You didn’t?”

Ling left with that airy comment, leaving Chu puzzling over its meaning.

Standing outside the restroom grew tiring for Chu’s back.

Seeing no one nearby, he relaxed, kneaded his lower back, then suddenly felt an Alpha’s presence approaching.

Chu couldn’t smell pheromones but his bodyguard instincts were sharp.

“Come out.”

Leaning against cool stone, staring into the large mirror reflecting everything behind him, he couldn’t hear footsteps over the running water, unknowingly turned on.

A shadow flickered; Ying Zhuchao’s face appeared in the half-length mirror.

He said nothing, simply washing his hands while watching Chu intently, gaze scrutinizing, almost judging.

After drying his hands with a soft towel, folding it, and tossing it in the trash, Ying stepped beside Chu and lowered his voice: “Chief Chu, you may fool Ling Er, but not me.”

Though his nose registered no scent, Chu could imagine Ying’s pheromones were dangerous.

Ying’s gaze landed on Chu’s shoulder, probing, incredibly rude, as if about to reach for the back of Chu’s neck.

Chu’s face beneath the mask was expressionless. “Mr. Ying, I don’t quite understand what you mean.”

“Really can’t smell anything?”

Ying leaned closer, as if sniffing some aura from Chu, eyes closed then reopened. “Or are you using incredible willpower to control it…”

“Mr. Ying,” Chu interrupted, “I’m on duty protecting Second Young Master Ling. Please do not disturb.”

Ying fell silent and retracted his pheromones. He couldn’t find any flaw beneath Chu’s icy mask.

Suddenly, a broad arm blocked Ying’s path — Ling Yibo stepped between them.

“He’s working.”

Ling’s smile curved upward, eyes bent, yet no amusement. “It’s inappropriate to disturb him like that.”

If Ying’s pheromone release was a probe, Ling’s response was a clear show of force.

The tall Alpha trembled slightly, sweating at his temples. His fists clenched tightly at his sides, and he staggered back against the marble wall.

Leaning back, the pressure lifted.

Ying raised an arm to steady himself, casually glanced at Chu, and said to Ling, “Ling Si’an’s former man? You still want him? Ling Er, you’ll end up burned.”

Two young masters spoke; Chu stood silently with bowed head and closed eyes, ears closed off.

Yet upon hearing that sharp remark, his eyelashes twitched.

“No matter what, you shouldn’t test my people behind my back,” Ling frowned, “I don’t like it.”

Ying was silent, no longer debating, pushed down his jacket hem, sneered, and left.

With Ling’s sudden outburst spoiling the mood, he lost interest in the game. Plucking Chu’s neck, he said, “Let’s go. Boring. Just ignore Ying Zhuchao acting crazy.”

Chu didn’t expect the gathering to disperse so quickly. “Where to?”

“Back to Mingshui Bay.”

Feeling pain from his wound, Chu gasped, involuntarily ducked his head, accidentally elbowing Ling’s chest.

Ling staggered several steps back, hitting his head against the restroom door’s full-length mirror with a loud crack.

“You better not touch me so casually.”

Chu nodded silently, chest rising and falling; his voice was a warning: “Especially the neck. It’s sensitive.”

I shouldn’t have agreed to take this mission from Ling Feng, Chu thought in frustration. If I hadn’t come back to Ling Yibo’s side, our conflict wouldn’t continue; it’d be better to just end it like that.

“The neck is the absolute domain between Omega and Alpha,”

Ling leaned against the mirror, panting like he enjoyed the hit. He grinned, “So, do you feel something too?”

Chu couldn’t help but ruin that smile.

“Then just wait until I differentiate into Alpha and bite your glands to pieces.”

With that, Chu didn’t follow Ling out of the restroom. He led the way.

Ling naturally caught up, grabbed Chu’s shoulder, and casually removed the butterfly mask from his face, whistling. “Why so mad? I’m not trying to embarrass you… What a waste to hide that face.”

His tone was softer and weaker than even he realized.

“Sunglasses are uncomfortable,” Chu said. “I saw masks being handed out here, so I took one.”

“Can you skip sunglasses?” Ling asked.

“No. Step one of a close bodyguard is de-identification — best not to draw attention and avoid trouble.”

Chu was about to suggest Ling not order such flashy tuxedos next time when laughter interrupted.

Ling said, “So what if you’re noticed? You’re already famous by my side, Chu Yang. Everyone knows you, envies you… Everyone wants to steal you away. Of course, I keep a close watch.”

Feeling the Alpha’s territorial air, Chu understood why Ling had exploded just now. He turned his head.

Softly, he said, “Ling Er, I don’t think Mr. Ying meant that. Don’t overthink it. I’d never leave the group for his family; that’s basic professional code.”

Ling paused in surprise. “I’m not worried you’d run off.”

“I won’t.”

Chu seized his mask and put it back on. “At least until the Yushui protection mission ends, I’ll stay by your side.”

Though masked, Chu felt as if a piece of his chest fabric, flesh, and bone had been stripped away.

Only his heart glinted bright, exposed before Ling.

“What guarantee do you give?” Ling demanded.

“You can prepay my salary, so I won’t run away.” Chu tried a clever suggestion.

“Money again… Is that the ‘Chief’s contract spirit’?”

Ling’s eyes scanned him with complicated emotion. After a long moment, he continued, “No need to prepay. I’ll pay double monthly, but I want you to halve your close protection distance.”

That meant 2.5 meters.

Starting today, Ling demanded Chu shorten his guarding distance to 2.5 meters—two hundred fifty centimeters.

Was he describing himself?

Idiot. If you fought someone, isn’t that like right in their face?

Chu considered the likelihood of injuring Ling at that distance. After serious thought, he deemed it manageable and nodded, agreeing.

The unfriendly negotiation between superior and subordinate ended.

Chu turned on his comms, instructing the other two teammates to escort Ling out the Yanhe Pavilion back door.

From afar, watching the pair walk one ahead of the other, Chen complimented Chu at the wrong time with a whistle: “Brother Yang, you look so handsome today!”

Then tried to flatter, “Second Young Master, you look handsome too.”

Falling short as usual, Chen was quickly pinched on the arm by Li Guanqi and hustled into the waiting SUV.

Using the air conditioning preheat inside, Chu stood roadside by Yanhe Pavilion, inhaling the humid sea breeze.

He suddenly wondered what it felt like to smell another’s pheromones.

Ying Zhuchao, also an S-rank Alpha, reacted strongly to Ling’s pheromones. Ling’s scent must be intoxicating, aggressive…

Perhaps the hidden scent of the man grown into a true adult — a soul only his partner might touch.

Removing the butterfly mask, he pulled out his phone and searched the web, curious about the scent —

Typing into the search box: “Long, She, Lan” (Dragon, Tongue, Orchid).

The first page had no description of the scent—only a brief encyclopedia entry:

Agave (Dragon Tongue Orchid) has ornamental value and is used to brew tequila; its fibers produce ropes. Moreover, it’s an important source for steroid hormone drugs, such as adrenal cortex hormones and androgens…

Further down, the flower language of Agave reads: “Parting, the pain of separation, and self-sacrifice for love.”

Chu twitched his nose.

His expression was calm, as if he’d just caught a whiff of Ling Yibo’s pheromones—a strong, spicy aroma with a slight sour edge.

Footnotes:

1. Dragon Tongue Orchid (龙舌兰) — The Chinese name for the Agave plant, the raw material for tequila.

2. Flower language — The symbolic meaning attributed to flowers; here, Agave symbolizes farewell, painful parting, and sacrificing everything for love.

3. Pheromones — Chemical signals released by individuals, often conveying mating or territorial messages, with distinct odors and effects in this story’s context.