ACBAM 73: Sad

Sometimes, Tan Zhao really wants to open up Gu Weiyang’s brain and see what exactly is different in the brain structure of someone with a love brain compared to a normal person.

Gu Weiyang is usually very smart, even the first business genius Tan Zhao has ever known in his life.

Yet when it comes to emotional matters, why does his brain seem to turn into something like a paramecium?

No, it’s actually probably worse than being a paramecium.

He had only been married to that omega for a month and the other person used a work trip as an excuse to deceive him and go to another city. Late at night, he was even in a bar, and Gu Weiyang didn’t even know whether he was alone or with someone else.

And yet, in this situation, he still said the other person’s deception must have a reason!?

Tan Zhao suspected that at some point, Gu Weiyang had already been hexed by that omega.

“Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?” Tan Zhao asked after silently observing Gu Weiyang for a moment.

Gu Weiyang didn’t even look up. “Nothing, but I’m not going to drink.”

“It’s not about drinking.”

Tan Zhao pondered for a moment and then said, “I know a master.”

Only then did Gu Weiyang lift his head from the document and give him a reluctant glance.

Tan Zhao continued, “He has some skill in exorcising evil spirits.”

“…”

Gu Weiyang slowly spoke, “Are you trying to say that I’ve been possessed by an evil spirit?”

“Not just that, your eyes right now look like those of an evil spirit,” Tan Zhao said. When he met Gu Weiyang’s cold gaze, he shuddered violently and quickly raised his hand to shield himself from the intense stare. He quickly explained, “Don’t look at me like that, I’m doing this for your own good. I really think you’re not quite yourself right now. You’re a completely different person from the one I used to know.”

It’s important to note that the rumors about Gu Weiyang in Jiang City weren’t entirely unfounded. Gu Weiyang had always been someone with a rather bad temper.

When Tan Zhao first met Gu Weiyang, he saw him as a human-shaped time bomb—highly intelligent but with a terrible personality. If it weren’t for Tan Zhao’s tolerant nature, he suspected that Gu Weiyang might not have a single friend.

Yet now, it was as if the bomb had been wrapped in a layer of water, calming down.

During meetings, he rarely lost his temper anymore. When employees made mistakes, he no longer pointed at their noses and yelled at them. Instead, he would gently ask if they felt their salary was too low and were considering resigning, or he would make indirect remarks to criticize them.

Tan Zhao even noticed that now, quite a few employees in the company were bold enough to greet Gu Weiyang whenever they saw him.

In the past, when those employees saw Gu Weiyang from a distance, they would scatter like mice spotting a cat, hiding if they could and only mustering the courage to greet him if they had no other choice.

The employees now, when they saw Gu Weiyang, not only walked up to him but also greeted him with a smile, saying, “Good morning, President Gu.”

Gu Weiyang, in a good mood, would smile and reply, “Morning.”

Although everything seemed to be improving, Tan Zhao couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off when he thought about Gu Weiyang’s love brain. It just didn’t seem right—really didn’t seem right.

Gu Weiyang’s recent display of controlling his temper wasn’t because he had truly become more gentle by nature.

It was because he had met someone.

That omega, Su Shijin, was clearly just an omega with a slightly better appearance. Apart from coming from a good family, Tan Zhao felt there wasn’t much that set him apart from ordinary omegas. How could such a person bring about a drastic change in Gu Weiyang?

Now, it seemed that Gu Weiyang had become much gentler, and this change was for the better but if that omega were to leave, if Su Shijin were to walk away from Gu Weiyang, what kind of person would Gu Weiyang become then?

At least Tan Zhao believed that when an omega lied about going on a work trip, only to end up somewhere else, the meaning of that was self-evident.

A normal alpha, especially one who liked the omega, should feel suspicious, anxious, and uneasy in such a situation. That would be the normal alpha response.

After all, there is no absolute trust between humans. Once deception is exposed, suspicion inevitably follows.

But Gu Weiyang wasn’t acting normally.

Not only did he not feel suspicious, but he even had the mood to work.

If this wasn’t the calm before the storm, then it meant Gu Weiyang’s mind was truly messed up.

“Seriously, you should go see the master. At least it’ll have a psychological effect,” Tan Zhao suggested.

Gu Weiyang put down his pen and looked at Tan Zhao, whose mental state seemed even worse than his own, furrowing his brow in confusion. “That would be your psychological effect, what does it have to do with me?”

He didn’t think there was anything wrong with himself.

“Besides,” he added, “it’s my omega who lied to me. Why are you more anxious than I am?”

Tan Zhao choked on his breath, almost unable to catch it. “I’m not worried about him.”

He felt like all his efforts to reason with Gu Weiyang were in vain. With an expression full of frustration and disappointment, he stared at him. “Forget it. I just hope that when your omega comes back, you can still stay this calm. It’d be best if you don’t end up going crazy on me.”

“Alright, the scenario you’re imagining won’t happen. Even if it does, even if the worst-case scenario you’re thinking of occurs, I still won’t lose it,” Gu Weiyang said, picking up his pen again and signing his name at the bottom right corner of the document. The pen tip left a streak of black ink on the white paper, sharp enough to seem like it might pierce through.

“There’s no situation that could be worse than this,” Gu Weiyang added.

Tan Zhao couldn’t understand what he meant. After finishing the cup of instant coffee that didn’t taste very good, he stood up and said, “Do whatever you want. Anyway, it’s late, I’m going to rest.”

Gu Weiyang gave a small “hm” and, just as Tan Zhao was about to leave, spoke up. “Still sleeping in the lounge?”

“Yeah, I don’t feel like going home, and I don’t want to stay in a hotel. The company is the most comfortable.” Tan Yao waved his hand and  closed the office door behind him before leaving.

Gu Weiyang remained motionless while holding his pen, still staring at the door. After a long pause, he slowly withdrew his gaze.

He looked at the ink blot spreading on the paper from the pen’s tip and gave a soft, helpless laugh.

There wouldn’t be a situation worse than this.

But there also wouldn’t be a better one than this.

Gu Weiyang wasn’t indifferent to Su Shijin’s deception. In fact, when he saw the photo, he felt a moment of sadness.

No one is immune to feeling hurt when deceived. Even Gu Weiyang, an exceptionally mature alpha, would feel sadness when the person he cared for lied to him.

He just didn’t want to jump to conclusions and start suspiciously imagining things about Su Shijin without knowing the full truth.

After all, there were many possible reasons for Su Shijin’s appearance in F City. Perhaps he had changed locations during a work trip, or maybe there was other work to attend to there. It could also be that a friend invited him to visit at that time, and since he had the time, he decided to go.

Gu Weiyang couldn’t even say that Su Shijin had deceived him. Maybe the work trip was real and something had happened in between that caused Su Shijin to change locations without telling him.

Gu Weiyang unlocked his phone and stared blankly at the photo, clearly taken from a voyeuristic angle.

Although, at this moment, Gu Weiyang could come up with many reasons to explain Su Shijin’s “deception” and was willing to wait for him to return and offer an explanation, there was also an impulsive feeling rising within him—one that he couldn’t control, even himself.

He missed him.

He wanted to see him right now.

However, in the next second, as the video call started to ring, Gu Weiyang regained his composure and quickly pressed the hang-up button. He didn’t want to put Su Shijin in the awkward position of having to decide whether or not to end the call.

At the top of Su Shijin’s chat box, it showed “typing…” After a few seconds, a message came through: [Did you click the wrong thing? Why are you still awake?]

Gu Weiyang lowered his gaze, his finger lingering on the screen for a long time. Finally, he chose to follow his heart and reply: [No, I didn’t click the wrong thing. I miss you.]

It wasn’t a mistake.

It was because he missed him.