When Xia Wennan heard that Ming Qin was done eating, without a second thought, he said, “Let’s get going then. We can head back and rest for a bit before getting back to work.” During that lunch break, Xia Wennan relinquished his lounge to Ming Qin and sat on his desk chair, leaning backwards and legs up on the table as he napped with his arms crossed over his chest. In the hazy midst of sleep, Xia Wennan vaguely sensed someone watching him, and when he opened his eyes, it was to the sight of Ming Qin standing right in front of him, staring at him unblinkingly with a morose face. Xia Wennan gave a start and involuntarily kicked at the table, which sent his chair sliding backwards and bumping against the floor-to-ceiling window. Once he returned to his senses, Xia Wennan patted his chest and said, “What are you doing?” Ming Qin folded his arms over his chest and took a deep breath, saying, “Xia Wennan, be honest with me, am I old?”
Xia Wennan let out a perplexed, “Huh?” which, after some thought, was followed by, “You’re not old, really? People in their fifties are considered middle-aged nowadays.” “That’s not what I mean at all,” said Ming Qin. “I wanted to ask if I’m old, as an omega—am I no longer attractive to alphas?” Xia Wennan sat up straighter in his seat. He clutched a handful of his unkempt hair, his face contorted in bewilderment. “I’m a beta—you should be asking alphas.” Ming Qin said nothing and averted his gaze to the window. When Xia Wennan became a little more awake, he realised how unseemly it looked to still be sitting while Ming Qin stood in front of him. He then stood up, leaned against the edge of his desk, and asked, “Are you angry?”