The afternoon sun over East District's old street spilled like crushed gold across the mottled blue-brick pathway.
When Julian Huo pushed open that slightly weathered glass door for the third time, the clinic was filled with a peculiar, mixed aroma of disinfectant and warm cat food. The wind chimes let out a crisp clink, yet the expected greeting from the nurse's station never sounded; the surroundings were so quiet that only the sluggish spinning of an old-fashioned ceiling fan overhead echoed through the space.
Standing at the threshold, Julian's gaze shifted marginally before locking onto the open consultation desk further inside.
Louis Lu was lowering his head slightly, his somewhat faded white lab coat hanging open casually to expose a clean, sharp neckline. At this moment, his long, steady hands were exceptionally lightly and slowly wrapping a white bandage around the hind leg of a stray orange cat.
The large orange cat lay flat on the cold alloy surface with a thoroughly world-weary expression, propping up its rotund belly. A pair of round cat eyes stared deathly at the doctor who was "fiddling" with it, its throat emitting a perfunctory purr every now and then.
"Look at you. There are thirteen restaurants on one street that you could have visited, yet you stubbornly insisted on rummaging through the trash cans in the back alley."
Louis's movements were gentle, yet his mouth babbled like a chanting monk, nagging with zero emotional fluctuations:
"Rummaging is one thing, but you just had to get struck by Old Man Wang's rat trap next door. Constantly manufactured trouble for me day in and day out. Tell me, are you actually a stray cat, or a scammer cat specifically stationed at my door to extort me?"
Julian stood tall and upright in the entryway, his hand-tailored black suit accentuating his commanding, icy-cold stature. The CEO, who was historically renowned in the business sector for being swift, resolute, and unsmiling, looked at this image of a man and a cat "confronting" each other, and a sliver of warmth—which he himself hadn't detected—actually surfaced within the depths of his profound eyes.
The sharp, cold contours accumulated over years and months thoroughly melted away in this exact instant.
"Does Dr. Lu handle veterinary work as a side gig too?"
A low, magnetic baritone suddenly erupted within the quiet clinic, carrying a highly faint, bantering slice of amusement.
Louis's fingers wrapping the bandage paused marginally, yet his expression remained completely natural as he snipped the gauze cleanly. He slowly lifted his head, those clear-as-ink eyes scanning Julian through his lenses, his tone as tranquil as a routine report:
"This is my lunch break, Mr. Huo. If my memory serves me correctly, your appointment time is at 2:00 PM. It is currently 1:40 PM."
"I know."
Julian lifted a hand, loosening his tie slightly as he launched his long legs to walk inside exceptionally naturally. Halting half a meter away from the consultation desk, his dark eyes stared unblinkingly at Louis's delicate yet expressionless countenance, his voice low:
"I was passing by, so I stepped in to look."
"The Huo Group headquarters is situated in the downtown financial district, whereas this is East District's old street."
Louis tied a beautiful final bow for the large orange cat, then tapped its backside to signal it to climb down on its own. He stood up and strode over to the sink on the side, turning on the faucet to permit the cold water stream to wash over his fingertips, his voice carrying over through the rushing sound with an un-polite clarity:
"Geographically speaking, there doesn't seem to be anything between those two locations that can be classified as 'passing by,' Mr. Huo."
Turning off the faucet, he pulled a sheet of paper tissue and methodically wiped the moisture from his fingertips, his knuckles turning faintly white from the force:
"Have a seat. Since you arrived early, we'll begin directly. What are the symptoms this time? Stomach ache? Insomnia? Or... did you treat black coffee as water again while pulling all-nighters for corporate board meetings?"
Julian did not immediately walk toward that exclusive consultation chair.
He merely stood in his original position quietly, watching Louis strip off the latex gloves to expose a pair of hands that were excessively beautiful, even carrying a touch of scholarly refinement.
"I want to treat you to a meal."
Julian opened his mouth abruptly, his voice dropping a fraction lower than before.
Louis's movements wiping his hands instantly seized up. That tissue paper—which was just about to be crumpled into a ball—stagnated in his palm for two seconds before he slowly turned his body around, tossing the waste paper precisely into the bin, and arched a single eyebrow with perfect composure.
"Mr. Huo," Louis leaned slightly against the sink, crossing his arms as his gaze behind his lenses carried a doctor's scrutiny, "if my memory hasn't degenerated, what I told you last time was 'stop fabricating excuses to visit the hospital.' Not 'you may switch to a different excuse to visit the hospital.'"
"It's not at the hospital."
Julian took a step forward, his massive frame unique to a top-tier Alpha instantly closing the physical distance between the two. However, he did not release even a single millimeter of the oppression typical of a superior ruler; instead, he retracted all of his sharp edges.
"It's the weekend."
His voice was as low and introverted as ever, yet if a member of the Huo Group Board of Directors were present at this moment, they would certainly be shocked to discover that this ruler—who was historically as unyielding as a blade—had a tail end to his voice that trembled ever so slightly and imperceptibly upon uttering the words "the weekend."
That was a fluctuation unique to extreme nervousness, one that had never surfaced even during negotiations dictating the direction of tens of billions in capital.
"My grandfather mentioned he wants to see you. During my last visit back to the old estate, I accidentally brought up your matter to him, and the elder is quite curious," Julian added, his eyes tracking Louis's closely.
"Curious?" Louis repeated those two characters lightly, a half-smile hooking up the corners of his mouth. "What exactly did you tell the Elder Mr. Huo about me?"
Julian's Adam's apple rolled up and down, a highly faint trace of awkwardness flashing within his dark eyes, yet his face maintained that stoic countenance capable of remaining unfazed even if Mount Tai collapsed before him:
"I said you were... the absolute first person who dared to squarely write 'stop fabricating excuses to visit the hospital' directly onto my private medical chart."
A somewhat subtle silence expanded within the clinic for a time.
Even the large orange cat, who had just had its hind leg bandaged and was preparing to leap off the table, seemed to capture a certain unusual atmosphere, lying back down obediently while its cat eyes darted back and forth between the two humans.
Louis remained silent for a brief moment.
Then, he extended his hand, methodically stripping away the medical mask that concealed more than half his face, exposing his entire delicate, pale visage which lacked even a single shred of superfluous expression.
He did not answer directly whether he would go or not; instead, he lifted his head slightly to meet Julian's burning, serious gaze, asking word for word:
"Mr. Huo, do you know what it actually means in this society for an ordinary Beta to walk alongside a top-tier Alpha like you?"
Those chasms concerning class, the absolute deficiency of physiological instinct, and the external world's perpetual pessimism toward marriages lacking pheromone compatibility constituted a towering wall that was near-impossible to leap over within long-standing societal concepts.
"I know."
Julian did not possess even a single second of hesitation.
His dark, heavy eyes were brimmed with a staggering certainty, his voice as indestructible as a boulder:
"The stubborn resistance of the Huo Group Board, the malicious cameras and long spears of unscrupulous media, and those tedious external doubts and criticisms. Louis, I have handled matters ten times more troublesome and filthy than these during the prior thirty years of my life."
Louis merely watched him quietly.
The Alpha before him still wore that straight, meticulous, and expensive suit while sitting on the narrow consultation chair, his expression remaining as unyielding as a legendary blade freshly unsheathed. Yet at this exact moment, the things flashing within his eyes were incredibly clean—
It was not the paranoid possessiveness an Alpha customarily held toward prey, nor was it the high-and-mighty conquest desire of a wealthy elite.
Rather, it was a... highly simple, even somewhat clumsy, and utterly pure seriousness.
"Fine then."
Louis let out a long, thorough breath, appearing to compromise, yet also looking as if he had been lightly scorched by a certain blazing heat hidden beneath that unyielding exterior. He straightened his frame slightly, beginning to organize the messy medical apparatus across the desk, his voice returning to its routine flatness:
"The weekend. But I have one condition."
"Name it," Julian's fingers resting against his knees tightened marginally.
"From this moment onward until the weekend arrives, do not let me detect even a single shred of residual black coffee within your blood panel reports again."
Louis turned his head, narrowing his eyes somewhat dangerously through his lenses, his tone carrying a sliver of wicked threat: "Otherwise, next time, CEO Huo, the prescription I draft for you won't be mild traditional medicine to nurture your stomach, but a highly fast-acting laxative."
Watching his solemn manner of joking, the corners of Julian's tightly set lips finally curved upward, highly lightly and highly beautifully, in this very moment.
"Alright. I'll listen to you."