Chapter 214: The Quiet Things

*Bael’s POV*

"Can I... work here?"

The question leaves Bael’s lips before he can construct a better excuse.

Runze looks up, his amber dark eyes searching Bael’s face. For a long second, the room remains still.

Ling Yue is curled on the wide armchair beside the desk, his red-rimmed eyes fixed on his lap. Runze’s arm stays resting over his shoulder, his hand resting gently against the nape of Ling Yue’s neck to offer comfort.

Bael’s gaze drops to that hand.

Then it drifts to Ling Yue.

Then it returns directly to his husband.

He can tell why Runze is holding him. He knows Ling Yue is going through a difficult time, and he knows Runze is simply being a good friend. There is nothing improper about it. Nothing at all.

Yet an uncomfortable tightness twists in Bael’s chest.

It has little to do with Ling Yue himself. It stems entirely from the fact that Bael spent his entire morning trying to stay out of Runze’s way.

After everything Runze said during their conversation earlier, Bael understood that his husband needed breathing room. He also knew Ling Yue was in the middle of a personal crisis.

So Bael chose to be sensible. He stepped back. He left them alone, walked up to his room, sat down at his desk, and forced himself to focus on Wuchen Group tasks.

He answered messages, reviewed financial summaries, approved schedule changes, pushed through tasks that usually take no effort whatsoever.

But his thoughts kept returning to the study at the end of the hall.

He wanted to know how Runze was feeling. He wanted to sit near him. He wanted to hear his voice. And if Runze didn’t want to talk, Bael was more than willing to sit in silence and do nothing at all beside him.

Instead, he stayed hidden away, giving them privacy until he could no longer stand the isolation.

And when he finally gave up on pretending to care about those reports, he walked down the hall, opened the door, and found Runze holding someone else.

But because Ling Yue is hurting, complaining about it is out of the question. Bael has no valid reason to be upset, which only makes the irritation sharper.

He takes two steps into the study.

"I thought you were working in your office," Runze says softly, his tone neutral.

"I was."

Runze’s eyes dip to the tablet in Bael’s hand. "And?"

"I have more to finish."

A tiny shift touches the side of Runze’s mouth. "In here?"

"Yes."

Bael walks toward the armchair near the windows overlooking the yard. He deliberately avoids looking at Ling Yue again. He sits down, taps the screen to wake his tablet, and opens the exact page he stared at for twenty minutes upstairs.

Across the room, Runze gently lets go of Ling Yue, walks back behind the desk, and sinks into his own chair.

As he settles in, Runze shifts slightly, leaning back against his seat.

Bael looks up instantly. "Are you uncomfortable?"

"A little," Runze admits.

Bael stands up before Runze can say anything else. He walks to the low storage cabinet near the wall, picks up a spare cushion from the shelf, and carries it over.

Runze watches him closely as Bael sets the cushion behind his lower back.

"Better?" Bael asks.

Runze adjusts his weight against the extra support.

"Much better."

"Good."

Instead of returning to the far armchair by the window, Bael pulls another chair directly up to the edge of Runze’s desk and sits down.

He reads three lines of the financial draft before Runze moves his hand toward the water glass near his laptop. Bael reaches out, picks up the glass first, and hands it over to him.

"Thanks," Runze says, taking the glass from his grip.

Their fingers touch briefly. Neither of them acknowledges the contact, but Bael feels the brief warmth linger on his skin as he settles back down.

From the armchair, Ling Yue sits quietly, watching the exchange.

Bael notices the gaze. Ling Yue’s eyes move from the glass in Runze’s hand to Bael, then back again, his expression thoughtful and quiet.

Bael doesn’t know what the look means. He doesn’t ask.

A few minutes pass in silence. Runze reaches toward the corner of the desk for his laptop cable. Bael slides the cord closer before Runze has to lean forward.

Runze stops, giving him a quiet look.

"You really are hovering."

"I am sitting," Bael replies plainly.

"Very attentively." Runze lets out a quiet chuckle.

Bael returns his attention to the tablet.

This is fine.

He can work here. He doesn’t need Runze to talk to him. He doesn’t even need Runze to pay attention to him.

Being in the same room is enough.

At least, that is what he tells himself.

The financial report in front of him might as well be written in another language.

He reads the same paragraph twice. Then a third time.

Across the desk, Runze shifts in his chair, the faint rustle of fabric drawing Bael’s attention before he can stop himself.

He looks up.

Runze is simply working. Bael looks back down at his tablet.

This is ridiculous.

Then, the phone in Bael’s pocket begins to ring.

He pulls it out and checks the screen. The name on the display makes Bael’s expression change instantly.

*Jin Hao.*

His jaw tightens. He swipes the screen to take the call.

"Yes?"

There is no greeting from the caller.

"Is your wife with you?" Jin Hao asks immediately.

Bael’s eyes narrow. He looks toward Runze.

"...What?"

"Your wife," Jin Hao repeats, his tone strained and demanding. "Is he with you right now?"

The lack of courtesy makes Bael’s voice drop several degrees.

"Why are you asking me?"

"I’ve been trying to reach Ling Yue," Jin Hao says, his frustration spilling over the line. "He isn’t answering his phone. It’s turned off."

Bael says nothing.

"I wanted to know if your wife has him there," Jin Hao continues.

The phrasing makes Bael’s grip tighten around his phone. Not simply because Jin Hao is looking for Ling Yue, but because he called Bael directly to demand answers—as if Bael owes him an accounting of who stays in his home.

"I don’t see why that is any concern of mine," Bael says coldly.

"I just need to know where he is."

"Then perhaps you should consider why he hasn’t told you himself."

Silence stretches across the line. Bael hears a sharp breath from the other end.

"He is my Omega," Jin Hao says, his tone hardening.

A cold edge settles over Bael’s features.

"And?" Bael asks calmly.

Jin Hao hesitates.

"If he does not wish to speak with you," Bael says, keeping his voice strictly level, "calling my private line will not change that."

"I was simply asking whether—"

"And I am telling you that I have nothing to offer you."

Bael ends the call without waiting for another word.

The room is silent. He lowers his phone slowly, staring down at the dark screen.

The arrogance of the man leaves a cold irritation sitting beneath Bael’s skin. They barely know each other, yet Jin Hao calls his private line and immediately demands information about someone staying under his roof.

As if Bael owes him an explanation.

Bael sets the phone face-down on the desk.

"Who was that?" Runze asks quietly.

Bael looks up. "Jin Hao."

Ling Yue’s fingers tighten in his lap, his shoulders drawing in slightly. Runze sees the movement immediately and places a hand on his arm to ground him.

"What did he want?" Runze asks.

"He wanted to know if Ling Yue was with us," Bael replies, looking over at Ling Yue. "He doesn’t know where you are."

Ling Yue lets out a long, quiet breath, his posture relaxing just a fraction. He looks up, meeting Bael’s eyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Wuchen."

"No need," Bael says. "I don’t give strangers details about my household."

He rests his hands back on the desk, his focus returning entirely to his husband.

Runze is already watching him, a soft, faint smile touching his mouth.

"What?" Bael raises one eyebrow.

"Nothing," Runze says quietly. "...You’re still annoyed."

Bael keeps his face clear of emotion. "I am working."

"You are staring at that tablet like you want to break it."

Bael looks down at the device. The same page of text is still open. He taps the corner to close the file.

"I am fine."

Runze’s smile grows slightly wider, though he doesn’t press further.

"If you say so."

Bael doesn’t answer.

He certainly isn’t going to confess that he spent the morning upstairs wishing for his husband’s attention, only to walk down and discover someone else receiving the affection he wanted.

Especially when that person was crying over a broken heart. Bael is no longer heartless. He understands boundaries.

Even so, his eyes glance briefly toward Runze’s hands resting on the desk.

He turns his head away.

Perhaps he should start crying too. Apparently, that is how one gets a hug today.