บททั้งหมดของ Leave Me Alone Alphas: บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

They were at their usual Saturday meet-up spot: Zhao Kai’s house, that sprawling mansion smack in the middle of the city like it owned the skyline. Marble floors that echoed, crystal chandeliers that probably cost more than most people’s cars, gardens out back that looked like they belonged in a magazine spread. The air always smelled expensive fresh cut flowers from the landscapers mixing with whatever fancy coffee the kitchen staff was brewing downstairs. Liu Jian had gotten there first, as usual. Yang Jun was the last to arrive, stepping into the house with the late afternoon sun casting long shadows through the grand entrance hall. He passed by Mr. Zhao’s home office, the door slightly ajar, where he overheard Mr. Zhao speaking sternly to Zhao Kai. “You need to focus more on your studies,” Mr. Zhao was saying, tone clipped and heavy with that particular brand of parental disappointment. “Stop hanging around those hooligans. And if you’re going to insist on keeping friends, at l

The day of the birthday had arrived, and Yang Jun, along with his family, made their entrance at the Zhao's estate, each bearing gifts and dressed in their finest. Yang Jun's father, in a bid to impress, had splurged a significant portion of his salary on an exquisite Vera Wang dress for his mother, complementing it with dazzling Tiffany & Co. jewelry. They were set to mingle among China's elite, hoping to fit seamlessly into the high society gathered at the Zhao's banquet hall. The banquet hall itself was a spectacle of luxury and taste. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high, ornate ceiling, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. The walls were adorned with silk tapestries depicting ancient Chinese landscapes, and the floor was polished marble, reflecting the lights like a calm sea. Tables were draped in the finest linens, with centerpieces of exotic flowers that filled the air with a sweet, heady scent. The atmosphere was one of opulence, a testament to the Zhao family's statu

It was the day of the exam. A bitter, freezing morning greeted Yang Jun as he reluctantly dragged himself out of bed. His body felt heavy, every muscle protesting as though it had already run a marathon before the day even began. The air in his room was cold enough to sting his lungs when he breathed in. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, staring blankly at the floor, trying to summon the will to stand. Today was the day everything hinged on, the culmination of years of study and months of relentless pressure. The winter chill was unforgiving. Even after layering himself in thick clothes, the cold still managed to seep through, clinging to his skin like an unwelcome companion. As he stepped outside, snow began to fall unexpectedly, light at first, then steadily heavier. The streets transformed before his eyes, white and slick, traffic slowing to a crawl. Each step felt like a battle, his shoes crunching against the snow as he carefully made his way forward. Stress wrapped

The office day dragged on with all the excitement of watching paint dry. Team 3 once again found themselves playing the role of silent supporters, handling background tasks while Team 1 took center stage in their ongoing project. It was a familiar pattern, one that had quietly cemented Team 3’s reputation as perpetually lagging behind in the internal race for recognition. The work itself was not difficult, just endless. Spreadsheets, revisions, feedback loops that seemed to circle back on themselves without ever truly ending. Yang Jun leaned back in his chair for a brief moment, staring at his screen as if it might blink first. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, moving more from habit than enthusiasm. Around him, the office hummed with restrained boredom, the kind that pressed down on everyone’s shoulders. Fan Yimei was the first to crack. “I can’t take this anymore,” she announced suddenly, pushing her chair back with exaggerated force. “If we manage to finish today’s work, I’

The moment Yang Jun stepped into the office, he was hit with a cacophony of voices, each one trying to outdo the other in volume and urgency. Questions, half sentences, and speculation collided in the air, creating a wall of sound that made his already throbbing head pound harder. He froze just inside the doorway, blinking as his coworkers surrounded him, all speaking at once as though he were the missing piece to some office-wide mystery. His head spun with the confusion of it all, the lingering effects of his hangover mixing unpleasantly with the stress radiating from everyone around him. He could barely process a single word, let alone string together a response. His stomach twisted, a familiar sense of dread creeping up his spine. “Wait, wait, I need one person to talk at a time!” Yang Jun pleaded, raising his voice over the din. His hands came up instinctively, palms facing outward in surrender, though it did little to slow them down at first. Gradually, the noise tapered off,