Chapter 19 — Does He Have Two Faces Too?
Wu Fuyu went rigid, almost crushing the wineglass in his hand. He had heard of Alphas today who liked Alphas, and he had even heard of a few brain-fried ones in their circle who wanted to “experience” the thrill of conquering an Alpha to feel like a real man.
To him that was perversion. He never imagined he would run into a little pervert himself.
So that is why Godzilla keeps catching my eye over and over?
And the worst part is, it worked. He really did catch my eye.
Rong Jing glanced once and looked away. Just now he had been nothing more than a bystander eating melon seeds, a little curious, no more. If he followed that line of logic, the Omega who crashed into him might have been Gu Xi. The moment he recalled that soul-hooking scent, his nose tingled. That was like ten bottles of Erguotou at once, dizzying enough to never forget.
Do not go there. That is poppy.
And he is a man, yes, a man.
The moment the thought formed, the spark of heat that had flared in Rong Jing died down at once.
In the original book, Wu Fuyu’s little brother should still be attached in the end. Gu Xi was extremely weak during the heat, and a few wild slashes only one struck true. There was not a river of blood, but he still showed up at the hospital covered in it, scaring the staff half to death and nearly hitting the front page, with the Wu family pressing the story down. That crossed the king-of-the-world Wu Fuyu, and what man can stay calm after getting his manhood nicked? The later string of deranged revenge episodes followed, and quite a few borderline stunts came courtesy of Wu Fuyu himself.
No one knew what Rong Jing and Wu Fuyu were thinking. On the surface they only stared. Wu Fuyu’s raised glass never made it into Rong Jing’s hand.
Thinking an Alpha had been hit on by another Alpha blew Wu Fuyu’s temper purple. He was mortified, enraged, and, remembering Godzilla’s violence stat, trapped between advance and retreat.
Xie Ling noticed the spectacular changes on Wu Fuyu’s face and flicked Zhou Xiang a look: what happened. Zhou Xiang was still composing a diplomatic way to deliver the thunderbolt when a stir rose by the doors. Many guests flowed that way, and greetings began volleying in waves. A few celebrities who had wrangled invites by special means, seeing Xie Ling’s side was hard to breach, pivoted toward the new arrival at once.
Whatever extra expression Wu Fuyu had drained away. He strode quickly over, shouldered through, and bowed with formal respect. “Dad.” The fearless Wu Fuyu, in front of this man, was as obedient as a little quail.
Xie Ling set aside the problem of his little brother for later. He slid an arm around Rong Jing, who had zoned out again, and straightened his tie. “Come on. Say hello.”
Whoever could make Xie Ling take it seriously had to be someone. The whole roster of heavyweights was already here; this one arrived late, and judging from the ripple of surprise, his appearance was a rarity in itself.
Seeing Xie Ling approach, the crowd parted. The newcomer was tall, in a perfectly cut suit, hair neat to a fault. His features were about fifty percent like Wu Fuyu’s, but where he differed was in the gentleness of his eyes. A few fine lines at the corners hinted at age. Gold-rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, lending him a cultivated intelligence. He was like a pot of tea steeped on a mild winter day, long-brewed and rich. Standing near him felt like bathing in spring light.
“Xiao Ling, you have grown,” he said, ruffling Wu Fuyu’s hair with palpable fondness. “I have looked at your recent acquisitions. The waves of the Yangtze push the ones before them.” He smiled. “My boy has caused you trouble.”
There were not many who could call Xie Ling “Xiao Ling.” Even men older than him rarely would. Status decides tone.
Xie Ling actually allowed a small smile. “Uncle Wu, you flatter me.”
Rong Jing’s pupils tightened. He knew who this was.
Wu Fuyu’s father, Wu Hanqi, the name drawn from Liu Xiang’s “Nine Laments” in the Chu Ci: “I bear sorrow and grief and am downcast.” Read as Wú Hánqī. The wish embedded in it was a life without care.
Why a life without care? Because Wu Hanqi was a Beta. In most households’ common sense, as long as a Beta lived undisturbed, that was enough.
But Wu Hanqi’s nature was to buck fate. When the Wu clan teetered on bankruptcy, he rose above a pack of Alpha brothers, hacked his way through the thorns, and took the helm. He unleashed a storm of reforms, raised capital, persuaded regional leaders, and won national grants for projects. The adhesive patches that cover Omega nape glands, for example, were invented and refined by his company. The Wus had started on the rough side of the tracks; after going fully legitimate, their methods remained wild, with a whiff of blood the business world seldom sees.
Wu Hanqi was the man who single-handedly hauled the house of Wu back from the brink. To say Wu Corp was his empire alone would not be overstating it.
Unlike others, Wu Hanqi did not ignore Rong Jing beside Xie Ling. There was warmth and a touch of nostalgia in his eyes. “Xiao Jing, do you recognize me? It has been years. Will you give your uncle a hug?”
He opened his arms, as if he truly missed Rong Jing.
Wu Fuyu stared. Why on earth did his father know a nobody an entire generation younger whose name carried no weight at all?
Rong Jing did not move. He looked at Wu Hanqi without expression. The original owner’s memories were more than twenty years’ worth; they took time to digest, and the ones the original owner had not cared to hold on to, Rong Jing had not tried to memorize.
He hauled up a fragment from some neglected corner. The original had followed his mother into the Xie estate and felt painfully out of place, a beggar who had wandered into a palace. Back then, Xie Ling had discovered his little brother liked animals but had allergies, so he never kept any. He specially chose a Sphynx, a hairless cat.
He miscalculated. The allergy was not to the fur but to proteins on the animal. The gossip among the household was that Xie Ling had picked it to humiliate Rong Jing, a reminder that he was a surplus burden.
The original believed it and was heartsick. He still loved the cat. In that empty mansion, it was his only friend.
Until the Xie second young master and his pals tortured the cat to death. When the little creature, burned over its body, lay gasping on the ground and tears hit the floor one by one, the original owner seemed to hear its despairing plea and, with shaking hands, ended the cat’s pain himself.
He buried it in tears. It happened to be the night of a Xie family banquet. Wu Hanqi stepped out for air and found a boy burying a kitten.
Seeing how the child could barely breathe for crying, he took the wailing kid back to his own quarters and kept him for a few weeks. When work dragged him back to Shanghai, he returned the child to the Xies.
The original, then, clung desperately to the only adult who had been gentle to him.
He had run after the car, begging Wu Hanqi to take him along.
Rong Jing covered his face. Remembering little Rong Jing bawling, snot and tears everywhere, begging to be taken away was… mortifying.
Kids say what they feel. Kids say what they feel.
The original owner hated this memory because in his mind it was abandonment by the person he loved most. But from those recollections and Wu Hanqi’s micro-expressions, Rong Jing could tell the man did not think much of the child beyond an amusing apple to pat now and then.
He felt all eyes swing his way. Wu Fuyu’s glare practically flamed. If he refused, it would be an insult to the Wu family.
Rong Jing stepped forward and gave Wu Hanqi a polite embrace. A refined cologne unfurled from the man’s diamond cufflinks, tasteful without overpowering, like a gentleman born of an old house. Nothing about him said “from the underworld.”
Cologne, typically, is a Beta’s choice, a scent free of pheromone undertones.
Wu Hanqi released him and patted his shoulder the way he had patted Wu Fuyu’s earlier, paternal and warm. “Almost nine years, hm? You were just a little thing at uncle’s place. Now you are nearly as tall as me.”
“Uncle Qi has not changed either. You still look very young.” Rong Jing was not being polite, Wu Hanqi did look young. Standing next to Wu Fuyu, he could pass for an older brother.
“Fu, Xiao Jing is a little older than you. Get along with him,” Wu Hanqi said gently.
Wu Fuyu grinned without mirth and bobbed his head.
If only you knew, Dad, the “Xiao Jing” you are praising is a creep who has designs on your son. Would you still smile like that?
“Hahaha, Old Wu, what wind has blown you here, rare guest, rare guest!” Down the stairs came Xie Zhanhong with Han Lianmei on his arm.
Xie Zhanhong had already reassembled himself. Han Lianmei beside him looked like a flower about to open, cheeks flushed and heavy with seduction. It was not hard to guess what they had just been doing. Rumor had it that from youth he had wanted both meat and vegetables, and his appetite was… robust. Not undeserved.
People looked from the Xie brothers to the head of house with meaningful eyes.
Xie Ling and Rong Jing ignored the looks. In Rong Jing’s case, the interaction with Wu Hanqi had turned him into a pot of honey for wasps. People who had ignored him earlier now swarmed, including a few second and third-tier stars who had thought him handsome but not worth the time.
Rong Jing thought Wu Hanqi had just bought him a stack of trouble. When another Omega idol drifted over, he made an excuse and slipped outside for air.
Xie Ling swept the room and went cold. “Where is Xie Jisheng? Still not here?”
Zhou Xiang said, “Second Young Master called. He said if the young master is present, he will not come.” Second Young Master had always loathed the little one.
Xie Ling’s face iced. “He has gone too far. After what happened, he thinks we are all blind?”
“Where is he now?”
“I heard an engine behind him on the call. Probably the switchbacks on the half-mountain road.”
On a mountain road at night, what else but racing.
Xie Ling pressed fingers to his brow and offered apologies to those nearby, then stepped out to call Jisheng himself.
From a distance he saw Rong Jing, who had ghosted out at some point, standing dazed in the garden.
That spot was where the cat he had gifted had been buried. When he was young he had thoughtlessly tried to care for his brother and had made his allergies worse; after that, the boy had only grown less willing to come near him.
From the corner of the villa bounded a happy Labrador, charging for Rong Jing like it had found a dream bone. Xie Ling’s expression tightened and he started forward. He had already told the staff to keep that silly dog leashed. It was old and belonged to the guest house. He had not expected it to be smart enough to work a latch.
Rong Jing had been replaying plot lines. He now recalled that Wu Hanqi counted as one of the book’s “strategic captures,” nicknamed 6X by readers. He was the most popular supporting character aside from the main five, the only Beta capture route, and a hidden one at that, with sky-high popularity because his gentle, handsome looks had earned him the nickname “Beauty Qi.” He always showed up at crucial times to help Gu Xi, seeming both interested in him and as if toying with him. Gu Xi feared and respected him, and mostly kept his distance.
If the person in the mall had been Gu Xi, then the story was still early days and his heat should be happening these few days. His heats were brutal; suppressants had to be dosed higher and higher, and because of his instability his pheromones always hit like a freight train. Only a temporary mark from a highly matched Alpha could ease it, and the text never introduced such a match. What was worse, any Alpha who got close wanted to mark him on sight. Why would he go take a compatibility test?
He was in the middle of that thought when something hurtled at him. He focused and saw a Labrador, tongue lolling, eyes full of joy, dragging a staffer at the end of a leash. Rong Jing’s body reacted before his brain, his skin started itching.
In his last life, animals loved him. His family said he was a friend of the forest; when he walked into woods or grasslands, it was like a parade of beasts. In this life he had drawn the allergy card. Not friendly.
Thankfully the attendant hauled back on the leash at the last second and stopped the dog’s flying tackle.
“You look familiar,” Rong Jing said, realizing why. He had almost not recognized him in a different outfit. “Ah, you are the one from before. Thanks. I am a little allergic to cats and dogs.”
It was the same server he had rescued.
Gu Xi kept his head low, looking shy.
He had noticed Rong Jing step back when he saw the dog, so he grabbed the leash, thinking the man was afraid of dogs. Allergic made more sense.
“I will wash your jacket and send it back here. Is that alright?” Gu Xi said softly.
“The jacket is fine even if you do not. Are you okay? Has he bothered you again?”
“No. You do not need to worry.” Gu Xi turned to leave. Trouble clung to him; even if he did not seek it, it found him. The kinder someone was, the less he dared to approach. He wanted to repay kindness quietly, without getting close, without disturbing.
He had meant to return the leather wristband Rong Jing had dropped. He had kept it on him, thinking if they crossed paths he could hand it back. His fingers paused in his pocket.
There was so little kindness in this world that even a little felt precious.
In the end he decided to be selfish and return it later. He tugged the still-excited dog along. The dog looked back at Rong Jing with pleading eyes and Rong Jing pretended not to notice.
Gu Xi hesitated, then said, “Do not help people like that in the future. Not everyone will thank you. Not everyone deserves it.”
Rong Jing blinked. The boy in front of him sounded far too old and far too bleak.
“Are you saying you do not deserve it?” he asked.
After a long pause, the boy nodded. “... Yes.”
Because I am trouble. Anyone who gets involved with me will be dragged in and buried in it. Maybe Heaven just has it out for me.
That answer was not what Rong Jing expected. Was he… angry that I helped him?
Did I meddle?
He almost stepped closer, but the boy backed up and Rong Jing felt something in the air. He did not go further.
He could feel no malice from him, and the gratitude was real. It was just that the person before him was wrapped in a quiet sadness, as if paging through memories.
“I would have done it even if I had not seen you. And I have limits,” Rong Jing said with a small laugh. “I cannot help everyone.”
He believed it. He would kick the habit of meddling, sooner or later. One day he would learn to look away.
He watched the boy’s figure vanish into the dark, let the night wind pass over him, and spaced out again.
He crouched and touched the tiny grass sprouting from the mound. Buried here was the original owner’s first pet and most painful memory. He had killed his own little companion with his hands.
A shadow fell. Rong Jing looked up to see Xie Ling.
Only now did Xie Ling realize that his brother had liked the cat he had given him, and that the boy had hated him all these years because of his clumsy thoughtlessness.
“When I chose that cat, I did not realize how severe your allergy was.” He had been young, newly in charge, swamped with work. He had thought allergies to cats meant fur, so a hairless one would solve it.
He tossed the explanation down and walked off, all hard edges.
It was the first time he had ever explained himself, stiff and awkward.
In the hazy moonlight, two brothers who had drifted apart seemed to find a new starting line.
“I know, brother,” Rong Jing said with a smile.
He still missed the family he had lost, but if he was here, he had to look forward. This world, too, held people worth staying for.
Xie Ling’s mouth twitched up, then snapped back into a line. “Good.”
Gu Xi was passing under the wisteria trellis with the dog when he saw, from far off, a man on the phone. Wu Hanqi inclined his head toward him, as if the other’s status did not matter, he treated everyone with the same courtesy.
That approachable manner was one reason the Wu family’s reputation had climbed for years. Many had forgotten where he came from. Even if Wu Fuyu was a handful, he had a very on-the-ball father.
Gu Xi quickened his pace, one palm over his thudding heart. He should not have been recognized.
Rong Jing returned to the banquet. A server topped him up with orange juice. Across the room, Xie Ling sent him a look that read: no booze, you are a kid.
Not far from Rong Jing hovered Ji Leping, wanting to speak, unsure whether to approach.
He wrestled with it, and only after a long debate did he sidle over. “R-Rong Jing?”
Do young masters of real clans really cosplay as the little match girl to experience the sufferings of the human world?
Before, Ji Leping would have said no way. Now he was not so sure.
His family was a collateral branch of the Ji clan and not well regarded. Same surname, very different treatment.
He should not have made the guest list today, but this year the Ji family was dipping a toe into entertainment with a small studio. As someone who had been skirting the industry for years, he was cheap labor and familiar. No sense in letting the chance go to an outsider, so they brought him along to see the world and, if possible, collect a few business cards.
Ji Leping, class clown that he was, had slipped inside and made half his classmates green with envy. Egged on by them, he opened a locked livestream room for their class only, to let everyone “experience the high life” together.
The Xies kept things discreet, so he limited the stream to a handful. His classmates were curious what tier of wealth the Xies belonged to; in the capital there were too many rich households to tell at a glance.
Munching cake, he said, “Ever heard the phrase ‘invulnerable and flawless’? It is a pun used to describe the four families with the most stable assets. When people say first-tier lineages, they mean Wu, Xie, Ke, and Ji. Order shifts a bit from year to year. Recently the Wus are the hottest, specializing in electronics and high tech. Those Omega neck gland patches? That is theirs. They are No. 1 in that space, so their heir has a special nickname, the Crown Prince. Yes, the ‘national Alpha’ the influencers and starlets scream over. Want a look? Let me see if he is here.”
He panned the phone across the ballroom. When he returned to the chat, the screen was full of exclamation points.
- Look again, did that one look like Rong Jing?
- As if Rong Jing would be here! Be serious.
- Maybe my eyes are playing tricks.
- Mine are definitely playing tricks. Are yours?
He was about to say impossible, then remembered the Xies did have a little master who never showed up in circles. People knew the name; faces, no.
He had also noticed Zhou Xiang, the assistant who was always at Xie Ling’s side, slip out after them. Heart pounding, and driven by his classmates’ chants, he followed quietly and captured something explosive. He even recognized the blond kid: a freshman at the film academy who had come in full of bluster. His family ran a small entertainment company linked to a training house and sent fresh meat every year. Since the Crown Prince came to the capital, the kid had played gofer to him.
And yet the man who might be Rong Jing had hurled that little princeling into the pool like a sack of rice. The motion was smooth, fast, and vicious.
Holy Sh***. Standing ovation.
Was this the same Rong Jing he knew, the one who never fought back when hit or cursed? Did he have two faces?
Lu Jin, whose palms were blistered from hauling boxes, had only wanted to experience a bit of capitalist decadence between loads. He was not prepared for that. More than anyone he knew that might well be Rong Jing.
He had confronted Rong Jing head-on. The man was terrifyingly good at playing the pig to eat the tiger, slow and mild on the surface, deep and dark underneath.
Compared to the blond, he himself had received a spring breeze. Lucky, in a sense. He could not help thinking: if I had kept my word immediately back then, would he have let me off anyway?
Because he remembered it clearly: Rong Jing had only deleted the video after he had decided to honor the bet. Which meant Rong Jing had been watching him the whole time.
Could someone that meticulous, that observant, really have let him bully him for years?
If even his identity was fake, then what was real? Was the only thing waiting for me now a double-down of payback?
A cold wind hit. He shivered. The librarian caught him slacking and said coolly, “If you do not want to work, you can leave.”
Lu Jin swallowed. “I—I will keep working…”
When Ji Leping shut down the room, his class chat exploded.
Was that Rong Jing or not? If it was, was he a hidden gold mine after all? Why would he cosplay poverty through four seasons, rain or shine? The arguments turned heated. It did not take long before someone, no one knew who, brought the rumor onto the school forum.
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