Chapter 2 – Oh? Two More Faces Hiding There?
Rong Jing had already decided that forcing a rotten melon to taste sweet was pointless. He planned to find a chance to break up with Qi Ying and set the guy free.
He never even got to think up a decent reason before the other party brought it up first. Could things really be this convenient?
Because he reacted a beat slow and fell silent, Qi Ying assumed he was heartbroken. Hearing Rong Jing say “Okay,” Qi Ying grew convinced the man was at the brink of collapse. No one understands the terrifying blowup of an Alpha better than an Omega. Qi Ying’s expression sobered and his voice turned cautious. “Rong, Rong Jing, you are calm right now, right?”
With how skinny he was, Qi Ying was sure Rong Jing could flip him over with one arm. Never overestimate an Alpha’s manners during a breakup.
If Rong Jing had burst into tears and begged like before, Qi Ying would not have thought much of it. But now, with a distant look and fewer words, he only said a single syllable. It sounded like something that had nothing to do with him.
An Omega like him had already stooped to accept Rong Jing. How could Rong Jing be so indifferent to breaking up? Impossible. He must be holding it in. He was definitely angry.
Qi Ying himself could not tell if he wanted to see Rong Jing explode or just quietly end things. Rong Jing’s reaction was too unexpected.
The mood went stiff. Rong Jing looked up at Qi Ying, trying with honest eyes to say he truly agreed. “I am very calm.”
Watching Qi Ying’s face shift from disdain to displeasure to a subtle anger, Rong Jing felt that the people in this world were not like back home. The man at the restroom earlier had been the same, jumping at shadows like Rong Jing was some beast ready to attack.
Qi Ying studied him closely for a while and finally realized Rong Jing really did mean it. He agreed to break up and truly did not care.
Somehow, even though he was the one who proposed it, a fire started burning in Qi Ying’s chest.
He was the campus beauty of his department, enrolled in the Film Academy’s School of Film and Television Art and Design, majoring in Character Styling for Film. Yes, it was a mouthful. When he took the entrance exam, he agreed to be assigned anywhere. Aside from the hotshot Acting Department, this major had the lowest cutoff that year.
Here he had played a small trick. When you went outside and said you were from the Film Academy, who would bother to ask which department? You still had chances to brush shoulders with directors and screenwriters.
Even if he was not from Acting, he was the department beauty and a rare Omega, and Rong Jing had chased him for years. How could Rong Jing accept it so easily? Was that appropriate?
Across from him, Rong Jing sipped cappuccino and absentmindedly stroked a cat. It was as if Rong Jing silently answered: appropriate.
Qi Ying felt unwilling. He wanted to say more, at least see Rong Jing show stronger emotions for him. He had plenty of ways to handle Alphas, habits born of years of being coddled.
His earlier simmering anger shifted into teary fragility. “I didn’t want this either. I really didn’t want things to end like this. Look at you, you are an Alpha but you lack presence and charm. There were so many good audition opportunities before, why didn’t you grab them? How many times have you let me down?”
The original owner would have felt crushing shame under that soft, gentle voice. But Rong Jing’s thoughts had gone on a tangent. Seeing a man, this soft and delicate, he felt a bit physiologically out of step.
He kept telling himself that even if his worldview had shattered, it could be rebuilt. Accepting six genders would be hard, but it could be done slowly. So as not to embarrass the other party, he nodded politely.
Seeing no effect, Qi Ying went in harder. “You are always hesitating. Do you realize how many Betas are doing better than you?”
For an Alpha, that was an insult. No Alpha could tolerate being compared to Betas.
Qi Ying glanced at the hole in Rong Jing’s sock beneath the table. If it were the original owner, he would have wanted the floor to swallow him up. He was thrifty, yes, but never wanted to lose face in front of Qi Ying. Rong Jing, however, looked unfazed.
Qi Ying would never know they were not even on the same wavelength. Rong Jing did not register the cross-gender contempt at all.
“You know what I have always wanted, but now you cannot even get an audition. I don’t see a future for us.”
Bit by bit, a problem that started with Qi Ying became a problem of Rong Jing being useless, always disappointing him, leaving him no choice but to walk away.
Rong Jing listened quietly without refuting. Qi Ying suddenly felt maybe Rong Jing loved him too much, so he was suppressing his feelings.
Slowly, Qi Ying drifted from nitpicking to venting, speaking sincerely of his hardships. Rong Jing even made him a fresh coffee, which only highlighted how good Rong Jing could be. Where would he find another devoted lapdog like this if he let him go?
Rong Jing looked attentive, but his mind had long since wandered. He stroked the Golden Shaded cat on his knee and thought about the person he had glimpsed on the TV and that film.
Qi Ying eventually ran dry, though he still had more to say. He had an internal audition that night with a director of a new film, arranged by his patron. He could not afford to miss such a chance.
Rong Jing might be a good lapdog, but at the end of the day he was a tasteless bite, a pity to throw away. This was called cutting losses in time. Thinking so, Qi Ying calmed down.
Checking the time and remembering when the antihistamine would wear off, Rong Jing stood to settle the bill. Knowing Rong Jing lived frugally and was strapped for cash, with holey socks and clothes that looked unchanged for days, Qi Ying rushed to pay, only for Rong Jing to stop him. “I got it.”
Finally wrapping up the original owner’s leftover problem, Rong Jing felt a weight lift. Losing a little money to ward off disaster, and besides, a man should show some manners when out.
Short, simple, and firm. Qi Ying’s face flushed faintly. He stood where he was, oddly obedient. Why did Rong Jing suddenly seem attractive? Was he imagining it?
Watching several cats trotting at Rong Jing’s heels, Qi Ying’s expression turned strange. Rong Jing was a year above him. There had been strays on campus but they never liked him. He had also visited this cat café many times. The feline overlords here were famously aloof and rarely approached people unless there was food. He had almost never seen them this clingy.
“They seem to really like you,” Qi Ying said.
Rong Jing glanced at the Golden Shaded cat lying on his foot and made a casual sound of acknowledgment. In his previous life, animals had always liked him. He did not see anything odd about it.
Right before they parted, seeing how down-and-out Rong Jing looked, Qi Ying actually felt a flicker of pity. He had an audition notice he had given up on because the role did not suit him. He borrowed a pen from the waitress, wrote the time and place, and stuffed the note into Rong Jing’s hand. “You can’t keep muddling through life like this. No Omega will be willing to settle for you if you go on like that. An Alpha should make something of himself.”
In his old world, Rong Jing had always been well-mannered. Even if he disagreed, he listened to others and rarely embarrassed people to their face. His reflexes were a second slower than most. He replied, “I will take your advice into consideration.”
From the memories he had, the original owner’s boyfriend was clingy and willful. Rong Jing’s policy today was to go along, because as the saying goes, inviting a god is easy, sending one off is hard. First, send him off.
His tone was ordinary, but to others it sounded earnest. Qi Ying felt like he had punched a pile of cotton. The rest of the disdain caught in his throat.
Neither noticed the red-clad Omega who had come to pay, shooting Qi Ying a scornful look. Rong Jing paid with the original owner’s X-Pay, saw the debt that had to be cleared by early next month to avoid interest, and felt a sudden urgency to make money. For heaven’s sake, the whole world got rearranged, yet X-Pay still stood strong?
He had searched the famous figures from back home, and none existed here.
After paying, his phone rang. Seeing the caller ID, Rong Jing’s heart skipped. He slid his slippers back into the sanitizer and hurried outside.
Right after he left, the red-clad Omega called out to Qi Ying. “Hey, what you said just now really rubbed me the wrong way.”
The caller was the original owner’s mother. Her voice was cautious. “Your father says if you come home, he will unfreeze your cards.”
Rong Jing did not know how to answer. This silence was exactly like the original owner’s. The woman on the other end was used to it. Her voice trembled. “Come see me, will you? This is your home too.”
Someone seemed to pass by the phone. A cold snort sounded after her words. “If he has so much backbone, then he can die out there. Don’t come back and dirty our floors. Disgusting.”
Hearing that voice, Rong Jing frowned hard. The original owner’s anger and grief surged in him. He wanted to argue for him, but no one in that house wanted to understand. He let it go. Sense is wasted on those who refuse to listen. Even if you vent, what is the point?
The original owner’s mother, startled by the voice behind her, stammered, “S, Second Young Master.” Then the line went dead.
From the original owner’s memories, he knew what that house was like. This call meant the runaway saga was nearing its end. There would probably be a second call soon. But more than the awkwardness of going home, he worried about facing the person who knew the original best. If she sensed anything off, that would be big trouble, even if this world did not yet have movies about transmigration.
He did not plan to pretend to be the original owner long term. Temporarily, fine. For the rest of his life, absolutely not.
When he went back inside to offer a quick goodbye, he found Qi Ying still at the register, arguing with the red-clad Omega, voices rising.
What was this now? The red Omega looked familiar, the same one who had blushed and nodded at him by the round sofa earlier.
Wearing an off-shoulder red tee, the androgynous Omega pushed back long curls with utter confidence. “So what if I want to? I can support him. What era do you think this is? Who decided the Alpha has to earn the money? You want Alphas to be successful, why don’t you go be successful yourself?”
Raised on pride, Qi Ying hated being contradicted. He glared. “Well, aren’t you a little tramp. I could smell the stink from across the room. This is between me and him, mind your own business.”
The red Omega was no pushover. “From what you said, you broke up, right? If you broke up, he is single. Anyone can chase him. I already thought you were annoying. Indoors and you still won’t take off your sunglasses, think you are some big star? Pray tell, who knows you? Hehe.”
That jab hit Qi Ying’s sore spot. He shot back with a nasty crack about the other’s gender. The two went at it, lively as a street show.
Watching the scene, Rong Jing thought of how soft and shy both had looked before. Most of the time, yes, Omegas gave a sweet and gentle impression. Even when Qi Ying said unpleasant things, he did it in a soft voice. But once no Alpha was around… oh? Were there two extra faces tucked away?
He glanced around, seeing the same look of disbelief on nearby Alphas. Their stereotypes about Omegas had just been refreshed, and their life outlook took a small crack with it. So even if the world was different, some things still lined up.
An Alpha sitting farther off recognized him and shot him a thumbs-up. Any Alpha who could make Omegas fight over him was a warlord of love, after all.
The so-called warlord of love did not want that title and quietly exited the “group chat.” With several cats meowing pitiful farewells, Rong Jing left the café. The meds were about to wear off. He did not want a hospital trip. More importantly, his wallet cried.
Walking through the new world, he watched the streets and passersby. Even the cars carried brands from his old home. If you ignored the six genders, the rest was not that different.
He pulled out his phone to search for Lota’s 365 Days, the film the waitress had mentioned. The still showed the lead actor, Gu Xi, in profile, light cutting across a dirty face, only his eyes holding a glimmer of hope. The composition was not special, but it was gripping.
The story followed a poor family living in a basement on relief. The parents birthed children but never raised them. As the eldest, Lota shouldered the care of his siblings from a young age, doing whatever it took to feed them. When he grew up, his parents got greedy over his looks. He broke his own finger bones, fled his prison soaked in blood, and finally met the first benefactor of his life, who discovered his talent for figure skating and gave him short-term training.
On the day he was to go abroad, he was in a car accident while saving his little sister. Wrapped in bloody bandages, he still showed up on the evaluation stage and finished a beautiful program. However, reality is cruel. Because of his injuries, the performance was not good enough. He was not selected and was ground back into dust.
This time was even worse than before. People mocked and sneered. His wounds festered. His family abandoned him. When the benefactor found him again, he was in a junk-filled corner, smiling as he said he longed to return to the ice, to be an eagle that soared. In the end, he died in that benefactor’s arms. They shared no blood, yet were warmer than blood kin.
The film told the last 365 days of his life. It was not mainstream and there were no flashy revenge arcs or cheap thrills, but that realistic, slightly aching tone hit straight at the heart. Especially when Gu Xi looked into the camera. It felt like he could see right through a soul.
To say the movie became a classic because of him was no exaggeration. The film and its lead made each other.
The scene the waitress had raved about was the final shot. Even just looking at stills, it was arresting.
He scrolled through the comments. Some said it was Gu Xi’s first work after three years of silence, a dazzling return that stunned everyone. As a reintroduction to the public eye, the movie was a success. Others said the story mirrored Gu Xi’s childhood, how else could he act it so perfectly, like he had lived it. The screenwriter admitted in interviews that the idea came after learning Gu Xi’s life story. Fans pushed back, insisting it was simply superb acting and that he should not be judged by idol standards.
“Gu Xi… Gu Xi,” Rong Jing murmured. Why did that sound so familiar? He raked a hand through his hair. Being one step away from remembering was maddening.
But he was not the obsessive type. If it would not come, then forget it. Memory has blind spots. The hippocampus tucks away things you do not actively store. You need the right trigger to pull them back.
He did not like forcing himself. In his SCL results, his Paranoia score was F8 = 1.55, very low, which meant he was almost never obsessive.
Since that nagging familiarity had no answer for now, he set it aside. A bigger hurdle waited, one that decided whether he could truly blend into this world.
Fifteen minutes later, he sat by a roadside flowerbed, a tall, handsome man watching foot traffic. For each person who stood out, he lingered on them a bit, as if pondering a great mystery. Some Omegas ducked away, shy under his gaze. Some Alphas bristled, meeting his eyes like he was provoking them. Most, though, just hurried past without noticing. Rong Jing guessed they were the majority, the Betas.
Yes, the human observer by the road was Rong Jing himself. No matter how much data he read online, nothing beat fieldwork. The more you looked, the more you learned. He had no better method. He could not exactly greet everyone with, “So which one are you in ABO?”
He did not understand how people in this world could instinctively sense six genders. Male and female were easy enough, but ABO could mix visually. Humans came in endless varieties.
From what he had found online, As were generally strong and tall, which made sense. He could use himself as a reference. They made up about 20 percent of the population. Os were delicate and needed protection, with glands at the back of the neck, petite frames. But he remembered Gu Xi’s official profile said he was quite tall, meeting the standard for a weaker A, so data was not absolute.
Os made up about 6.5 percent, not even close to 10. No wonder the original owner nearly had a heart attack when Qi Ying agreed to date. There were too few Os. Outstanding Os would never force themselves to settle for a mediocre A. They had the privilege of choosing. That was the backdrop behind Qi Ying’s lecture earlier.
Huh? Where were the Bs? He searched again. Oh, there, in the corner. The information on B was laughably sparse.
Unconvinced, he dug around some more and found a few forum posts mentioning Betas. The most common labels were average, ordinary, nothing special.
Excuse me, were people in this world practicing gender discrimination too? Do Betas not deserve a place at the table?
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