HOYSE CHAPTER 15

Chapter 15 — He Dug Up the White Radish Buried in the Dirt

Gu Xi showing up here was no accident. Roll the clock back a few hours.

As a modern Omega, he could not run on instinct alone. You needed evidence, plus reason and caution in equal measure. He did not want to misidentify someone and make a scene, and he honestly only wanted to confirm the man in private.

After wrapping the variety shoot, he specifically asked the host for today’s raw footage. Luckily they had already finished filming, so the team did not refuse on confidentiality grounds, and that Beta host happened to be especially fond of Gu Xi. He got the originals, loaded the card into his laptop, and skipped straight to the subway segment.

The result disappointed him.

The man appeared too quickly, head down under a cap. Even though the cameras tracked Gu Xi, the lenses were mostly on him, so all he caught of the stranger was a side angle occluded by the crowd.

Still… he did look a bit like that film academy student.

What was that mysterious student’s name again? Right. Rong Jing.

Easy to remember.

Gu Xi messaged a few directors he knew to ask if they had any early videos or clips of Xun Jiarui before his debut, the private kind that shows someone as they are. He skimmed what came back and combined it with his questions. The conclusion:

Xun Jiarui used to speak very little. Even when he did, he wore a mask and claimed to have a cold or an inflamed throat. Whenever he had to shoot something, most of the lines were handled by professional dub actors.

Gu Xi narrowed his eyes. Something was off.

Like a deliberate smokescreen.

The people he asked assumed he had some special interest in Xun Jiarui. Why else would Gu Xi dig up private videos? Meanwhile their alleged “scandal” had already been blasted online by gossip rags and was climbing the Weibo charts. Give it a bit and it would crack the top twenty.

At the rate it was rising, someone had definitely paid for the trending slot. He had felt something fishy in the hallway earlier.

In the photos the lighting was bright, the Alpha was close, and half of Gu Xi’s figure was blocked. Maybe it was the angle, but the entire frame pulsed with a hazy suggestion of something between them. Without a nudge, how would paparazzi even know what floor he was on? Someone tipped them.

There were only two people in those shots. The answer was obvious.

He was used to this kind of marketing play. But every time they roped him in without so much as a heads-up, it still left a bad taste. Gu Xi pulled out his little notebook and slashed through the glaring “40%,” downgrading the probability of Xun Jiarui to 29.9999%.

Do not ask why. Even if his timeline, location, and the voice all lined up, a man that opportunistic who could not hide his desire would not smell Gu Xi’s pheromones and just walk away after shutting the door to give him space.

What is that, a miracle?

If he guessed wrong, it would be an insult to the real one.

Taking down the trending topic now would cost blood and money, and gossip like this is usually pushed by both teams. With his contract nearly up, the company would love to tank his reputation. They were not going to help.

“Cold-hearted f***ers, the lot of them,” Gu Xi muttered, dryly amused at himself.

He shelved the scandal for the moment. A friend sent over a short fan-shot clip from Xun Jiarui’s earliest days. The voice was a full-on car crash. Back then he had not claimed to have a cold. Later they repackaged that same sound as “I caught something and never fully recovered.”

Most people did not question it. But listen to him now. The cold is gone and suddenly he sounds like heaven?

Possible, sure, just not likely outside of miracles.

Gu Xi was not an expert on cosmetic medicine, so he searched the key phrase: vocal cord reconstruction surgery. Tough procedure, but there is a chance of success. Low does not mean zero.

And just like that, he might have stumbled onto a very big secret.

Out came the notebook again. He crossed out 29.9999 with a line deep enough to cut the page and wrote 9.9999%.

He failed to notice his own double standard, as if he were only gathering evidence to prove Xun Jiarui was a counterfeit.

With that done, Gu Xi hopped onto the school forum to look up Rong Jing, the name he had heard on the phone. As he suspected, anyone that ostracized by classmates had a thread with plenty of traffic. Lots of clandestine pics.

He found a long post about Rong Jing and his ex. Takes were all over the place, but one point was clear: most believed Qi Ying kept Rong Jing as a backup option. Gu Xi looked at the photos of Qi Ying, designer-clad head to toe. Rumor said it was all bought with Rong Jing’s money. Some envied it, some said an Omega should be pampered like that.

But did nobody think that was unfair to Rong Jing?

He spotted a few titles trying to rile people up:

“Broke up? Confirmed!” “If RJ ever acts again, I will eat a keyboard.” 

“I want to pursue Rong Jing, but I am a Beta. Should I overcome the gender gap? Any hot Alpha bros want to vote?”

If he had not checked the forum, he would not have realized Rong Jing was a small-scale magnet for controversy.

Using a burner named Grapefruit Grapefruit, Gu Xi clicked into the “If RJ acts again I will eat a keyboard” thread, typed a long reply, deleted it, then simply posted: I will wait to watch. Do not delete the post. [lighting a cigarette][lighting a cigarette]

Before hitting send, he checked the OP’s profile. The forum was internal to the film academy, so it was an insider and apparently a Gu Xi solo stan. Ever since Gu Xi graduated early, this person had been active. Since it was internal, the OP came roaring back as if on crack: Joke’s on you, I am right here. Whoever deletes is a dog.

Gu Xi had been ready to close the tab. Seeing the OP online, he clapped back anyway: Do not drag dogs into this. Dogs have dignity. Please respect dogs. [Dog]

Keyboard warriors never lack an audience. Gu Xi usually did not care about his own threads anymore, but remembering the sarcasm in that phone call to Rong Jing left him a little pissed. He went full petty for ten straight minutes, then finally remembered he was out of time and closed the page with a sigh.

There was still the Xie family banquet. Only a few in the industry could get an invitation, and even if Gu Xi wanted one, he could pull strings to get it.

He would not. A few wolves were lying in wait to net him like prey.

He needed a different identity, a different face, and then he had to find someone, a family member he only dared meet in private but missed fiercely. Only in this kind of big gathering did the odds of a chance encounter go up.

He did not want to show his face yet still wanted in, so of course he had his methods. In this industry, simple disguise does not fool professionals. He had to make himself ugly. Not only ugly. Technically ugly.

While studying in Neon Country he learned special effects makeup. He could do movie-quality zombie looks. Thus, a simple disguise was child’s play. He usually styled himself older and steadier, but his natural vibe had a lingering youth to it. Leaning younger would help cover his identity.

He applied a layer of prosthetic latex over the back-of-neck gland area to hide the Omega mark so he would pass as a Beta. Then he airbrushed an eruption of truly heinous acne across his face, a cratered lunar surface. All adhesives were waterproof to prevent slips. Add in classic black frames and his looks were pretty much ruined. Even diehard fans would not recognize him.

He did not expect that before he could find the person he wanted, some spoiled heir would “accidentally” spill wine on him and half-drag him here midway. He had to guard his disguise. If this pack realized he was Gu Xi, they would go feral.

Especially that Wu Fuyu, a notorious southern hell-raiser who had only recently managed to test into the capital. The Wu name had been growing louder these years, and this one seemed to be a center of gravity among rich kids. They called him Crown Prince.

Based on his past, exposure here meant no exit. It meant disaster.

A hand yanked his hair. His head dunked and dunked again.

His first instinct was to fight back, but his little stash of defensive tools was fine for one-on-one. This was a crowd, and the kind that could summon more. Alpha-born.

Breathing became a luxury.

His scalp felt like it was being torn out by the root.

Every time he broke the surface, he had no time to draw a full breath before he was shoved down again.

He knew that no matter how hard he trained, no matter the martial arts drills, the biological gap with an Alpha remained. He could subdue a careless average Alpha, but if he ran up against one with superior physical stats, it was eggs against stone.

He could feel the Alpha holding him down was very strong, strong enough to grind his bones.

There was no breaking out alone. And he had no desire to provoke this pack again.

Water filled his mouth, lungs, and sinuses.

Life felt like a fever dream.

Was he going to die like this?

What a joke of a death.

To these heirs, a server should not resist.

He should strip and let them play?

Men and women laughed and cursed around him. Through the blur he saw a whirl of moneyed waste, ridiculous and sickening.

Until another force, stronger, with a warm, broad chest, closed around him.

He hacked water from his nose and mouth with no care for how it looked. The shaking in his hands made him cover his face. A cool, clean scent hovered at his nose. A cool voice sounded at his ear. “Are you alright?”

Gu Xi lifted his head. The pool water stung his eyes. He forced them open to see.

Geometric light raked the pool deck. Fine points of water beaded his rescuer’s hair like seeds of diamond. A cut jawline, clean and striking features, a trace of mixed-blood depth. His expression was taut. His gaze was a sharp line aimed straight at Wu Fuyu without the slightest flinch.

A stranger. And familiar.

In that instant he realized that evidence, body type, looks, and voice were not the point. The point was what a person chose to do in a given situation.

Actions tell you the most.

In Chinese, a "white radish buried in the dirt"
is a metaphor for someone who hides their
true value or identity. The phrase implies the speaker has uncovered
a hidden talent or secret. This white radish buried deep in the dirt, hidden tight and sure, had finally been dug up by him.

Gu Xi clutched the lapel of Rong Jing’s suit. The weakness of heat had crushed him. In that moment when despair peaked, he just wanted something to lean on for a breath.

Sorry. Just for a bit. Let me lean for a bit.

He let his eyes close, stung raw by chlorine.

He pressed his face into Rong Jing’s chest and worked to steady his body. On the edge of a rising, falling collapse, he found a temporary harbor.

Rong Jing felt the tug and saw his jacket clenched in white-knuckled fingers. The kid had nearly died. He was terrified. Of course Rong Jing did not push him away.

He patted the boy’s back lightly, hoping to soothe the shock a little. After something like that, seeing a counselor would be more than justified.

Were these people that starved they would not even spare a Beta?

Wait. Huh?

Rong Jing sniffed. No pheromone scent. He remembered that pale, exhausted face and the frail pull it had a moment ago, and his ears warmed.

This… this should not be an Omega, right?

No time to dwell. Wu Fuyu had already leaped off his lounger, jabbing a finger at Rong Jing. “Tie him up for me. No one leaves tonight!”

You little monster. I have been waiting a long f***ing time.

The spot on the back of his neck still throbbed. Without painkillers he would already be jumping three feet high.

Since childhood, who dared treat Wu Feiyu like this? This grudge would be paid.

Rong Jing turned the boy’s face away so he would not have to meet an Alpha’s rage head-on. His gaze on Wu Fuyu went colder, like warm wine turned into a burning liquor that clawed down the throat. That ferocity made people balk.

A few of the young men and women froze mid-step, spooked by the sudden pressure rolling off a man who looked gentle but clearly was not to be crossed.

Wu Fuyu fought the urge to back away. Seeing that face again made something in him ache with anger. When he had tried to draw the face earlier, he could not get it right, but now, one look at the real man standing there, pretty-boy aura full blast, and he knew.

No one moved. He snapped, “Hey, I can be scared if I want. But you? What kind of Alphas are you?”

“What are you stopping for? I said tie him up. I will take the heat later!”

“Who wants to tie up my little brother?”

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