HOYSE CHAPTER 16

Chapter 16 — I Once Naively Thought It Was Just Time Travel

“Whoever lays a hand on my brother can crawl over my body first.”

Zhou Xiang followed behind Xie Ling, almost certain he had just heard that. Thankfully, it had to be his imagination. Their President Xie, spitting out something so impulsive and sappy? No way.

Xie Ling was still the same decisive, rigid man who rarely spared even a smile. Only his perfectly neat hair was a little mussed, and the chill in his eyes carried a sliver of impatience. From those barely visible tells, you could see he had rushed over.

He had been checking his phone between handshakes for a while, waiting on Zhou’s update. Then the message popped up: President Xie, the young master threw Wu Fuyu into the pool.

Wu Fuyu, depending on what circle you asked, was either a famous rich second-generation playboy who cycled through internet-famous Omega girlfriends and swore he only liked women, or he was the sole heir of the Wu family, the most lethal model in a whole fleet of princelings. Frank when pleased, vengeful when crossed. End up in his hands and he might peel a layer off you for sport.

Xie Ling had always thought his little brother was well-behaved, the sort of boy others envied, the kind who would not make trouble. He had not expected that when he did, it would be a big one. The Xies did not fear the Wus, but whatever polish Wu Fuyu wore on the surface, his bones were pure Wu: ruthless and thorough. How was Rong Jing supposed to go toe to toe with him?

Xie Ling remembered years ago, when Wu Fuyu was still in high school and dating an Omega from a poor family who worked part-time to pay tuition. Ecstatic, Wu bragged to everyone and even video-called Xie Ling from across the country to share the good news. It did not last. He discovered that Omega had just been angling for the Wu family’s resources, setting temptations like traps.

Once Wu found out, he did not hide it. He told everyone straight out, without fear of being laughed at. Then he sent people to dig into the Omega’s family and discovered nearly every member had a fraud record, and one was even a high-level cog in a pyramid scheme. That whole story of a broken home, worn-out shoes, and going hungry while studying hard for university was a carefully woven persona.

Wu moved fast. He submitted evidence to public security and got the whole family sent to prison. Then he set a trap that left them drowning in loan-shark debt. When that “Cinderella” lost both kin and backing and became a true penniless waif begging him for mercy, Wu showed none. He savored, slowly, how the person was forced to a dead end, and posted the pain like a joke to his Moments for others to enjoy. It was as if he had never liked the person at all. The entire thing had been a game.

It was terrifying, and it earned Wu Fuyu a special kind of dread. Playing dumb and reckless might be his default, but who could say it was not a layer of armor?

To the Wu family head, all of this was training for the heir, so he never stopped his son from dating “Cinderellas.” How else do you learn to judge people if you are never deceived a few times?

That was why Xie Ling used to say the Wus had put thought into molding their successor. Wild yet methodical, chaotic yet merciless. If you left him alone, fine. Offend him and he would strike again and again.

So when Xie Ling saw the message, his head started to throb. Of all the people to tangle with, his brother had poked a hornet’s nest. He dropped the banquet and hurried over, worried that if he was late, Wu Fuyu would do something irreversible.

When he arrived he saw a bleached-blond kid flailing in the water. He glanced at Zhou Xiang. Zhou realized his earlier excitement had caused him to omit two crucial characters: it was Wu Fuyu’s lackey who got booted into the pool. Two characters, miles of difference.

At that moment Wu Fuyu was barking orders, pointing at Rong Jing for people to grab him. Rong Jing was isolated, holding a dripping man whose face was buried against him.

Hearing Xie Ling’s voice, Wu blinked, looked at Xie, then at Rong Jing. Brother? From where?

Xie Ling only had one brother, Xie Jisheng, the second young master. Wu’s eyes swept Xie’s suit, then Rong Jing’s. Same series, custom. You could tell from the stitching. This was not something a random mid-tier brand could mimic. Something clicked for Wu. He opened his mouth. “So he’s the tagalo—” Xie Ling’s glare cut him off.

Wu pivoted on a dime. “My brother. He’s my brother.” Brother, my a**. That was a tagalong brought by a certain lady, not a brother. And from what he knew, when had Xie Ling ever been this soft? What was with that fault-finding tone?

Xie Ling felt eyes on his back. He turned to find a young man who had somehow drifted up behind him. The kid looked simple and honest. Under Xie’s stare, he hastily closed an app. He had not meant to keep streaming. He had locked the room so only curious classmates could peep the so-called high-society banquet.

The young man was Ji Leping, who had snuck in. He glanced toward the distance where Rong Jing, oblivious to them, still stood. Then he slipped away. He needed to sort out what he had just seen, never mind the horde howling in his stream.

You are shocked? You cannot believe it? I am standing right here and I believe it less than you do. Poor, you said? No connections, you said? And he was hiding an identity to blend in among us commoners?

For what? To get bullied for fun?

Xie Ling cleared the riffraff and said coolly, “What happened?”

Wu Fuyu’s temple pulsed. The painkillers should have kicked in, but the joint at the back of his neck still ached. Thinking of Xie Ling’s usual indifference, and seeing him now shielding Rong Jing, he knew he could not start a real fight. He forced a smile. “Misunderstanding. We were horsing around with the waiter and it got a bit heated. Young Master Xie came over to, well, teach a lesson.”

He glared at the dyed blond still soaking in the pool. “Right?”

The blond looked from Rong Jing to Xie Ling, too angry to speak, too scared to show it. “Y-yes.”

Oh right. What was Godzilla’s name again? He could not remember the surname was not Xie. The kid did ring a faint bell. Years ago, Wu had thought the “tagalong” had some spine. He had come to the Xie house with his clinging-vine mother. Xie Zhanhong had even offered to let the boy take the Xie name, but the kid had been stubborn and refused. Wu had admired the backbone once, until he heard the boy had smashed Xie Jisheng’s head open, and decided the kid had rocks in his skull.

Seeing Xie Ling silent, Wu added, “It was all a joke. Let’s leave it.” Which, in Wu’s speak, meant let us end it here.

Xie Ling did not want a scene on this particular night. “We are going,” he told Rong Jing.

No one moved. All eyes had shifted to the man in Rong Jing’s arms.

Water dripped from the young man’s hair, dotting his shirt. The thin fabric clung to him. In the lights, porcelain skin flashed, a line descending to a narrow waist that was slim yet springy. Just looking made the air feel warmer and roused an urge to tear. But the man in Rong Jing’s hold was weak, slanting against him. Maybe the Alphas’ restlessness in the air pressed too hard. He shivered and forced his eyes open.

A pair of hazy eyes, sharp as hooks, brushed across the room. The look was almost nothing, yet it snagged the breath.

Rong Jing knew the man clinging to him had no strength. It was just a glance. A beauty unaware of his own allure, but he was too close. The temptation hit like a crit.

Something inside him stirred. There it was again, that Alpha surge, trying to kick down the door. He knew it was biochemical, not his true will. His face did not move a muscle.

He swept the room with a cold look. Wherever his gaze passed, the young men and women who had been staring slack-jawed snapped a little clearer, retreating a step without thinking. When you did not know him, you might not sense it. But this one had the air to match Xie Ling’s brother: cold, proud, formidable. As if that was simply how the younger brother of Xie Ling should be.

Rong Jing glanced at Xie Ling, who clearly wanted to whisk him away, and shook his head.

Xie Ling’s face tightened. Did you think my face is an all-access pass? Did you think the cub you poked is some harmless street mutt? When I am not here and he buries you, where will you cry then. This brat. He was really asking for it.

Rong Jing asked the man in his arms, “Are you lucid?”

Gu Xi bit down and nodded. The rush of weakness from nearly drowning receded, and his body’s old repulsion rose. He slowly but firmly pushed himself out of Rong Jing’s hold.

That chill and steadiness, coming off Gu Xi, only made him more dangerous. The blond in the pool could not handle it. Still half-submerged, he started wading toward Gu Xi, hand reaching. Rong Jing let Gu Xi go and caught the blond’s wrist.

“Ah!” the kid yelped. That sharp cry made Wu Fuyu flinch. He knew that pain intimately. Being caught by this human Godzilla could make you doubt life. As if breathing itself were a struggle.

Rong Jing stood and in the same motion shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over Gu Xi’s shoulders. Then he planted a foot on the blond’s head and ground him back under.

Glub. Bubbles flurped up in frantic bursts. Once the head went under, it did not come back.

Once, twice, again. If you lot are trash, you can take society’s poison. If you want to play, then I will play with you and see who breaks first.

Gu Xi froze beneath the jacket. It was still warm from the other person’s body. A faint bamboo-note blocker spray wrapped around him.

His cold fingers trembled. He hated the warmth of others, especially Alphas. That aversion had lived in him since childhood. Alphas disgusted him. They made him sick. They made him want to throw up.

On set he could forget it. In real life, it was suffocating. It was not about whether this was Rong Jing. It was his own scar.

His body wanted to fling the jacket aside, but he knew he could not trample kindness. He shivered once, then, steady, pulled it on.

The fabric between his fingers, he shut his eyes as water traced the lines of his face and fell. And like that, he was a lure you could not name. Somewhere between B and O, aloof, unwilling to entertain anyone, and yet born seductive. Even Wu Fuyu, who had been staring at Rong Jing the whole time, noticed the not-so-conspicuous beauty and his gaze changed.

Foot braced on the blond, Rong Jing said to Gu Xi, “Watch.”

Through the gap in the jacket, Gu Xi stared in a daze as the cocky blond flailed beneath Rong Jing’s shoe, churning like a frog.

Rong Jing’s face stayed cold, barely shifting. He could have been doing step aerobics.

Without looking back, he said, “He stomped you a few times. Return them.”

Wu Feiyu had been willing to let it go for today, for Xie Ling’s sake. But this brat would not. Stomping on the head of the year. Did he know who the f*** I am? The title of Crown Prince was not something any rich boy got to wear.

“F***!” Wu felt that foot on the blond was pressing his own face. He strode forward in a long-limbed fury. The youngsters who had been cowed earlier fell in behind him to bolster courage. Rong Jing had humiliated one of his own. That was a slap to the face. Even if the blond had gone too far, outsiders did not get to discipline him.

He could give Xie Ling face. Xie Ling’s “brother,” apparently, did not need that face. Fine. “Rong Jing, is it?” Wu’s eyes shifted. A smile that did not reach his eyes surfaced. The flippant air faded.

Xie Ling stepped up too. “Wu Fuyu, my brother can do whatever he wants in my family’s guest house,” he said coldly. “Before you do anything, think carefully.”

Zhou Xiang: … You still said it.

The air went taut, seconds from exploding. Wu glanced at Xie Ling, who was firmly on his brother’s side, and tasted blood. The Wus had spent years cozying up to the Xies. Was this little nobody about to ruin that? But the humiliation was hard to swallow.

Hearing “Wu Fuyu,” Rong Jing froze. The fog lifted a little. “Five-blessings fish? Which ‘fu’?”

The line murdered the mood. It was like a fuse already sizzling toward detonation suddenly drenched in cold water. Swords had been drawn. Xie Ling had even called his security detail. They would have arrived within minutes.

“Grass radical, the one that means city! Ever heard of culture?” Wu snapped. It was not literally “city,” but close enough to illustrate. Xie Ling, who had been ready to dive in and save his brother: …

What pissed Wu off most was people butchering the middle character in his name. Half the folks he met got it wrong, reading it shi or pei. It was fei. His forebears were rough men who clawed their way up from the streets. By his father’s generation they were turning legit. The family loved culture, so they gave him a rare character. It meant they were refined, thank you very much.

Rong Jing’s gaze flickered. “Like peng, meaning lush growth? The fei that means flourishing grass and trees?”

Wu stared. A cultured one. Plenty of people knew that character, but he rarely met them. The meaning of his name was excellent and he was proud of it. He just hated people misreading it.

“And the ‘yu’?” Rong Jing had forgotten the blond beneath his shoe. The kid was close to running out of air. “Which one?”

“Sun radical,” Wu gritted out. Are you serious. Are we fighting or not.

“Wu Fuyu?” Rong Jing looked far away, overtaken by a heavier thought.

From the second Wu’s attention had shifted to Gu Xi, the gears of fate began to turn. The clamp on Rong Jing’s mind unlatched. The veil of fog lifted.

He had first thought he had simply transmigrated and it had taken days to adjust. He had not known this might be something else entirely. A higher difficulty level.

Did the author know how outrageous they were? The novel had become a whole world.

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