HOYSE CHAPTER 24

Chapter 24 — Is It Too Late?

Beeeep—

Rong Jing gripped his phone, gaze locked straight ahead, the lazy air he wore earlier completely gone.

Brother, pick up. Please pick up.

His nerves were stretched tight and sweat gathered on his forehead. The seconds dragged on with no response. Finally, the flat recording clicked on: “The number you have dialed cannot be reached. Please try again later.”

According to the original plot, whether it was him or Xie Ling, both were cannon fodder fated to die. From the moment the story details kept slipping his mind to the way key memories jammed just now, he could feel an invisible resistance pushing back, trying to stop him from saving Xie Ling. What he was doing now was breaking some rule that kept the novel’s world spinning.

On the third call, he hung up before the recording could start and dialed Zhou Xiang.

Zhou answered right away. He was at home sorting through a packet from an investment bank. It contained a survey of entertainment companies projected to perform well over the next three years. This was not something Xie Ling needed for the Xie entertainment arm itself. The family division performed steadily, neither stellar nor shabby, some gains and some losses, but never a drag on the group.

Entertainment was not the Xies’ core business, so Xie Ling’s instruction had always been, “Just do not lose money.”

These files had been prepared quietly for Rong Jing. Xie Ling knew he loved acting, but at present Rong Jing had given him nothing to be impressed about.

Let him beat himself bloody out there. When he turns back and sees what I prepared, that is when a rebellious kid learns to come home. That had been Xie Ling’s plan. And since he was a sealed gourd, the kind who did rather than said, he never explained a word.

“You mean the president?” Zhou froze, hearing the strain in Rong Jing’s voice. “He said the detour to the hairpin turn was a private family matter, so he dropped me off at home.”

Which meant Zhou was not with Xie Ling. As if it were fate. A chill slid down Rong Jing’s back. Tonight might still be [inescapable].

“His phone is down. Is there any other way to reach him?”

“President Xie is not fond of electronics. He usually only carries a single phone.” Xie Ling worked like an old-school executive. Phones and tablets the younger crowd loved held little appeal for him.

“Find a way, take a team, get to the race spot right now. If you see my brother, keep him away from Xie Jisheng.”

“Understood.” Zhou did not know what was going on, but their little young master was not the type to pull pranks.

“Do we have a helicopter?”

“We do, but it is at the branch company’s pad. If I turn back to arrange it, I can probably…”

“Use whatever gets you there fastest.” For a moment Rong Jing’s voice was clipped, decisive, a different person entirely.

He paused, then spoke more deliberately. “Zhou Xiang.”

“Yes?”

“Hurry. Please.”

“Leave it to me, young master. Is this—” Before he could finish, the line went dead.

Rong Jing set the phone down and pressed his throbbing temples. The more he thought, the worse the pain clawed, but he could not stop. The original owner’s life was already gone. Xie Ling’s still had a chance.

He called the police, reporting that a gang was street racing at a certain mountain hairpin in the municipality, in serious violation of the law, and asking that the ringleaders be dealt with severely.

If he said outright that he suspected an attempt on his brother’s life, they would write him off as a prank caller. However, racing was different, especially illegal racing with a crowd. It was serious. Xie Jisheng was one of the organizers. Dragging him into the station for tea would be another way to stop what was coming. Even if it turned out to be a false alarm, so what. He could spend a few days in detention for a bogus report. It will be worth it.

But whether Zhou or the police, neither would put out the fire now licking at the fuse. The hairpin was far from the city, out in a county under the municipality. Strict local management kept the private race crews away, which was why they slipped this far into the sticks. Rong Jing kept calling Xie Ling. Busy tone, no signal, or nothing at all. He dialed again.

At that moment, Xie Ling had just arrived where Xie Jisheng was about to run a head-to-head on the bend. His appearance made the air turn strange.

Jisheng peeled the Omega clinging to his arm off with a lazy hand, smiling with a wicked tilt as he looked at his brother, the man whose face might as well have been carved in stone.

They were related by blood, but half brothers. Jisheng took after the Ji family, features on the pretty side. The Ji had raised him, as his name made plain. He had to have a place at that family’s table.

He waved the hangers-on back to their cars. He would “chat” with big brother alone. The others, recognizing Xie Ling, greeted him warily and drifted toward the track.

The temperature dropped a few more degrees. A few Alphas stayed to watch, thick tension keeping them rooted.

“You here to ask why I skipped the banquet,” Jisheng said, then sneered. “You came to fetch me home? You, the sanctimonious one? Spare me.”

“Enough. Come back with me.”

“I already asked Zhou to pass it on. If Rong Jing is in the picture, then I am out. Pick. Him, or me.”

“Xiao Jing has not hindered you. He keeps to himself. Why push him at every turn?”

“Oh, so you choose him.” He had wavered, a fraction, but Xie Ling’s answer stiffened his spine. “Hasn’t hindered me? Are you kidding me? From the first day that woman brought her brat through the Xie doors, he had his hand on a slice of the Xie estate. You are so generous. You do not mind having less?”

Xie Ling rubbed his temples. There was a tightness in his chest.

“If his share bothers you, I’ll make up the difference.”

“Why not give me the entire Xie Group instead? Wouldn’t that be better?” If you did, maybe I’d let the mutt live.

“You’re not the right fit.”

No matter how much he indulged his brothers, he would never risk what generations had built. The Xie family business wasn’t his alone. It was the result of those who came before. Jisheng’s investments had lost money time and again. This wasn’t the first time. Xie Ling would only pass the group on when he was dead. Or not at all.

Jisheng laughed. See? Hypocrite. “Talk big about being generous, and when I ask for it, you balk.”

“The Xies will not be yours. And what belongs to Rong Jing will remain with him.”

“You are such a good brother. Why should any of my things go to a hanger-on with no blood tie. Not a cent!”

“That is what he is owed. He is my younger brother.”

“Brother?” Jisheng burst out laughing. “Does he even acknowledge you? He sees you and bolts like a rat. He would love it if you never meddled again. Save it. Me or him, neither of us needs you.”

The words hit where it hurt. However, these last days Xie Ling felt his little brother had changed.

He did not want to bicker. “Are you still nursing that grudge about last time?”

That last time was why the original Rong Jing left home.

Jisheng had taken him out that night, and it ended at the police station. Rong Jing was accused of molesting an Omega, who turned out to be Jisheng’s boyfriend. According to the accusation, Rong Jing had dragged him into a bathroom, told him to undress, and tried to force a mark, only stopping partway. A few blurry photos were submitted as evidence, just clear enough to suggest the face might have been Rong Jing’s.

He couldn’t prove a negative. His memory of that night was a blur, but he swore he would never touch his brother’s lover. The police ran a full check, including a lie detector test. They found no history of marking; he had never marked anyone. He was a virgin Alpha with a clean record and firm denial. The photos were too unclear to be conclusive. Lacking motive or solid evidence, the police closed the case with a warning. Still, because the alleged victim was an Omega, they enforced the harshest penalty allowed and sentenced Rong Jing to 15 days of detention as a disciplinary measure.

It broke him. Punished for something he hadn’t done, and no one in the family seemed to believe him. In those 15 days, he shut down completely, retreating into himself.

The case was mediated, shelved, and officially closed. Jisheng remained furious, convinced Rong Jing had been protected, or that Xie Ling had pulled strings to lessen the punishment. In reality, cases like this required solid evidence from both sides. The police had already stretched the law as far as they could because the accuser was an Omega.

When Rong Jing crossed over, the first thing he said to Xie Ling: “There was no verdict. Aren’t you afraid I’ll do something worse now that I’m back?” came from this exact incident. Xie Ling had kept the matter quiet, so most people knew nothing. That was why no one at the banquet treated Rong Jing any differently.

Both Xie Ling and Xie Zhanhong, seasoned in their own ways, understood exactly how much Rong Jing had endured from Jisheng. They leaned toward him, even if they appeared neutral on the surface. In the original story, Rong Jing never saw their intent. He left in silence, angry and disillusioned, ready to sever ties.

For all his temper, Xie Zhanhong spoiled the delicate Han Lianmei and had no real issue with his stunning stepson. To force Rong Jing back, he froze his bank cards. That decision lit the fuse for what came next.

“You pretended to stand by me back then, but you believed him more, didn’t you,” Jisheng said, shaking with rage. “Rong Jing is too stupid to see it, but I’m not blind. My boyfriend gets assaulted and you side with the attacker. Your whole family makes me sick.”

“What whole family? Don’t you carry the Xie name?” Xie Ling’s face went cold. “Say that again, and don’t call me brother.”

The crowd flinched. Two Alphas radiated pressure that made hearts stutter. People hurried in to peel them apart before fists flew.

They were escorted to a high-tech prefab on the summit. It was a gamers’ lounge built for nights like this, loaded with 3D and 4D rigs.

Both men were ice. A peacemaker fished a bottle of sparkling from the cooler.

Jisheng seemed to realize he had crossed a line. He uncapped the bottle, set out two flutes, and poured a glass for each of them. When he handed one over, his movement faltered for a moment. Then, with his jaw clenched, he held it out.

Some things had been settled in his mind long ago. The pieces were in place, maybe ever since the old man named Xie Ling as heir. A seed had been planted. All that remained was determination and a fuse.

“I was wrong,” he said, voice pitched low, head down so his brother could not read his face. “Forget what I said. Do not be mad.”

Xie Ling’s chest still hurt. He did not know where he had failed. He had treated both brothers the same. Even though Jisheng’s mother had caused his own mother’s death, he had never held it against the son. The sins of the parents should not be put on the children.

Compared to Rong Jing, who had run from him, it was Jisheng’s schemes and words that pierced. He took the glass, a small warmth stirring in his heart. Brothers should not hold grudges overnight. He did not notice how Jisheng’s stare never left his hand, or the tremor in the man’s legs. It was his first time and the target was the brother he had once revered. Fear and guilt lanced through him. However, the bow was drawn.

Xie Ling glanced at the pale pink sparkle. “What flavor?”

“Cherry.” Xie Ling’s favorite.

He nodded. Oh. That meant sugar.

He had drunk too much at the banquet. His brother had a hangover soup sent up. They chatted a moment. Rong Jing found out his blood sugar had been high lately and told him to cut the sweets unless a doctor said otherwise. Xie Ling had shrugged it off, but now, for once, he decided not to slap away the small concern he had finally been offered.

I should check with the family doctor or he will nag. Ugh. Having a brother is a hassle. The thought made him faintly amused. He reached for his phone, then realized it was not on him.

Right. He had braked too hard earlier. It must have slipped out in the car.

“I will grab my phone and come back,” he said. Jisheng blanched, then steadied. It was too late for second thoughts. “Drink first. Then go.”

“We just fought. I should explain. Blood sugar’s up. Need to ask the doctor.”

Jisheng unclenched. He watched his brother like a hawk, then smiled. “Fine. I will switch to a sugar-free bottle as an apology.”

The word family hit Xie Ling harder than he expected. He knew himself well. Romance didn’t appeal to him; years of watching Xie Zhanhong’s theatrics had stripped away any hope he had in marriage. But family was different. That was something he still wanted. Kin stayed. Kin kept him grounded.

He reached the car and found his phone wedged between the seats, vibrating. The screen lit up: Little Brother.

His hand slipped. The phone slid deeper into the gap.

He stared at his fingers, briefly thrown. Then he reached down and pulled it free.

A race car whipped past on the nearby hairpin turn, nearly rear-ending him. The driver hit the brakes and called out an apology. Xie Ling was delayed again. By the time he retrieved the phone, the battery had somehow dropped to one percent. He was sure it had been at ninety when he left the office.

He plugged it in, started the engine, and let it charge. The screen blinked back to life. Little Brother was calling again. He picked up.

“You’ve been calling?” A small smile tugged at his lips. Maybe the kid didn’t hate him after all.

“Don’t drink—” anything. Come back now.

Rong Jing cut straight to the warning. He didn’t waste a second. He was afraid another twist might snap the thread, because in the original story, Xie Ling was fated to die. How could the gears of this world let him live? If Xie Ling survived, then Xie Jisheng, the designated male lead, would never inherit.  Without that, major plot lines would collapse. Things were already far off course. The main plot was the spine of the story.

In the end, Rong Jing didn’t even get to finish his words, and the call had dropped.

He redialed. A flat recording answered. His body went limp and almost slid off the bed. He caught himself just in time.

Was he too late?

Clutching his aching head, he felt fury clawing at his chest. The thought of watching his brother die because he was a moment too slow was unbearable. Grief and rage crashed together. He threw open the window and screamed into the moonlit haze, “Ahhh—”

Next door, Gu Xi had just drifted toward sleep. He jolted upright, nearly falling off the bed, then yanked a pillow over his head.

Who the hell screams at this hour? Some of us are trying to sleep!

Back on the mountain, Xie Ling frowned. The half-finished sentence still echoed in his mind. He checked the screen. No signal.

Right. Out in the middle of nowhere, on a mountain peak. No signal was normal.

He slipped the phone into his pocket. If he couldn’t reach the doctor now, then he would try again later.

When he returned, Jisheng had already opened a new bottle. The label read sugar-free.

Jisheng downed his glass in one gulp. Xie Ling lifted his own and paused.

Don’t drink. His brother’s voice came back sharp and clear.

Why those words? Don’t drink what? Did Rong Jing know something? Was that a warning?

He stared at the wine, fingers tightening around the flute. A sick, impossible idea crept into his thoughts, but years of hard lessons held him steady.

He raised the glass and pretended to sip. “Doctor says my stomach’s been off. I’ll just taste it.”

Out of sight, Jisheng curled his fist. One mouthful should have been enough.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but the wail of sirens tore through the night. His face drained of color. If this were just about illegal racing, he wouldn’t look this shaken.

In the confusion, Xie Ling dipped a finger into the wine and quietly hid his hand behind his back.

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