HOYSE CHAPTER 31

Chapter 31 — Lose a Billion First?

The TV drama that had finally been greenlit lost its funding, and Qi Ying was sure it had to be because he had overstepped and flirted with Xie Ling, ticking the man off. He tried to apologize afterward, but he never got anywhere near the hem of Xie Ling’s jacket.

The front desk staff here were always very polite, but he could read the disdain in their eyes. He decided not to keep begging for face. Omegas were precious, after all.

His investor did not know about the stunt with Xie Ling. He only assumed Qi Ying had done something to offend him and told him to behave himself moving forward. Xie Ling was a busy man who met sharks every day; thus, he had no time for a small fry like Qi Ying.

As unpleasant as the realization was, Qi Ying admitted it was true, so he had to swallow it.

He never imagined this would turn into a running saga. He finally convinced the investor to back a small-budget drama that needed to rent one of the Xie family’s stages. That studio complex was huge. The Xies’ own film arm was so-so, but their equipment was first-rate and they spent freely. The rental rates were also fair.

Any production that needed indoor space for heavy VFX would try to book half a day or a day there.

The staff reached out in advance and at first everything was approved. Then the person in charge heard one of the actors was “Qi Ying.” The name sounded familiar, so he asked which “Qi,” which “Ying.”

A little while later the call came: sorry, it has already been rented to another crew. Please find a different location.

Fine. Not that one, then the next. The next one was also a Xie-owned stage.

The Xie studios were the best value with the best gear. It was hard to find an equivalent replacement.

The runaround repeated itself. The producer finally caught the scent of what was going on and somehow dug up a line attributed to Xie Ling: I do not want that some 38th-tier thing wandering around on my turf.

A proud young lord like Xie Ling would not have phrased it exactly like that, but one thing was clear: the Xie family had blacklisted this thirty-eighth-tier nobody.

Qi Ying blew his top. “Didn’t you say Xie Ling could not be bothered with me? He has put me on a blacklist! No. You have to fix this for me!”

The investor was baffled and also worried about being dragged down with him. He brought Qi Ying to apologize in person.

Qi Ying had thought with the investor present, the Xies would at least give him a little face.

Instead, his “backer” was all show and no substance. They had sat there the whole morning while the receptionists smiled and told them to wait, then went about their work as if they did not exist, never once saying when Xie Ling might see them.

The feeling of being completely dismissed made the always-smooth-sailing Qi Ying want to crawl under a rock.

Then he heard the same cool, professional receptionists suddenly greet a tall young man with bright enthusiasm. The difference in attitude was night and day.

Young master? Was this the little brother Xie Ling could not handle even over the phone?

That back looked familiar.

When the young man turned, Qi Ying’s mind went nuclear.
Rong, Rong, Rong, Rong, Rong… Jing?!

That waist, those legs, that profile. If the proportions had not been so perfect, why would he ever have picked Rong Jing? The man was too handsome. If his personality had not been so infuriating, maybe Qi Ying would not have gotten bored so fast.

Why was he here? And what had they just called him?

Qi Ying did not even spare his investor a glance. He lunged forward.

“What are you doing here?!” he demanded, all accusatory bite and the old habit of ordering Rong Jing around.

Seeing the original body’s ex appear here set off alarm bells in Rong Jing’s head.

Do not underestimate this Omega. In the original’s memories, he took up a lot of space: crying, tantrums, “I will go hang myself” theatrics, and weaponized pouting on endless repeat.

Rong Jing himself was not great at shaking off clingers who could not be hit and would not be shooed.

This was getting thorny. Since playing it quiet had stopped working, there was no helping it. He could not show weakness.

Rong Jing’s expression shifted. The gentle air evaporated, replaced by a hint of reserve and chill. “Why would I not be?” His posture was that of a naturally elegant young aristocrat.

One line set the tone.

Qi Ying’s mouth fell open wide enough to fit an egg. Faced with this completely transformed Rong Jing, he suddenly dared not recognize him.

Rong Jing had never carried himself like this before. Qi Ying’s bluster deflated. “You… are you the Xie young master who was lost and just got recognized back into the family?”

It must have happened recently, otherwise he would have known. If he had known, if only he had known…

Rong Jing smiled thinly. “I have always been the Xie family’s young master. That has never changed.” He crushed the fantasy in one go.

“Impossible. You used to rent a basement room. You would not even splurge on a packet of pickled mustard greens!” He did not add the part about luxury bags purchased for him, even he felt guilty about that.

Rong Jing was a full head taller. He looked down from above, then slowly bent closer.
“As far as I am concerned, we ended long ago.”

“N… no way…” Qi Ying shook his head.

“Remember the last thing you said to me? I have never forgotten it.” The once-down-and-out Qi Ying seemed to recognize that firing back would cheapen himself, but the word would not leave Rong Jing’s mind. “Loser?”

The final call. The final word.

People who overheard flushed with secondhand embarrassment. Who was the loser now needed no explanation.

That sneer he had once aimed at Rong Jing clung to his skull like a curse.

Rong Jing stepped past him. Downstairs, Zhou Xiang had been waiting for who-knew-how long. Rong Jing blinked innocently.

Only then did Zhou Xiang snap out of it. He had nearly failed to recognize the young master. It felt like seeing Rong Jing by the pool at the annex that day: how to describe it… utterly commanding.

Qi Ying’s heart went cold. Why had Rong Jing hidden the truth? Was it to test whether he had been sincere?

Thinking back on everything he had done, he realized he had wounded the only heart that had been real to him. He had also missed his one shot at a mountain of gold.

If the cat café meeting had not already made it obvious, now it was crystal clear. There was no longer a speck of humility or affection for him in Rong Jing’s eyes.

Rong Jing had reclaimed his identity and walked away for good.

Qi Ying looked lost, more than that, devastated.

He had thought Rong Jing would always wait for him, that when he finally got tired of playing around, Rong Jing would still be there.

The world tilted and spun.

At that moment, Zhou Xiang walked over, polite to a fault, and twisted the knife. “President Xie said, my brother is mine to bully. If anyone else so much as lays a finger on him, be ready to face my wrath.”

Oh, that felt good to say. Xie Ling’s original line had been, if you want to touch my brother, go through me first, but Zhou Xiang felt his edited version sounded more like their boss.

He did not spare another glance for Qi Ying, who looked one shove away from collapsing. He hurried to the elevator. Their young master was waiting.

Qi Ying endured the stares around him, some eager for drama, some openly contemptuous. He no longer cared.

The investor, his face in tatters, reached to tug him away, only to see Qi Ying’s panic-stricken eyes.

Qi Ying stared blankly as tears filled his lashes. He clamped onto the investor’s sleeve. “What did I miss? What did I miss…”

It felt like he had thrown away the only shortcut he would ever get.

And with it, the person who had once loved him most.

No one could answer him. The one who had treated him like his life had, indirectly, been driven to his death by him.

In the elevator, Zhou Xiang found the young master back to his mild, slow-blinking self and needed a second to adjust.

“Young master, just now—”

“How was my performance?”

Zhou Xiang gaped. “That… was acting?!”

Rong Jing sighed. “You have no idea how hard that Omega is to shake. If I do not do that, he will never let go.”

He had once played a similar role. He had simply applied what he learned.

Zhou Xiang thought that if Rong Jing went on like this, the other party might just fall for him all over again. Being too good was a pain. He could not help sighing. “Now I finally understand why you insisted on applying to the acting program. You really are suited for it.”

“Then later, put in a good word for me with my brother?”

“Young master, those are two separate matters.”

“… Fine.” Rong Jing paused. “So, yesterday, how was Xie Jisheng dealt with?”

Technically he should say “second brother,” but Zhou Xiang had decided the change was an improvement. That beast did not deserve years of Xie Ling’s care.

Zhou Xiang summarized the discovery of the undetectable poison and mentioned Xie Ling’s condition the previous night.

“Big brother still came in to work on schedule?” If the toxin could not be detected, no wonder the funeral in the original timeline had gone so smoothly.

“Yes. President Xie has behaved exactly as usual. He looks completely unaffected.”

Rong Jing frowned. Acting like everything was normal. It reminded him of Gu Xi’s light, shallow smile when they parted, as if no shadow lingered at all.

For some reason, his chest pricked.

They arrived at the office. Zhou Xiang, smiling, led him to the door. Rong Jing greeted a couple of secretaries nearby.

He drew a steady breath and knocked.

“Enter.” The voice inside was cool.

Xie Ling sat on a leather sofa. Behind him floor-to-ceiling windows framed blue sky and puffs of cloud over a low skyline. The office was sparely decorated yet brimming with restrained force.

Seeing Xie Ling seated calmly there, Rong Jing felt a breath leave him that he had not realized he was holding.

His brother was alive and well. The plot had not managed to strangle him back onto the rails. Thank goodness.

Without looking up, Xie Ling flicked a thick packet of documents toward him.

Rong Jing skimmed the top page, baffled. “Are you investing in companies, big brother? I do not know this stuff.” He would be no help.

These were the reports Zhou Xiang had been sorting when Rong Jing called for a helicopter. Xie Ling had asked for dossiers on companies with potential or strong industry reputations.

If he did not laugh he would cry. Xie Ling looked up. “They are for you. I will start you with one hundred million. Pick one company and try the water.”

He said it as casually as, go buy a head of cabbage this afternoon. As if it were ten bucks, not one hundred million.

No wonder, in the original, however wildly Xie Jisheng tossed bombs, the Xie family collapsed within a year of Xie Ling’s death, then was carved up by the Wu family and others.

By that accounting, the Wu family had been the biggest winner.

“Big brother, I am not sure if I should say this.” Rong Jing pulled a face. Better to be honest up front.

“If you are not sure, shut up.” Then Xie Ling remembered a bullet point from his research on how to get along with his brother. Do not be too forceful. Be gentle. He felt he had already been very patient.

If this were anyone but his brother, he would have slapped him to death long ago.

“I… still want to say it.”

“Say it.”

“I really do not have a head for business.”

You have no idea. I am a startup black hole.

Back then, before he set foot in entertainment, he had tanked ten companies. Nearly burned the family savings down.

That was long before now. The Rong family was no tycoon clan, but it had several generations of savings. Gu Xi had sensed a trace of polish in Rong Jing that was not from the Xies; it was native to him.

When he came of age, the family gave him a sizable personal allocation. All Rong children got one. His eldest sister was a resolute singleton who invested in pretty boys and partied. The second sister bought an island. Rong Jing bought a commuter car for around a hundred thousand. Low-key was the only way to dodge paparazzi.

He was young, far from his current caution, and he wanted to build something.

He was naive. He poured money into company after company. Eleven in total.

The first ten went straight to liquidation. The last one survived on fan crowdfunding. It was called Ten-Light-Years and was the only one he had built from scratch himself. It stored letters and packages people wanted to send to their future selves or others, then mailed them on the dates specified.

It was never meant to turn a profit, so it never did.

After fans learned it was his, they crowdfunded to keep it alive up to the time he crossed over.

Rong Jing covered his face. Even telling it now hurt. He felt like his dignity had nowhere to hide.

“You are giving up before you start?” Who announces defeat in advance?

A flicker of unease moved behind Xie Ling’s eyes. Was Rong Jing still the same as before, refusing to accept the Xie family or him, which was why he kept refusing help?

Only people who did not think of themselves as family drew such hard lines.

“You give me a hundred million, and I might end up ten billion in debt,” Rong Jing said, exaggerating on purpose. Please do not expect too much. Ugly truths belong at the front.

“The Xie family has enough for you to burn. Take it.”

Hearing that, Rong Jing could not help recalling an old internet meme. “

The line alludes to a viral remark
by Chinese billionaire Wang Jianlin,
who once said in an interview,
“Set a small goal first.
For example, earn your first 100 million yuan.”
It became a viral meme because of
how out-of-touch it sounded to
ordinary people for calling
such an enormous amount a “small goal.” Set a small goal first… maybe lose a billion?

”

The kid must be tired of living.

Xie Ling’s death-stare had Rong Jing scrambling. “Just a joke.” He only wanted to lighten the mood.

In front of Xie Ling, he was nothing like the hard-edged figure he had shown Qi Ying. He was milder than usual, like a docile little lamb.

But Xie Ling knew better. This “lamb” did not stay lamb for long. Every so often he would pull something earthshaking. The gentleness was an absence of conflict, nothing more.

“Money does not blow in on the wind. Do not be frivolous. Take the dossiers, choose carefully, then find Zhou Xiang. We will assign you a professional manager.” Xie Ling had hand-picked companies with real potential instead of telling him to build from zero because he already knew his brother might be a lovely little waste. He did not expect grand achievements. He just wanted Rong Jing to have a goal and not spend every day threatening death because he could not act.

Rong Jing tried once more. “Brother…” A hundred million was too much. It was wasteful to give it to him.

“I am done. Get out. You irritate me just by standing there.”

One hundred million was not small change anywhere. Xie Ling remembered when he first took over the Xie Group and lost ten million on a project. He had spent nights sleepless with guilt, until his grandfather told him: the Xie family has enough for you to wreck, so do it boldly.

Enough for you to wreck. Crude words that he now passed on to Rong Jing. Family is your last line of support.

And he had not given lightly. Every time he thought of what they had found out, his chest ached.

Before making peace with the Xies, the boy had been living in a shelter.

To live in a shelter rather than come home, rather than come to him… how much did he hate him?

Xie Ling felt anger and self-reproach in equal measure.

He had failed as a brother. No matter how bad relations were, to be unaware and uninvolved was unthinkable.

Maybe acting was the only thing he loved, but he had been stuck in place for years. He had grown more gloomy and self-contemptuous. Xie Ling had said, hobbies are hobbies. They do not feed you. You are not good enough. Face reality.

Over that one sentence, the brothers had spent years in a deep freeze.

Seeing Xie Ling was done, Rong Jing obediently took the documents and moved to leave.
Hand on the doorknob, he turned back. The man who never showed a hint of collapse looked the same as ever. Rong Jing hesitated, then let go of the handle and strode back to the desk.

“Brother.”

“Mm?”

“Hug me.” He opened his arms.

Xie Ling almost short-circuited. Was this an Alpha or an Omega he had raised? Standing there asking for a hug? Did he want a beating?

Then he caught the look in Rong Jing’s eyes and understood. He turned slightly, hiding the wet shine, and stood still for a second.

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around a brother as tall as himself.

They were not related by blood, yet closer than blood.

Ten years had passed. It was their first embrace.

A flat, ordinary afternoon. An ordinary hug.

Rong Jing leaned into his shoulder. “Brother, you still have me.”

It was not that Xie Ling had forgotten what Xie Jisheng had done, or felt nothing about the attempted poisoning. He cared too much. He cared so much the only way to cope was to paper everything over.
He was Xie Ling, the heir of the Xie Group. The company could not run on the feckless Xie Zhanhong. It depended on him to operate.

He would not allow himself to show weakness.

The wounds were all hidden beneath the armor.

Xie Ling tugged one corner of his mouth, producing a smile uglier than crying. “I know.”

For once, he let his rigid back soften and allowed himself a brief moment of rest.

He only had the one brother left.

Outside the office, Rong Jing stood dazed for a moment.

Something about Xie Ling’s state kept making him think of the main-plot Omega.

The two men were nothing alike in looks, personality, experiences, or circumstances.

But both loved to paint over the cracks, wrapping themselves tight to fend off harm. For all he knew, they were already riddled with holes inside.

Just then his phone buzzed. Xie Ling: Are you going to stand there daydreaming? Go do the work.

Rong Jing looked down at the packet in his arms, a hundred-million-yuan weight, and felt its heft.

Whatever. His big brother was still a demon. There was no softness here. He was overthinking. Totally overthinking.

He decided to head back and study the candidates first. No blind choices.

He texted Zhou Xiang to ask the way to Information Services. He wanted a computer ace.

Zhou Xiang had meant to take him personally, but Rong Jing disliked the habit. It was too much like Xie Ling treating him as a child who would never grow up. He had been an adult for a long time.

“Just tell me where to go.”

Zhou Xiang truly had many things on his plate. As chief aide to the general office, his workload could rival Xie Ling’s.

Still, he could not relax where the young master was concerned. This was President Xie’s favorite person. He assigned a young Beta secretary to lead Rong Jing down.

Yes, all of Xie Ling’s secretaries were Betas. He believed that in the workplace, efficiency came from the lack of scent-based interference.

The Xie Group was one of the few companies that treated Betas equally. In the original line where Xie Jisheng took over, all that had been erased.

The Beta guiding him was named Lisi. Seeing that Rong Jing had none of Xie Ling’s chill and showed no spoiled-rich-kid arrogance, and then seeing that face capable of murdering the hearts of Betas of all ages, she softened a couple of degrees and led him into the elevator under envious stares.

As they descended, two middle-aged men stepped in, not noticing them, and chatted over their paperwork.

“His contract is up soon, right? Everyone was fighting over him a while back. Cash cow. Funny how calm it has gotten lately.”

“The second young master said he was acquiring Shengteng Entertainment and that anyone who fought him would get sued. He is a top-traffic name, sure, but the cost to poach him is sky-high. With that announcement, everyone is waiting to see.”

They were discreet, never naming names, and since Xie Jisheng was part of the family leadership, even those who thought he was overbearing would not say it aloud.

“That company is real shady. You heard about that contract?”

“News did not make it out, but everyone in the industry knows. They took advantage of a kid’s family troubles and debt collectors on his back. Signed him for ten years. Ten years. Tsk.”

The men reached their floor and started out, when someone behind them called,

“When does his contract expire?”

---

Gu Xi checked out of the XieLier the next morning. One night there cost a fortune. A splurge now and then was a nice upgrade in quality of life. Any longer would give him a heart attack.

He was done with his agent and had him blocked.

He planned to rest for a few days, go home, and preferably change the locks so the agent could not waltz in.

When he stepped out of the elevator, a large gift box sat at his door. Tiffany blue. Whatever was inside, it wasn’t cheap.

Of course it wasn’t. Another anonymous gift.

He barely felt anything anymore and just opened the box.

Inside was a quarter-scale doll, sculpted in gemstones, a perfect replica of him, down to the smallest detail. Uncannily vivid. Uncomfortably lifelike.

Next to it lay a single rose, a printed note clipped to the stem: The perfect you.

Goosebumps rose along his arms.

It must have arrived around the same time as the roses left at the audition site. The sender had guessed that if he didn’t show up there, he’d head straight home.

Like all the others, this gift was going to be donated.

To be fair, the sender had not started like this. He had not begun by hurling money and bombastic romance. He had studied Gu Xi’s tastes and sometimes sent thoughtful things.

But Gu Xi had no interest in dating anyone. He wanted to wait out his contract, earn money to support his younger siblings, and then buy a home of his own again.

Every gift was returned or donated. His stonewalling must have enraged the other party. Maybe the mask had slipped, maybe it was unbearable frustration, but the gifts had grown more and more disturbing. He could feel the patience dwindling. Almost gone.

Gu Xi gave a small, tired smile. Let it run out then. Worst case, mutually assured destruction. His life was not worth much anyway.

He sat down in the corridor. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flicker of white.

He slowly lifted the hand that had been carefully bandaged. It was only a small cut and had not needed bandaging, but he had not refused.

Because he could not bear to. Because he had not wanted to say no.

He pinched the little ears of the bow on the bandage with his forefinger and thumb.

A faint smile, like a warm breeze. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall.

A spasm of pain from his heat clenched through him.

He staggered up, fumbled for his key, and unlocked the door. Thank goodness the agent was not inside.

He did not want anyone seeing him like this.

When the wave subsided he remembered what Guan Hongyi had said, that he should try a pheromone match and find a compatible Alpha to ease it.

He had always thought he could tough it out. He did not want the mess of an unexpected entanglement he could not shake.

A temporary mark could relieve the pain, but it required exposing his glands. If the other party forced anything while he was weak, he would not be able to fight back.

But this heat had come out of nowhere and nearly turned into a disaster. Like it or not, he had to try.

Cold seeped into him like an ice cellar. His heats were always whiplashing between cold and hot.

Without an inhibitor, the pain hit like a sledgehammer. Most Omegas did not have it as bad as he did. Illnesses from his younger years had left him worse off than most.

One thing, though, was the same: during heat he could feel an urgent need rising from marrow to skin, a desperate craving to be marked and touched by an Alpha. Every cell felt like fire on ice.

Shivering, Gu Xi curled beneath the covers, pulled out his phone, and placed a call to the pheromone matching center.

“I would like to make an appointment for a pheromone match.”

---

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IsitRo:

Halloo~ I see the hug between brothas as a turning point in their relationship, which I believe the moment things start to shift for the better. So moving forward, I’m switching from brother to Ling-ge or ge when Rong Jing refers to Xie Ling. It feels like the right time for that bit of closeness to come through in the way he speaks. :')