HOYSE CHAPTER 34

Chapter 34 — Take Me Home

Rong Jing’s face went blank. Even the gentle warmth he usually wore faded away.

Wu Fuyu stared at him, catching the subtle shift in his scent. His heartbeat, slow and heavy, began to climb.

Rong Jing’s lips were thin, almost colorless. People said a mouth like that meant a cold heart. His nose bridge was straight, features full yet elegant. People also said a nose like that meant a fierce desire. Looks could lie after all.

Even Wu Fuyu did not understand himself. His eyes were packed with resistance toward the same sex, yet some tiny part of him still could not help looking forward to it. It felt like a forbidden door stood in front of him. He kept away, then drifted back, curiosity chewing at him.

He had been raised to be blunt. If he wanted to know something, he asked. Did Rong Jing actually have feelings for him? If not, why had he stared so intently at that place at the banquet, with the look of a man studying a specimen? If he did, Wu Fuyu had not decided how he would answer.

Their mouths drew closer.

Rong Jing’s quiet expression snapped. His eyes flashed, sharp as a hunting cat. His arm shot out, all explosive power, twisting Wu Fuyu’s wrist as his knee hammered toward the joint.

A jolt of shock streaked through Wu Fuyu. Years of basic fighting drills kicked in, and he barely twisted aside. Rong Jing gave him no air. Vicious strikes came one after another. Wu Fuyu found himself startled by the speed over and over, as if Rong Jing was not attacking a man but working a heavy sandbag.

Another kick slammed his shin. Pain bloomed white. Wu Fuyu snarled, “Don’t think I won’t hit back!”

Truth was, he could not win.

This speed, this stamina, this burst. He did not move like a refined Alpha at all. He was a beast waking up. Every hit Wu Fuyu threw was blocked and paid back in double.

Rong Jing said nothing, body tense and silent, then flew in again with a kick at a vicious angle.

Wu Fuyu stumbled back, drawing on everything he knew to slip and guard, feint and counter when he saw an opening. Alpha force and wildness surged between them.

In the exchange, Wu Fuyu’s pulse climbed higher. The shock of each collision lit his nerves like dry grass. That sharp, beautiful power, every kick and punch drilled into by a thousand reps. This kind of feral, over-the-top Alpha was the only kind worth his time.

Rong Jing had not warmed up like this in ages. The better the opponent, the livelier he felt. Except this opponent’s offense was thin. Too much defense. His evasions though were excellent.

Then Wu Fuyu looked at him with eyes that made your hair stand up. Rong Jing only found it gross.

He drove a fist for the face. Wu Fuyu jerked away. Rong Jing stepped in and pinned him to the wall.

They stood there breathing hard, staring.

One gaze hot as magma, the other cold as a glacier.

“How could I be interested in a man who cannot even beat me?” Rong Jing’s scent poured out, wild and unrestrained, like a sleeping lion rousing. Alpha pressure flooded the space until it felt like invisible motes were popping in the air.

Wu Fuyu thought he should be angry, yet he could not deny it. The gloom and tightness in him had been blown out by the clash. Every cell hummed for this Alpha. It felt f***ing great.

“And if you keep looking at me like that, I will dig your eyes out.” Rong Jing was not about to waste time taming a big-name Alpha. He threw the line down and left.

Wu Fuyu watched him go, slumped against the wall, and pressed a palm to his pounding heart.

Since his glorious youth, since that Cinderella Omega had played him, this was the first time his heart had raced like this again.

“Sh***, spicy enough,” he muttered, tongue flicking across his lip, savoring the sting of it.

After he had gone a ways and saw Wu Fuyu was not tailing him, Rong Jing finally let himself relax. He rolled his wrist. This body was not ready for that kind of load. Tomorrow would be all aches.

One moment he was radiating danger, the next he was back to mild and even-tempered.

People nearby drifted away in a hurry, giving the weird Alpha a wide berth. Rong Jing ignored them. He had no idea if he had sold the act well. With someone like Wu Fuyu, a born tyrant, being meek only got you stepped on. Better to burn the boats and make him wary.

He scratched the back of his head, ambling along. No idea if the bluff had stuck.

---

Gu Xi’s eyes flew open to a nightmare.

There was no time to think. As the man dipped in for the kiss, Gu Xi turned his face with pure disgust, slid a hand under his pillow, and ripped out the stun baton. He flicked it to the highest setting. Three seconds would drop an elephant; a human would not last two.

His agent Yang Qi hit the handle just in time to see Xu Shengteng, crazed and braced on Gu Xi’s bed, convulse for a handful of seconds and collapse. Or almost collapse. Gu Xi, drenched in sweat, shoved him off the mattress with one clean kick, like taking out the trash.

Gu Xi looked as if he had been dragged from water, pale-blue sleep shirt plastered to him, lines of his body drawn out in a way that was lethal to look at. Yet his eyes were ice. He held the baton and stared as if through frost. That, more than anything, was what drew your breath.

Xu Shengteng lay there, shaking with fury and the after-currents of electricity.

He slowly turned his head toward the stunned Yang Qi, pushed off the bed, and walked one step at a time to stand before him.

Yang Qi felt a twist of fear.

Gu Xi smiled. Like an orchid flowering in a quiet ravine, beautiful enough to unmake a heart. “Want to try a little lightning?”

He pressed the button. Zzzzt—

The crackle of current.

Yang Qi flinched back a step. He felt like Gu Xi had changed, though he could not name what.

A baton would not pass building security, so Gu Xi kept it at home.

Walk enough nights, you are bound to meet a ghost.

When Yang Qi did not answer, Gu Xi’s eyes were clear. Aside from the excess sweat, there was no sign of weakness. “Breaking and entering is a crime, should I read you the statute?” Gu Xi remembered locking the door when he came home.

“I, I have a key,” Yang Qi stammered. “I am your agent. Of course I can come in…” That was how it had been for years. Natural as breathing.

“That requires my consent. Did I consent? The pry marks on the lock say otherwise. And I am in heat. You brought an Alpha into my place. That is endangering a civilian’s safety.” He powered his phone on and dialed 110, laying out the basics. When he hung up, he looked at Yang Qi, who had not caught up yet. “They are on their way. Wait.”

Yang Qi could not believe it. The old Gu Xi would have smoothed things over. He was the agent, barging in was normal. Now Gu Xi was grabbing the holes in his story and driving them like stakes.

“You are an A-lister,” Yang Qi pleaded. “You know how many media eyes are on you. This kind of story will wreck you. Reporters do not care if you are innocent. Enough Omega scandals and you are just a social butterfly. You do not want that, right? I can apologize. I misjudged today.”

“This is not a misjudgment. You know exactly what I am dealing with. This is a crime. Besides,” Gu Xi said, voice cool and even, “I am about to enter a film crew and was just worrying I had no heat around my name. Thank you. Black and famous is still famous.” Translation: I am pressing charges.

“You have changed, Gu Xi…” Yang Qi’s eyes on the man before him, truly a high ridge of frost, were suddenly full of distance.

“I have always been this way.”

He had been bound before. Now he was cutting himself free inch by inch. Hard or not, he would cut.

He misted the room with scent-blocking spray three times, inside and out, then took the suppressant and staggered into the bathroom, ignoring the agent left standing there.

The door clicked shut and Gu Xi’s body went limp, leaning weakly against it.

He wanted a shower. Every place the man had touched felt filthy.

But there were people outside. He would rather die this second than wash with them there.

He scrubbed himself sickly with a towel, rubbing and rubbing until the skin of his forearm broke and he still did not stop.

A voice sounded in his head: Despairing, are you? Let go. I will take over this body.

Gu Xi exhaled and closed his eyes. Go back. I can handle it. You want to come out and kill Xu Shengteng? No. No matter how disgusting, you cannot kill.

The voice seemed aggrieved, coaxing him again and again, but the body remained under the primary self’s rule. It could not step out at will.

Reminded by that other voice, Gu Xi cooled.

He sat, drew a syringe, and injected the suppressant. Then another. And another. Wrappers piled on the tile.

He stripped the sleep shirt off, wiped away the sweat, and threw on whatever clothes were closest. Turned out to be what he had worn a few days ago. He did not have the energy to care.

He looked into the mirror at a man shredded by heat, teetering on the edge.

Would he ever find an Alpha who matched him? If he did, how many would there be?

Anything above eighty percent could carry him through heat without so much pain. But who would help? What if another Xu Shengteng showed up or another Xie Jisheng?

Could he really gamble?

Voices sounded outside. The police had arrived.

Gu Xi explained the situation calmly. Xu Shengteng was still in his room, which was perfect evidence. The officers, noticing the face, blinked. After they understood the story, they glanced at Gu Xi with a flicker of pity. He was composed again.

Yang Qi saw Gu Xi was serious and lowered his voice. “We have worked together for years. You do not really want to see me taken in, do you? I swear I will never threaten you again or your brother. Do not forget I know your brother’s school, his dorm. Let’s both take a step back. Your contract is almost up. We can part nicely.”

[Go on, wait and see. If I do not ruin you, I wasted all these years.]

Gu Xi gave him a look and said nothing.

As they led Yang Qi away, he tried to argue that he had a key and had the right to enter. A criminal officer cut him off, flat and cold. “You brought an Alpha, pried the lock, and this Omega is in heat. This is a criminal case.” One sentence crushed Yang Qi’s last hope.

Gu Xi watched them go with no ripple at all.

He stood a moment in his room, then took out his phone, typed, and posted to Weibo, adding a moody photo of someone with an umbrella in the rain: I used to think if you held on through the rain, you would see a rainbow. Turns out it just keeps raining. There is no end.

Not his usual tone. He was known for relentless positivity. The line hit like a bruise, and the comments swelled by the minute, fans and onlookers both flocking in. The gossip hounds would smell today’s mess soon enough. Shengteng’s style was to seize the moral high ground and drown him in smear pieces. So he would move first.

The elevator opened and a wheelchair rolled out. In it sat a young man in white, face fine, temperament mild, holding a slim book of philosophy. A light camel wool shawl was draped over his shoulders. He looked clean in a way that almost erased the usual Alpha edge.

His name was Fang Juelian. He had been hurt in a car accident years ago and had never fully recovered. He painted. The hint of bohemian romance that belonged to artists clung to him, inviting at a glance.

There were two apartments to a floor. He lived opposite Gu Xi. They got along well and often exchanged quick visits.

He had learned early on that his neighbor was a star, yet treated him no differently because of it. No special fuss.

Gu Xi thought well of him. Fang Juelian knew how to keep the right distance. Maybe it was the artist in him. He had no real interest in show business. The only time he knocked was when he had baked something new and wanted Gu Xi to taste it. He was simply pleasant to be around. On quiet days Gu Xi would go over to unspool his thoughts, listen to music or cook. They had similar tastes and could actually talk. It was rare to find someone around whom his nerves would loosen.

“I think your agent was taken away downstairs,” Fang Juelian said, worry soft in his voice. The houseman behind him pushed the chair a little closer. “Are you alright?”

It was a high-end building with decent security.

He must have seen the police cars and then the mess across the hall. He was checking in.

Gu Xi did not want to say much. He shook his head. “Just a small thing. It is handled.”

“You do not look alright,” Fang Juelian said gently. “Why not have some hot tea at my place and rest a little? You look exhausted.” The invitation sounded perfectly normal. The care of a neighbor.

[He is beautiful. A slim, flexible waist. Damp hair. Drowsy eyes. The kind of creature made for sin. If I laid him out on a bed, I wonder how blinding he would be. I want to open that body…]

Gu Xi had been about to refuse. His expression froze. He stared straight at Fang Juelian.

A few seconds later he tucked the shock away from his eyes and smoothed his face. He chatted politely as usual until the houseman turned the chair and guided Fang Juelian into his place. Only then did Gu Xi drop his gaze.

Cold rose from the bottom of him and ran to the crown of his head.

He calmly gathered his documents, pulled a cap low and a mask high, packed the essentials, locked the door, and stepped into the elevator.

The whole sequence was one smooth motion. Only when the vents above stroked him with cool air did he come back to himself.

He laughed, a sound without sound.

He sank into a crouch and laughed until water sprang from his eyes. He covered his face with both hands. No one would see him like this.

He left the building and the complex. He walked through the streets as if in a dream, step after step.

Too many suppressants. The backlash was here.

He moved slower than Rong Jing would have on a foggy day. His eyes were dry as an empty well. He stared at the lines in the pavement, walking carefully, the motion dulling the pain by a fraction.

A fine autumn rain began, carrying a thread of chill.

People ducked in twos and threes. A couple held a coat over their heads and laughed as they passed.

He did not know how long he walked. His feet were stiff by the time he looked up and realized he had drifted to XieLier. How had he gotten here?

He looked down at his feet in anger and shame and wanted to scold them. What are you doing? Do you have no shame? How dare you come here. Do you have anything to do with him?

A person that good should stay clean. The best thing would be for him to have nothing to do with you at all.

Do not disturb him.

Gu Xi crouched and slapped his shoes twice, hard.

He lifted his head, stared at XieLier one long moment, then turned and let the rain swallow him again.

He walked and walked and eventually sank onto a long bench.

Behind it lay an artificial lake, lifting a veil of mist in the rain, airy as a dream.

After settling Su Xi’s business, Rong Jing had refused Wu Fuyu’s birthday invitation without a second thought. Whatever face Wu Fuyu pulled did not matter. Since they had already crossed the line into open hostility, there was no point pretending.

Rong Jing slid into the car Xie Ling had assigned him and headed back to XieLier.

After that night at the traffic light, he had the feeling the world itself bore him a particular malice. He had not sorted out the pattern yet, but to be safe he would not drive.

So Xie Ling assigned him a ride. The driver was a friend-of-a-friend. There were two candidates. One was a distant Xie cousin, Xie Yushan, who would one day become Xie Jisheng’s lapdog. Time to send that future lackey back where he belonged. The other was Zhou Xiang’s cousin, Zhou You, a younger version of Zhou himself, stone-faced and relentless. Rumor had it he shared the same goal: be the kind of secretary who could count as ten people.

Rong Jing respected that kind of ambition.

For now Zhou You was his driver and assistant. A ping arrived from the scent matching center just as the car stopped at a red light. He had not checked it yet. His fingers found a lollipop. The nicotine itch was back.

He peeled the wrapper and wondered, offhand, how Gu Xi was. Fate had shoved him into the plot and bent a few rails, but the world seemed determined to shower the protagonist with scum no matter what he did.

Autumn rain pattered against the window and a cool breath slipped in.

He went to close the window and saw, from far off, a solitary figure on a bench by the lake. The cap and the clothes were familiar. That washed-out gray looked good on exactly one person. It stuck in the memory.

And that sealed-up look from head to toe. Could it be Gu Xi?

He had seen the entertainment headlines on Weibo. Gu Xi had already missed several shoots. His studio claimed they could not find him and dumped all the blame on him. The “diva” rumors were piling up. Fans were holding the lines for now, but without a turn, the chamber pot would be dumped squarely on Gu Xi’s head.

Rong Jing remembered Gu Xi’s heats ran longer than most Omegas. Was he still in heat? Was that garbage company really trying to make him work through it?

They probably were. They might even use it as an excuse to force something worse.

He was already reaching for the door.

He had not cared much reading the book. Face to face was different. He liked that cool outside, warm inside of Gu Xi’s.

Getting out was not that simple. Zhou You, calm as ever, noted they had the green and could not make a turn.

“Circle around then,” Rong Jing said, looking one more time at the lone silhouette.

Zhou You obeyed every law like Zhou Xiang did. No speeding. No random turns.

The loop was much larger than Rong Jing had expected. Ten minutes at least before they came around again.

He had Zhou You pull over and stepped out with an umbrella.

Up close, he saw the man’s posture had not changed in those ten-plus minutes. A statue.

Rong Jing softened his steps without meaning to, not wanting to startle him.

“Gu Xi?”

He moved the umbrella over Gu Xi’s head. The fine pricks of rain vanished from Gu Xi’s skin. Did the rain stop?

He heard someone call his name.

Gu Xi lifted his head, eyes swimming.

Something shifted in Rong Jing’s chest. A rain-gray sprite, that is what he looked like. It was really him. How did he end up here. Every time he saw him, it was like a different Gu Xi.

Gu Xi thought he must have gone mad, conjuring a Rong Jing out of thin air.

He stared, then dropped his gaze again, dull eyes on the ground and the sneakers in front of him. Those looked expensive. Xie’s newest pre-order. The hallucination was awfully convincing, right down to the details.

“Gu Xi,” Rong Jing said again.

Gu Xi raised his head once more. The blur in his eyes finally came together.

It really was Rong Jing.

“What are you doing here?” Rong Jing asked when he saw the light come back.

Gu Xi stared straight at him as if he had not understood. He did not answer.

“Do you want to, um, come to my place and wait out the rain?” If you have nowhere to go— No, that was dumb. This was Gu Xi. Of course he had somewhere to go. What was he saying. It was an invitation, but not that kind of invitation. And who said you could not wait out rain anywhere. He sounded like a creepy uncle.

Under those clear eyes, he could feel himself looking ridiculous.

He tried to explain, and his tongue tied itself. A little anxious. Gu Xi kept silent. It felt like a quiet no.

“Then take the umbrella,” Rong Jing said. “You will catch cold.”

Nosy. As if he would want your dumb umbrella. Maybe he was sitting here to feel the rain. You and your faux-poetic self, stomping all over the moment.

He thought it and still set the umbrella by Gu Xi’s feet.

He turned to leave and felt something tug, light as a feather. Familiar, like he had felt it once before.

He looked back. Gu Xi’s eyes were lowered. He could not see the expression.

Cold, stiff fingers had closed on him as he was about to step away. He let the hand go, and it dropped.

A sweet pancake falling from the sky. He would not be greedy. He would just have a bite, a small one.

“Alright.”

Can you take me home?

---

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