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HOYSE CHAPTER 6
Chapter 6 – What Is Your Problem?
After helping deliver the drunk to his room, Rong Jing went back down to the first floor to check in.
He could have found a cheaper hotel, but he was too tired to bounce around. He still carried a sour, boozy smell, and it was only thanks to the staff’s professionalism that no one kicked him out for being “improperly dressed.”
That said, when he saw the big chunk of money vanish from his card, his chest pinched a little. Was this place daylight robbery?
At the front desk, the clerk paused mid-typing after taking his ID, glanced up at Rong Jing, and her professional smile shifted into a much more respectful expression. She bowed and returned his documents with both hands.
Rong Jing took them without thinking. When nothing requires his attention, he tends to go into standby mode, screening out the world saves energy.
He looked at the room number on the keycard and headed straight to the elevator, politely declining the lobby manager’s offer to escort him.
Inside the room, he did not immediately rest. No matter how exhausted, he almost reflexively chose clothes for tomorrow, hung them up, and steamed every crease, even the tiny ones. It was a habit from his previous life, a way to welcome the next day properly.
In the bathroom, he realized he had barely looked in a mirror during those three muddled days.
The man in the glass was tall, pale-skinned, with a soft pearly sheen under the warm light. His frame was balanced and strong. The brow ridge was deeper than average, giving him a faintly mixed heritage look. In the memories, the biological father did have a quarter European blood. There was a natural distance in his bearing.
Objectively speaking, he was not as handsome as the “him” from the old world, maybe eighty percent there.
He did not mind though. A face is not the only bonus stat. Besides, the old him looked fierce even while spacing out, the kind of face that sent people scattering. At least now he would not scare kids. He could now zone out in peace.
He took off his shirt. Below the faint pecs lay a scar about three centimeters long. It went deep and had required three stitches. The original owner got it as a kid while shielding his mother.
Shouted arguments, spraying blood, a shattered camera lens, broken fragments of memory.
Rong Jing touched the faintly uneven line. The prick of pain seemed to stab straight into his brain. The original owner was gone, but the muscles still remembered.
After showering, he towel-dried his hair and walked out naked. Alone, he was easygoing to the point of unruly. He tugged on casual pants, sprawled on the bed, and began to surf.
As soon as he plugged in the charger, the phone powered on. He opened his Weibo. Not many followers, just over ten thousand. Among Film Academy students, that was unimpressive.
The account dated back to freshman year. The original owner, unlike Qi Ying, had been admitted to the coveted Acting Department. For the entrance talent portion, he chose dance, which usually had a low bar, and performed a highly difficult folk routine. He had the flexibility, the looks, and few Alphas ever picked dance. That touch of originality got him through the door.
He had clashed with the Xie family over his college choice and moved out to pursue his dream. He loved acting and started well. Then, at a class showcase, he discovered he could not face the camera or crowd and turned the entire class into a joke.
After that, he never went on stage again. No one offered chances. He could only practice in private.
Thanks to that disaster, he earned a nickname: “Rong Accident.” If he was present, the performance would crash. The reputation spread until he was one of the most famous students on campus, second only to those who were already stars. As graduation approached, classmates found paths: talent shows, behind-the-scenes shifts, steady gigs on sets big or small. Only the original owner, crippled by camera fear, never got a real shot.
He did not give up. Four years of drilling for the lens, and the moment the camera appeared, everything fell apart again. That was why, after graduation, he listened to his mother and returned to the Xie house for a time. He had held on so long he could no longer remember why. Then he found out about Qi Ying’s wandering heart, and the anxiety set in. He started looking for a way out.
The Weibo had been opened with the crowd freshman year. A military-training photo had briefly made him popular, which was where most of those followers came from. After that, the count stagnated.
His posts were mostly daily life, occasional selfies, and little notes about Qi Ying, carefully “sweet” moments. He never showed Qi Ying’s face. Fans only knew he had a steady boyfriend.
It had been more than half a year since the last update. When he discovered Qi Ying’s other ambiguities, the posting stopped.
Rong Jing figured he should put a period on the original owner’s one-sided chase.
He opened the window and took a shot of the starry night, thinking of what to write. Literary flourishes were not his thing. He was always a team guy; language arts were not his strong suit. He kept it simple:
“Wishing you a bright future. May we both be well.”
Even with so few fans, his return pinged their radar at once. After half a year, their excitement bubbled up:
-roughly equivalent to WTF or Holy Sh*t! Woc,
- Back from the dead?
- Is this breakup month or what? How many couples is this already?
- I always felt your boyfriend did not love you. Most of your photos of him were all back views, so distant. This is better. Happy breakup!
The original owner also followed Xie Ling’s account. That alone showed he did not ignore the family completely, he watched in secret.
Just then, Xie Ling reposted a Weibo with a heart emoji. The original post was by an account called “EatEatEat-GuXi,” a photo of a bracelet. The bracelet looked familiar.
Rong Jing blinked. Who would have thought, big brother?
Maybe he was a Gu Xi fan too?
But the repost disappeared a moment later. Mistap? Something else?
Rong Jing checked the trending topics. Hashtag #GuXiSupportMerch had jumped into the top ten. Over a hundred thousand comments, a mix of fan frenzy and bystander noise.
He saw the slender wrist wearing a black bracelet.
I think I had one too?
He looked at his own wrist. Where did mine go?
He searched a while and gave up.
He followed Gu Xi’s account on impulse, filed under Film and TV Stars then noticed Gu Xi followed no one. Wow. Zero following. Stylish.
Still too wired to sleep, he found Gu Xi’s film Lota’s 365 Days on a streaming site, paid for it, then hit play.
The first image: It was raining. Mud-caked feet sprinting, water splashing like diamonds. A dark blue palette, taut and muted.
A long take. Credits rolling. Without noticing, Rong Jing sank in.
Just then a WeChat came in but he kept his eyes on the screen.
Onscreen, Gu Xi trudged through snow, leaving a stitched line of footprints. A rope hung from his thin shoulder, attached to a basket lined with a blanket and mounted on wheels. Inside was his little sister. He pushed a cart in front and dragged the basket behind, finally reaching a spot by the road where he rubbed his hands, breathed warm air into them, and began selling hot water to passerby.
His hands were raw with chilblains, split in places, red and purple, painful to look at, yet numb to him. He breathed into his palms and watched the road with quiet hope, waiting for someone to stop at his tiny stall. Before any customers appeared, a few thuggish backs entered the frame. Rong Jing’s heart climbed into his throat.
The WeChat was from Qi Ying: I booked that audition for you. Tomorrow at 8 A.M. Don’t be late.
Absorbed in the film, Rong Jing swiped the message away without really reading and kept watching.
That night, Qi Ying had met a new drama’s producer and also the so-called cold-faced King of Hell among investors: Xie Ling. Xie Ling had only been at that hotel to dine with partners. Their drama was a trivial Xie-family project. Still, to Qi Ying, it was a ladder.
At the dinner he managed only a single toast and never found a perfect opening. Luck struck later in the corridor. He saw Xie Ling with a secretary at his side. Xie Ling, focused on a call, gestured for the interpreter to move a German document and said into the phone, “You are, in the end, one of the Xie's family.”
Must be talking to a family member after a fight. That harsh man’s eyes softened a fraction as he spoke.
Whoever it was did not take it well and hung up soon after. Xie Ling noticed Qi Ying lurking at the corner.
Qi Ying moved to chat. A delicate, pretty Omega like him rarely met resistance from Alphas, even if he showed up out of the blue. He introduced himself, only to be met with a glance as flat as a kick at a roadside pebble.
“Casting you as lead is a matter for the Film and Planning departments, with help from those backing you. It has nothing to do with my support. Instead of casting a net at sea, go study acting.” Xie Ling looked at him like at a joke. “Excuse me.”
Qi Ying did not parse it at first. Only when the man’s figure vanished did he fully understand the plain contempt and open mockery. As if to say, what gave you the confidence to approach me?
His face flared red. He had never met an Alpha who cared so little for an Omega’s face.
Annoyed as he was, he knew better than to offend Xie Ling. Who could out-capital Xie Ling? The first heir of the Xie conglomerate, already making waves in university, nicknamed the Wolf of Wall Street.
A name is a shadow, and so is a tree’s. Men like that had only one soft spot: the family they truly kept in their hearts.
Finding it late, Xie Ling took his team to a hotel under the family’s name to rest and discuss project timelines.
Near midnight, after the meeting, an assistant whispered in his ear. Xie Ling’s brow creased. “You are telling me Xiao Jing booked a room hours ago and brought a drunk Omega? What is he doing? What is he thinking?”
He was usually taciturn but the words spilled out.
Had that matter hit him this hard? He had overestimated Rong Jing’s mental resilience. A once well-behaved kid, and now he was abducting a drunk Omega? Did he not know that was a crime? And had the nerve to do it at a family hotel too, like begging to be caught.
Blink once and you have a criminal in the family?
Seeing the seriousness, he called the manager immediately. After learning the details that Rong Jing had booked two rooms, he let go of the “catch them in the act” impulse.
With the room number in hand, they marched up to the 17th floor.
In the silent corridor, Xie Ling stopped outside Rong Jing’s door. He leaned in and listened. The soundproofing was too good.
The assistants behind him bowed their heads and pretended not to see their vice president acting like a creep.
He checked his watch. Midnight. “Let him sleep. We will talk in the morning.”
Inside, Rong Jing drifted off watching the film, the shifting light painting his face. He had no idea there was a whole team waiting outside his door.
Xie Ling took a few steps, muttering, “He paid for the room? And a standard one? Did he forget this is my property?”
As if. That acquisition had been a golden case study three years ago, an industry legend stuff.
“… So paying means drawing a line with me?”
What was with this kid? Planning to rebel?
Thus, it was a sleepless night for many.
Rong Jing, however, slept like a rock. After the shelter’s wind and rain, this was the best night he ever had.
Morning seeped through the heavy curtains. He silenced his phone alarm.
He has a quirk: right after waking, his brain is at its emptiest. He needs a few minutes to boot.
Moving slowly, he got out of bed, hair sticking up like a nest, and washed, brushed, and shaved. He put on the clothes he had steamed last night. As he smoothed his collar, his mind finally spun up and today’s plans clicked into place.
He needed to visit the school. The original owner had applied for the Film Academy’s graduate program this year. Even if the road to acting had collapsed, he still wanted a way forward. Rong Jing respected that refusal to give up.
The graduate results process changes yearly. Like last year, you needed to pass both the single-subject line and the overall line to make the interview. Today was results day.
He stepped out of the bathroom and reached for the curtains when he sensed a presence by the window. Only a few slivers of light made it in, so all he saw was a dark shape.
He sucked in a breath. “Who is there?”
His body snapped into attack mode, aura turning dangerous. What kind of hotel let thieves just stroll in?
The Alpha “napper” at the window felt a powerful surge slam toward him. He wrestled down his own urge to strike back and opened his eyes slowly. His voice was cold. “Is this how you greet your big brother?”
Oh. Big brother.
Wait. You came here to watch me wake up? What is your problem?
After getting out of the car, Gu Xi looked left and right to make sure no one had tailed him, then went into the hotel. Mask, cap, glasses, fully armed, he followed the directions he had gotten by phone.
Dubbing had run until four in the morning. He had only then heard that his friend Guan Hongyi had caught his boyfriend cheating and had raised hell at a bar before disappearing. No one knew where he went. Gu Xi skipped sleep and searched everywhere, calling all night. He finally got through. On the line, Guan sounded half-dead.
At the room number Guan had sent, Gu Xi knocked for ages. A staff member almost opened it with a master key before someone staggered over to unlock it, drunk out of his mind.
Guan’s careful makeup had melted. The wig lay discarded on the floor. The whole person sagged with despair.
Seeing he was alive, Gu Xi let go of the tension that had been holding him upright all night.
There had been several headless rape-murder cases in the suburbs recently, all victims young Omegas, the scenes horrific. Some suspected a night-shift driver. Furthermore, the case was ongoing.
Gu Xi glanced at the man crawling back under the covers, took off his own disguise, wet a towel in the bathroom, and came out to clean his friend’s face.
Guan pointed weakly at a bag on the floor. “Remover and cotton pads are in there.”
As Gu Xi rummaged, he said, “You were that drunk and still made it to a hotel?”
Guan propped his chin and grinned. “Someone brought me. A super handsome, super manly Alpha.”
Gu Xi snorted. “Keep sleeping. You can dream a little longer.”
“You dare mock me for daydreaming? No manners. Hmph! Why not believe me? I have never seen anyone like that since I was born. He had that abstinent vibe, like his whole body was temptation and no one could have a taste. So cold and clean. Such a mood!”
“The key is, he was really principled. He did not touch what he shouldn’t. This once-in-a-century type is too f***ing enticing.” He remembered, in the taxi, that Alpha had carried him properly. In situations like that, what Alpha could hold back?
Shame he threw up and passed out. Otherwise, who knew what might have happened.
Gu Xi was about to say there are no such Alphas in this world when a thought flickered and he closed his mouth.
Guan’s real face emerged slowly as the makeup came off. Seeing Gu Xi tidying the messy room, he sobered a little. “That man-eating, bone-spitting contract of yours… it is ending soon, right?”
“End of the month.”
“Be careful. I am worried they will lash back. You are their most precious cash cow.”
Gu Xi did not answer. Guan knew his temperament. He wanted to carry everything himself and never shared bad news, even with friends.
Gu Xi had once survived by scavenging near dumpsters. Sometimes he emptied one bin into another, crawled into the empty one, and slept curled up inside. Maybe because it happened often, Guan had found him. Gu Xi, deliberately smeared with dirt, had glared with stubborn eyes when Guan asked, “Kid, want to come with me?”
He had stared like a cornered little beast.
“I can only give you food and a place to sleep,” Guan had said. “You can leave whenever you want.”
Gu Xi had refused without a word and never followed him. Only when he fainted from hunger did Guan carry that impossibly stubborn child to the hospital.
The little leopard with a bite never let people close. Guan still remembered it took years for Gu Xi to accept him bit by bit.
Half-dragging Guan out to the hall, Gu Xi waited for the elevator. An Alpha passed behind them. Alphas always broadcast their presence, loud and unchecked. Gu Xi’s body tightened again. It was becoming a reflex.
The elevator arrived just then. He hurried Guan inside.
From not far away, a clear voice drifted over, talking to someone nearby. “No, I did not forget. I already bought the outfit for the banquet.”
Gu Xi’s gaze sharpened. That voice…
He had not seen the face during the collision, but the voice, he had a fuzzy memory of it.
He hit the open button and the doors parted, but with Guan on his arm his movements were limited. He took a single step out and caught a glimpse of a tall, clean-cut silhouette at the corner before it vanished.
It was rare to see Gu Xi’s face without the professional smile, shaded only with quiet anxiety. Guan stared. “What is wrong?”
Gu Xi blinked, then shook his head.
“Nothing. I saw wrong.”
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