HOYSE CHAPTER 9

Chapter 9 – Which one is it?

A pained cry rang through several train cars, drawing every eye.

Rong Jing showed not a shred of pity. His grip tightened, frost settling over his face until he seemed like a different person. The brim of his baseball cap hid most of his expression, leaving only a cool shadow.

In Rong Jing’s eyes, forget the body under the costume. That was just a cat.

Someone hustling to make a living, still in a mascot suit because the job demanded it. Was that why this subway creep felt so brazen? Because he knew the other party had no power or connections and neither the time nor the energy to fight back?

Rong Jing was truly furious. This subway wolf had harassed target after target: first a student, then an office beauty, and now a mascot performer. Every one of them was a soft target. What a brave choice, huh.

Especially the mascot. This line’s last stop was Happy Valley. If not for work, who would wear thin fleece in this heat? Rong Jing had tried this job for a film once in his previous life. Inside that oversized head it was several degrees hotter and suffocatingly humid; sometimes you could not even breathe right.

To work that hard and still be pawed at by an Alpha like you… what kind of logic is that?

A new world did not mean malice disappeared.

There are no fairytales in the adult world, but you can at least carve out somewhere relatively safe.
Rong Jing’s voice was cold. “If you like harassing people so much, why not try an Alpha?” Preying on the weak, what a skill.

Most of the looks around them were condemning, even angry, but few people stepped up.

The man in black-framed glasses knew most folks minded their own business. Indifference was the norm. Things always fizzled out, and many victims were too scared to speak, so his courage had only grown. He had not expected several people to start toward him this time. 

Tsk, rotten luck.

With his free hand, he fumbled something from his pocket. Rong Jing had no idea what it was, but he reacted fast. He shouted to the people nearby, “Close your eyes!”

Who would think a subway wolf would carry pepper spray?

Even Rong Jing was stunned by the man’s shamelessness for a split second. Taking advantage of the gap, black frames timed the station stop, used the opening doors, and slipped through the crowd.

Rong Jing’s hem was tugged, a soft, feathery pull he barely felt. He did not look back. The wolf was already vanishing into the flow. The chance would be gone in a heartbeat. Rong Jing tore after him.

Men like that, once they believed they could escape every time, only grew bolder.

Rong Jing shot forward like a cheetah, leaving behind Gu Xi, who had just pulled off the mascot head to see what was happening. Sweat-damp hair clung to Gu Xi’s face, and he stared, dazed, at the fading figure.

You… at least let me see your face!

Gu Xi had not slept in over fifty hours. Now he was in a mascot suit. Thin or not, plush was plush. He was stewing in there, drenched in sweat, head throbbing.

Once on the train he had found a spot fast, thinking to rest on his feet. He had not paid attention to anyone approaching from behind.

The instant he heard that familiar voice, it was like a splash of ice water. He looked over at once.
But the enormous head blocked his view. The Doraemon mouth let him see out, but there was a thin layer of fabric that blurred everything.

As they brushed past each other, he glimpsed a sharply cut jaw beneath the cap’s shadow and a thin red mouth, a flash of cool water in the haze.

When the man turned to leave, Gu Xi grabbed out near instinctively, but the other did not slow at all and was gone.

The moment the head came off, the car erupted in shrieks. Gu Xi, slick with sweat like some water spirit, appeared before them. Was there anything more shocking, no, more wonderful than Gu Xi on this train?

The cameras faithfully captured Gu Xi’s completely baffled expression from start to finish.

By the show’s rules, he had to play games with the civilians who recognized him. Yet his eyes kept straying to the platform, hoping the man would appear again.

The crew came over to explain the rules while he could only watch helplessly as the doors slid shut.
And everyone else promptly forgot the creep from earlier. They pressed in around Gu Xi until there was no space to breathe, as if that earlier assault had never mattered compared to Gu Xi’s presence.

Rong Jing sprinted after the man. From farther away, he thought he heard wild cheering and screams behind him.

The train was already pulling out. He spared it one glance and thought nothing more. He just wanted to catch that scum. A few other men who had rushed off the train were also giving chase. Strangers, same goal.

Rong Jing considered himself selfish. He did not like inviting trouble. Most of the time he only wanted to protect himself and those he cared about. But when trouble ran right into you, that was called delivering yourself to his door.

It was rush hour. Rong Jing did not know the station’s layout well, which was fatal. The others split up to search.

Rong Jing did not dash blindly. He went straight to the nearest subway police and showed them the short video he had filmed while following earlier. He ran after the man but still kept evidence. The recording cut off the moment the creep touched the mascot.

The subway police immediately alerted patrols at the exits, logging the man’s features and clothing. Any suspicious person would be stopped. In this short window he would not have time to change. Sure enough, within minutes they found him trying to slip out through the relatively empty Exit E.

Rong Jing and the others who had chased pointed him out together. With the video as proof, the man was quickly detained and handed over to arriving officers.

Even the subway cop winced at Rong Jing. “Classmate, you should wash your face and cool down.”

Only then did Rong Jing notice the burn where the spray had hit him. He rushed to the nearest restroom.

Even now he checked the sign carefully and entered Man A. Ten minutes of cold water later, his face finally stopped stinging.

He came out to find someone waiting.

It was one of the men who had chased, the only Alpha among a group of Betas. That had given Rong Jing a small, inexplicable sense of relief.

Since arriving in this world, opinions on Alphas had been wildly polarized. He could feel how particular this group’s status was.

The Alpha called out and stared at him for a long moment. “Rong Jing?”

Rong Jing’s aura had changed so much that the other was afraid of a mistake.

Rong Jing had not gotten a good look at him. He had only sensed another Alpha and had not expected someone the original knew. He smoothed over his surprise, rifled through the original’s memories, and greeted him the same way the original would. “Ji Leping. Long time no see.”

Ji Leping was the monitor of the 2012 Acting Department’s Class B, a social natural with real ability who also worked in the student union. Because of the original’s accident during the freshman showcase, the entire class had been mocked by the whole school and had ostracized him. Ji Leping was one of the few who still spoke to him, so the original had thought well of him.

As with Xie Ling, Rong Jing took memory as reference. He preferred to judge for himself.

Like an old friend, Ji Leping asked, “Today’s the day preliminary results for grad school come out. Did you pass?”

Rong Jing had met plenty of this type in the industry in his last life. They cultivated networks and avoided offending anyone. Even a has-been like the original might rise again one day. People like this were the hardest to read; he usually kept his distance.

He answered as usual. “No idea yet. You know I do not have a computer.”

Ji Leping remembered the original’s poor background. In school, he would eat plain rice to fund Qi Ying’s high spending. He even remembered the three-compartment Lady Dior that Qi Ying had once carried, bought with Rong Jing’s endless part-time work.

In the class group chat, they had been celebrating the rumored breakup with the department flower from Image Creation, Qi Ying. Hashtags were flying: finally free of the sticky plaster, at last escaped the leech, how could he not know his place, what part of him is worthy of such an excellent Omega. The toad finally stopped dreaming of swan meat, right?

The talk had not stopped for years.

That accident had been a particularly humiliating moment, and naturally most of the blame had been pinned on Rong Jing.

University did not breed outright bullying, but rejection and disdain were everywhere. Most of them would have loved to nail him to a pillar of shame.

Ji Leping realized Rong Jing had never left the class chat.

He had so little presence that people forgot he was even there.

He did not know if Rong Jing had read last night’s messages. The chat had gone on past midnight, dripping with sarcasm, everyone waiting to laugh at the newly dumped loser. Some even guessed he might kill himself over it. Everyone knew how much he liked Qi Ying. How could he not go crazy after a breakup?

Seeing that Rong Jing was not as destroyed as they had imagined, Ji Leping felt awkward under that cool gaze. He pivoted. “My dorm has a computer. I am acting and prepping for grad school at the same time, so I have not moved yet. Want to come?”

Rong Jing declined. “No need. Checking results is easy.”

Ji Leping did not push. He figured going to school meant results were secondary and schmoozing a prospective advisor was primary. He did not have the heart to say that with Rong Jing’s reputation, most professors would probably cut him at the interview stage.

He thought telling the truth was too cruel. Not telling meant watching him hit a wall. They were not close, and Rong Jing did not look like someone who could turn things around. Better to pretend he did not know.

Rong Jing could read the man’s face. He guessed the conflict and changed the subject. “You heading back to see your results too?”

“Yeah. Have you picked an advisor?”

“Would that even be up to me?” Rong Jing said, genuinely puzzled.

The reply stuck in Ji Leping’s throat. He had not expected Rong Jing to have such a calm mindset after such a major emotional blow.

If you asked whether grad admissions in the film academy were rigged or watered down:

The professional prelims were fair. Short answers, essays, definitions, political theory, English, all had to meet the cutoff.

But the interview? Two words: it depends. If you happened to be familiar with a professor on the panel, it could tilt things. Interviews were subjective by nature.

With a reputation like Rong Jing’s, even passing the prelims left his odds near zero. Most advisors had status and name recognition. Who wanted a student with a stain?

“I get the feeling you are not worried at all.”

“Would worrying help?” With the danger past and Ji Leping making small talk, Rong Jing drifted for a moment.

He touched his hem. When he had run out after the creep, he had felt a light tug. Was that his imagination?

Back at the station where they had boarded, a surge of people had gathered. Trains were always crowded, but this was different. Even when a train arrived, few got on. Everyone looked giddy, pink bubbles floating over the whole scene.

A bit of asking explained it. A subway train had been secretly filming A Day in a Star’s Life, and today’s guest was Gu Xi, the dream Omega of countless boys and girls, ranked in the global Top 50 Most Beautiful list by looks alone.

That list’s judges were all European. For an Asian face, appearance was not even the key. Fame mattered more, plus recognition by the general public, which meant national reach.

Back then, Gu Xi had only debuted a year. No matter how popular, he was new. He had muscled into the ranking on looks alone, which said plenty about the force of his appeal.

Listening to Ji Leping fanboy all the way, the man who had seemed so measured was suddenly starry-eyed. Then he pounded his chest in regret over missing a close encounter.

“You are his fan?”

“Are you kidding me? What Alpha could resist him? If you can, you are definitely not an Alpha!” Seeing Rong Jing’s non-reaction, Ji Leping narrowed his eyes. “Why do you look like you feel nothing at all?”

Rong Jing: … I am currently focused on your face-heel turn.

And why did the name Gu Xi keep popping up around him since he crossed over? He was like the protagonist of the space itself, a child of destiny with all the luck.

He shook off the thought. Crossing worlds had made his thinking unscientific.

Then again, time travel was unscientific to begin with.

Ji Leping’s face soured, as if not worshiping Gu Xi were a mortal sin.

“You are done for. You are poisoned by Qi Ying. I have to re-educate you, so you see true beauty. So you understand what it means when an angel descends.”

Rong Jing wanted to ask what Qi Ying had to do with this. Also, wow, the rainbow farts from fans were fearless.

Still, meeting a true believer stirred a faint nostalgia. In his last life, he had plenty of fans and had met every flavor. When he saw someone cheering with a whole heart, he hated to pour cold water on them.

He listened quietly, chiming in now and then.

The once-indignant Ji Leping relaxed at Rong Jing’s attitude and finally smiled. He suddenly realized Rong Jing was not bad at all. You rarely saw an Alpha this mild.

They had barely reached campus when they saw the banner: A warm welcome to alumni Gu Xi and Xun Jiarui for a guest lecture.

Both were at the top of the charts with recent hits, guaranteed to draw hordes of juniors.

Remembering what he had heard in the station, Ji Leping searched for Gu Xi’s leaked schedule online and immediately found Weibo photos of Gu Xi on the train, removing the mascot head and bending to sign for fans.

Even in passerby shots, sweat-damp Gu Xi sparkled.

Ji Leping worked his connections and secured two of the best front-row seats.

“Going?” he asked.

In his mind, even if you were not a fan, who could bear to say no to Gu Xi? Yet right in front of him was a weirdo.

Seeing Rong Jing actually wavering, Ji Leping groaned. “You can check scores anytime. Advisors are not going anywhere. But chances to see Gu Xi do not come twice.”

He did not say the rest. Given Rong Jing’s trajectory, this might be his only chance to see a superstar up close.

Rong Jing just did not want another disappointment. He was sure Gu Xi’s face did not trigger his memory.

As the hope of going back thinned, seeing him would only add sadness. He could not help a laugh at Ji Leping’s urgency.

Ji Leping realized his wording and clapped his own mouth. “Bah bah bah, Gu Xi will live to a hundred. Forgive a believer’s slip! You probably have not heard. Gu Xi’s next film is a massive production. They are still casting his opposite. Rumor is he has veto power. If we go, maybe your devastating looks will get you picked.”

Rong Jing nodded without much conviction. A professional like Gu Xi would not casually pick some undergrad with little experience.

He had looked up Gu Xi. Whether in music or film, Gu Xi chose projects with care. You did not go silent for three years and then explode overnight without standards. He had principles. People like that did not lose their heads and risk their future.

In the green room, Gu Xi was touching up. The makeup artist realized he had come without makeup again and clicked his tongue. The cameras recorded it all.

Gu Xi was distracted, replaying that flash from the train and that voice.

Another male guest, a long-established actor, walked in then.

Handsome and stylish, Xun Jiarui had shot to popularity with a second male lead in a remake of an idol drama: devoted, silent, sacrificial for love. Trite as the plot was, the archetype never died.

He spotted Gu Xi at once and his eyes lit up. “Gu Xi, I did not expect you so early.”

Gu Xi blinked, pushing the makeup artist’s hand aside and staring hard at him. “Your… your voice.”

Xun Jiarui touched his Adam’s apple. His original voice had not been pleasant. To get a better sound, he had taken a huge risk with a vocal surgery abroad. Now fully recovered, he was very satisfied with his low, magnetic tone. Many Os had fallen for those suit pants.

He had not expected the famous ice-cold flower of the circle to be bewitched by it. He immediately put on his best smile. “What about it?”

Gu Xi was slightly dazed. “Was your voice always like this?”

It was so much like the one in his memory. The build too, a little similar. Was it him?

“Of course,” Xun Jiarui said. A flicker of panic passed through his eyes, but he steadied quickly.
Just then, the host notified Gu Xi that the lecture was about to begin.

Gu Xi forced himself to focus and get on with it.

Still, he could not help saying, “Senior Xun, will you be free after? There is something I want to discuss.”

Delight flashed across Xun Jiarui’s face. So the high-cold flower was just like anyone else after all.

When Gu Xi stepped onto the stage, the small hall boiled with applause. Reporters had gathered as well.
He was used to big scenes. Calm and composed, he gave a small bow and prepared to begin.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tall student in the front row stand as if to leave, only to be shoved back down by a friend. Gu Xi glanced once and then his gaze locked.

That tall boy’s shape and build were a little like that person’s.

He could not help flicking his eyes back to Xun Jiarui, smiling up at him from below. Swept by that soul-hooking gaze, Xun Jiarui felt his spirit fly out of him. If not for the cameras, he would have rushed the stage.

Right then, Gu Xi felt like an egg in a frying pan, about to be cooked through.

Which one is it?

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