Distorted Fairy Tale - Chapter 20

Zhou Ning had come over to learn how to make desserts from Song Zhen. Fu Yuhang happened to be home as well, so the three of them shared lunch. Throughout the meal, Zhou Ning couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off between the two of them.

It was hard to put a finger on it. was it just awkwardness?

While they were kneading dough at the kitchen island, Zhou Ning couldn’t help but whisper, “What’s going on with you two? Did you have a fight?”

“No,” Song Zhen replied softly, keeping his eyes downcast.

Ever since that day, Song Zhen had been reluctant to speak to Fu Yuhang. At night, he slept as far away as possible, his back turned coldly toward him. Fu Yuhang had clearly picked up on the shift in attitude. Unwilling to humor what he saw as a sudden bout of petulance, he didn’t bother reaching out. The two had settled into a subtle, icy cold war.

It was as if the first person to speak would be the one to admit defeat.

“Do you have any idea how much you two look like an awkward couple who’ve been divorced for years?” Zhou Ning leaned in closer to Song Zhen’s ear. He kept his voice low, mindful of Fu Yuhang sitting on the living room sofa, reading the financial news.

After a moment of silence, Song Zhen said, “We actually are getting a divorce soon.”

“What!?”

“We have an agreement. Once the baby is born and the paperwork is ready, we’re ending it.”

“Wait, you guys. I mean how? What happened?” Zhou Ning was so shocked he could barely get the words out.

“We were never from the same world to begin with,” Song Zhen said, looking up at Zhou Ning. “If I divorce Fu Yuhang, will we still be friends?”

“Of course!” Zhou Ning said immediately. “Marriage isn’t something you can force. You should do whatever makes you happy.”

“Okay.” Song Zhen offered a small smile.

Not far away, Fu Yuhang watched the faint smile on Song Zhen’s lips, his gaze darkening. The butler, standing nearby, couldn’t help but murmur, “Young Master, your newspaper is upside down.”

“Mind your business.” Fu Yuhang flipped the paper upright, staring at it with annoyance. “What’s wrong with this printing press? Even the bar charts are printed backward.”

Feeling that Song Zhen had been in low spirits lately, Zhou Ning started visiting more often, taking him out to see various sights around City A.

Since the Zhou family businesses were all managed by his brother, Zhou Ning had zero professional ambition. He had plenty of money, even more time, and was an expert in the art of leisure—perfectly content being a “useless” socialite.

Zhou Ning loved a crowd. He thrived in social settings and took Song Zhen to numerous gatherings, introducing him to everyone they met: “This is Song Zhen, my friend!”

The other young heirs and socialites would follow suit with polite platitudes: “Any friend of Master Zhou is a friend of mine.” Their warmth was a bit overwhelming for Song Zhen.

One evening, Zhou Ning took him to a trendy new bar called “The Isle.” When Song Zhen mentioned he couldn’t drink, Zhou Ning assured him they were just there for the music.

The performer was a stunning Omega with bright eyes and a clear, cool voice. Zhou Ning stared at him for a long time. As soon as the set ended, Zhou Ning turned to Song Zhen and said, “Zhenzhen, wait for me here. I’ll be right back.”

Song Zhen guessed what he was up to and gave a helpless smile. “Go ahead.”

As Song Zhen sat alone in the booth sipping a glass of milk, a voice suddenly drifted over. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Song Zhen was about to decline, but when he looked up, he froze. His mouth parted in surprise. “Jiang Mingyu!?”

The Alpha standing before him wore a pink shirt, his peach-blossom eyes crinkled in a grin. “Long time no see, Song Zhen.”

Back when Song Zhen lived in the slums, he had worked part-time at Jiang Mingyu’s bar. Jiang had looked out for him back then, and Song Zhen never expected to run into an old friend in a city like this.

“What are you doing in City A?”

Years ago, Jiang Mingyu had pursued Song Zhen for a long time. They had even joked once that if they both reached thirty without finding the right person, they’d give it a shot together. But then Song Heng appeared, and that playful pact was forgotten.

“Big cities have more opportunities,” Jiang Mingyu remarked casually. “What about you? Are you here alone? Where’s your… partner?”

“He’s.” Song Zhen hesitated. “He’s busy. I came with a friend.”

“I didn’t realize you two moved here. Bring Song Heng by for a drink sometime. This is my place. I’ll give you a discount,” Jiang Mingyu said with a wink.

“I will,” Song Zhen smiled.

As they caught up, Song Zhen learned that Jiang Mingyu had only recently arrived to seek medical treatment for his daughter, Jiajia. She wasn’t his biological child; he had adopted her. Jiajia had congenital heart disease and had been abandoned because of it. Jiang Mingyu, being alone in the world, had used his savings to stabilize her condition. Given the better education resources in City A, he planned to stay.

“Jiang Mingyu, you’re a good father,” Song Zhen said softly.

Jiang Mingyu looked at him. “Now I just want to find a mother for her. Give her a real family.”

“You’re a great guy. I’m sure you will.”

“Ah, if I’m so great, why didn’t I ever catch your eye? It was love at first sight for me, you know,” Jiang Mingyu joked self-deprecatingly. “Where did I lose out to that kid Song Heng? Was it my face? I’m pretty handsome, aren’t I?”

Song Zhen thought about it seriously. “Love just. doesn’t need a reason, I guess.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It doesn’t.”

They clinked glasses and shared a smile, which was exactly when Zhou Ning returned sporting two fresh, red handprints on his face.

“Xiao Ning! What happened?” Song Zhen gasped.

“Who’s this?” Zhou Ning asked, eyeing Jiang Mingyu.

“A friend of mine, and the owner of this bar,” Song Zhen explained quickly before pressing, “Seriously, what happened to your face?”

Zhou Ning sat down with a miserable expression and downed a drink. With the symmetrical slap marks on his pretty face, he looked incredibly pitiful.

“I went to ask that beautiful singer for his number.” Zhou Ning began sheepishly.

“And?”

“I liked him so much I couldn’t help myself. I asked him, ‘I really like you, do you want to be mine?'” Zhou Ning said indignantly. “And then he slapped me! He told me to go ‘be with my mother’!”

“So I said, ‘If you like my mom, have you asked my dad?’ and then he called me a psychopath and slapped me again.” Zhou Ning pouted, grabbing Song Zhen’s arm. “Zhenzhen, it hurts so much… but why do I like him even more now?”

Song Zhen finally understood why Fu Yuhang felt a sense of guilt toward Zhou Ning. The man was like a child who refused to grow up. Was this really the result of him saving Fu Yuhang when they were kids?

Song Zhen was speechless, but Jiang Mingyu laughed. “Le Yan has a bit of a temper. You shouldn’t have said that to him.”

“Little brother, that’s not how you pursue someone,” Jiang Mingyu added. “Though I wasn’t successful myself, still.” He glanced at Song Zhen. “Zhenzhen, when I was chasing you, did you ever actually consider being with me?”

“What! You two have a history!?” Zhou Ning’s eyes went wide.

“That’s a loaded question…” Song Zhen thought about it. “To be honest, if he hadn’t shown up and you’d kept at it for another six months, I probably would have said yes.”

“See? It’s all about technique,” Jiang Mingyu said proudly. “At the very least, don’t make a terrible first impression. You’re being too impatient.”

Zhou Ning’s eyes lit up. “One word from a master is worth ten Omegas! Master, teach me!”

“Tell you what,” Jiang Mingyu smiled. “Master Zhou, if you buy 100,000 yuan worth of credit at the bar, the lessons are free.”

“100,000!?”

Song Zhen thought it was absurd. No sane person would drop that much money for some “masterclass.”

“That’s a bargain!” Zhou Ning whipped out his bank card. “Master, do you take card?”

Jiang Mingyu smoothly produced a POS machine. “Of course.”

Zhou Ning happily swiped his card, slap marks and all. He turned to Song Zhen with a grin. “Zhenzhen, your friend is awesome.”

Song Zhen was silent. He looked at Jiang Mingyu, who offered a subtle, knowing wink. So this is what a top-tier salesman looks like.

Song Zhen gave him a thumbs-up. “You’re incredible.”

It was very late when Song Zhen arrived home. As soon as he walked through the door, he saw Fu Yuhang sitting in the living room, staring at him coldly.

Song Zhen froze for a second, then silently changed into his slippers. He headed for the stairs.

Just as he stepped onto the first tread, Fu Yuhang’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “Come here.”

Song Zhen sighed inwardly and walked over. “What is it?”

“11:25 PM.” Fu Yuhang glanced at his watch and looked up, his brows sharp with suppressed rage. “Tell me, what have you been doing? You’ve been coming home at this hour for a week straight.”

“I’ve been patient, Song Zhen,” Fu Yuhang said. “Don’t push your luck.”

Even though Fu Yuhang was sitting, his presence was overwhelming. He let his pheromones flare without restraint, filling the room with a crushing pressure that made it hard for Song Zhen to breathe.

“What are you implying?” Song Zhen frowned.

“What am I implying?” Fu Yuhang let out a cold laugh. He grabbed Song Zhen’s wrist and yanked him down between his knees. “Smell yourself. You’re covered in the scent of another Alpha. It’s thick. You spent at least an hour alone with an Alpha today. Where were you? Meeting a lover?”

“I did not!” Song Zhen gritted his teeth.

“I’m warning you, Song Zhen. You’d better hope I never catch you,” Fu Yuhang’s expression was terrifyingly cold. “If I find out there’s someone else, I’ll kill him first, and then I’ll deal with you.”

The intensity of the pheromones made Song Zhen’s head spin and his face pale. Taking his silence for guilt, Fu Yuhang dragged him upstairs.

The moment they hit the bedroom, Fu Yuhang began stripping Song Zhen’s clothes off. He hauled him into the bathroom and into the tub. Song Zhen tried to protest weakly, “What are you doing?”

“Scrubbing this filthy scent off you,” Fu Yuhang hissed. He turned the showerhead on, spraying Song Zhen with water. Droplets ran down Song Zhen’s pale skin and clung to his trembling lashes. He didn’t dare speak.

After “cleaning” him, Fu Yuhang wrapped him in a towel, carried him out, and threw him onto the bed.

He leaned down, pressing his weight onto Song Zhen, and moved to bite his gland.

He needed to mark him. He needed to overwrite any other scent with his own, to leave bruises and bites so that anyone who dared look at Song Zhen would know this Beta was already claimed.

Song Zhen pushed against his chest with all his might. “I don’t want to don’t touch me.”

“You don’t want to?” Fu Yuhang pinned Song Zhen’s hands above his head. His eyes narrowed, glinting with a dangerous, chilling light. “You won’t let me touch you? Then who are you saving yourself for?”

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