Distorted Fairy Tale - Chapter 29

“Song Zhen.”

The cold voice cut through the air behind him. Song Zhen spun round, meeting a pair of eyes as dark as obsidian.

In those habitually indifferent eyes, a suppressed, icy fury simmered.

Half of Fu Yuhang’s silhouette was swallowed by the shadows. As he stepped forward, the bioluminescent blue glow of the sea cast a frigid aura around him, making him look like a vengeful spirit from the underworld.

Song Zhen watched him, feeling a flicker of fear, yet he did not take a single step back.

“A day and a night,” Fu Yuhang said through gritted teeth, stopping less than a foot away. “Where have you been, disappearing for so long?” He glanced towards Bai Yichen, who was still splashing in the water nearby. “And who is he?”

Fu Yuhang’s voice had softened into the deceptive calm before a storm. Beneath the unruffled surface, a violent undercurrent surged.

Perhaps it was because he had already “died” once, but Song Zhen suddenly understood that both love and hatred were exhausting. Whether he was loving this man or hating him, he had been losing himself bit by bit.

The opposite of love isn’t hate; it’s indifference.

Song Zhen no longer wanted to hate Fu Yuhang. Hysterical screaming and desperate struggling were merely forms of self-persecution.

Before this beautiful, glowing sea, he had made a silent vow: he would love every day of his future. Even if no one else in the world loved him, he would love himself.

“Fu Yuhang, let’s talk.” Song Zhen’s tone was flat. His gaze seemed the same as before, yet entirely different.

Inside the car.

Fu Yuhang caught Old Chen’s eye in the rearview mirror.

“Mr Fu,” Old Chen said suddenly, “I’ve developed a sudden craving for a smoke. I’ll step out for a bit.”

The car was left to only Fu Yuhang and Song Zhen.

“What is the meaning of this?” The emotions Fu Yuhang had suppressed since the moment Song Zhen vanished finally erupted. “You ran out of the hospital in the middle of the night just to find that brat?” His voice was terrifyingly cold. “How old is he? Has he even grown up yet? What is your relationship?”

“What have you two been doing?” Fu Yuhang suddenly grabbed Song Zhen’s chin. “A whole group of people searched for you for a day and a night. I even went to that wretched rented room myself, and here you are, leisurely watching the sea with someone else?”

“Quite the romantic, aren’t you?” Fu Yuhang’s eyes grew incredibly dark.

“Fu Yuhang, you’re always like this.” Song Zhen looked at him without emotion—no anger, no resentment, no loathing. Only peace.

“Have you ever noticed that you always think the worst of me?” Song Zhen asked quietly. “Have you ever wondered why?”

“It’s because, in your heart, you look down on me. You look down on my gender, my background.” Song Zhen stared directly into his eyes. “What are you questioning me for? If I told you we were strangers, would you believe me? And if something was happening, what would you do?”

“Torture me for another three days and nights?” Song Zhen asked softly. Fu Yuhang’s eyes flickered almost imperceptibly, and his grip loosened.

This was the weapon Song Zhen held over him. That child had brought pain to Song Zhen, but it had also cast a monstrous shadow over Fu Yuhang’s conscience.

“Song Zhen, tell me what you want,” Fu Yuhang said. “I will compensate you.”

He hadn’t slept in twenty-four hours while searching for Song Zhen. His eyes were bloodshot, and dark circles shadowed his face. He looked exhausted.

Song Zhen looked at his weary face and suddenly understood. Fu Yuhang had offered “compensation” many times, and Song Zhen had always ignored it. This time, he spoke his wish:

“Let’s get a divorce,” Song Zhen said. “And don’t ever appear in front of me again.”

“That is the best compensation you can give me.”

“Zhou Nining and Ji Qinglin were worried about you,” Fu Yuhang said, pivoting to irrelevant topics as he had done before.

“Don’t you want to know what I was doing for the past day and night?” Song Zhen interrupted. “I was trying to kill myself.”

Fu Yuhang’s brow furrowed, his eyes filled with disbelief. “…What?”

“I didn’t want to live anymore. I wanted to die. I came here last night to jump into the sea,” Song Zhen said, as calmly as if he were stating that one plus one equals two. “That boy saved me. Do you have anything else to ask?”

“Let’s divorce,” Song Zhen repeated. “Fu Yuhang, do you really want to drive me to my death?”

Fu Yuhang’s face turned ashen.

From the moment Song Zhen admitted his suicidal intent, the Alpha’s icy, rigid composure cracked. For the first time, a look of utter bewilderment appeared on his cold face.

His mind was reeling. This Beta was saying…

He wanted to die.

He felt that staying with Fu Yuhang was equivalent to being unable to live.

He was handing his life over to Fu Yuhang to decide. If Fu Yuhang were cruel enough, Song Zhen would simply end it again. Between letting him go or becoming his murderer, Song Zhen had left him only two choices.

This Beta was using his own life to blackmail him.

Fu Yuhang stared at him for a long time before letting out a cold, sharp laugh. “Blackmailing me?”

“Song Zhen, I really did misjudge you.” Fu Yuhang’s eyes turned freezing. “It turns out you have a mind of your own.”

Song Zhen’s expression remained flat, unruffled by the Alpha’s words.

Fu Yuhang looked at him. Yes, a Beta. Just a Beta, the kind he loathed most from the slums. What was there to be attached to? If this Beta didn’t know what was good for him, why waste any more breath?

“Fine. Divorce! We’ll divorce!” Fu Yuhang resumed his arrogant posture, though his fists were clenched tight. “Threatening me with death? Whether you live or die has nothing to do with me. Did you really think you were important? Without the child, you are nothing.”

“I don’t need you anymore,” Fu Yuhang sneered, his eyes a brilliant, angry red. “I’ll have the divorce papers drawn up tonight.”

“Get out.” Fu Yuhang sat up straight and looked away, returning to his role as the unreachable, cold elite.

Song Zhen nodded. Before stepping out of the car, he said, “Make it quick.”

Bai Yichen had seen his bioluminescent sea and was happily taking photos. When Song Zhen returned, he asked, “Ge, who was that?”

“Oh, just an old flatmate,” Song Zhen said casually. “We bumped into each other and had a quick chat.”

“I see.”

Song Zhen looked at Bai Yichen’s photos and knew the boy had achieved his dream. “When do you leave?”

“I have to head to the station soon. My train is in the early hours.”

“Xiao Bai, thank you for saving me.” Song Zhen hugged him. “The sea was beautiful. I hope you reach every destination you’ve dreamt of.”

“All good things must come to an end. Take care of yourself, Ge,” Bai Yichen said. “I hope you can be happy. I’ll send you a postcard from every city.”

“I will.” Song Zhen smiled, the blue light making him look gentle. “Farewell.”

Song Zhen saw him off at the station, waving as the boy walked towards the gates. “Xiao Bai! Have a wonderful journey!”

“Ge! You be happy too!” Bai Yichen waved back, his eyes bright and clear. Song Zhen would never see eyes that beautiful again, but they would remain in his memory forever.

Fu Yuhang’s assistant was efficient. The divorce papers were ready by the next day. Song Zhen returned to the villa for what he intended to be the final time.

Fu Yuhang sat in the living room, dressed in a bespoke suit, every hair in place. He looked sharp, powerful, and utterly out of reach.

Song Zhen didn’t look at him when he entered; instead, he gave Lin Ze a small smile and a greeting. Even the butler poured him a cup of tea. Song Zhen thanked him politely.

Sitting across from Fu Yuhang, Song Zhen flipped through the papers. He paused at one page and turned to Lin Ze. “I don’t want the property, the cars, or the money. Is it possible to strike those out now?”

The atmosphere turned icy. Lin Ze looked at Fu Yuhang, whose face was incredibly dark. He nervously asked, “Mr Fu… should I change it?”

“Song Zhen, you are truly a fool,” Fu Yuhang said coldly.

Song Zhen finally looked at him, his expression blank. “If you say so.”

With his debts cleared and a bit of savings, Song Zhen had more than enough to live on. He hadn’t saved Song Heng for money, and he didn’t want anything from Fu Yuhang that felt like a payoff. No amount of money could replace the child he had lost. He wanted no further ties to this man.

The papers were amended. Song Zhen signed them decisively, saying goodbye to this place and this person forever.

On this day, Song Zhen threw away all his yesterdays, and from then on, his footsteps felt light.

Song Zhen rented a small flat in A City; he intended to stay and study. There were no proper educational facilities in the slums, so he enrolled in a preparatory course for the self-study exams.

His savings would last a while, but he knew he couldn’t live off them forever. He needed a job. However, without a degree, his options were limited to entry-level service roles.

He searched for two days without much luck. During one of his outings, he ran into Ji Qinglin, who introduced him to a job as a hotel waiter. The owner was a friend of Ji Qinglin’s, but no special treatment was given; the owner hired Song Zhen because he was presentable and worked efficiently.

The pay was five thousand a month during the probation period, rising to seven thousand after. Song Zhen was satisfied and invited Ji Qinglin over for a meal.

In his small flat, Song Zhen cooked a few stir-fried dishes. Ji Qinglin was full of praise. “Ge, your cooking is amazing!”

“I’m glad you like it,” Song Zhen smiled, pouring a beer for Ji Qinglin and one for himself.

Ji Qinglin raised an eyebrow. “Is this a celebration?”

Song Zhen raised his glass. “To starting my new life. How does that sound?”

Ji Qinglin laughed. “And to me working with a major director soon!”

“That’s wonderful.” Song Zhen’s eyes crinkled. “I’ll be sure to support you at the cinema.”

“Cheers!” “Cheers!”

As they drank and chatted, Ji Qinglin noticed that Song Zhen had become much more talkative. When Song Zhen mentioned wanting to go to university, Ji Qinglin gave him his full support. “Ge, you’ll definitely make it!”

“I’ll try my best,” Song Zhen smiled.

By the end of the night, Ji Qinglin was struggling to keep up, while Song Zhen remained perfectly sober. “Ge, I had no idea you could drink like this!”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Song Zhen laughed. “I used to work part-time in a bar. For every bottle I downed, the customers gave me double the tip. I got used to it.”

Ji Qinglin eventually fell asleep at the table. Song Zhen took a bottle of beer out to the balcony, sipping it slowly as the night breeze blew.

The moon was bright and the stars were out. Song Zhen thought of the times he had watched the stars with Song Heng. Those were the rare moments of warmth in his life, however brief they had been. He allowed himself to miss him, knowing the feeling would eventually drift away with the wind.

Downstairs, a black car remained parked in the shadows for a long time.

Only when Song Zhen noticed it and looked down did the car slowly pull away.

Under the bright moonlight, there was nowhere for longing to hide.

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