Distorted Fairy Tale - Chapter 31

“Argh!” The Alpha’s arm was twisted behind his back with a sharp, expert wrench from Fu Yuhang. His face contorted in agony. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Let go! Just let me go!”

His earlier bravado had been nothing but a bluff. Now, faced with Fu Yuhang’s lethal aura, he crumbled instantly, terrified that the man might actually cripple him.

Fu Yuhang, repulsed by the Alpha’s pathetic whimpering, shoved him to the floor. Suppressing the urge to break both the man’s hands, he delivered a cold kick to his side. “Get out,” he hissed.

The Alpha scrambled away without looking back.

Fu Yuhang reached out to help Song Zhen up, but Song Zhen ignored his hand, pulling himself up by the edge of the table.

In the month since their divorce, they hadn’t seen each other once. This sudden encounter brought an immediate, suffocating awkwardness.

Fu Yuhang stared at him. Song Zhen was wearing a sky-blue jacket today; his small, delicate face was flushed with a healthy glow, and his soft fringe made him look remarkably young.

He looked beautiful, pure and far too likely to attract predators.

In Fu Yuhang’s memory, Song Zhen rarely wore such bright colours. What was he doing in a bar dressed like that? Moreover, the jacket looked dangerously thin. With the recent drop in temperature, he was practically courting a fever.

“Who are you with?” Fu Yuhang asked, his face darkening.

Song Zhen could have easily said Ji Qinglin, but he loathed the man’s interrogative tone. Who was he to question him?

“None of your business,” Song Zhen replied.

Fu Yuhang’s expression soured further. He thought to himself that if he hadn’t happened to be at the bar, Song Zhen would have been preyed upon. “Leaving you alone in a place like this… whoever you’re with is useless,” he snapped.

“Don’t you know how dangerous these places are? What were you thinking, dressing like that?”

“If I hadn’t shown up, what then? Someone of your size would have been carried off like a prize!”

Song Zhen’s brow deepened with every sentence. What did he mean, “dressing like that”? He had intended to ignore the man, but the rising irritation finally boiled over.

“Fu Yuhang, you are incredibly loud!”

His chest heaved with anger. He turned his head away, refusing to acknowledge the Alpha any further.

Fu Yuhang didn’t leave. As if he had booked the booth himself, he sat down beside Song Zhen with infuriating naturalness.

Song Zhen tried to push him away. “What are you doing? Go back to your own table!”

No matter how hard he pushed, Fu Yuhang remained as immovable as a mountain.

“You’re unreasonable!” Song Zhen fumed.

“And you’re wasting your strength,” Fu Yuhang commented drily.

“You’re insane!”

“Calm down,” Fu Yuhang replied coldly. He was determined to see exactly who had brought Song Zhen out and left him vulnerable.

Unable to shift the man, Song Zhen messaged Ji Qinglin, asking why he was taking so long. Just as he sent it, Ji Qinglin returned—though his lip was split, and his expression was grim.

He wasn’t alone.

Zhou Nining arrived at the bar entrance shortly after. Curiously, everyone seemed to have invited him tonight both Fu Yuhang and Ji Xiuyuan had reached out. Naturally, he chose Song Zhen and Ji Qinglin. Who wanted to deal with those two sticks of wood? They could have a staring contest for all he cared.

He had planned to hire a few male models for Song Zhen tonight to show him the brighter side of life, but as he reached Booth K13, his world collapsed.

Fu Yuhang and Song Zhen sat on the left, the atmosphere between them bizarre and tense. Ji Xiuyuan and Ji Qinglin sat on the right, the air around them suffocating.

“Good grief! What kind of gathering is this?” Zhou Nining stood frozen, his jaw hanging open. Was that middle seat left for him?!

The club was alive with music and flashing lights, the dance floor a sea of bodies moving like colourful snakes. Yet Booth K13 was a pocket of frozen tension.

Song Zhen sipped his drink steadily, treating Fu Yuhang as if he were made of air. Fu Yuhang watched him intently, and when Song Zhen reached for his third glass, the Alpha caught his wrist. “Stop drinking.”

“Don’t touch me,” Song Zhen snapped, wrenching his arm free.

On the other side, Ji Qinglin downed glass after glass of hard liquor. When the bottle was empty, he bypassed the glasses entirely, opening a new one and drinking straight from the neck.

Finally reaching his limit, Ji Xiuyuan snatched the bottle away. “That’s enough,” he said, his voice low.

“By what right do you tell me what to do?” Ji Qinglin’s eyes were bloodshot. He snatched the bottle back and finished it in one go.

Ji Xiuyuan’s face was like thunder.

With a heavy thud, Ji Qinglin set the empty bottle on the table. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at Song Zhen. “Ge, let’s go.”

“Alright.” Song Zhen stood up immediately.

Fu Yuhang suddenly stood and draped his own jacket over Song Zhen’s shoulders. The bar was in a long alleyway; the walk to the main road was significant, and the night air in A City was biting. There had even been news recently of a drunkard freezing to death on the street.

Song Zhen looked at Fu Yuhang, then threw the jacket back at him. “It stinks. Wear it yourself.” Then, he walked away without a backward glance.

“Hey! Wait for me!” Zhou Nining scrambled to follow.

Left alone at the booth, Fu Yuhang poured a drink for Ji Xiuyuan and took the glass Song Zhen hadn’t finished. “We’re already here. Drink.”

Then, he surreptitiously sniffed his jacket. It smells perfectly fine.

By the time the trio reached the main road, it had started to rain. The ride-hailing app showed a long queue. Song Zhen shivered as the cold wind bit through his thin layers.

A black sedan pulled up, and Old Chen poked his head out. “Mr Song, Mr Fu asked me to take you all home.”

Song Zhen pursed his lips, reluctant to accept any favour from the man.

“Mr Song, the rain is about to get much worse,” Old Chen urged. “I’m just an employee. If I don’t follow orders, my pay will be docked.”

Zhou Nining let out a violent sneeze, shivering in clothes even thinner than Song Zhen’s.

Song Zhen sighed. “Thank you, then.”

Old Chen drove steadily, and they soon arrived at Song Zhen’s flat. Fearing Ji Qinglin was in no state to be alone, Song Zhen invited him to stay. Zhou Nining insisted on staying as well.

“Let’s just get some more drinks from the shop downstairs,” Song Zhen smiled. “We’ll keep going.”

They sat on the rug around the coffee table. At first, Ji Qinglin said nothing, just drinking. Song Zhen didn’t push him, simply offering silent company. Zhou Nining, who boasted of his legendary tolerance, was the first to succumb, eventually crawling onto the sofa to pass out.

Song Zhen covered him with a blanket.

As they continued, Ji Qinglin’s eyes filled with tears. “The first time I saw him was in high school…”

That night, Song Zhen learned the truth of the twisted relationship between the two men.

In high school, Ji Qinglin’s surname wasn’t Ji; he took his mother’s name, He. His family was poor, and though his grades earned him a scholarship at the top secondary school, he worked at a convenience store to cover his living costs.

One afternoon, he had intervened to save an Omega being bullied. The father of one of the bullies was on the school board. Because it happened in a blind alley without CCTV, and the Omega terrified changed their story to call it “playing around,” Ji Qinglin was labelled an unprovoked brawler.

Just as he was about to be expelled, the Student Council President, Ji Xiuyuan, stepped in. He claimed he had witnessed the event and had recorded a video.

Ji Qinglin had thought him a saviour, until Ji Xiuyuan looked at him and said, “With an IQ like yours, you shouldn’t try to play the hero.”

That was their first meeting. Ji Qinglin’s impression of him was that he was “only half a good person.” But he couldn’t help watching him. Ji Xiuyuan was a monster—always first or second in the year, rivalled only by a student named Fu. He was an elite in everything—basketball, debate, calligraphy. His list of honours was so long it barely fit on the noticeboard.

Their second meeting was in the Ji family living room.

Ji Qinglin had always known he was an illegitimate child, but his mother never spoke of his father. One day, she told him his father was a wealthy businessman whose wife had died and who now wanted to take them in.

Seeing Ji Xiuyuan in the living room was a shock. Ji Xiuyuan’s gaze was immediate, cold, and filled with loathing. Later, Ji Qinglin learned that Ji Xiuyuan’s mother had literally been driven to her death by the discovery of his existence.

On the day Ji Qinglin turned seventeen, the elder Mr Ji died of a heart attack in the arms of a mistress. Ji Xiuyuan took over the family. Ji Qinglin had expected to be thrown out, but Ji Xiuyuan seemed to forget they existed.

At eighteen, Ji Qinglin found himself tied to a bed. Ji Xiuyuan had smiled and said, “I’ve learned something interesting, ‘brother’. Want to hear it?”

“You don’t have a drop of Ji blood in you,” Ji Xiuyuan had whispered, gripping his chin. “Your real father was my father’s driver.”

“Your shameless mother fooled everyone. She stole my late mother’s jewellery box and eloped with that driver. Now, little brother. what should we do about that debt?”

“No. stop it!”

That was the start of their twisted bond. Ji Qinglin had never been willing, until his grandmother fell gravely ill. He had climbed into Ji Xiuyuan’s bed of his own accord to pay for her care.

He could never hold his head up before Ji Xiuyuan again. The jewellery in that box was worth eight figures. He entered the entertainment industry solely to pay back that debt and be free of him.

“I thought I’d be happy that he’s getting engaged.” Ji Qinglin pointed to his chest, looking at Song Zhen with a lost, childlike confusion. “But Ge.  why does it hurt so much?”

His face was flushed with alcohol, his eyes watery. He looked like a child asking why the sky was blue.

Song Zhen looked at him softly. “Because you are grieving.”

“Grieving?” Ji Qinglin laughed. “But I’m happy! I’m finally free!”

As he laughed, the tears fell salty and bitter.

Song Zhen hugged him. “Don’t think about it anymore, Xiao Ji. Just sleep. Tomorrow morning, I’ll make your favourite braised meatballs, alright?”

Ji Qinglin stayed for several days. He bought so many things for Mianmian that Song Zhen joked the puppy loved Ji Qinglin more than him. But even when Ji Qinglin laughed, the joy never reached his eyes, which remained clouded by a faint, lingering melancholy.

Fu Yuhang found it baffling. If science claimed it took twenty-one days to form a habit, why was he still unable to sleep properly after two months without Song Zhen in his arms?

The lack of sleep was affecting his work. Tonight, the insomnia returned with a vengeance. Unable to rest, he went to his study to burn incense and copy sutras.

He was doing it for the child an act of atonement and a prayer for their soul.

He counted the stacks; he had finished fifteen volumes. A monk at a temple had once told him to copy twenty-one. At 2 a.m., he finished the sixteenth, closed his eyes, and whispered, “Namo Amitabha.”

Exhausted, he finally fell into a deep sleep.

The next day was Ji Xiuyuan’s engagement party. Fu Yuhang arrived to find his friend dressed in a black suit, his face set in a grim mask.

“Do you know what you look like?” Fu Yuhang asked.

“What?”

“You don’t look like you’re at an engagement,” Fu Yuhang remarked. “You look like you’re attending a funeral.”

“Laugh all you like,” Ji Xiuyuan patted his shoulder. “When it’s your turn, you won’t be smiling either.”

But Fu Yuhang stopped smiling almost immediately.

In the corner of the ballroom, he saw Song Zhen chatting and laughing with another Beta.

Song Zhen was only there to help with the numbers. The hotel was owned by his boss, and they were short-staffed for such a high-profile event. When he saw Ji Xiuyuan, he finally realised who the “mysterious VIP” was.

Before the ceremony began, Song Zhen shared a laugh with a colleague named Xiao Wang, who was quite humorous. When Xiao Wang was called away, Song Zhen turned and locked eyes with Fu Yuhang.

How unfortunate.

He treated the man like air and turned to walk away. Fu Yuhang blocked his path. Song Zhen looked up and gave a professional, hollow smile. “Sir, is there something I can help you with?”

Fu Yuhang stared at the smile, then said, “Don’t move.”

Click.

Fu Yuhang looked at the photo he had just taken of Song Zhen’s smile. He was satisfied. Close-up shots were far better than anything a long-range lens could capture.

“Fine,” Fu Yuhang tucked his phone away. “Carry on.”

Song Zhen: Did he just take a photo of me?

As the party began, Song Zhen moved efficiently through the guests. In the centre of the room, Ji Xiuyuan was surrounded by well-wishers, though not a trace of joy touched his face. Beside him stood a beautiful Omega who looked just as bored, yawning as if she couldn’t wait to go home and sleep. They looked like strangers.

It was tragic. Song Zhen wondered if these people truly felt they had to link every emotion to profit. Could you really spend your life with a stranger? Could you really watch the person you love break while you stand there?

The ceremony began. The host gave a brief introduction and offered blessings. Ji Xiuyuan and his fiancée stood on the stage.

No one noticed the door to the ballroom creak open.

The rings were brought out. Ji Xiuyuan placed a ring on the Omega’s finger, and she did the same for him. The room erupted in applause.

“Good!” a clear voice rang out, drawing every eye.

“Excellent!” More clapping followed.

Ji Qinglin stood at the back of the room, shouting, “Brother! You look truly handsome today!”

It was the first time he had ever called him that. In the past, he felt he didn’t have the right. Later, knowing they weren’t blood-related, he refused to use the term. Ji Xiuyuan would try to force him to say it in bed, but Ji Qinglin would rather endure anything than give him that.

He felt guilty. To call him “Brother” while loving him… he felt guilty.

Before the entire assembly, Ji Qinglin finally gave him the title he had always wanted. Most didn’t know the truth of their background and assumed it was a touching display of brotherly love.

The host announced it was time for the kiss. The crowd cheered.

Amidst the noise, Ji Xiuyuan stared at Ji Qinglin. The world felt muted, as if he were underwater. His eyes grew red.

He saw that Ji Qinglin was crying.

The Omega beside him whispered, “Ji Xiuyuan! Ji Xiuyuan!” She wanted to finish the farce and go home. She leaned in and kissed him herself.

Ji Qinglin looked at him, smiled, and mouthed the word: Congratulations.

Then he turned and walked away.

Ji Xiuyuan’s foot moved instinctively to follow, but his body remained frozen. Two forces clashed within him. One screamed: Go after him! The other, colder and more rational, whispered: Ji Xiuyuan, your name is Ji.

In the end, logic won. He felt as though a part of his soul had been hollowed out.

Song Zhen ran out to follow Ji Qinglin but was caught by the wrist. “Let him be alone for a while,” Fu Yuhang said.

“Some emotions have to be processed alone,” Fu Yuhang continued.

Song Zhen leaned against the corridor wall, his strength leaving him. “Why be so cruel to him?”

“Because he has enjoyed a life of luxury and top-tier resources,” Fu Yuhang said, looking down at him. “He has been spared the hardships most people face because of his family’s protection.”

“Everything has a price, Song Zhen.” Fu Yuhang’s gaze was heavy. “Not everyone can afford to be themselves like Zhou Nining.”

“And you? Fu Yuhang. Are you the same?” Song Zhen looked up at him. “Is this what you intended for me, too?”

“Is it?”

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