Distorted Fairy Tale - Chapter 38

Zhou Nining struggled with how to begin, eventually deciding that a gradual approach was best.

“First of all, Fu Yuchen has entered the Fu Group,” Zhou Nining said, watching Fu Yuhang’s reaction closely. “He’s been appointed Vice President, effectively taking over your duties for the time being.”

“I see,” Fu Yuhang replied flatly. He didn’t need Zhou Nining to tell him that much. “Go on.”

“The second thing.” Zhou Nining pursed his lips, clearly finding the next part difficult. After a long silence, he continued, “Old Chen has been secretly sent abroad.”

Fu Yuhang froze, a momentary look of bewilderment crossing his face. They both knew exactly what it meant when those closest to you were suddenly vanished overseas.

It explained why his itinerary had been leaked so easily, why that van had appeared at the perfect moment, and why his investigation into Fu Zhiyuan’s affairs abroad had gone suspiciously smoothly.

Fu Yuhang felt a strange pang of regret. He knew Old Chen had a sick daughter; he had recently sourced a new specialist drug from abroad for her, but he hadn’t had the chance to give it to him yet. Perhaps he never would.

“His daughter. was she sent away with him?” Fu Yuhang asked a question Zhou Nining hadn’t expected.

Zhou Nining had assumed Fu Yuhang would feel shock, then rage, then sorrow. But the Alpha had accepted the betrayal with a chilling speed, asking instead about the man’s weakness.

“They left together,” Zhou Nining replied. He couldn’t help asking, “Aren’t you upset?”

“His daughter’s health was poor,” Fu Yuhang said, his answer tangential but clear.

Zhou Nining understood. Because of the daughter, Old Chen’s pressure point was too easily found and exploited. Between a daughter’s life and an employer, the choice was obvious. If Fu Yuhang’s child were still alive, he would have done anything for them, too.

“What else happened?” Fu Yuhang asked.

Zhou Nining’s silence stretched on. It was then that Ji Xiuyuan walked in. He looked gaunt, paler than the man in the hospital bed, with heavy shadows beneath his eyes.

Seeing Zhou Nining’s struggle, Ji Xiuyuan decided to cut to the chase. “He’ll find out sooner or later,” he said. Zhou Nining swallowed hard before finally speaking.

“Qin Heng proposed to Zhenzhen the day before yesterday.”

A crack appeared in Fu Yuhang’s cold composure. He stared at Zhou Nining in disbelief, his voice low and dangerous. “He… what?”

“And he accepted?” Fu Yuhang’s brow was drawn tight.

“…Yes,” Zhou Nining nodded reluctantly.

Before Fu Yuhang could speak, his phone rang. His expression, which had been relatively calm, suddenly turned terrifying. A dark, suffocating aura radiated from him. After a moment, he began to laugh.

It was a sound that made the hair on Zhou Nining’s arms stand on end.

After work, Song Zhen chose to walk home instead of taking the tube. His mind was a mess, and he needed the solitude to think.

Qin Heng’s proposal three days ago had caught him completely off guard. It had been Qin Heng’s birthday, and with all his friends watching, Song Zhen hadn’t wanted to humiliate him. In a moment of heat, he had said yes.

Now that he had cooled down, it felt too fast. Despite a pleasant two months together, marriage felt premature. Qin Heng was kind, but something about him felt… off. He never asked about Song Zhen’s past—not a single question about his family, his upbringing, or his history. It was as if he already knew everything.

Song Zhen wondered if he was overthinking things; Qin Heng was impulsive by nature, after all. He decided he would ask to delay the wedding.

As he neared home, he felt a gaze fixed on his back. He turned around, but the street was empty. He chided himself for being paranoid.

The alley leading to Anfu Estate was long and poorly lit. The streetlamp, long overdue for repair, hummed with a failing current before finally flickering out, plunging the path into darkness.

Song Zhen reached for his phone to use the torch. As the screen lit up, he saw the reflection of two hands reaching for his head. He gasped and turned, but a cloth was immediately pressed over his mouth and nose. He struggled like a dying fish, but his vision quickly swam, and he collapsed into total darkness.

When he woke, he found himself in a painfully familiar room. He had lived here for six months; it was the home he had shared with Song Heng.

Am I back in the slums?

But the room felt wrong. There was a subtle, haunting quality to it. Song Zhen propped himself up and saw a tall figure standing by the window. At the sound of movement, the figure turned. Song Zhen met a pair of dark, bottomless eyes.

“You’re awake.”

“Fu Yuhang?!” Song Zhen gasped. “You’re”

Fu Yuhang walked towards him. The room was dark, the only light provided by a moon that carved the Alpha’s face into jagged halves of light and shadow.

“Surprised? Did you think I’d never wake up?” He sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Song Zhen’s cheek. His touch was light, but his voice was freezing. “You probably wished I were dead.”

Song Zhen shivered at the look in his eyes a black fog more opaque than the night.

“If I were dead, you could fly away with Qin Heng,” Fu Yuhang hissed. “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me? Why did you end up in someone else’s bed instead?”

“What? What do you mean ‘someone else’s bed’?” Song Zhen was bewildered. He had never slept with Qin Heng. Despite the man’s hints, Song Zhen’s trauma and traditional views meant he wanted to wait for marriage.

Fu Yuhang let out a cold snort and threw an envelope at Song Zhen’s face. It struck him with a sharp sting. “I paid ten thousand a piece for these. You should have a good look.”

The photos scattered across the duvet. There were six or seven of them. Song Zhen picked one up, and his lips began to tremble.

The person in the photo was naked, their skin flushed pink, their face a mask of blurred ecstasy. Beneath long, dark lashes, the person looked as though they were in the throes of a painful pleasure. Most horrifyingly, there were four Alphas in the shot only their hands were visible, stroking the person’s lips, stomach, and thighs.

The person in the photo was undeniably himself.

When was this taken? Why don’t I remember? Who did this?

Only one name came to mind: Qin Heng. He was the only one who could have had such access. A cold dread washed over Song Zhen.

But if this had really happened. how could I have no memory of it? These were staged. This was a setup.

“I never did this! Why.” Song Zhen’s hands shook as he gripped the photos. “Why would he take these?”

What was Qin Heng’s goal? Was it really just for money?

Suddenly, Fu Yuhang’s phone played a voice message. Qin Heng’s voice rang out, arrogant and mocking.

“Fu Yuhang, the Beta you took a fancy to really is something else in bed. My brothers and I were very satisfied.”

“You seemed to like him quite a bit, but now he’s going to marry me. Actually, I’m bored of him already. You can have him back.”

“Your taste is pathetic, Fu. I thought you’d picked someone special, but this Beta is just brain-dead.”

The messages were like slaps to Song Zhen’s face.

“You wouldn’t let me touch you because you preferred this?” Fu Yuhang’s voice was ghost-like. He pinned Song Zhen to the bed, gripping his throat, and delivered a sharp slap to his face. “Tell me, how cheap can you be?!”

The slap wasn’t hard, but the humiliation was absolute.

Song Zhen suddenly understood. It didn’t matter if he knew the photos were faked; what mattered was that Fu Yuhang believed them. Qin Heng hadn’t approached him out of love. He had approached him to destroy Fu Yuhang.

The truth of the charade was stripped bare. Song Zhen began to laugh a broken, bitter sound. Every “good thing” that had happened lately was nothing but a calculated malice.

Qin Heng had played him just to humiliate the Alpha.

Song Zhen stared at Fu Yuhang with bloodshot eyes, a surge of wordless resentment rising in his throat. He hated Qin Heng, but he hated the man pinning him down even more.

“Why?!” Song Zhen wailed, his voice breaking as he spiralled into collapse. “Why did I have to meet you?!”

If Fu Yuhang loathed him, he was harmed. If Fu Yuhang loved him, he was used and humiliated by others.

If only he had never saved him that night. He could have ended his life then. Or he could have lived a dull, ordinary life, alone but unscarred.

Anything would have been better than this. Anything would be better than being humiliated to this degree.

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