Distorted Fairy Tale - Chapter 8

When Song Zhen returned to the small, rented room he had shared with Song Heng, his entire body instantly relaxed.

Surrounded by everything familiar, he felt a profound sense of peace.

As it turned out, the place that made his heart feel at ease was his true home.

Feeling a bit hungry, Song Zhen boiled a bowl of noodles. After eating, he lay down on the bed and drifted off to sleep almost immediately. He slept so soundly that he failed to hear his phone vibrating incessantly on the bedside table.

It wasn’t until a violent pounding echoed from the front door that Song Zhen was jolted awake.

“Who is it?”

Rubbing his bleary eyes, he went to open the door. He froze at the sight of a dark, brooding Fu Yuting standing in the hallway.

“You…”

Before Song Zhen could finish his sentence, Fu Yuting cut him off, his voice exploding with rage. “What is the meaning of running off here without saying a single word!?”

Song Zhen flinched at the Alpha’s harsh tone. Being screamed at the second he woke up caused all the resentment he had managed to push down to resurface.

With reddened eyes, Song Zhen argued, “I sent a message to the butler!”

As luck would have it, the butler’s phone had been sent in for repairs that very day.

Fu Yuting’s tone didn’t soften in the slightest. “Then why didn’t you answer any of the calls I made to you!?” he asked chillingly. “Who are you trying to get an attitude with?”

Song Zhen bit his lip and turned his head away. “I was asleep. I didn’t hear it.”

“You were asleep?” Fu Yuting let out a cold, derisive laugh. “A dozen people spent the entire night searching for you, and here you were, sleeping soundly in this dump.”

Song Zhen couldn’t win an argument against him, so he pressed his lips together and remained silent, feeling a heavy, suffocating weight in his chest.

“Come back with me.” Fu Yuting grabbed Song Zhen’s wrist, intending to drag him away.

“I don’t want to go back right now!” Song Zhen struggled against his grip.

“What are you being difficult for now?” Fu Yuting said, his patience exhausted. “Who offended you this time? You’re well-fed, you have a roof over your head, and I gave you a card with no limit. What on earth are you throwing a tantrum for!?”

Song Zhen stared at Fu Yuting, a sudden wave of helplessness washing over him. The man standing before him had absolutely no understanding of what he truly needed.

“I don’t need that much money, and I don’t care about expensive food or clothes. That’s not what I want!” Song Zhen’s voice trembled as he glared at Fu Yuting. “The thing I want most is you. I just want us to be like we were before. Do you even understand that!?”

“Why is it that you can act like nothing happened? Why am I the only one holding onto our past? You said you’d love me forever—did you forget that, too?” Song Zhen’s lip quivered, and tears began to roll down his cheeks. “You vanished the moment you got your memories back. Was it because you didn’t want to face our marriage? Or me? You don’t like me at all. If I weren’t pregnant, you wouldn’t even have brought me to your house.”

“Do you think I only looked for you because of the money? It seems like everyone thinks that.” Song Zhen let out a mocking laugh, even as his tears fell faster. “But when we got married, you had nothing. I married you because I loved you, and I moved into your house because I loved you.”

“I might not be highly educated, but I still have my dignity,” Song Zhen choked out. “If you really look down on me that much, I don’t want a forced marriage either.”

“Fu Yuting, let’s get a divorce,” Song Zhen said, his eyes fixed on Fu Yuting’s with finality.

As Fu Yuting listened to this tearful outburst, his expression grew increasingly grim. The moment the word “divorce” left Song Zhen’s lips, the air around Fu Yuting dropped to a freezing point.

“Fine. A divorce it is.” Fu Yuting let out a mocking smile. “We’ll divorce as soon as the child is born.”

“Satisfied now?” Fu Yuting’s eyes were terrifyingly dark. “Can you come back with me now?”

Song Zhen pressed his lips together and said nothing. He told Fu Yuting he needed to change his clothes first, and Fu Yuting waited by the door.

It seemed he wasn’t even willing to step foot inside the small apartment.

Song Zhen changed right in front of him. He pulled off his cream-colored pajamas—the ones with a small cat print and hung them on the metal rack by the bed. Hanging right next to them was a matching set of black pajamas with a puppy print; those belonged to Song Heng.

As he stepped out of his pajama pants, his long, slender, pale legs were exposed. Fu Yuting watched him, his gaze deepening.

Just as Song Zhen finished dressing, a crack of thunder shook the sky.

Rumble—

The thunder brought with it a sudden, torrential downpour that quickly shrouded the entire city in a curtain of grey.

Fu Yuting’s phone rang. It was a warning that a severe rainstorm had hit City C and that it would be best to wait until the rain subsided before traveling.

Fu Yuting frowned at his phone, while Song Zhen looked out the window. He knew exactly what was bothering the Alpha. With rain this heavy, they wouldn’t be leaving today.

It was past 2:00 AM. Song Zhen’s peaceful sleep was interrupted by Fu Yuting finally deciding to come to bed.

Having no other choice, Fu Yuting grabbed the black puppy pajamas and headed into the bathroom.

By the time he emerged, Song Zhen’s breathing was steady; he had already fallen back asleep.

Fu Yuting pulled back the covers and climbed into the bed. The mattress was only five feet wide—not quite enough for two people to sleep comfortably without being pressed together.

As soon as Fu Yuting lay down, Song Zhen instinctively rolled over and huddled against him, his cheek pressing into the Alpha’s chest. He looked a bit silly with his face squished like that.

Fu Yuting followed the “doctor’s orders” and kissed Song Zhen for a long time. Thinking back to the way Song Zhen had looked when he said the word “divorce,” Fu Yuting’s kisses grew a bit more forceful.

Song Zhen woke up once as the sun began to rise. Finding himself in Fu Yuting’s arms in their old room, he felt a momentary sense of displacement. It felt as if the last few months had been nothing more than a bad dream.

In the dream, he had woken up, and Song Heng was still just Song Heng—his lover.

Song Zhen didn’t want to break the spell of the moment. He snuggled deeper into Fu Yuting’s embrace and closed his eyes again.

When he finally woke for good, the sun was high in the sky. He went to the bathroom to wash up and noticed his lips were unusually swollen. He assumed the mosquitoes in the slums must have mutated.

The storm was unprecedented, arriving with a roar and lingering for hours. Fu Yuting was forced to remain trapped in the very place that held the memories of his most vulnerable self.

Neither of them needed to speak about the memories tied to this room; they both knew them by heart. Every corner held a reminder of the passion and intimacy they had shared.

After all, the mere fact that Song Zhen was pregnant was proof of how far Fu Yuting had gone in those moments.

A Beta’s reproductive cavity is typically underdeveloped—small and deep. Most Alphas could never reach it, let alone get a Beta pregnant.

In the small, cramped room, an awkward and somewhat heavy atmosphere settled between them. Both were clearly remembering everything that had transpired within these walls.

The bitterness, the sweetness, the sadness, and the joy—it was all piled up in the small apartment like an overturned spice box.

“Do you want some noodles?” Song Zhen asked, finally breaking the silence.

A night had passed, and the worst of the anger had subsided. Fu Yuting gave a curt “Mm.”

The meal was simple: plain noodles with greens and a poached egg. It had been Song Heng’s favorite breakfast; he used to eat three bowls at a time.

When Fu Yuting finished his first bowl, Song Zhen said, “There’s more in the pot if you’re still hungry.”

Fu Yuting stared at him for a moment. As if trying to prove a point, he said, “I’m full.”

Song Zhen understood. He was trying to prove he wasn’t a glutton.

Song Zhen thought being able to eat was a blessing. He used to feel a deep sense of happiness just watching Song Heng devour his cooking.

“Oh,” Song Zhen said, continuing to slowly eat his own portion. He thought to himself that his Heng-heng was much cuter; Fu Yuting was just a pretender.

After breakfast, the rain finally showed signs of letting up. Song Zhen did a quick cleaning of the apartment and followed Fu Yuting back to City A.

They didn’t speak the entire way back.

Back in City A, Song Zhen resumed his livestreaming routine. He still baked every day, but he no longer thought about bringing any to Fu Yuting.

Song Zhen didn’t know how to describe his life with Fu Yuting. They had barely spoken before, but after his mention of divorce, their relationship had plummeted to sub-zero temperatures.

However, Fu Yuting still insisted on pinning him down and kissing him for a long time before bed every night. Every time, he would repeat the same line about “doctor’s orders.”

Song Zhen knew what he was doing. Fu Yuting was telling him not to get any ideas—that he was only doing this for the sake of the baby, to provide the necessary soothing pheromones.

Song Zhen wasn’t going to let himself get hopeful again. At first, he had clung to a sliver of expectation, but that had all but vanished.

The things he had wanted to know—the confusion he had felt for so long, the inability to let go—he had finally figured out on his own.

He understood now that there were no complicated secrets or hidden depths to the situation. The answer was simple:

For someone like Fu Yuting, being associated with a Beta from the slums was the greatest stain on his life.

Song Zhen’s livestreaming popularity was steadily growing. One reason was that a mid-sized influencer had followed his recipe to great success, leading many new viewers to his channel.

Another group of viewers used his stream as “sleep aid.” Song Zhen’s channel was quiet, and his soft voice provided the perfect white noise.

The real catalyst for his fame, however, occurred when his phone stand tipped over. As he reached to fix it, his face was accidentally revealed.

The chat went wild.

“Whoa, the streamer is actually this beautiful!? Why bother baking? You could make a living just with your face!”

“This face is a masterpiece. I’m calling him ‘Mommy’.”

“Is the streamer married? Does he have a partner? Interested in exchanging contact info?”

Song Zhen watched as phrases he found incredibly exaggerated flashed across the screen. People even started sending expensive virtual gifts.

By the time he ended the stream, he saw that he could withdraw 500 yuan.

Song Zhen had never thought of himself as particularly good-looking.

Growing up, he had always been isolated. He had no friends and certainly never received any compliments.

After dropping out of high school to work, he had been too busy and exhausted to even look at his own reflection. He simply thought of himself as average.

Since his face had been leaked and screenshots were being shared, Song Zhen decided to stop hiding. He let his entire upper body into the frame.

He hadn’t started this for the money, but he wasn’t a fool; he wasn’t going to turn it down.

As his popularity soared, the platform began promoting his stream to even more people.

The viewers were enthusiastic and their compliments were often over the top, which made Song Zhen shy. He would offer a faint, modest smile as a response.

Amidst the flood of praise, a user with the ID “Wang Xing” suddenly commented: Can you stop smiling? It looks terrible.

Wang Xing: Also, the stream was better when you didn’t show your face. Why did you suddenly start doing it?

With fame came haters. These two comments were clearly from a troll. Song Zhen bit his lip, feeling a bit upset. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to watch,” he said.

Then, he promptly kicked the user “Wang Xing” out of the room.

Support Distorted Fairy Tale