Distorted Fairy Tale - "Don't Go!"

“Recently, Fu Yuhang, the young heir of the Fu Group in City A, made an appearance at a charity gala after a six-month absence, effectively putting an end to the rumors of his disappearance.”

On a sweltering afternoon, a dilapidated television in a small restaurant was broadcasting the midday news.

Song Zhen glanced at the screen subconsciously. The moment he saw the Alpha’s cold, chiseled face on the broadcast, the hand he was using to wipe the table froze in mid-air.

“Little Song, that man looks exactly like your husband!” the restaurant owner couldn’t help but exclaim.

Song Zhen stared blankly at the “young heir” on the screen. A storm of emotions surged in his eyes, and his vision quickly blurred as they turned a frantic shade of red. In those watery, almond-shaped eyes, it was hard to tell if shock was the dominant feeling or the overwhelming ecstasy of finding something he thought was lost forever.

Song Zhen dropped the rag, his lips trembling slightly. Ignoring the startled shout of the restaurant owner, he rushed out the door.

Returning home just long enough to pack a few essentials, Song Zhen bought a ticket for the very next train to City A. After searching for nearly a month, he finally had a lead. He couldn’t contain his excitement; his hands were shaking so violently as he packed that he could barely zip his bag.

One month ago, Song Zhen had come home from work just like any other day. He had even stopped to buy crab-roe soup dumplings—his husband’s favorite. Instead of a warm welcome, he was met with a house full of empty silence.

His husband, Song Heng, had vanished. It was as if he had evaporated into thin air; Song Zhen couldn’t find a single clue as to where he had gone.

Initially, Song Zhen wanted to report it to the police. But when he reached the station, he remembered that the name “Song Heng” was part of a forged identity. That person didn’t technically exist in the eyes of the law, so how could they possibly find him?

He had picked Song Heng up six months ago. Back then, the Alpha was in a bad way—his mind was muddled, and he remembered nothing. Song Zhen took him in. As they spent their days together, feelings began to bloom. Song Zhen had someone help him procure a fake ID card, and the two of them got married.

Their neighborhood sat on the border of City C and City A—a place commonly referred to as “the slums.” It was a lawless “no-man’s land” with a high turnover of transient residents. People in Song Heng’s situation weren’t uncommon there; as long as no one caused trouble at the police station, people generally looked the other way.

Song Zhen had lived alone for many years. Having someone by his side made life feel much less lonely. He had truly believed they would spend the rest of their lives that way.

But happiness was fleeting. Song Heng had disappeared without a word. For the past month, Song Zhen hadn’t been able to eat or sleep. He had asked everyone he knew for help, but it had all been in vain.

That face that had just flashed on the television—Song Zhen had caressed it countless times. After living together day and night for over half a year, he was certain: that was his husband.

When he arrived in City A, a light drizzle was falling from the sky. Song Zhen stood by the roadside, clutching his worn-out travel bag, feeling utterly lost. This was the first time in his life he had ever stepped foot outside the slums.

The slums were so underdeveloped that things like subways simply didn’t exist. Song Zhen hadn’t realized that if he had just turned right at the station, he could have taken Subway Line 2 directly to his destination.

A taxi pulled up in front of him. The driver asked, “Where to, kid?”

“Excuse me, how much is it to the Fu Group?” Song Zhen asked. After all, he knew that taking a taxi in the big city was very different from the slums, where six dollars could get you just about anywhere.

“The Fu Group? Not too bad. Just give me a hundred and twenty.”

“A hundred and twenty!?” Song Zhen’s eyes widened. That was far too expensive.

“No… no thank you,” Song Zhen said hurriedly. The driver muttered something under his breath and drove off with a look of annoyance.

After asking several passersby for directions, Song Zhen finally made it to a bus stop. He needed to take the 302 bus to the International Trade Building and then transfer to the 305 to reach Mingsheng Road, where the Fu Group was located.

The bus was packed. Song Zhen moved his backpack to his chest, hugging it tightly. It was officially summer, and the crowded space left him drenched in sweat, his face flushed a bright pink.

About an hour later, he reached the International Trade Building. As he stepped off the bus, his stomach gave a hungry growl. The rain had picked up, and he didn’t have an umbrella. Looking at the magnificent, gilded architecture of the trade center, Song Zhen lowered his gaze and walked past it.

He pulled a piece of bread from his bag and munched on it while walking through the drizzle toward the next bus stop. The bread was dry, so he pulled a water bottle from the side pocket of his bag and took a few gulps.

After waiting for ten minutes, the 305 bus arrived. This one was even more crowded than the last. Song Zhen didn’t even need to hold onto a handrail; the sheer pressure of the bodies around him kept him upright.

By the time he finally got off, he was covered in sweat, and the back of his shirt was soaked. It was late, but fortunately, the rain had stopped. The lingering glow of the sunset washed over the glass walls of the Fu Group headquarters, coating the entire building in a layer of orange-red light. The sharp, cold lines of the skyscraper cut through the darkening sky, looking as though they were slicing the world into two different dimensions.

Song Zhen walked toward the building. It was quitting time, and the revolving doors at the entrance were spinning constantly as people in business suits poured out. Song Zhen wanted to wait for the crowd to thin out before going in, but the doors never seemed to stop. He ended up standing awkwardly by the entrance.

Dressed in a pair of washed-out, faded jeans and a wrinkled white T-shirt, Song Zhen gripped his backpack straps nervously. Employees exiting the building couldn’t help but glance at him before quickly walking away.

Song Zhen had no way of knowing that a few weeks ago, a disgruntled employee who had been passed over for a promotion had come to the office with a bottle of acid, intending to launch a random attack. One employee’s face had been severely burned and was still in the hospital. Consequently, the security at Fu Group was currently on high alert for anyone suspicious.

Song Zhen had been standing there for ten minutes, which immediately drew the attention of the security guard.

“Who are you looking for?” the guard asked, his gaze full of suspicion.

“I’m looking for Song.” Song Zhen paused, trying to recall the name the news anchor had used. “I’m looking for Fu Yuhang,” he said, before adding, “your young heir.” He remembered that was how the host had referred to him.

The guard’s expression became even more guarded. Although the Beta in front of him was good-looking, he was dressed like a beggar and acted timidly. He didn’t look like someone who could possibly know their boss. It was highly suspicious.

Once most of the employees had left and the revolving door slowed down, Song Zhen stepped inside, with the guard following close behind. Since Song Zhen hadn’t done anything out of line and the lobby was technically open to the public, the guard didn’t stop him yet.

Song Zhen walked up to the front desk. The receptionist was a beautiful Omega. Song Zhen felt too shy to even meet her eyes, so he looked down and stuttered, “Hello. I wanted to ask. Which floor is your.  young heir on?”

The receptionist gave a professional smile. “Do you have an appointment, sir?”

An appointment? Did he really need an appointment to see his own husband?

“No,” Song Zhen said bitterly.

“I’m very sorry, but you cannot meet with President Fu without a prior appointment. You may schedule one and return another day.”

“Could you just tell him that Song Zhen is here?” Song Zhen’s grip on his backpack straps tightened until his knuckles turned white. “I’m his wife.”

The air went silent for several seconds.

The receptionist’s gaze turned complicated a mix of shock and thinly veiled disdain. However, her professional training kicked in, and she maintained her smile. “I see. I will pass along the message.”

The security guard standing nearby couldn’t hold back a scoff. He laughed mockingly. “Our boss would never marry a Beta! Sir, if you’re going to make up a story, at least make it believable!”

Song Zhen wasn’t the type of person to argue. He bit his lip hard, deciding not to fight back. He figured he would just find a cheap place to stay for the night and come back tomorrow. If he came earlier and waited outside, he was bound to see Fu Yuhang eventually.

Just as Song Zhen turned to leave, the elevator doors in the lobby slid open. A group of men in sharp suits stepped out.

He looked over and his eyes locked onto the dark, obsidian eyes of the man in the center.

Song Zhen’s feet felt like they were nailed to the floor. He couldn’t move an inch. In that moment, it felt as though time had stopped. The bustling crowd and the noise of the lobby faded into a blurry, slow-motion hum.

There were only a few meters between them, yet it felt like a vast, unbridgeable canyon. They had only been apart for a month, yet Song Zhen felt as though their nights spent watching the stars together belonged to a completely different lifetime.

“Heng-heng…” Song Zhen whispered, staring dotingly at the man. Subconsciously, he began to move toward him, his pace getting faster and faster.

The security guard, who had been keeping a close eye on him, saw Song Zhen charging toward President Fu with reckless abandon. Alarms went off in his head—he knew this guy was up to no good. He immediately moved to intercept him.

Despite his small, frail appearance, Song Zhen found a sudden surge of strength. He managed to break free from the guard’s grip and rushed forward, throwing his arms around the Alpha in a tight embrace.

“I finally found you,” Song Zhen choked out, his eyes swimming with tears. His voice was thick with a month’s worth of heartache, grievance, and sorrow, all mingled with a desperate sense of relief. “Heng-heng.”

The gesture was far too intimate. The Alpha looked down at the top of the Beta’s head, his brow furrowing in deep irritation.

“Let go,” the Alpha said, his voice cold as ice.

Song Zhen’s vision blurred further as tears spilled over. He only held on tighter, his emotions overflowing. “Heng-heng, it’s me. It’s your Big Brother. I’m here.”

“I’ve been looking for you for a month. Why did you leave so suddenly? I was so worried about you.” Song Zhen’s sobbing intensified, his tears soaking into the Alpha’s expensive suit jacket. “I saw you on TV and realized you were in City A. Have you been okay? You look so much thinner… have you not been eating well?”

“Heng-heng… I finally found you…” By this point, Song Zhen was inconsolable, his cries enough to break anyone’s heart.

A month of agonizing searching, of being tortured by loneliness every single night… to finally see the person he longed for was simply too much to handle. Song Zhen was so overwhelmed with joy that he didn’t notice the Alpha hadn’t said a word of comfort. He had even completely tuned out that cold command to “let go.”

The Alpha shifted his gaze from Song Zhen to the security guard behind him, his expression darkening. He parted his thin lips and said, “Do I pay you people to just stand around and eat?”

The guard snapped out of it and lunged forward, prying Song Zhen off the Alpha.

Song Zhen struggled frantically, his fingers desperately hooked into the Alpha’s sleeve. The Alpha watched him with chilling indifference, reaching down to peel Song Zhen’s fingers away, one by one.

Once free, the Alpha pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket. He frowned as he wiped his hand, looking as if he had just touched something filthy.

He turned to the guard and said in a frigid tone, “If you ever let someone like this in again, you don’t need to bother coming back to work.”

The guard nodded, trembling. “Yes, President Fu!” He then twisted Song Zhen’s arms behind his back and pinned him to the floor.

The pain caused cold sweat to break out on Song Zhen’s forehead.

The Alpha looked down at the pinned Beta with eyes full of contempt. “Don’t ever show your face in front of me again.”

Song Zhen let out a cry of pain. As he watched the Alpha’s tall, imposing figure walk away, he screamed through his tears:

“Don’t go! Please, don’t go!”