My Rich Parents Found Me Before My Great Escape - Chapter 1

“Whoo—!”

Deafening cheers scorched the tense, stagnant air. Waves of excitement erupted like a wildfire, instantly turning the underground arena into a cauldron of heat and frenzy.

At the very center of the arena stood a wide, tall platform. A towering, silver-white mecha stood triumphantly in the middle. Not far from it, a dull black mecha lay sprawled on the ground. Its once-fluid curves were gone, replaced by jagged gashes and structural failures—a total wreck.

The spectator stands surrounding the platform were packed to capacity. The moment the black mecha hit the dirt, thunderous applause broke out, each shout louder than the last.

The referee sat in a small hover-chair suspended in mid-air, his voice booming through the speakers: “The winner of this match is Number 76! Let’s congratulate Number 76 for achieving a ten-match winning streak and successfully advancing to the semifinals!”

The silver-white mecha gleamed under the spotlights. It raised an arm to wave at the crowd, and the roar of the audience reached a fever pitch. Those who had bet on its victory looked ecstatic, while the losers wore expressions of bitter regret, destined to go home empty-handed.

…

The underground arena consisted of a central combat zone and an outer living area. Today was the final match of the semifinals, and the heated discussions of the crowd spilled out into the streets. Pedants talked of their winnings, while others cursed their luck for nearly losing their life savings.

While the noise outside was incessant, a youth sat composed in a small shop in a quiet corner of the arena, reading a book. He acted as if the chaotic world outside didn’t exist.

A single small lamp on the counter provided the only light in the dim shop. The faint glow revealed a floor cluttered with tools and spare parts—it was so disorganized there was barely a place to step. The only clean spot was the counter near the door.

The youth wore a loose black tracksuit, lounging lazily in a grimy chair. The baggy clothes made his frame look thin and delicate. A matching black cap was pulled low, pressing down his messy hair, though a few rebellious strands—shining with a brilliant golden luster—managed to peek out. The cap hid his eyes, leaving only a glimpse of a high nose bridge and fair, delicate skin. Below that, a black mask covered the lower half of his face.

With his collar pulled high and sleeves long, the only part of him visible was the occasional glimpse of long, slender fingers turning a page.

Since the shop was tucked away in a corner, it was relatively quiet. When there were no customers, he could stay in this position and read all afternoon. But quiet moments are always fleeting.

Hearing footsteps approach, the youth kept his eyes on the book for a second before lazily looking up. His exquisite “peach-blossom” eyes narrowed slightly as he saw a familiar figure.

“Hi~”

The young man at the door was tall and wore a silver mask. Though his expression was hidden, his voice was warm and leisurely.

The youth glanced at him, then returned his gaze to his book. “Congratulations on the ten-match streak,” he said tonelessly.

The masked man shrugged and took two steps forward. “That attitude doesn’t exactly sound like a ‘congratulations.'”

Xie Guanning stood up and stretched his body, subtly pressing a hand against his lower back. He shot the man a sidelong glance. “What else do you want? It’s just the qualifiers. Do you expect me to throw you a parade?”

He held out his hand. The young man took the hint and tossed him a silver ring. Watching Xie Guanning turn to head into the back, the man complained, “Hey, don’t look down on the qualifiers, okay? Plenty of people didn’t even make it through. Besides, I haven’t lost a single match. Ten wins in a row—how many people in this underground circuit can pull that off?”

Xie Guanning walked toward the back, waving a hand dismissively behind him. “You’re a top student from the Imperial Military Academy. You’re really comparing yourself to amateurs?”

The young man curled his lip and followed. “Just wait until I win the championship. Let’s see what you say then.”

Passing through the back door, the space opened up significantly. Behind the shop was a vast, open area equipped with professional machinery, large enough to house several heavy mechas.

Xie Guanning casually tapped the ring, releasing the mecha. The silver-white exterior looked flashy, but up close, it was covered in scratches and dents. Clearly, the match hadn’t been as easy as the pilot made it seem.

Xie Guanning frowned. He walked a circle around the machine, immediately shifting into “work mode.”

The pilot, who was naturally talkative, wanted to keep chatting, but seeing Xie Guanning’s focus, he fell silent. He leaned against a wall, boredly picking at a hole in the plaster.

Most of the surface damage was easy to handle. However, a deep gash on the right arm had damaged a joint component, affecting the limb’s flexibility. That would be a hassle.

Xie Guanning crouched on the ground. Beneath his golden hair, his eyes were calm and sharp. His hands moved incessantly, disassembling and reassembling a pile of complex parts with startling speed.

Watching from the side, the pilot marveled at him. Seeing those slender, nimble fingers and the youth’s lean, flexible back, he couldn’t help but ask, “I’m seriously curious—how old are you, exactly?”

Xie Guanning spared him a brief glance. His golden bangs were soaked with sweat, and his voice sounded slightly breathless behind the mask. “How old do you think?”

The pilot pondered for a moment. “I think you’re younger than me.”

Xie Guanning gave a dry chuckle. He stood up and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. Droplets hit the floor, leaving dark spots on the concrete.

“I’m serious, you’re definitely younger,” the pilot said, looking him up and down. “Twenty? Are you even twenty?” He shook his head. “Probably not. You look too small.”

The kid was thin, his voice was clear and pleasant, and he looked like a minor.

Xie Guanning clicked his tongue in annoyance and looked back, the corners of his eyes tilting upward. “Who are you calling small?”

The pilot glanced at his hair. “I mean, look at you. You even dye your hair these flashy colors like a rebellious kid.”

Having his aesthetics questioned made Xie Guanning instantly grumpy. “How do you know it’s dyed? Maybe it’s my natural color.”

The pilot was silent for a moment before saying flatly, “Last time I saw you, your hair was white.”

Xie Guanning: “…”

“The time before that, it was blue.”

“And last month—”

Xie Guanning finished the final adjustment and retracted the mecha into the ring, tossing it back at him. “Shut up.”

The pilot beamed, sensing a small victory.

Xie Guanning went back into the shop and drained a cup of water in one go. Droplets slid down his throat, mixing with the sweat. He felt sticky and uncomfortable. He shot a look at the pilot. “If you’re done, get out. I’m closing early today.”

The pilot checked the time, surprised. “It’s only five o’clock. Why so early?”

“I have things to do,” Xie Guanning replied vaguely.

The pilot was curious but knew better than to pry. Once he left, Xie Guanning collapsed into his chair with a groan, rubbing his lower back.

Honestly… He thought his physical fitness was decent, but it had been two days and he still hadn’t fully recovered from that night. Crouching to fix the mecha just now had made his back scream in protest.

After resting for a bit, he opened his terminal. A notification popped up from “Mrs. Xie.” The text was cold:

“Don’t forget the Zhou family banquet tonight.”

Xie Guanning frowned. He wanted to close the app, but his finger slipped, clicking on a news headline instead.

The headline was eye-catching: “Marshal Jiang Reveals His Life Plans.”

Xie Guanning’s fingers froze. Within a second, the interview video began to play.

The man on the screen wore a dark military uniform. He was tall and imposing. When he looked at the camera, his eyes were cold, yet every movement screamed of perfect etiquette and elite breeding.

Xie Guanning felt a phantom sensation; his fingertips hovered over the screen, trembling slightly.

The reporter’s voice came from off-camera: “Marshal Jiang, do you have any plans to start a family? What are your requirements for a future partner?”

“I’m sorry,” the Alpha in the video said, his chin slightly lifted. His voice was calm, but his gaze carried an invisible pressure. “I have no intention of marrying, and I will not be having children.”

The video cut off there—a deliberate edit. The screen was instantly flooded with “bullet comments” of fans crying about their “husband” rejecting them.

Xie Guanning snorted and closed the video.

The Xie family lived in a villa district far from the city center. Mrs. Xie occupied a particularly luxurious and spacious mansion.

As Xie Guanning pushed open the front door, he heard the laughter of a mother and daughter.

He paused for a moment, then walked into the living room as if nothing were wrong.

A young girl was laughing, her arm hooked affectionately around the older woman’s. It was a picture of domestic bliss. But the moment she saw him, her smile vanished. She sat up straight, distancing herself from her mother.

Mrs. Xie noticed the change and turned around. Her expression was indifferent. “You’re here?”

Xie Guanning stood to the side. “Madam.”

The girl, Xie Jiaran, adopted a poised stance. Her beautiful eyes swept over him with disdain before she looked away and took a sip of her coffee with an air of superiority.

Mrs. Xie’s gaze flickered over his face, hiding a deep-seated revulsion. “The butler has prepared your clothes. You will attend the banquet with us tonight.”

“It’s a Zhou family banquet,” Xie Guanning asked. “Why do I need to go?”

Mrs. Xie took a sip of her coffee, her eyes filled with contempt. “It’s Young Master Zhou’s birthday. Mrs. Zhou invited his classmates.” She looked at him from her high horse. “It’s a rare opportunity. You should know what you can and cannot do. Don’t embarrass the Xie family.”

Xie Guanning nodded absentmindedly, but he caught the key detail:

Mrs. Zhou had specifically asked for him.

He knit his brows. He remembered his last encounter with that woman, it had been anything but pleasant.