Raising the Top Alpha as a Beta - Chapter 4

Si Ye didn’t take the sudden appearance of the Little Cub to heart. He was just glad Si Qing was getting out more. If she stayed home all day burning incense and reciting scriptures, she’d eventually stop eating mortal food altogether.

A little toy to cure boredom. That was his blunt, simple definition of the cub.

When he ran into the Little Cub again, his attitude had softened slightly. He even gathered a few of his old clothes and left them in the small nest by the car shed.

As Si Ye did this, the Little Cub crouched in the nearby bushes, watching warily and refusing to approach. Si Ye simply grinned, flashing a row of stark white teeth. “What are you looking at? I’ll fatten you up and eat you!”

The Little Cub flinched violently and scrambled away, practically shitting his pants.

Si Ye was pleased with the cub’s tactful retreat. Watching the Little Alpha flee in terror actually gave him a strange sense of satisfaction.

Today, Jade Pavilion was hosting a youth fight. The arena was packed. Bored, empty-headed rich people craved this kind of thrill, wishing the fighters would use cold weapons and fight to the death, bone and blood exposed, for a truly satisfying spectacle.

When Si Ye arrived, he saw Curly circling the octagonal cage like a fighting cock, facing off against another Little Alpha.

Both kids had bloodshot eyes, glaring at each other. At an age when they should have been learning “At the beginning of life, human nature is good,” they had already understood the law of the jungle: survival of the fittest.

Curly couldn’t contain his impatience and took a feint forward. As expected, his opponent threw a punch. Curly retracted his fake move, dodged aside, and knocked the other boy to the ground with a side-on punch!

Si Ye leaned against the railing with his arms crossed, thinking, This kid’s pretty cunning.

Curly also saw him and, as if eager to show off his strength, relentlessly pursued his opponent. Youth fighting had no real technique; the other boy had lost the initiative, and most of his momentum vanished, leaving him with only the clumsy option of dodging. Curly’s eyes turned red with fury as he straddled his opponent and swung his fists, driving the cheers from the stands to a frenzy.

The Alpha boy pinned beneath him gasped for air, his chest heaving violently. After taking a few more futile punches, he somehow found the strength to kick his legs out, flipping Curly off him and clamping a hand around his throat!

“Choke him out!”

“Nice one!”

The roar from the stands surged like a wave. Curly’s face turned owner-red, clearly with no room to escape. Si Ye vaulted over the railing into the cage and kicked the Alpha away.

Curly struggled to catch his breath, almost instinctively scrambling up to grab Si Ye’s pant leg like a drowning man clutching at a straw.

Si Ye clicked his tongue and crouched down to meet the boy’s eyes. “Still trying to show off?”

Before Curly could respond, Si Ye continued, “Don’t corner a desperate enemy. If you don’t have the power to deliver a fatal blow, don’t keep chasing them and hitting them in the face. You’ve beaten them so badly they’ve forgotten they wanted to surrender.”

Si Ye had learned the hard way—fist by fist in the Octagon—when to win, when to lose, and how to lose with dignity.

He had painstakingly summarized this method, and now, as he passed it on, he felt like a grandmaster. Unfortunately, Curly’s vision was blurry, and he didn’t hear a single word.

Seeing the boy unresponsive for a long time, Si Ye’s patience ran out. He turned to leave just as his phone started ringing wildly in his pocket. This piece of junk was a hand-me-down from Si Qing, so laggy that it took forever for the caller’s name to appear on the screen: Zhang Dunhao.

For some reason, Si Ye’s brow twitched.

Sure enough, as soon as he answered, Dunzi’s booming voice roared through the line: “Yezi, get back here right now! Something’s happened!”

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