The "Honest" Beta Deceived Day and Night by a Twisted Obsessive - Chapter 12

 How Pitiful 

Duan Huaijing froze, his hand still clutching the scissors as he turned around.

His neck was slender, his back a smooth, pale expanse exposed so completely that he looked like a flawless, fragile work of art.

Coming back to his senses like a man waking from a nightmare, Duan Huaijing scrambled to bend over and gather the tattered scraps of clothing from the floor. 

He was very thin. When he bent down, his body tightened into a tense arc, the fluid lines of his back highlighting the sharp protrusion of his spine in a way that pulled at the heartstrings.

Oblivious to his own appearance, he used the fragments of fabric to shield himself, leaving only his small face peeking out. His expression was no longer dull or wooden; his eyes were like a pool of autumn water, their tranquility shattered by this intruder.

He looked like a fawn that had fallen into a trap because of its own greed, clutching its pitiful morsels of food while looking at the captor with guilty, pleading eyes, praying for a sliver of mercy.

Xie Yun stood outside the door for two seconds, adjusting his emotions, before stepping inside.

Duan Huaijing remained in his crouched position, backing away warily. “Big Brother…”

“Mhm.” A shadow of an unidentifiable emotion flashed through Xie Yun’s eyes. He acted with the utmost chivalry, peeling off his own suit jacket and draping it over Duan’s scantily clad body. Throughout the process, he pointedly averted his gaze, refusing to look at the source of Duan’s embarrassment.

Duan Huaijing kept his head down, feeling the unfamiliar warmth radiating from the jacket. His exposed, chilled skin shivered almost imperceptibly.

“It’s really not what you think. I was just. I was just.” Duan Huaijing’s eyes darted around, his words halting and clumsy. He couldn’t bring himself to speak the actual truth, and his ears turned so red in the sunlight that the tiny blood vessels were visible.

Xie Yun was taller, so from his vantage point, he could see Duan’s hair, mussed from his frantic struggle with the clothes and the two crimson tips of his ears.

Duan Huaijing didn’t dare look up at Xie Yun’s face.

Suddenly, a well-defined, powerful hand appeared in his field of vision. His heart sank with guilt; he ducked his head back like a puppy that knew it had done something wrong.

It’s over, he thought. He had done this in the Xie family’s ancestral home. He didn’t know if the Xie ancestors were rolling in their graves, but he could see the veins bulging on Xie Yun’s hand from the sheer effort of restraint.

Having been beaten since he was a child, Duan Huaijing waited for the blow to fall. When a second passed and nothing happened, his eyelashes trembled as he slowly cracked one eye open.

Xie Yun’s gaze was half-lidded, and he was still maintaining a respectful distance.

Duan Huaijing was puzzled. Then, he felt his fingers being gently, tentatively pried apart. He looked down and realized Xie Yun was trying to take the scissors away.

Duan Huaijing instinctively gripped them tighter.

A Beta’s physical strength was no match for an Alpha’s. Duan Huaijing knew that if Xie Yun wanted to take the scissors by force, he would be powerless to stop him, yet he still refused to let go.

For some reason, Xie Yun suddenly released the pressure. Like an elder comforting a child, he patted the back of Duan’s hand, let out a soft sigh, and whispered in a coaxing tone: “Let go.”

Duan Huaijing held on for dear life. “I won’t. If I give them to you, you’ll start hitting me.”

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could think.

Xie Yun looked at him with a complex expression. “I won’t hit you, and I won’t scold you.”

Sensing Duan Huaijing’s momentary hesitation, Xie Yun seized the chance to pull the scissors away. “I’m just afraid you’ll hurt yourself.”

Xie Yun didn’t notice Duan’s reaction to those words. He turned and placed the scissors in a safe spot, blades pointing inward. Since Duan was wearing so little, he’d easily be stabbed if he accidentally bumped into them.

Feeling his hand suddenly empty, Duan Huaijing’s eyelashes fluttered slightly. “Oh.”

So that’s why.

****

Meanwhile, Xie Ming was waiting to pay for the clothes Tong Mian was buying when several messages popped up on his phone. He clicked on them irritably.

There weren’t many photos, but the subjects were clear. The two men were captured in a posture so intimate it seemed as though no one else could ever intrude.

The door was wide open, yet that didn’t make their behavior seem innocent; instead, it lent the scene a sense of moral taboo, as if a forbidden act was being exposed to the world.

One was his fiancé. The other was his own brother.

Xie Yun was usually a germaphobe; he would never wear clothes that had been touched by others without having them cleaned first. Xie Ming used to mock his brother for this “eccentricity.”

But now, in these photos, a man was resting his leg on his brother’s lap. His brother was leaning over, carefully applying medicine. His fiancé was flinching from the pain, yet secretly stealing glances at the man in front of him.

The cigarette in Xie Ming’s hand burned down, the ash falling onto his skin. The sting snapped him back to reality.

“When was this taken?” he typed back.

The reply came: “This morning, when you sent me to the old estate to pick up those items. I saw it as I was passing by.”

Xie Ming’s face darkened until it looked like ink. He gritted his teeth and replied: “Understood.”

He gripped his phone so hard his palms turned red, a raging fire burning in his chest with nowhere to go.

The more he thought about it, the more furious he became. Duan Huaijing was his fiancé; how dare he hook up with his brother? No matter how much Xie Ming went out to see Tong Mian, he had never denied his relationship with Duan. In the end, he was still going to marry the man.

Is Duan Huaijing so thirsty that he can’t live without a man?

Xie Ming could choose to ignore Duan Huaijing, but Duan Huaijing wasn’t allowed to ignore him. He didn’t like it when his belongings started pining for someone else.

Xie Ming was so immersed in his own world, his phone digging painfully into his palm, that he didn’t even notice Tong Mian approaching.

“Brother Xie Ming? What’s wrong? You look so pale.” Tong Mian thoughtfully stood on his tiptoes to check Xie Ming’s temperature with his hand.

Xie Ming brushed the hand away perfunctorily and suddenly asked, “Is there anything fun to do nearby?”

Tong Mian had been upset about being brushed off, but his face immediately brightened into a smile. “Yes! I heard a new haunted house opened on Nanyang Street.”

The expression on Xie Ming’s face shifted unpredictably as he stared into space. A plan was forming. “I’ll take you there tomorrow,” he said.

“That’s wonderful! I’ve been looking forward to it since they started building it. I’m so happy I finally get to go with you. You’re the best, Brother Xie Ming,” Tong Mian chirped, leaning into his arms.

Xie Ming didn’t say a word. He took out his phone and sent two separate messages.

To his brother: Big Brother, I have something to discuss with you at Nanyang Street tomorrow.

To the “Waste”: Nanyang Street haunted house tomorrow, 9:00 AM. Don’t make me wait.

****

When Duan Huaijing received the message, he was still hiding under his covers, unwilling to leave his room. The maid had to bring his meals up to him.

Every time he thought the incident had finally passed, the sight of a certain object—like the scissors or a scrap of fabric would trigger an uncontrollable memory of everything that had happened.

He was aimlessly scrolling through his phone to distract himself when Xie Ming’s message arrived. He frowned, unable to figure out what trick the man was trying to play now.

Xie Ming had never taken him out before; he’d always considered Duan too “low-class” to be seen with. Why the sudden change of heart?

He didn’t believe for a second that he possessed some magical charm that had suddenly changed Xie Ming’s mind.

He initially wanted to refuse, but as his finger hovered over the chat box, he heard steady footsteps from downstairs. Xie Yun was heading out.

He let out a silent wail of misery. His heart was a tangled mess of embarrassment, resentment toward “The Eyes” for the command, and frustration that Xie Yun had come home so early.

His thoughts were like a piece of fried dough twisted, tangled, and impossible to straighten out. Eventually, his resentment turned into a desire to escape.

He thought that as long as he stayed inside, things would blow over in a few days. But that was impossible. He was living in the old estate; they were bound to run into each other eventually. And every time they met, both of them would remember that afternoon, the scene of him hiding in his room in “special” clothes, caught by his fiancé’s brother.

When Duan Huaijing got anxious, he tended to bite his nails. He was currently gnawing on his already short nails while the other hand typed out a “Fine.”

He thought to himself: I’ll just hide for two more days. In two days, everyone will have forgotten.

After that, he would still be Xie Ming’s fiancé, and Xie Yun would still be the Big Brother.

Everything would go back to normal.

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