The "Honest" Beta Deceived Day and Night by a Twisted Obsessive - Chapter 13

You bite and kiss another man’s fiancé, yet you won’t let the fiancé touch him.

When Duan Huaijing arrived at the rendezvous point the next day, he never imagined that the person he most wanted to avoid would be standing right across the pedestrian crossing.

Xie Yun wore a black casual overcoat. His tall, lean figure exuded a natural sense of dominance. At that moment, he was looking down, speaking to Xie Ming, and hadn’t noticed Duan yet.

The light turned green. The crowd around him surged forward, a noisy blur of people chatting in various dialects. Someone bumped into Duan Huaijing, making him stumble a step forward.

The surroundings and noise seemed to fade away. His eyes remained locked on that one spot; Xie Yun was like a candle in the dark, illuminating everyone and everything near him in Duan’s eyes.

People flowed past. His small frame was hidden for now, but he knew it was only because of the crowd. Once the light changed, he would be exposed instantly.

A desperate urge to retreat seized him.

Before anyone could notice him, he began to shuffle backward against the flow of traffic.

The green light flickered only five seconds left.

Just as his heel was about to touch the greenery of the sidewalk, Xie Yun’s gaze suddenly swept toward him.

It was a seemingly casual glance, cold and devoid of emotion.

Duan Huaijing froze mid-step, his spine snapping straight. He felt an inexplicable surge of guilt. Even though it was a glance as light as a feather, he felt the uncomfortable sensation of being locked onto a target.

Sensing something was wrong with that gaze, he peeked up again, only to find that Xie Yun had already looked away and was busy typing on his phone.

But in that one second, someone else had spotted him.

“Duan Huaijing! What are you doing over there? Get over here!” Xie Ming shouted, head craned back.

The surrounding pedestrians followed Xie Ming’s gaze, looking on curiously as if waiting for some drama to unfold, wondering who this “Duan Huaijing” was.

Duan Huaijing closed his eyes in despair.

He was forced to endure the weight of those gazes. He had never been the center of attention growing up and hated it; to him, this felt no different than being stripped naked in the street and forced to recite shameful lines.

He kept his head down, comforting himself with the logic that if he couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see him.

Since he’d been spotted, running away now would only look like he was looking for trouble. Taking advantage of the fact that Xie Ming couldn’t hear him, he cursed the man under his breath as he walked over.

His approach was delicate, he was caught between Xie Ming and Xie Yun. He didn’t want to stand near Xie Ming, but standing next to Xie Yun would be even more awkward.

Pinching the hem of his shirt, he tried to move subtly toward Xie Ming, making it look natural.

Suddenly, he felt as if an icy viper had wrapped itself around his ankle. The sensation was so unsettling that he quickened his pace.

The gaze followed him like a shadow, slowly creeping up his skin to his slender neck. Duan Huaijing rubbed his neck with his palm, trying to shake off the weird feeling as he scanned his surroundings.

He saw nothing unusual.

Just as he thought he was overthinking it and straightened his head, his eyes met Xie Yun’s.

That one second seemed to stretch into eternity. Though he was looking at Xie Yun, his mind flashed back to the scene of being caught in those “special” clothes.

Duan Huaijing felt like he’d been caught red-handed again, feeling both irritable and insecure.

“Big Brother,” he greeted softly and politely.

Xie Yun’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Mhm,” he replied.

Their exchange was at a normal volume, the content and distance perfectly appropriate. No one could find fault with it.

Xie Ming was still busy acting lovey-dovey with Tong Mian, spouting nauseatingly sweet words without a care for anyone else.

Duan Huaijing and Xie Yun stood on the outer edges of the group of four, neither of them speaking.

Eventually, Xie Ming brought the conversation around to Duan Huaijing.

Duan found it bizarre. Given Xie Ming’s uncharacteristic behavior in inviting him out, he had no idea what the man was up to, so he kept his head down and remained cautious.

But Xie Ming was a chatterbox. Duan Huaijing wasn’t used to small talk; standing there, he looked like a shy, honest person being forced to socialize.

To an outsider, the three of them seemed occupied with each other, leaving Xie Yun isolated on the side.

Duan Huaijing stole a glance at Xie Yun under the guise of looking at something else.

Xie Ming noticed and asked, “Big Brother, what do you think about this?”

Xie Ming was much more respectful toward his brother than he was toward Duan, his tone bordering on fawning.

Xie Yun kept his eyes on the distance, his lids narrowing slightly. “You two talk.”

Xie Ming nodded and continued rambling to Duan Huaijing.

Duan Huaijing looked away, pretending to listen while his mind wandered.

Even though Xie Yun’s eyes looked as steady and calm as usual, Duan felt something was off.

As he replayed the scene in his head, he remembered the night he had drunkenly called out Xie Ming’s name in front of Xie Yun. That look in Xie Yun’s eyes then was beginning to merge with the one he saw now.

Xie Yun’s pupils were as black as ink. If you stared too long, they felt like a bottomless alleyway where no light could reach, cramped, cold and suffocating.

If he had to describe it, the emotion behind that gaze seemed to be… displeasure.

“Mhm, you’re so impressive,” Duan Huaijing said, his mind split in two as he humored Xie Ming’s bragging.

Suddenly, his phone dinged. Duan’s heart skipped a beat; he recognized that specific notification sound, the one he had set exclusively for “The Eyes.”

The timing was impeccable; it always came when it shouldn’t.

Panicked for a moment, he glanced at the people around him. Xie Yun was frowning at his phone, seemingly handling work; Tong Mian was shopping; Xie Ming was talking.

Duan Huaijing pulled out his phone, expertly dimming the screen to prevent Xie Ming from seeing, and opened the chat that sat pinned at the top like a cage.

The message was short it took only a second to read.

Say one more word to him and I’ll strangle you.

Duan Huaijing held the phone, feeling like a dreamer suddenly jolted awake, only to find himself back in that damp, dark basement, where a masked figure dangerously and affectionately stroked his face with icy fingers.

He took a step back, his blood running cold. He distanced himself from everyone. Xie Ming called his name twice, but he didn’t hear him.

He looked around neurotically, wanting to search every corner for someone suspicious. He was terrified that someone was hiding in a shadow he hadn’t noticed.

“The Eyes” felt like a pinhole camera that was everywhere. Duan was in the light, unable to see him, yet everything he did was under that person’s control.

He was like a bird in a cage; the moment the master pulled the string, no matter how far he flew, he would be dragged back.

This feeling.

Duan clutched his phone, a surge of suffocating anger rising in his chest.

So annoying! Annoying, annoying, annoying, annoying!!! Why won’t he just die!! Can he just drop dead already!!!

“Duan Huaijing, why are you spacing out? Let’s go to the haunted house.” Seeing him dazed, Xie Ming lost interest and went back to clinging to Tong Mian, heading toward the entrance.

Seeing Duan still standing there, Xie Ming shouted from a distance.

Duan Huaijing’s pupils refocused, his eyes clearing. He lowered his gaze to hide his emotions, and when he looked up, he was his usual self again.

****

The haunted house was a new attraction, and many people had come to check it out.

The gameplay was unique: not only did you have to find the exit, but every player was given a nameplate before starting. If your nameplate was damaged, you failed. Along the way, you could scavenge for items, but sponges soaked in red dye were “hazards” if you got stained, you were out.

When the owner brought out the mode selection board, Xie Ming immediately chose one: a scene with a hospital bed in the darkness, surrounded by ruins and cobwebs.

Duan Huaijing stood to the side. From his angle, he couldn’t see the pictures, and no one asked for his opinion. He could only steal a glance through the gap between his arm and body.

He only caught a glimpse before the owner tucked the board away after Xie Ming paid.

“Boss, are there prizes if we win?” Xie Ming asked, looking at a display cabinet in the back. “Are those all rewards?”

The owner smiled. “Yes. When only five people are left, you enter the final circle. Prizes are ranked. The first-place prize is that one.”

The owner pointed to something golden in the back of the cabinet.

Duan Huaijing followed his gaze.

“The limited-edition airplane model,” the owner said proudly. “A lot of people came today just for that.”

The model had sleek, elegant lines, like a sword with its edge hidden, reflecting glints of light under the sun.

Duan Huaijing had only looked out of curiosity, but now he couldn’t look away.

He remembered when he was a child and his father was still alive. His father had taken his newly earned wages and brought Duan to a mall on his birthday. His father told him to pick anything he wanted, but little Duan kept shaking his head until they reached a craft store.

In the display case sat a wooden airplane model just like this one. Little Duan’s eyes had been glued to it through the glass.

His father leaned down and asked if he liked it.

Duan wanted to nod, but then he saw the price tag. It was expensive equal to three months of his father’s hard work without eating or drinking.

Little Duan had looked down at his clothes. He had specifically chosen his best outfit for the outing, but standing in that opulent mall, he felt like he didn’t belong. He felt “low-class.”

Can a blade of grass growing in a damp, dirty corner dare to crave the spring sunlight?

Even if he got it, what then? He’d be too afraid to play with it. He’d only take it out to look at it when he couldn’t stand it anymore. Buying it would be useless, right?

It’s useless.

“I don’t like it. I’m just looking,” Duan Huaijing had said, staring at the model, his hands twisted together. His tone was harsh, almost hateful. “The price must be a mistake. It’s so expensive, they might as well be robbing people.”

Duan had turned and walked away, ignoring his father. But as he turned the corner, his eyes had involuntarily lingered on that glass display one last time.

Years later, even with his tight budget, he could afford a model if he saved up, but he didn’t want it anymore. That was a toy for children.

****

His thoughts snapped back as a staff member blindfolded him to lead him into the haunted house.

They were separated upon entry; it seemed to be a solo game.

Duan Huaijing carefully pinned his nameplate to his waist, fearing it would break. He reached out to feel the walls, inching along.

He had a plan. This was like a battle royale game. He could choose to “camp” in a safe zone, but he wouldn’t get much loot and wouldn’t be able to defend himself. But he couldn’t win in a fair fight either.

He decided to find a few defensive items and then hide, waiting for the others to take each other out.

He crept along the wall, making his footsteps as silent as possible. It was a good strategy; if he hid long enough, those who came later would think the area was empty. After two or three groups fought it out, Duan could swoop in with his pink toy gun and “finish” them off.

He’d had a good haul so far. Amidst the shocked cries of “Holy crap, you’re so cheap!” from other players, Duan tucked his trophies into his pocket and returned to his hiding spot, feeling satisfied.

Seconds later, a message popped up.

Having so much fun that you didn’t even notice who’s next to you?

Duan’s hands shook. He spun around neurotically. “Where are you?”

Behind you.

Duan Huaijing whirled around. A cry of surprise was smothered by a palm. His back hit the peeling wallpaper. He instinctively raised his weapon, but it was effortlessly confiscated.

In the face of absolute strength, he didn’t even have the power to resist.

The man’s palm only covered his mouth; he could still breathe through his nose. Duan took large, gulping breaths, terrified he’d stop breathing the next second.

Duan’s eyes were wide as he tried to make out the man’s face, but it was too dark; he could only see a vague silhouette.

“Let go of me,” Duan struggled like a dying rabbit.

This was a blind spot for the cameras; no one could see them.

The man tilted his head slightly, silent. His movements suggested he was sniffing for the scent of someone else on Duan. Just as Duan thought he wouldn’t speak, he felt a sharp pain in his ear.

He instinctively ducked his neck, but the man didn’t let go. Following Duan’s movement, he darted his tongue out to lick the earlobe.

Duan Huaijing’s hands gripped his trousers. A wave of tingling heat shot up his spine, making his legs feel weak.

After a while, when Duan’s ear felt numb, the man finally let go.

Duan’s skin was pale, so any mark was glaringly obvious. Because the man hadn’t held back, there were clear teeth marks on the rim of his ear.

Like a territory that had been marked.

The man had brushed aside Duan’s hair while biting, but soon the hair fell back down, partially concealing the marks. Unless someone looked from a specific angle, they wouldn’t notice.

Duan was terrified by the man’s gaze. The last time he’d seen a look like that was on the day of his engagement to Xie Ming.

Duan wanted to flee. His intuition told him this look was dangerous, but before he could move, the man’s eyes shifted. Like a venomous snake in the forest sensing its prey’s intent to run, he immediately coiled into a combat stance.

A poor rabbit caught by a snake stands no chance.

Duan felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck. “The Eyes” had bitten down, his sharp teeth grinding against the delicate skin.

At first, it was gentle, almost tentative. It was itchy, and Duan couldn’t help but shrink his neck.

At that moment, the man’s hair, which was slightly prickly, paused and then the pressure intensified. He was biting and sucking with a desperate, skin-starved hunger.

“I love baby so much. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

The man repeated the words like a delirious mantra. Duan knew he was having another “episode.”

The man’s teeth broke the thin skin of the nape, as if he were marking an Omega.

But Betas have no glands. They aren’t affected by pheromones. Even the strongest scent would just be like perfume pleasant for a while, but eventually fading away. Betas are forever free, never enslaved by pheromones.

The man was like a trapped beast, repeating the same futile action over and over.

Duan Huaijing tilted his head back, forced to endure it. He was waiting for the man to lose control so his pheromones would leak; once he knew if the man was an Alpha or an Omega, it would be much easier to find him.

But after a minute, he still didn’t smell any pheromones. He heard a rustling sound and looked down. The man was injecting himself with a pheromone blocker.

Is he an Alpha?

That was Duan’s first thought. Then he saw the myriad of needle marks on the man’s arm, and his breath hitched.

Those were marks accumulated over a long time. It was clear he relied on these to keep his pheromones hidden.

Duan was a Beta, but even he knew that if an Alpha constantly suppressed their pheromones, the blockers would eventually fail. When that happened, it would be like a volcano that had been building pressure, the desire would explode.

Sensing his gaze, the man slowly looked up, meeting his eyes through the mask.

Duan was even more curious about this person. Who was he? Someone who would rather endure the burning pain of pheromone suppression and the agony of a thousand needles just to kiss him.

“You’ve been getting close to Xie Yun lately,” the man said, his voice husky as he tucked the empty blocker into his pocket.

Duan stated simply: “You’re stalking me.”

The man let out a cold chuckle. He placed his hands on either side of Duan’s neck, like lovers about to kiss, but also in a position to easily pull him into a possessive embrace.

“It’s the Xie family. Who doesn’t know them?” The man suddenly tightened his hands around Duan’s neck, slowly increasing the pressure. His voice was as cold as a snake hiding in a corner. “If you get close to those people again, I really will strangle you.”

Duan Huaijing shivered uncontrollably. Feeling the racing heart caused by slight suffocation, he knew this madman was truly capable of such extremes.

Back when he and Xie Ming were forced to stay in the same room, this man had said he would kill Duan and then commit suicide so they could be a pair of “lovebirds” in the underworld.

Satisfied with his reaction, the man loosened his grip. His thumb gently stroked the warm skin over Duan’s pulse.

Duan was terrified, but he had to defend himself. This man’s pettiness was legendary; if he remembered this later, who knew what tortures he’d devise.

“The agreement was to break the engagement with Xie Ming within ten days. But his brother, Xie Yun, is making things difficult. That’s why I’m approaching him.”

“The Eyes” let out a light laugh that seemed to dissipate in the air, yet it carried an invisible pressure. “Oh? Calling him ‘Xie Yun’ already?”

Duan Huaijing braced himself. “I have to win him over slowly.”

“The Eyes” drawled, “But I don’t want to wait for you to take it slow.”

He continued: “I told you, didn’t I? I don’t want to be the ‘other man’.”

Duan screamed in his head: You bite and kiss another man’s fiancé, yet you won’t let the fiancé touch him. How are you NOT the other man?

Just then, the sound of a used item echoed nearby. Xie Yun’s voice rang through the cramped space. “Give me your weapon. I can spare you.”

For some reason, hearing that voice made Duan’s heart surge with excitement. It was as if he’d found a glimmer of hope.

His expression didn’t escape “The Eyes.”

The latter, displeased, clamped a hand onto Duan’s face and forced it forward. “You look so happy the moment you hear him.”

Duan was forced to look up. He lowered his eyelids to hide his emotions. He wasn’t happy; it was just that hearing a familiar voice gave him a sense of security, like meeting a fellow townsman in a foreign land.

But in the other man’s eyes, his silence was an admission. “The Eyes” narrowed his eyes slightly. “Fine.”

Duan blinked, not understanding what that “Fine” meant.

“The Eyes” leaned in close to his ear, whispering words that made his entire body tremble.

“Tell me. What would you do if I ran him over with my car?”

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