The Little Wretch Differentiated into an Alpha - Chapter 10

Gu Yanxiu truly believed that if Brandon spent half as much time on his coursework as he did on celebrity gossip, he’d pass at least three more subjects by finals. Currently, however, that seemed unlikely.

Kaina First had four periods in the morning. The first three were core subjects: Mathematics, Language, and Politics. Math class was notorious for being a snooze-fest, especially during the morning slump.

The math teacher for Class A was a stern Beta woman named Ms. Zhang. She was famously impartial any student caught nodding off was promptly invited to stand at the back of the room to “wake up.”

Today was no exception. As the fourth dejected student trudged to the back of the class, Ms. Zhang’s sharp gaze swept the room. “Put away anything that has nothing to do with Mathematics,” she said pointedly.

The classroom fell into a pin-drop silence. Only Brandon, sitting next to Gu Yanxiu, failed to notice. He stared straight ahead, a silly, muffled chuckle escaping his lips.

Gu Yanxiu nudged him with an elbow, but it was too late.

“Brandon Heath.” Ms. Zhang barked his full name.

Brandon jumped, nearly knocking over his chair as he scrambled to his feet. Ms. Zhang marched down the aisle and efficiently confiscated his comms device. The indicator light was pulsing clear evidence that its owner had been using it with a hidden screen.

“Don’t think I can’t see you just because you’re being sneaky. From the podium, I can see everything you’re doing!” She slammed the device onto his desk. “What’s so funny? Open it up and share it with the class!”

Brandon hunched his shoulders, not daring to utter a word.

After his device was taken, the bell finally rang for the break. Brandon wailed, rolling his head across his desk in despair. Just as Gu Yanxiu was about to offer some sympathy, Brandon looked up with a look of pure resentment.

“This is all your brother’s fault!”

Gu Yanxiu blinked. “Excuse me?”

It turned out Brandon had spent the entire morning surfing the campus forums, obsessively digging for dirt and every bit of it was about Lu Ye.

Hearing this, Gu Yanxiu felt a dull throb in his temples. “What has he done now?”

“The whole thing with Yuan Lingying! There are five different versions of the story circulating. Today, some guy with the username ‘One Blade for the Beauty’ suddenly jumped in to defend her. He’s been picking fights with everyone in the comments. It’s pure entertainment!”

Gu Yanxiu couldn’t help but scoff. “What kind of name is that?”

“Probably some hopeless romantic obsessed with her,” Brandon said. “He’s hilarious, though totally unhinged. I was laughing because I was arguing with him.”

“So you were ‘interfacing’ with him during class?”

“Yeah!” Brandon slapped the desk. “I barely said two words before he had a total meltdown. He started cursing me out, then he started on your brother, saying we’re both equally ‘annoying.’ Is it true? What’s your brother actually like? Are we really that similar?”

Gu Yanxiu sighed. “How should I know?”

“Oh, come on! He’s living in your house,” Brandon pressed. “You must have noticed something. Even if you don’t hang out, you must eat dinner together.”

Gu Yanxiu thought back for a moment and shook his head. “I’ve never seen him at the dining table.”

Brandon let out an exaggerated gasp. “No way! Why? Does his mom forbid it, or does your dad hate him?”

Gu Yanxiu was stumped. He realized, with a touch of guilt, that he had been too detached to even notice.

Brandon rubbed his chin. “Then what does he eat? Surely he doesn’t go back to his room and eat nutrient packs by himself?” He laughed at his own joke, but stopped when he realized Gu Yanxiu wasn’t joining in.

“What?” Brandon asked.

“Actually” Gu Yanxiu said quietly. “That might be exactly what he’s doing.”

Brandon’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? He’s your stepmom’s flesh and blood. She wouldn’t let him starve. What are you thinking?”

Gu Yanxiu remained silent. Brandon looked horrified, realizing the joke might actually be reality. He was speechless until Gu Yanxiu shook his head. “Wait, I forgot.”

“See? I told you. Why are you worrying about them? Worry about yourself”

“The school has a cafeteria,” Gu Yanxiu noted.

Brandon stared at him in pure shock. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Why would I be kidding?”

The school food? Even a dog wouldn’t eat that.

At dusk, Lu Ye stood before the entrance of the Kaina First cafeteria.

School was over, and the hall was mostly empty save for a few boarding students. Behind the counter, the kitchen staff were chatting idly, glancing at the clock as they waited to clock out.

Seeing Lu Ye approach the window, one of the workers straightened up. “Can I help you, student?”

Lu Ye scanned the extensive menu. “Do you have nutrient packs?”

The worker blinked. “What?”

“Nutrient packs,” Lu Ye repeated.

The worker looked him up and down noticing his worn backpack and shoes and smirked. He probably figured this was another scholarship student from the Lower Districts, or maybe a servant’s kid who got in through a connection.

“We don’t have those,” the worker said, curling his lip. “The free rice is over there.” He gestured dismissively toward a communal vat before slamming the service window shut. It was 7:00 PM; they were off the clock and had no time for a “poor” student.

A few students were sitting in a corner. You couldn’t tell their status just by their uniforms, but they shared one trait: they weren’t eating from the paid menu.

The free rice in the vat a luxury for commoners in Sector 12 was served with a watery soup containing a few floating scraps of egg and vegetable. Those students were wolfing it down.

On the other side of the cafeteria, another group sat together. Their table was set with gold-rimmed plates and fine cutlery. They had a feast spread out before them, along with bottles of soda poured into crystal glasses. They were laughing and glancing at Lu Ye, erupting into mean-spirited giggles.

Lu Ye ignored them, adjusted his bag, and turned to leave.

But the group stood up. Seven or eight tall boys quickly blocked his path. Their leader, a boy with a wide, mocking grin, stepped forward and hooked an arm roughly around Lu Ye’s neck.

“Hey, kid. What were you trying to buy at the window?” he asked. “I think I misheard. Did you say… nutrient packs?”

The group burst into laughter again. Lu Ye didn’t see the punchline. To him, this behavior was just plain stupid. He didn’t want to waste time on idiots, but the Inner Port had strict rules for temporary residents: no attacking others, regardless of the provocation.

The leader dragged him over to their table, surrounded by the rest of the gang.

“Now that you’re at Kaina First, you can’t keep eating that slop,” the leader said, pointing to the corner. “Didn’t you see? Even those peasants get vegetable soup. Why aren’t you eating?”

Lu Ye looked over. The scholarship students had already vanished, sensing trouble. The cafeteria doors were swung shut with a heavy thud.

Lu Ye lowered his eyes lazily. He planned to do what he always did: wait for them to get bored so he could go home. But he was on a tight schedule; the last bus from the school gate would stop running in an hour.

When he didn’t react, two or three students forced him down into a chair with malicious grins. “Since you can’t afford a meal, we’ll treat you today,” they sneered.

The table was a mess of expensive leftovers. Half-eaten steaks with teeth marks were scattered about, used napkins were dunked in the gravy, and bones were strewn everywhere.

Seeing Lu Ye sit motionless, the leader leaned in. “You can handle nutrient packs, so surely you won’t be picky with us, right?” He sighed dramatically. “Fine, I’ll help you clean it up.”

He picked up a plate of French ragout and dumped it unceremoniously onto the floor. “There. You can eat that. No one’s touched this portion.”

The surrounding students doubled over with laughter. This clearly wasn’t their first time doing this. The leader gestured, and the others let go of Lu Ye. He personally grabbed the back of Lu Ye’s collar, shoving him down, trying to force him to his knees.

“We’re paying, so you’d better be a good boy and finish it. Do that, and there’s no problem,” he hissed. “Otherwise. you know there are no cameras in the cafeteria, right?”

At those words, Lu Ye went still.

The leader yanked on his collar, trying to push him down again, and then again. Lu Ye didn’t budge.

“You” the boy started, surprised by the resistance.

“What did you say?” Lu Ye looked up, finally speaking.

Meeting his eyes, the leader felt an instinctive chill. But with seven of his friends around him, including two differentiated Alphas, he felt he had nothing to fear. He bolstered his courage and raised his voice.

“I said there are no cameras! Can’t you hear? The staff are gone, the doors are locked. If you don’t play along, no one will know if you’re beaten to death right here.” He smiled triumphantly. “That boarder who ‘accidentally’ broke his leg last month. how do you think it really happened?”

He was betting the kid would be terrified, just like every other poor student they’d bullied.

But after a brief silence, he saw Lu Ye smile, revealing sharp, prominent canines. The boy looked up, his eyes cold and direct beneath his dark lashes and messy hair.

Then, the “kid” reached up and gripped the leader’s wrist.

“Argh!!”

A numbing pain shot up the boy’s arm, forcing his hand to let go of the collar. Lu Ye peeled the hand away slowly, like he was removing a stray leaf from his shoulder.

He stood up and flicked his wrist. With a thunderous crash, the leader was sent sprawling across the floor.

“Thanks for letting me know,” Lu Ye said, rotating his neck and shoulders to loosen up. “I appreciate the heads-up about the cameras.”

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