The Little Wretch Differentiated into an Alpha - Chapter 9

Gu Yanxiu’s question had been sincere: he truly wanted to know what she thought she was doing.

He had seen the whole sequence of events. Lu Ye came home thirty minutes late, Gu Yi asked a casual question, and Zhu Xinyou reacted as if it were a capital offense, resorting to physical violence. Gu Yanxiu generally believed that one shouldn’t interfere in the private affairs of others, but he found this situation deeply distasteful.

His father hadn’t intended to blame Lu Ye at all, so why was Zhu Xinyou so hell-bent on hitting him? Gu Yanxiu felt it necessary to get a clear answer.

Zhu Xinyou, however, didn’t seem to grasp his intent. First came panic, followed by a torrent of rapid-fire explanations it seemed her mouth moved significantly faster than her brain.

“I was just trying to scare him, Yanxiu, don’t misunderstand! This boy. it’s his first day of school and he comes home this late, I was just worried about him!”

Just a scare? The fresh marks were right there on his face; what was the point of lying?

Gu Yanxiu looked at her, but before he could speak, her terror intensified. Her face twisted into a fawning smile as she quickly changed her tune. “Did I interrupt you and the Master while you were discussing important business? Oh dear, I understand now. I was too loud. I’ll be careful from now on.”

Gu Yanxiu rubbed his temples. Why was talking to this woman so difficult? Not only could she not break her habit of over-analyzing everything, but she was also constantly groveling to him a junior which left him feeling speechless.

Do I really look that overbearing?

After a moment of silence, he tried a different approach. “Father prefers peace and quiet. He doesn’t want the house to be constantly noisy,” he said, softening his tone slightly.

Zhu Xinyou nodded immediately, looking as if she were ready to swear an oath to the heavens. “I understand! It won’t happen again!”

Then, shifting gears instantly, she dumped all the blame back onto Lu Ye. “It’s all because this boy provokes me! The Lower District is always like this—no discipline, no education. It ruins the children. I was just worried he’d cause trouble outside and I wouldn’t be able to face the Master.”

There she went again. No one was blaming her, so why was she so desperate for a scapegoat?

Gu Yanxiu frowned, unable to stop himself from cutting her off. “It’s a small matter,” he said flatly.

Zhu Xinyou shut her mouth instantly.

In his peripheral vision, Lu Ye was still standing there. The old and new bruises on his face were stark. Having grown up in the Inner Port, Gu Yanxiu had never seen someone beaten like that. He paused, and before turning to walk away, he left one final instruction.

“Don’t hit people in this house again.”

Lu Ye stood there, watching his biological mother eagerly scramble toward the “Young Master” to invite him to the dining room for dinner.

The Master declined. He headed downstairs, his silhouette disappearing down the massive spiral staircase. Zhu Xinyou looked like an ant on a hot griddle.

Lu Ye didn’t understand what she was so afraid of. Even he could tell the Young Master simply had no appetite. He was like a rare animal kept under a glass dome excessively fragile and precious, where a slight change in temperature or humidity was enough to make him lose interest in his food and droop his beautiful feathers.

The only thing that surprised Lu Ye was that he was the one who had ruined the Young Master’s mood for dinner.

In truth, Zhu Xinyou had been wrongly accused this time. She wasn’t the one who had hit him. That was his schoolmates and he really was late because the night bus only stopped at the foot of the mountain, forcing him to hike up.

Zhu Xinyou liked to throw tantrums, and he didn’t mind them, but he hadn’t expected the Young Master to care.

As Gu Yanxiu stood on the stairs, the sophisticated lighting of the manor made it look as though he were still under a spotlight. Everything was so clear that Lu Ye could see the slight furrow of his brow and the fleeting, cold pity in those distant eyes.

Lu Ye knew it wasn’t sympathy for him specifically. It was just that those eyes were too clear and refined—much like their owner, they were naturally repulsed by violence, filth, and suffering.

The vocabulary of the Outer Port was sparse. Lu Ye couldn’t find the words to describe how it felt to look up at Gu Yanxiu. He only knew it was a bit blinding.

Even though Gu Yanxiu had only spoken one sentence, it carried immense weight for Zhu Xinyou. She was terrified; this world of the powerful kept her on edge.

When she married Lu Chengfeng, she was just a lucky fan who had married her idol—a leap to the heavens. Back then, she only had to enjoy the luxury he provided and the camera flashes of the media. But then, Lu Chengfeng fell from grace. Not wanting to go down with his sinking ship, she had done everything to distance herself in the eyes of the public.

Then Gu Yi appeared like a god from the machinery a true tycoon, a rare A-grade Alpha. It was a fairy tale come true. Zhu Xinyou felt blessed by fate to use her failed marriage as a stepping stone into the Gu Financial Group.

But the reality was different. Gu Yi was too cold, like a demanding superior. She had no say in the running of the manor, and she was a frequent laughingstock at high-society gatherings. Moreover, there was Gu Yi’s beautiful late wife, Xiang Wei. To this day, the Gu manor still kept the high tower she used for stargazing.

Every time Zhu Xinyou looked at that tower through a window, she wished she had a child of her own. But she was a Beta, and Gu Yi had told her on their wedding night that he would not have a second child. Why? Zhu Xinyou still didn’t know. She could only guess it was because he loved Xiang Wei too much.

She was just a mediocre successor. So she was jealous, and in her jealousy, she feared everyone in this house.

After Gu Yanxiu went downstairs, Zhu Xinyou hurried to have the servants arrange for his meal to be sent to him. She didn’t dare go herself.

The second basement level of the manor was Gu Yanxiu’s tenth birthday present. Gu Yi had built a massive aquarium there for him. Gu Yanxiu loved spending time there, doing homework or reading. When Zhu Xinyou first married in, she tried to win over this polite, elegant child by enthusiastically helping him feed the fish.

An Atlantic sailfish died mysteriously shortly after.

That day, the twelve-year-old Gu Yanxiu stood before the glass wall of the aquarium, looking up as the staff cleared away the carcass. “Auntie, don’t help me with anything ever again.”

Under the shadow of the great fish’s body, the deep blue ripples reflected on his expressionless face. That was the first time Zhu Xinyou felt truly afraid of him. She never ventured to the second basement again, not even to deliver food.

After giving the servants their orders, Zhu Xinyou turned around and saw Lu Ye looking in that same direction.

“Unlucky brat.”

If not for Lu Ye, she wouldn’t feel so humiliated! Her resentment finally found an outlet. She flicked her hand as if dismissing a stray dog. “Still here? I gave you the keys. Don’t go poking around the main building anymore, you hear me?”

She threw the spare keys for the servants’ quarters at Lu Ye’s feet. He bent down to pick them up. As he turned to leave, her shrill voice followed him. “And don’t go lurking around. The floor downstairs belongs to the Young Master. No one is allowed in. Remember that.”

Lu Ye didn’t know who she was trying to impress with those useless words. He wasn’t interested. He took the keys and left.

The glass he had smashed yesterday had already been silently repaired, replaced with even tougher bulletproof glass. Since he couldn’t break in, he’d had to get the keys. When he first asked for them, Zhu Xinyou had mocked him, saying that in the Inner Port, only servants used keys.

Lu Ye unlocked the door, indifferent.

Dinner time had already passed. The scent of food from the main building drifted far, and the servants in the nearby quarters were also eating. Lu Ye went up to the second floor, dropped his bag, and pulled a nutrient pack from a drawer.

It was a common, budget brand in foil packaging. Lu Ye tore it open with his teeth and sat on the windowsill, biting into the pack as he pulled out his phone. This was the most common communication tool in the Outer Port, it could sync data with the “link-comms” used by the rich, but it was far less convenient.

Dozens of unread messages popped up, mostly from his racing team’s group chat.

#2 Quinn: Hit the track today. The handling felt like crap. 

#5 Flavia: Too many turns on this course. Straightaways into hairpins hard to control the speed. AAA Corentin Manager Chen Zixuan: It’s fine. Lyle is coming back this weekend. Let him run a few laps.

 #2 Quinn: No way. Ye-zi is up in the Inner Port being a rich kid now. He’s really coming back to race?? AAA Corentin Manager Chen Zixuan: He’s definitely coming back.

The rest of the unread messages were private pings from the team manager, Chen Zixuan—a dozen or so dramatic wails begging him not to forget his brothers just because he was a “Young Master” now, claiming the team was finished without him.

Lu Ye kept the nutrient pack in his mouth, closed the private chat, and typed one word in the group: “Back.”

Instantly, the talkative Quinn jumped in.

Quinn: Damn, finally checked your phone! Ye-zi, are you having a feast up there? What are you eating? Is it amazing?

The nutrient paste spread through his mouth with a heavy chemical aftertaste. A spicy sensation stung his tongue. Lu Ye frowned and checked the label: Szechuan Boiled Pork Flavor.

He’d grabbed the wrong one. It was gross. Lu Ye squeezed the rest of the tube into his mouth anyway.

Quinn was still yapping in the chat.

Quinn: Inner Port food must be incredible, right? I heard even the horses up there get fresh grass. Damn, I’ve only ever tasted the ‘Grass Flavor’ nutrient packs.

Lu Ye swallowed the spicy paste. The nutrients immediately began a biological reaction in his empty stomach, sending a wave of satiety through him.

Outside the window, a breeze carrying the scent of fresh grass blew in softly. Lu Ye looked out at the nearby stables, where several tall, powerful horses were trotting. On the sprawling pasture  a snow-white stallion was the most eye-catching of all.

Lu Ye had seen it yesterday, its owner riding it through the sunset. He had never seen a horse with a coat like silk; the way it caught the light almost hurt his eyes.

The phone vibrated again.

Quinn: What do the people up there look like? Are they like us?

The people here? In just two days, Lu Ye had seen quite a few. But with the gentle evening wind, the rustling trees, and the mottled sunset covering the mountains, this kind of night was easy to compare to a pair of indifferent yet compassionate eyes.

“Different,” Lu Ye replied.

That person seemed different from everyone else.

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