Chapter 1: Falling into Trouble part 1
As the city lights began to flicker on, a black Maybach made a sharp, clean turn and pulled into the parking lot of a high-end hotel. In the back seat, a young man stared at his phone screenâwhich showed another disconnected callâand frowned slightly. This was the fifth time.
“Idiots led by their lower halves,” Shang Yan cursed under his breath.
The driver parked the car and remained as silent as a statue. Shang Yan pushed the door open, stepped out with a composed stride, and headed straight for the private elevator.
The fingerprint lock clicked open. The temperature inside the suite was slightly high, and the air was thick with the lingering scent of Alpha pheromones and another cloying sweetness. Being an Alpha himself, Shang Yan held his breath in disgust. Without stopping, he walked with clear purpose toward the slightly ajar bedroom door.
Under the dim lighting, the scene was one of decadence. Wen Zheng was stripped to the waist, his sturdy upper body bare, with several fresh, savage red scratches marking his broad back. Wearing only a pair of shorts, he was half-kneeling by the bedside in a posture of humble entreaty that was entirely at odds with his imposing physique.
“Baby, itâs not comfortable sleeping like this. Why donât you get up and take a shower, alright?”
Shang Yan walked around to the other side of the bed. He casually rested his knee against the edge of the mattress and suddenly yanked back the coversâ
Beneath the velvet quilt, a face of striking impact was revealed.
His long eyebrows were like ink-brushed blades, slanting toward his temples with a sharp, meticulously carved edge. Most unique of all were his deep eyesâlake blue, clear as melting glaciers, but currently shrouded in a misty dampness. His curled lashes were like butterfly wings, and his full lips were the color of roses, the labial tubercle prominent and marked with small, ambiguous breaks. A nose as straight as a ruler tempered the vivid beauty of his features; masculinity and elegance merged strangely upon that face.
Upon skin as fair as cold jade, those marksâlike plum blossoms fallen on snowâformed a heart-stopping contrast with his sharp-angled, wild countenance.
The moment his vision focused on Shang Yanâs face, the hazy, fragile mist in the eyes of the man on the bed evaporated instantly.
Jiang Zhaoshengâs body tensed. With incredible speed, he lunged upward and gripped Shang Yanâs throat, his eyes filled with undisguised murderous intent.
Wen Zheng was so startled he forgot to move. Shang Yanâs face turned slightly red from the lack of air, yet he continued to smile with excitement, appearing like a completely different person from the disgusted man who had just walked through the door.
He pressed the play button on his phoneâs recorder, and a girlâs voice rang out:
“My dad? His name is Jiang Zhaosheng. Why are you asking about him… Heâs very good to me, though sometimes heâs a bit unreliable…”
Immediately, he saw Jiang Zhaoshengâs hand go limp as if all his strength had vanished.
“Cough…” Shang Yan rubbed the stinging finger marks on his neck. “Youâre quite ruthless, Uncle Jiang. Jiang Wan and I are considered friends, you know. How sad would she be if she knew you treated her friend like this?”
As his long fingers sank into the bedsheets, Shang Yan observed with great interest. Just a single name, a fragment of a voice, was enough to strip away all of this man’s defiance.
Shang Yan let out a light sneer, his gaze falling on Jiang Zhaoshengâs long hair scattered across the pillow. The manâs hair was pitch black, like the finest silk, shimmering under the light.
He reached out and slowly picked up a strand of black hair. The hair slid through his fingers like cold water running over dry palms, feeling slightly itchy.
“Wen Zheng,” Shang Yan said, his gaze still glued to the strands in his hand, his tone flat. “You should head back to school. Three days is long enough.”
However, Jiang Zhaosheng could feel that the hand stroking his back had stopped.
Wen Zheng let out an irritated “Tsk.” His gaze lingered between Shang Yan and the curled figure on the bed for a moment before he finally, with a sense of lingering dissatisfaction, kicked aside the clothes on the floor, grabbed a T-shirt from the sofa, and strode into the bathroom. The door slammed shut with a deafening bang.
Jiang Zhaosheng closed his eyes, forcing his chaotic thoughts to settle. Shang Yan… he was so young, yet he possessed a depth and a restrained aura of a superior that far exceeded his age. This kind of effortless control was not something that could be developed overnight.
The fact that he could give orders to an Alpha like Wen Zheng, and even make the man obey… meant that his status in this circle was transcendent. This would be difficult.
Sensing his distraction, Shang Yan suddenly struck again: “What are you thinking about?”
His chin was pinched, and a thumb pressed heavily over his lips. Forced into eye contact by Shang Yanâs grip on his jaw, Jiang Zhaosheng simply closed his eyes, adopting an attitude of “do as you please.”
Shang Yan was not like Wen Zheng; his desires were not as overt. Moreover, Jiang Zhaosheng hadn’t even bathed yet, and this man was a germaphobe; he likely wouldn’t touch him now.
“Your eyes… are truly beautiful.”
A sharp pain shot from his collarbone, but Jiang Zhaosheng swallowed his groan. He felt as if his scalp was about to explode… Every time Shang Yan came close to him, it brought a deep sense of revulsion.
Shang Yan looked with satisfaction at the fresh bite mark he had left, maliciously pressing his thumb against the swelling area while speaking with double meaning:
“…Quite the repertoire of skills, Uncle Jiang.”
“In just a few days, you’ve made that mad dog Wen Zheng so devoted to you that he won’t even attend class?” His voice was very low, perfectly masked by the sound of the running water in the bathroom.
Jiang Zhaosheng opened his eyes, his eyebrows slightly raised, his gaze filled with cold mockery:
“Thanks to all of you, I understand now. In the heads of people like you… aside from this filth, thereâs probably room for nothing else.”
“Oh?” Shang Yan suddenly leaned in closer, pinching his cheek. “Let me guess… are you trying to drive a wedge between us? Make us fight so you can take the chance to escape?”
Jiang Zhaoshengâs irises were light in color, making his pupil contractions particularly obvious. Shang Yan looked straight into the depths of his eyes, trying to catch even a reaction as tiny as the vibration of a butterflyâs wing.
“I haven’t debased myself to the point… of playing games with rapists,” he said coldly.
There was no reaction; Jiang Zhaosheng was like a hollow doll, even the curve of his eyelashes remained unchanged.
“It’s hard not to fall for a face like this, I get it,” Shang Yan let out an ambiguous low laugh, his forehead resting against Jiang Zhaoshengâs, their posture as intimate as lovers whispering in the dark. “Itâs just that youâre too… ‘special.’ So special that one can’t help but want to…”
Jiang Zhaosheng gathered his strength to push away from the young manâs hot embrace:
“âGet lost.”
The overwhelming power gap of an Alpha was revealed at this moment. Shang Yan was only pushed back slightly, and the curve of his lips actually deepened.
The bathroom door was pulled open roughly, water droplets still clinging to Wen Zhengâs face. The scene before him made his heart tighten:
Misty black hair was spread messily across the pillow. Jiang Zhaosheng looked like a fragile specimen forcibly pinned to a display board, his nape held firmly by Shang Yanâs large hand. For a Beta male, his body wasn’t considered weak, yet under the absolute suppression of an Alpha’s strength, he appeared exceptionally thin and… breakable. Transparent tears rolled down silently, one by one, along his pointed chin, disappearing into the shadows of the expensive, wrinkled bedsheets beneath him.
Wen Zheng wanted to stop it, but he had no suitable reasonâ
Shang Yanâs neck bore a ring of startling purple bruises. Now, these marks were being “repaid” in a more hidden way, imprinted upon the parts of Jiang Zhaoshengâs body covered by clothing.
Shang Yan didn’t even look back at him. Instead, he plunged his fingers deep into that thick, dark hair, combing through it almost roughly. Had Jiang Zhaoshengâs hair not been so smooth, the action would have certainly caused him to wince in pain.
As he moved, he asked coldly in return, “Am I interrupting you?”
Wen Zheng was instantly speechless. He remembered that when he had monopolized Jiang Zhaosheng, Shang Yan had indeed given him “space.” The chain of calls had only started tonight… he found no ground to argue.
Finally, only the two of them remained in the room. Shang Yanâs movements slowed. Jiang Zhaosheng felt a stickiness on his cheekâtears mixed with sweat-dampened hair. Just as he tried to raise his hand, Shang Yan intercepted his fingertips, tucking the annoying strand of hair behind his ear for him.
A sigh-like whisper fell by his ear:
“…Itâs truly a pity. Those claws that used to be so sharp can now only be used to scratch bedsheets.”
Jiang Zhaoshengâs body stiffened slightly before returning to that limp, strengthless state.
He kept his eyes tightly shut, his thick lashes casting heavy, fan-shaped shadows beneath his eyes, concealing all his surging emotions. Was this a probe? A coincidence? Or… had the ghosts of his past truly caught up to him? No, that identity had long since been buried by his own hands.
Jiang Zhaosheng chose silence, using his most fragile state as his armor.
The amusement in Shang Yanâs eyes grew. He didn’t intend to press further; what he wanted was this unresolved suspense and doubt. It was like an invisible thread; he only needed to wind it around the prey’s heart.
“By the way, the ‘Soul Garden’ at our school has closed,” Shang Yanâs voice returned to its previous calm. “âNow, we need an experienced counselor who is particularly good at ‘soothing’ people’s hearts.”
“Especially those… restless Alpha students. You know, when adolescent Alphas have their pheromones acting up, they always need someone to… ‘enlighten’ them.”
“I believe Uncle Jiang is so experienced that you know best how to ‘soothe’ people. Youâre the perfect fit, aren’t you?”
“I refuse,” Jiang Zhaosheng spoke with his eyes closed, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “People get tired of looking at this face… eventually. Find yourselves another toy.”
This face hasn’t changed at all; he’s like a fox spirit, Shang Yan thought.
“Tired?” He maliciously pressed a finger against the wound on Jiang Zhaoshengâs lip. “I think… one could never look at it enough.”
Shang Yanâs hand slid along Jiang Zhaoshengâs jawline to his Adamâs apple, scratching that sensitive spot as if teasing a cat:
“Don’t be in such a rush to refuse. Think about Jiang Wan. Isn’t she currently preparing for the selection of that very important international student exchange program?”
The lake-blue eyes snapped open. For a moment, Shang Yan thought he was about to lunge up and slit his throat.
Though brief, the contraction of those pupils did not escape Shang Yanâs eyes.
“A stable, respectable job on campus… will have somewhat of a positive impact on a studentâs parental background check, don’t you think, Uncle Jiang?” Shang Yanâs tone was persuasive, as if he were looking out for him. “A counselor, a counselor… sounds much more reliable than ‘unemployed’ or some unknown ‘freelancer,’ wouldn’t you say?”
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