Chapter 2: Chains
After Shang Yan left, the hotel returned to a deathly silence.
Jiang Zhaosheng entered the bathroom. The scent of the body wash used by the previous person still lingered. At the thought of Wen Zheng, he couldn’t help but let out a dry heave. The man leaned over the sink, his face nearly buried in the white porcelain basin, but he could produce nothing.
When he looked up, the areas around his azure-blue eyes were bright red.
How pathetic. If someone had told Jiang Zhaosheng ten years ago that he would be pinned down in a dark hotel room by a few Alpha cubs… he probably would have shot them on the spot.
Now? He had countless opportunities to cleanly and decisively eliminate both of them. For Jiang Zhaosheng, weapons were never a problemâa pen or a wire could easily take a life. However, their social connections prevented him from doing so.
Whether it was the power behind Shang Yan or the safety of Jiang Wan behind him, everything reminded Jiang Zhaosheng: you have walked into the sunlight; you can no longer do those things.
Even his resistance in grabbing Shang Yanâs throat had been an act, performed to make them believe he was just an ordinary person. After all, no matter how cowardly a person might be, they would still struggle in pain when faced with such a situation.
Cold water poured over his head. Jiang Zhaosheng scrubbed at the marks almost masochistically until his skin was red. The physical nausea and humiliation were real, but mentally, the pain was suppressed by logic and patience.
While drying himself with a towel, Jiang Zhaosheng fell into deep thought as he looked at a faint scar on his lower abdomen.
This was an injury he had sustained before. Wen Zheng had leaned in to kiss it, asking how it had happened and if it hurt. Jiang Zhaosheng had brushed him off with a vague answer.
In bed, men all seemed to be the same, but Shang Yan hadn’t asked how it got there. Instead, he had obsessively stroked it back and forth until the skin felt hot and stinging before letting go.
The stubbornness in his eyes seemed to overflow, as if he knew how that scar had been made. It didn’t look like pity; it looked like remembrance.
But how could that be possible…? When he was risking his life, Shang Yan was probably only a seven or eight-year-old child.
If Shang Yan really knew what he used to do… then he had to make him shut up forever before he could expose him.
After finishing his shower and heading out, Jiang Zhaosheng happened to run into the room service attendant who was tidying up. The attendant stared blankly at his face for a moment before pointing to the coffee table and explaining:
“This is the card Mr. Shang left for you. He said the password is your birthday…”
In the eyes of the hotel staff, the man wearing only a towel possessed an extraordinary temperament. His upper body was lean, with beautiful muscle definition clearly visible. The narrowest part of his waist looked as if it were only the width of a manâs palm. His long hair was damp and draped over his neck, water droplets winding down from the tips onto his pale skin.
His features were bold and strikingâa face that should have been very intimidatingâyet because of those fox-like eyes, one couldn’t help but feel a stir of desire.
Jiang Zhaosheng didn’t speak, silently watching the card. The attendant felt a bit nervous, unsure why a sense of fear was rising in their heart.
“I see.”
With fingertips slightly pale from the long soak pressed against the card, Jiang Zhaosheng kept his head down, his long hair falling to cover most of his face.
“Mr. Shang also left a set of clothes for you…”
“I see.”
After the attendant left, Jiang Zhaosheng professionally inspected the card and the clothing.
His fingertips rubbed every inch of the card’s surface, feeling for tiny protrusions, and he bent the card repeatedly to test its resilience and internal structure. It was indeed an ordinary credit card, though the limit was shockingly high.
The clothes were neatly folded on the sofa. Jiang Zhaosheng walked over and picked up a shirt. The fabric was top-tier Egyptian cotton, cool and smooth to the touch. He shook the garment out, his fingers skillfully exploring the lining, collar, cuffs, and buttons. His movements were professional and swift. No listening devices, no tracking chipsâit was just a set of expensive, well-fitting clothes, the size perfect to the millimeter.
It was likely Shang Yanâs way of showing off his powers of observation, as well as declaring an all-encompassing controlâknowing even the exact dimensions of your body.
Jiang Zhaosheng expressionlessly tossed the clothes back onto the sofa.
“Counselor” was undoubtedly a huge irony. While he didn’t know what Shang Yan was thinking, Jiang Zhaosheng didn’t feel this was a bad thing.
St. Lis Academy, that ivory tower built of money and power. He needed to understand the rules there, know the role Shang Yan played within it, evaluate Wen Zhengâs potential value, and more importantly… find a fulcrum for himself to pry open a gap under Shang Yanâs absolute control.
One week later.
The black car passed a massive lawn that looked like green velvet and stopped in front of a modern glass building standing independently next to the main teaching block.
The car door was respectfully opened by the uniformed driver.
Jiang Zhaosheng stepped out of the car. Today he was wearing a black overcoat, the cut accentuating his imposing presence. Beneath it was a brown cashmere shirt, and under that, a black mid-neck base layer that acted like a second skin, revealing a subtle boundary just an inch above the overcoatâs collar, perfectly framing the lines of his neck.
His jet-black hair was tied low behind his head, secured neatly with a simple silver clip, revealing his smooth, full forehead and sharp jawline.
All emotions on his face were perfectly contained, carrying a glacier-like calm. His lake-blue eyes were like high-quality jadeite.
This glittering world woven from pheromones, money, and privilege was St. Lis Academyâthe place where Jiang Wan went to school.
The exterior was luxuriously low-key, while the interior space was open, with quiet pale beige walls, matte metal fittings, and massive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a carefully designed Zen landscape garden. The air was filled with fragrance, an attempt to create an atmosphere of peace and tranquility.
A few young Alpha students wearing St. Lis Academy uniforms were walking out of a nearby boutique cafĂŠ.
Upon seeing Jiang Zhaosheng standing at the entrance, their footsteps stopped in unison. Admiration, curiosity, speculationâseveral gazes were cast invisibly toward him.
It seemed that whether it was that somber overcoat, his appearance, or that striking long hair, they all piqued the curiosity and prying eyes of the young Alphas here.
“Hiss… a new teacher?” A tall, flamboyant Alpha raised an eyebrow, his gaze carrying undisguised ambition. “That aura… it’s incredible.”
“Those eyes are really special. Is he mixed-race?” his companion whispered back.
Jiang Zhaosheng acted as if he hadn’t heard these discussions. Ignoring the burning gazes around him, he kept his eyes straight and walked directly toward the agreed-upon location.
Looking the way he did, age became the least important label. The manâs steady pace and the “keep away” aura he radiated seemed to draw an invisible boundary around him; for a moment, no one dared to approach him.
In this manner, Jiang Zhaosheng successfully reached the meeting point, standing before an independent building with a highly modern design.
Unexpectedly, at the entrance of the “Soul Garden” Shang Yan had mentioned, there hung a brand-new plaque with a dark wood base and metal inlays. On it were three powerful, calligraphic charactersâ”Chengxin Zhai.”
He didn’t believe for a second that Shang Yan was kind enough to let him be a “counselor.” Moreover, it was clear the original building had been renovated, and even given a poetic name. This man must be incredibly bored.
The door was suddenly pulled open from the inside. Shang Yan stood leisurely within, wearing a crisp academy uniform, with an impeccable smile on his faceâthe kind typical of a student leader.
“Teacher Jiang, good morning. You’re quite punctual.”
Shang Yanâs “warm welcome” made him seem like a completely different person from the neurotic controller in the hotel room.
He stepped aside to clear the way, his face full of sincerity:
“Welcome to St. Lis. Your office is on the second floor. You can see the entire garden and the bell tower from the floor-to-ceiling windows. I specifically had one-way glass installed to ensure privacy.”
Shang Yanâs gaze fell on Jiang Zhaoshengâs outfit. Three buttons of the brown shirt were open, and a slender silver chain hung across his neck. Combined with his neatly tied hair, the manâs aura became instantly ethereal.
“This look suits you. Clean.”
Shang Yan looked him up and down with satisfaction. He hooked his index finger into that thin sweater chain and said with regret:
“But, you didn’t wear the clothes I bought.”
Jiang Zhaosheng cursed him in his head. The skin on his neck hadn’t fully healed yet; if he entered the campus with those blue and purple marks, he probably wouldn’t even make it past the security guard.
The light inside was excellent. A set of brick-red sofas surrounded a glass coffee table. Shang Yan suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled. Without warning, Jiang Zhaosheng was forced to sit sideways with his long legs curled on the Alphaâs hard thigh.
His fragile neck was touched. Jiang Zhaosheng could only suppress his instinct to fight back, curling his fingers in endurance.
The collar of the dark base layer pressing against his skin was pulled aside. Shang Yan caught a glimpse of the unhealed bruises in the shadows. He let go, realizing that Jiang Zhaoshengâs outfit wasn’t just about looking asceticâ
Not only had he wrapped himself up like a Zongzi, but he also wore an expression of cold inviolability. Did he really not know that the more he acted this way, the more it made people want to peel him apart layer by layer?
“Now,” Shang Yanâs finger still hooked the silver chain, “take it off.”
Translator’s Note: “Chengxin Zhai” (ćžĺżé˝) can be translated as the “Pavilion of the Clarified Heart” or “Studio of the Pure Heart.” “Zhai” usually refers to a study or a place for quiet cultivation. Also, a “Zongzi” (粽ĺ) is a traditional Chinese rice dumpling wrapped tightly in bamboo leavesâJiang Zhaoshengâs layers of clothing make him look like one! Poor Zhaosheng is trying to be professional while these Alphas are being… well, Alphas.
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