Pretending to Be an Alpha in an All-Alpha Boy Band - Chapter 105
Chapter 105: The Black Box
“Baby.”
When Pei Yanbing uttered that intimate term, it was as shocking as seeing a ghost in broad daylight.
Yuan Shiyuan’s fingers remained enveloped in the Alpha’s palm. Sitting ramrod straight with his knees pressed together, his eyelashes trembled almost imperceptibly at the endearment.
This reaction made it clear he wasn’t hearing this nickname for the first time.
“Looks like the captain’s been putting in some private practice,” Ying Mingche murmured, his voice laced with irony. “Secretly rehearsing behind our backs?”
Jiang Heng frowned as well.
Their thoughts aligned perfectly: each had believed himself to be progressing the fastest, the one closest to him. Yet reality had delivered an unexpected, stinging slap.
“None of that matters. The captain’s just doing what’s best for the team,” Ying Mingxi interjected smoothly, redirecting the conversation. “Director, we’ve finished our preliminary performances. What do you think?”
Ying Mingxi smiled warmly but subtly shifted forward, creating distance between Yuan Shiyuan and Pei Yanbing.
“I initially thought you’d need a long time to adapt, but your performances have far exceeded my expectations,” Chen Yin remarked, impressed. “Each of you has such distinct strengths—it’s a truly difficult decision.”
Ying Mingche casually draped his arm around Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulder, almost half-dragging him away from Pei Yanbing. Grinning mischievously, he said, “Director Chen, why not just cast us all as Princess Yuanyuan’s attendants? You said yourself there’s plenty of cannon fodder in the script.”
Chen Yin considered it, but a whole boy group? He felt it was a bit much. Besides, he still had another boy group member on his shortlist.
Ying Mingche had only made the remark half-jokingly, hoping to gauge Chen Yin’s reaction. When Chen Yin remained silent, turning instead to ask Yuan Shiyuan about his insights from the performance, Ying Mingche understood: the director had only limited spots for their group. Securing a package deal for all of them would be difficult.
The conversation in the office seemed to have returned to normal, but only the S-rank Alphas could sense the undercurrents churning beneath the surface.
No one wanted to be left out, and even less did they want to lose this precious opportunity to join Yuan Shiyuan on set. Ying Mingche felt a moment of anxiety, but a secret, hidden glee began to blossom in his heart.
The others seemed to be competing for the role of the “official boyfriend,” while he, single-mindedly focused on the role of the “mistress.”
Ying Mingche’s competition was surprisingly minimal.
“I recommended your acting teacher. How has the class been going lately?”
“The overall feeling you captured in your performance was what I was aiming for, but many details need refinement… We’ll discuss that later.”
Rarely having a moment to himself, Chen Yin shared his creative process with Yuan Shiyuan, asking about the students’ progress, feedback, and overall impressions of the class.
Yuan Shiyuan listened attentively, responding thoughtfully and sharing his own reflections.
The office was filled with their voices.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside the door, accompanied by hurried footsteps. Xiao Huang and Zhuang He checked their mobile phones, their expressions darkening simultaneously.
Through the office’s floor-to-ceiling windows, Yuan Shiyuan saw a crowd gathering below. The company’s main entrance was now surrounded by a sea of dark figures.
This scene was normally unremarkable; fans and paparazzi often besieged the company’s perimeter. But his eyelid twitched, a sudden sense of foreboding washing over him.
“What’s going on?” Zhuang He answered a call, instinctively moving toward the door, his voice low but sharp with anger. “What the hell is the Security Department even doing?!”
Xiao Huang glanced instinctively at Yuan Shiyuan before hurrying after Zhuang He.
Yuan Shiyuan’s intuition told him this matter concerned him. After whispering something to Chen Yin, he rose to follow, asking, “What’s going on?”
Zhuang He, realizing he couldn’t keep it secret any longer, explained directly, “Remember that account that tried to ride your coattails online, claiming to be your younger brother? They’ve created a new family account and are livestreaming, selling products while repeatedly mentioning you.”
It had started with a child posing as Yuan Shiyuan’s brother, getting into online arguments and damaging public opinion. The company didn’t tolerate this and immediately sued the account as a warning, publicly severing all ties.
Later, Yuan Shiyuan publicly stated in a livestream that he was indeed adopted and had a younger brother—the newest member of the W-1 Team. Yuan Shize immediately retweeted Yuan Shiyuan’s latest post from his official account, issuing a formal response.
This cross-industry collaboration generated considerable buzz for both of them, and they won the lawsuit. Yet the family, utterly shameless, created a new account called “Lin Hao’s Parents,” posting childhood photos of Yuan Shiyuan to “prove” their familial connection while selling products under his name during livestreams.
Despite facing criticism from fans, they continued to play the victim, their words dripping with resentment: “Yuan Shiyuan’s become famous and now looks down on us.”
Yuan Shiyuan had only recently joined Scepter when he landed a global ambassadorship for a top luxury brand—a status unparalleled in the entire entertainment industry. Sensing the buzz, numerous marketing accounts and media outlets proactively contacted the family, hoping to unearth juicier details.
Initially, the family contacted Starry Night Entertainment, their words smooth as silk, claiming they merely wanted to see Yuan Shiyuan. Zhuang He, having dealt with such types countless times, saw through their charade immediately: they were after money.
Their supposed desire to meet Yuan Shiyuan was likely a ploy to extort a settlement. While Zhuang He had no intention of giving in, he worried about distracting Yuan Shiyuan and the team during their busy schedule. He opted for a tough, behind-the-scenes negotiation.
For a while, the family remained quiet, leading Zhuang He to believe they’d finally gotten scared. But to his surprise, they brazenly stormed the company with reporters this time.
With Scepter about to release a new album and launch a concert tour, the timing seemed calculated. Zhuang He figured they wouldn’t dare escalate the situation.
Yuan Shiyuan understood. “Brother Zhuang, let me handle this, okay?”
He paused briefly, his voice soft yet carrying an unwavering resolve. “I’ll handle this once and for all.”
No wonder his family group chat had been so quiet lately. Normally, he would have sensed something amiss, but he’d been so swamped with album preparations and concert rehearsals that he barely had time to check his phone or respond to messages, let alone dwell on his family’s strange behavior.
Perhaps Yuan Xing and her husband had already been contacted and harassed. Knowing how busy he was preparing for his album and concerts, they probably hadn’t wanted to burden him with their worries, fearing it would disrupt his schedule.
“I requested the video from the A City Welfare Institute from when I was abandoned,” Zhuang He said, “though the quality is a bit blurry.”
Zhuang He had mentioned this earlier, and Yuan Shiyuan had made a mental note of it.
It was fortunate he’d been abandoned in A City. Had it been the Wenzhen Welfare Institute where he initially stayed, he might not have been able to obtain even the basic paperwork, let alone surveillance footage.
The A City Welfare Institute maintained comprehensive records and surveillance systems. When he was abandoned, staff members had taken him door-to-door to potential adoptive families. The entire process, including their being turned away at the door and the ensuing conversations, had been recorded on video.
The Lin family likely never imagined the welfare institute would record videos, let alone that Yuan Shiyuan would keep such a card up his sleeve.
The blurry video documenting his abandonment had now become his most direct and powerful weapon.
Zhuang He still advised Yuan Shiyuan against getting involved personally, fearing it would distract him. He reassured him, “Give me the video. We’ll handle it properly. You just focus on your work; leave everything else to us.”
From a selfish perspective, Zhuang He also didn’t want Yuan Shiyuan directly confronting that vampire-like family, worried they might latch onto him.
“I know the company can handle this more professionally,” Yuan Shiyuan said, looking up at him, his moist eyes pleading. “But if I address this directly, my fans will feel more at ease.”
“They love me, they trust me. Hearing these rumors, many are already speaking out in my defense. I want to put their minds at ease, to show them that the person they admire isn’t the monster the rumors paint him to be.”
“The person they trust deserves their affection.”
“Can I, Brother Zhuang?”
The Security Department mobilized nearly its entire force, forming an impenetrable human barrier in front of the company headquarters.
Surrounded by layers of vigilant bodyguards and flanked by five adoring S-rank alphas, Yuan Shiyuan descended the steps with deliberate composure.
The instant Yuan Shiyuan appeared, every reporter froze momentarily, stunned by his brazen public appearance amidst the storm of controversy.
Though the bodyguards held them back, they strained forward, arms outstretched, mics thrust desperately toward him.
“Mr. Yuan Shiyuan, what are your thoughts on the recent events?”
“Now that you’re famous, have you truly refused to acknowledge your original adoptive family?”
“Your adoptive parents claim they’ve been searching for you since you went missing, yet you haven’t visited them in years… How do you explain that?”
“……”
Yuan Shiyuan ignored the cacophony, his gaze locked onto two middle-aged men with shifty eyes in the crowd.
He’d thought he’d long forgotten their faces, but his cursedly sharp memory betrayed him. He recognized them instantly—the first family to adopt him.
The moment they saw Yuan Shiyuan, Lin Guocheng and Luo Zhen beamed with delight, immediately squeezing out tears. “Shiyuan, if we hadn’t been unable to reach you all this time, and you hadn’t refused to see us, your parents wouldn’t have made this trip… You won’t blame us, will you?”
Yuan Shiyuan’s expression remained unchanged. He was about to take a step forward when his wrist was suddenly gripped. He turned to meet Jiang Heng’s concerned, tense gaze.
He returned a reassuring smile. “It’s alright. Aren’t you all here? Nothing will go wrong.” He glanced around, noting that beyond the surrounding bodyguards, Jiang Heng and the others formed a natural protective barrier with their towering figures. Even if something unexpected did occur, these S-rank Alphas would be the first to step forward.
Ying Mingche abandoned his usual playful demeanor, his voice dropping to a serious whisper. “They registered a media company, clearly intending to force a response from you, capitalize on the negative publicity, and then sell merchandise. They’ve also been livestreaming sales online, riding your popularity.”
“They won’t get another chance,” Yuan Shiyuan said calmly.
He took a half-step forward, his gaze sweeping effortlessly across the cameras. Noticing some reporters were live-streaming, he smiled politely at the lenses.
Only then did he turn to the middle-aged men before him. “Excuse me, gentlemen, who are you?”
His expression was one of genuine confusion, as if he truly didn’t recognize them.
Lin Guocheng and Luo Zhen’s faces darkened instantly. “You’ve gotten famous and now you don’t recognize us? We raised you for so long!”
“Is that so?” Yuan Shiyuan smiled faintly. “If you were my first adoptive family, then it’s perfect. I’ve been looking for you as well.”
Before they could react, Yuan Shiyuan’s voice suddenly sharpened, each word striking like a hammer blow.
“According to our nation’s laws, abandonment is a criminal offense. You abandoned me when I was twelve. This debt needs to be settled properly.”
A collective gasp swept through the reporters as cameras instantly swiveled to focus on the two middle-aged men. Their faces paled slightly, and they rushed to deny the accusations. “Abandonment? What abandonment? You wandered off as a child, being mischievous! How can you blame us for that? We searched everywhere for you, but we never found you… Your younger brother still misses you dearly, you know.”
“My younger brother? He misses me?” Yuan Shiyuan scoffed as if hearing a particularly absurd joke. “When you abandoned me, your child had only just been born. How could a newborn infant possibly remember me?”
“Because you had your biological child, you made your adopted son sleep in the storeroom.”
“You complained about your adopted son’s underdeveloped glands, yet you couldn’t bear to give up the subsidy for his nutritional expenses. Did a single penny of the monthly allowance you claimed ever go toward me? Didn’t you use it all to buy formula for your biological son?”
“I didn’t even come looking for you to settle accounts, yet you’re the ones who came knocking first.” Yuan Shiyuan couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m genuinely curious: how can anyone be so shameless? Or perhaps you think I was too young back then to have any evidence.”
“Should I be afraid?” he feigned alarm, his expression suddenly turning icy. “The ones who should be afraid are you.”
Lin Guocheng and Luo Zhen instantly panicked.
They hadn’t expected Yuan Shiyuan’s attitude to be so uncompromising, daring to completely tear down the facade on camera!
Even they, who paid little attention to the entertainment industry, knew about Yuan Shiyuan’s sudden rise to fame. The more they watched him, the more he resembled the adopted child they’d abandoned years ago. After repeated comparisons, they were nearly certain, their regret and remorse growing.
If only they had known Yuan Shiyuan would become so successful and wealthy, they would have kept him all along.
After all, it was just an extra mouth to feed.
They just wanted to make some money. Their biological son, Lin Hao, wasn’t doing well in school and could only attend private institutions. Tuition fees and bribes were costing them a fortune. Yuan Shiyuan was, after all, Lin Hao’s elder brother in a sense… and they had raised Yuan Shiyuan for a time, however briefly.
So, wasn’t it only natural to expect some return for their trouble?
In their minds, Yuan Shiyuan had always been a docile, obedient child, easily manipulated. Besides, when they first adopted him, they had treated him reasonably well.
People always tend to romanticize their memories. Looking back, they even convinced themselves that they hadn’t treated Yuan Shiyuan too badly after all.
Luo Zhen and Lin Guocheng had never imagined Yuan Shiyuan’s memory could be so sharp. He remembered details even they had forgotten!
Still, they refused to admit they had mistreated him. Hadn’t they given him food and a place to sleep? Now that they had their own son and were planning to take in their aging parents, the house simply didn’t have any spare rooms.
Yuan Shiyuan was just an adopted child. Giving him the storeroom to live in was already more than enough. What else did he expect?
They weren’t worried about any of this. Yuan Shiyuan’s claims were unsubstantiated. But the “stipend” he mentioned… that was a different matter altogether.
Alphas and Omegas are entitled to welfare benefits, including monthly subsidies for gland-related illnesses and nutritional support for children. Yuan Shiyuan’s parents initially claimed substantial nutritional funds based on him, but they diverted the money to household expenses, never spending a cent on him.
After abandoning Yuan Shiyuan, they continued to secretly collect the subsidies for an extended period, exploiting loopholes in the paperwork they hadn’t yet canceled or reported.
These fraudulent claims were meticulously documented in official records, making them easily verifiable. Fraudulently claiming subsidies was illegal, requiring repayment of the funds and potentially leading to fines or criminal prosecution!
Lin Guocheng and Luo Zhen’s demeanor softened as they glanced at the surrounding cameras and swallowed hard.
They reached for Yuan Shiyuan’s arm. “Let’s not air our dirty laundry in public. How about we exchange contact information and discuss this privately…”
“Don’t touch me,” Yuan Shiyuan retorted. “I have my own family now, and it’s not you.”
Before they could make contact, Jiang Heng stepped forward to shield Yuan Shiyuan.
When a reckless reporter tried to get closer to photograph Yuan Shiyuan, Bo Jin slapped the camera away and coldly spat out a single word:
“Get lost.”
They seemed utterly indifferent to being on camera or being recorded, even brazenly glaring at the lenses as if silently daring:
“So what if you caught it? What can you even do?”
“You—!” Despite being S-rank Alphas themselves, Lin Guocheng and Luo Zhen turned deathly pale under the scorching sun, intimidated by the five towering S-rank Alphas flanking Yuan Shiyuan. Though they remained silent, their icy gazes served as a clear warning.
In stark contrast, Yuan Shiyuan, shielded at the center, smiled calmly, his composure unshakeable.
“As for contact information? I think we’ll pass.”
“You’d best get as far away as possible. Scram.”
A hush fell over the scene as every camera recorded this dramatic reversal. No one had anticipated Yuan Shiyuan’s direct intervention, especially with such a forceful stance.
The internet erupted in heated debate. Some netizens urged neutrality, arguing that the situation remained unclear, while others condemned Scepter’s atrocious attitude.
But then, the official account of the A City Welfare Institute released a video.
The grainy footage showed a caregiver in a welfare institute uniform leading a thin, fair-skinned boy by the hand. The boy clutched a small plush doll, standing timidly beside the adult.
He then raised his arm and gently pressed the door chime.
“Hello, your child was found wandering and brought to the welfare institute by a kind-hearted stranger…”
Before the staff member could finish speaking, a sharp voice from inside cut him off: “That’s not our child! We’ve never seen him before! We only have one child, and he’s perfectly fine, not missing at all!”
The door remained firmly shut.
Netizens soon compiled a comparison video. Lin Guocheng and his wife’s biological son, Lin Hao, was clearly only seven or eight years old, but thanks to excessive nourishment, he looked as robust as a child in his early teens. In stark contrast, the official video from the welfare institute showed Yuan Shiyuan as a frail, petite figure—despite being over ten, he was far less robust than the younger Lin Hao.
In the video, Xiao Yuanshiyuan tilted his clean, pale face upward, clutching a little plush doll in one hand while an adult held his other. He stared at the tightly closed door, his lips pressed into a thin line as tears streamed uncontrollably down his face, blurring most of his small features.
“What kind of people are these?!” A nearby caregiver couldn’t contain her anger. Another caregiver quickly scooped up Xiao Yuanshiyuan, coaxing him gently.
“Don’t cry, don’t cry. They don’t deserve to be your parents.”
Xiao Yuanshiyuan’s nose and the corners of his eyes were flushed pink from crying. At that time, he was still very thin. When the adult held him close, his frail body trembled softly against their shoulder, like a lone green leaf caught in a storm.
“You’re the one who doesn’t want them, sweet baby…”
The video ended.
Official documents from the A City Welfare Institute not only confirmed that Yuan Shiyuan had been maliciously abandoned, but also revealed medical records detailing the underdevelopment of his glands.
This condition qualified him for national nutrition subsidies, but the funds rightfully belonging to Yuan Shiyuan had been fraudulently claimed by others all along.
Those damned abandoners, may they all rot in hell!!
Was Little Yuan already twelve back then? He looks so small… I have an Omega brother who’s only ten, and he’s much stronger than Little Yuan looked!
Rewatched it again. Little Yuan really is so skinny and tiny, and he’s crying so heartbreakingly. As a mom-fan, I can’t take it—my heart is breaking. T.T
Just rewatched the livestream replay. Many people are saying Scepter was rude to the civilians? Uh, if it were me, I’d be even worse, honestly. And Little Yuan is genuinely innocent—abandoned, defrauded of his nutrition subsidies… What more do you want from him? If it were me, I’d already be plotting my revenge on society!
Little Yuan said he used to live in a storeroom. Is that why he’s afraid of the dark? Childhood trauma really can haunt you for life… [Sobbing]
Those abandoners have the nerve to try and leech off Little Yuan’s fame? Are they down to their last page in their household register? [Confused]
That damn idiot 666 even registered a company! He’s absolutely determined to bleed Little Yuan dry and make money off him, isn’t he?
Lin Guocheng and Luo Zhen had clearly planned this all along. They’d specifically registered a shell company in advance, hoping to ride Yuan Shiyuan’s coattails. But that very move backfired spectacularly. Enraged netizens swiftly swarmed their accounts and company information, obliterating their collaborations overnight and drowning them in lawsuits.
These ranged from the original abandonment charges and subsidy fraud to new allegations of extortion, defamation, and more…
Cornered and desperate, Lin Guocheng couldn’t fathom how he’d been completely blacklisted overnight, targeted by major corporations despite his initial partnerships.
After pulling every string and asking around, he finally learned he’d crossed a wealthy tycoon named Bo Jin.
Enraged and desperate, he took to the internet to whine and play the victim.
Lin Guocheng V: Are capitalists really this lawless now? Using their money and power to crush small businesses run by ordinary people like me, with elderly parents and young children to support? Are they trying to force me to starve and die?!
Lin Guocheng V: I’m @ing you directly! Do you dare admit it? @BoJin
An abandoned newborn has no right to speak online.
Small business? More like sucking Little Yuan dry! How shameless can you be?
Alright, I’m siding with the capitalist this time. Please kick this old bastard off the planet ASAP.
Soon after, the Weibo post was directly retweeted. Using his official account, Bo Jin responded with a single, terse line:
It was me. What are you going to do about it?
His arrogance was boundless.
Yet it sent waves of cathartic delight through Yuan Shiyuan’s supporters.
Backed by official documents, Lin Guocheng and his family’s abandonment of their child was now an irrefutable fact. Facing multiple lawsuits, they were headed for prison.
Multiple television stations ran continuous reports on Lin Guocheng’s crimes, fiercely condemning child abandonment and urging society to prioritize the protection of adopted children’s rights.
In the hospital corridor, televisions endlessly replayed these reports. Yu Jiao watched the news, suddenly bursting into tears with her husband.
Though the DNA test results were still pending, the news reports—each detail like a dull needle—repeatedly pierced her heart.
“He said… he’s been doing well all these years, and even wished me happiness,” Yu Jiao recalled the gentle greeting and response from the pink-haired youth at the autograph session. She closed her eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks again. “But his childhood was anything but happy…”
Abandoned, confined to a tiny room with no space to even stand. In his tenderest years, when he needed love most, he endured hardship and suffered repeated wounds.
With each additional thought, her heart ached so fiercely she could barely breathe.
Father Yu pulled his wife into a tight embrace, his deep voice choked with emotion, unable to form coherent words.
Yuan Xing and Father Yuan stood awkwardly to the side, feeling utterly helpless. They didn’t know how to comfort the distraught parents, only saying, “Before we adopted Little Yuan, he truly suffered greatly… But he never told us himself.”
“If the staff at the welfare institute hadn’t proactively informed us, we would have remained completely in the dark.”
Composing herself, Yu Jiao turned to Yuan Xing and her husband with earnest sincerity. “He’s been so happy since you adopted him. Meeting you both was his greatest blessing.”
Even though they weren’t yet certain if Yuan Shiyuan was their biological child, they couldn’t help but rejoice for him. Thank goodness, thank goodness Yuan Shiyuan found this loving family afterward.
“We were the lucky ones,” Yuan Xing said with a smile. “When we decided to adopt, Shiyuan caught our eye immediately. We don’t know why, but we were drawn to him instantly.”
“He brought us such joy when he became part of our family.”
Yuan Xing paused, then continued, “Little Yuan first stayed at a small welfare institute in Wenzhen. Coincidentally, the supplies your charity sent helped them. Later, the institute’s conditions improved significantly—all thanks to your family’s efforts.”
Yu Jiao froze, stunned.
Her family’s charitable work had been ongoing for so many years that she herself had lost track of which welfare institutes they had supported.
Just as Yu Jiao was about to press for more details, a group of medical staff rushed in, their expressions grave. They first looked at Yuan Xing and her husband, then turned their attention to Yu Jiao.
“The results are in. After multiple verifications…” The doctor handed over the documents, his voice clear and solemn. “Ms. Yu Jiao, based on the available samples and DNA analysis, and assuming no external interference such as identical twins… the evidence strongly supports the conclusion that you are Mr. Yuan Shiyuan’s biological mother.”
“Mr. Yuan Shiyuan is indeed your biological son.”
“So what if he’s not our biological son? We raised him for a while, didn’t we? The debt of nurture outweighs the debt of birth! Don’t you even understand that?!”
On the dimly lit alleyway late at night, Lin Guocheng snarled into his phone, his face twisted with rage. “That ungrateful bastard…”
He abruptly cut himself off.
Deep in the alley, a tall, languid figure leaned against the wall. Despite making no visible move, it radiated an inexplicable sense of menace.
Lin Guocheng instinctively retreated, but the figure moved.
“Hello~ Could you tell me how to get to this place?” The Alpha, hooded and blocking his path with deliberate slowness, held up his phone and grinned.
Lin Guocheng, in a foul mood, had no patience for directions. He gestured vaguely, not caring if it was right, just wanting to escape.
“Oh? Is it this way?” The Alpha suddenly leaned in close, peering into Lin Guocheng’s face with an exaggerated smile. “What were you saying just now… ‘ungrateful bastard’?”
“Who were you talking about?”
“What the hell does it have to do with you? Are you out of your mind…?” Lin Guocheng cursed, his face twisted with humiliation and fury. Before he could finish, a brutal fist slammed into his abdomen.
Lin Guocheng’s internal organs twisted into knots as searing pain exploded through him. He doubled over, coughing up a mouthful of acidic bile. Another fist followed, smashing into his face. His teeth tore into the soft flesh of his inner cheek, filling his mouth with the coppery tang of blood.
“Should’ve been this cooperative from the start.”
Under the streetlamp’s harsh glare, Ying Mingche’s blood-streaked face appeared deathly pale. He flicked a drop of blood from his fingertip with a casual flick, his eyes smiling as he gazed down at the middle-aged man cowering on the ground.
“Had to make me go through the motions, find a proper excuse.”
Lin Guocheng trembled violently with pain, backing away step by step, his moans of agony spilling from his lips. The moment his back touched the wall, Ying Mingche seized his collar and delivered another vicious blow to his ribs.
“Ungrateful bastard,” Ying Mingche spat, repeating each word with venomous emphasis. He chuckled darkly. “Why does this make me so angry?”
“Y-you’re…” Lin Guocheng finally recognized Ying Mingche’s face, his pupils dilating in shock. They had seen each other that day!
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell everyone? You’re a public figure—how dare you attack someone?”
“Wow, I’m so scared,” Ying Mingche drawled, arching an eyebrow with exaggerated mockery. He flashed Lin Guocheng a chilling smile. “That’s precisely why I need to deal with you completely… right now.”
Lin Guocheng froze for a moment, staring at the Alpha’s smiling face as a chill crawled up his spine.
He stammered, begging for mercy, then seized the opportunity to shove Ying Mingche aside and bolt, scrambling on all fours toward the alley exit.
But he froze mid-stride.
At the other end of the alley stood an identical figure.
Ying Mingxi had shed all pretense of gentleness. Clutching a metal baseball bat, the cold moonlight cast his features into icy relief as he advanced silently, step by step.
Lin Guocheng stumbled back two steps, glancing fearfully over his shoulder. There stood Ying Mingche, blood smeared across his face, yet grinning brilliantly.
Overwhelmed by sheer terror, his nerves shattered, he fainted on the spot.
“Tsk, is that all? How boring.”
Ying Mingche kicked Lin Guocheng, who lay limp as a dead dog, as if he were filthy. Still, he grabbed the man by the collar, dragging him like a piece of trash deeper into the alley to a basement entrance.
The basement was dimly lit, the air thick with a stale, oppressive atmosphere. A door creaked open, and faint screams and sobs of terror drifted from the adjoining room.
Ying Mingxi, his face impassive, tossed Lin Guocheng into a cramped, windowless room.
“The darkness Shiyuan tasted as a child…” he murmured, “now, it’s yours.”
Having finished his task, Ying Mingxi calmly pulled out a wet wipe and meticulously wiped the blood from his fingers.
At that moment, footsteps echoed from behind.
Bo Jin had arrived. He exchanged a glance with the Ying brothers, then turned and stepped into the small, claustrophobic room.
Inside, it was virtually a completely sealed black box.
The suffocatingly cramped space reeked of dampness and mildew. Darkness pressed in from all sides, swallowing every sound, leaving no trace of light.
In the oppressive silence, even the sound of one’s own breathing and heartbeat amplified into nerve-shattering, terrifying noises.
Standing alone in the darkness, Bo Jin slowly closed his eyes, trying to imagine Yuan Shiyuan’s childhood terror.
He tried to picture young Yuan Shiyuan confined in such a room, utterly alone, and how he must have endured it.
Would little Yuan Shiyuan have curled up in a corner, hugging his knees and crying?
Would he have been too afraid to sleep?
Would he have spent every night yearning for companionship, only to be met by deeper darkness?