Pretending to Be an Alpha in an All-Alpha Boy Band - Chapter 96
Chapter 96: Pink
This corn sausage is getting more and more out of control. [Eye roll]
All he ever talks about is “Mai, Mai, Mai, Mai, Mai”! He totally deserves to be massacred in Dream A’s plaza. [Nose pick]
Go on, “Mai” away. You’ll end up begging for an A to take you for granted. [Laughing loudly]
Ying Mingche set the tone, and the danmaku surged like a runaway wild horse, galloping into unspeakable territory.
The chat descended into a full-blown rumor mill, with fans passionately creating and sharing increasingly outrageous content. The screen was flooded with asterisks and censored symbols, rendering the mega screen utterly unwatchable.
The livestream was immediately banned by the platform.
Zhuang He, his patience exhausted, wanted to smack Ying Mingche upside the head, but he hesitated, fearing he’d ruin the man’s freshly styled hair.
“I understand you need to promote,” Zhuang He hissed, keeping his voice low. “The company practically salivates over you guys selling bromance… but could you dial it back a little? You’re the most blatant one! Every time you stir things up, the livestream gets banned!”
Zhuang He had hoped to use this broadcast to showcase Scepter’s daily preparations before their autograph session, bridging the gap between the group and their fans.
Ying Mingche, on the other hand, had thrown caution to the wind in his eagerness to hype the livestream. The broadcast’s viewership had indeed surged, and the audience had gone wild (even if it was all industrial-grade saccharine), but the livestream had been shut down entirely!
“Where did I sell out?” Ying Mingche protested, turning to Yuan Shiyuan beside him. “This was a genuine outpouring of emotion, an irresistible urge, straight from the heart. You understand me, right?”
Yuan Shiyuan replied dryly, “I’m laughing.”
“What’s so funny? I’m being serious,” Ying Mingche insisted. “Can’t you feel it?”
“Mhm, mhm, I can feel it,” Yuan Shiyuan said dismissively.
The more Yuan Shiyuan ignored him, the more Ying Mingche perked up. If the stylist hadn’t been holding him back, he would have already rushed over to Yuan Shiyuan, wagging his tail like an eager puppy.
Zhuang He spoke gravely, “You need to rein in your marketing antics. How many times has your plaza been slaughtered online? Don’t you understand the consequences?”
“My plaza’s been a lost cause for ages!” Ying Mingche declared shamelessly, even taking pride in it. “Princess Yuanyuan’s ‘dream A’ alpha fans see me as a thorn in their side precisely because they’re losing their minds!”
Those clowns can only vent their impotent rage by slaughtering my plaza online. In reality, they can’t even touch Yuan Shiyuan’s little finger.
He couldn’t be bothered to argue with these losers.
Seizing the moment while the livestream was temporarily blocked, Zhuang He rubbed his temples. “Perfect timing. I need to discuss two urgent matters with you all.”
“An account claiming to be Shiyuan’s younger brother has surfaced online. Shiyuan, do you even have a younger brother?”
“Yeah,” Yuan Shiyuan replied. “But my brother would never post anything about me online. He’s always busy—busy with his competitions.”
After a moment’s thought, he added, “He’s on the W-1 Team.”
Zhuang He’s eyes widened in surprise. “Your brother’s that good? Isn’t that one of the hottest esports teams right now?”
“Mm-hmm, he’s alright, I guess,” Yuan Shiyuan said modestly, though his expression radiated pride and smug satisfaction.
“Then it’s definitely a fake,” Zhuang He declared. “Some little brat’s been bragging online about being your brother and arguing with people… Since he’s not actually your brother, handling this should be straightforward.”
Yuan Shiyuan paused, then asked, “How old is he?”
“Around eleven or twelve, I think? Anyway, not very old.”
“Ah, I see,” Yuan Shiyuan nodded, his voice betraying no emotion. “He’s no relation of mine. Handle him as you see fit.”
Zhuang He sensed something amiss. “You know him?”
Jiang Heng frowned and cut in, “Brother Zhuang…”
“There’s nothing to hide,” Yuan Shiyuan said calmly. Cooperating with the company would expedite the matter. “If I’m not mistaken, he’s likely the biological son of my first adoptive family. They’d always wanted a child of their own but couldn’t conceive, so they adopted me.”
“Soon after adopting me, they had their own child, and I was abandoned.”
Yuan Shiyuan spoke with disarming lightness. As soon as his words fell, the entire makeup room fell silent, save for the dull hum of the air conditioner’s outdoor unit.
The makeup artist’s brush froze mid-air as she stared at him in disbelief.
They all knew Yuan Shiyuan had a close, enviable relationship with his family.
Sometimes during work breaks, Yuan Shiyuan would slip away to take phone calls, his voice softening into a coquettish tone when speaking to them—clearly very affectionate.
None of them had ever imagined he carried such a forsaken past.
Their gazes slowly shifted from shock to a complex mix of sympathy and heartache. “You…”
Yuan Shiyuan smiled. “Why the long faces? Enough already.”
“It’s all in the past. I’m very happy now.”
Seeing Yuan Shiyuan’s nonchalant demeanor, as if the matter held no weight, only deepened the Alphas’ unease.
Yuan Shiyuan was always like this—sharing only good news and never burdening them with his worries. He never actively brought up his past sorrows. Even when he did speak of them, he’d cherry-pick the details, sharing only the most trivial ones.
Bo Jin had thought he already knew many of Yuan Shiyuan’s secrets, but now he realized there were still many hidden corners he had yet to explore.
In those unseen corners, Yuan Shiyuan seemed to have endured countless hardships alone, like a cat accustomed to licking its wounds in solitude, bearing pain with stoic resilience.
Feeling uncomfortable under their intense scrutiny, Yuan Shiyuan deliberately changed the subject. “Brother Zhuang, didn’t you say there was a second matter?”
“Right, we’ve made progress on the theft of your belongings.”
Zhuang He spoke solemnly. “After a long investigation, we discovered the culprit was a notorious celebrity paparazzi, specializing in digging up dirt on A-list stars and extorting companies for astronomical hush money. This guy’s highly skilled—he wears many hats and possesses a wide range of talents. We suspect he infiltrated the company through outsourcing.”
Yuan Shiyuan tried to recall that day. Surely the paparazzi didn’t capture anything compromising, did he? He hadn’t done anything scandalous, so if they got photos, they got photos, he figured.
Ying Mingche piped up, “He didn’t photograph us kissing, did he?”
Yuan Shiyuan: “?”
Did they even kiss back then? Maybe a peck on the cheek at most?
Whether it was the endorsement shoot or the store closing event, Bo Jin had been present. When could they have kissed?
“You two kissed? When?” Yuan Shiyuan’s gaze sharpened.
Ying Mingche leaned back lazily, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “That’s none of your business.”
Zhuang He nearly jumped out of his seat. “You kissed?!”
“You didn’t take your practice seriously, did you?” He paced frantically, only to find Yuan Shiyuan unfazed. “Don’t do that again!”
Zhuang He had assumed their practice sessions involved rehearsing lines, maybe a brotherly hug at most. If a kiss was required, they could fake it with clever angles.
Has it been that long already? How did they actually kiss?
“That’s not the point,” Yuan Shiyuan said, changing the subject. “What happened next? Did the reporter contact the company? What did he film?”
“Nothing particularly incriminating. Just some shots of you and the other members with your backs to the camera, arms around each other’s shoulders and looking close. Nothing too scandalous; internal camaraderie among the members is nothing to worry about,” Zhuang He paused, pulled out his iPad, and projected the screen. “The real problem is the video.”
“I’m so curious…”
“Why did Nan Liujing from the Necro Boy Group confess his feelings to you?”
Yuan Shiyuan groaned in exasperation, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, unsure how to explain.
“I have no idea what’s gotten into him…”
“Ximi Entertainment probably has the video too. They’ll definitely pay a fortune to keep it quiet,” Zhuang He said. “Should we get involved?”
“Let them handle it. Not worth wasting our money,” Yuan Shiyuan said. “Let Ximi Entertainment foot the bill.”
Bo Jin and Ying Mingche, who were both present, showed little outward reaction. They didn’t seem surprised, though their brows furrowed in unison, as if recalling something distasteful or repulsive.
Ying Mingxi took in everyone’s reactions and suddenly chuckled. “Looks like a lot of interesting things happened while I was away.”
“I can understand him confessing to you. Our little darling Shiyuan is truly beautiful—no wonder Alphas are so drawn to him.” Zhuang He reached out to casually pat Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulder, then quickly retracted his hand.
He suddenly remembered that Yuan Shiyuan was now an Omega.
Seeing Yuan Shiyuan surrounded by a group of burly Alphas, like a lamb among wolves, filled the middle-aged Alpha with an unsettling silence.
When Yuan Shiyuan was still an Alpha, Zhuang He had found the scene perfectly harmonious, even aesthetically pleasing—the contrast in size and skin tone quite pleasing to the eye.
Now that Yuan Shiyuan had differentiated into an Omega, watching the other Alphas touch him—stroking his face, teasing his hair, pulling him into embraces—filled Zhuang He with an unsettling sense of lewdness.
Even after differentiating into an Omega, Yuan Shiyuan seemed to retain his Alpha mindset, completely unconcerned by the Alphas’ advances and intimate contact, as if it were perfectly normal.
To Zhuang He’s utter astonishment, Yuan Shiyuan had even kissed some of the team members without his knowledge!
He understood this was for practice, but if they could kiss now, what would come next?
Zhuang He’s head swam, his thoughts a chaotic jumble. The group I’m managing… they’re supposed to be a proper boy group, right?
“First, let’s go over the schedule for today’s autograph session. There will be interviews and games before the signing session itself. It’s going to be intense, so make sure you all rest well on the bus to stay in top form.”
After a moment’s thought, Zhuang He said, “During the interview, we’ll have the host ask about your younger brother… Would you be comfortable publicly acknowledging his status as a professional gamer? It might even spark some cross-industry buzz.”
“No problem,” Yuan Shiyuan replied.
People had long speculated about whether they knew each other or were related. After all, both were hotshots in their respective fields, and their names differed by only one character.
Yuan Shize had wanted to come clean and go public, but Yuan Shiyuan worried that black fans and obsessive admirers would target his brother, so he had asked him to keep quiet.
Now, the situation had changed. He needed to publicly acknowledge Yuan Shize first to prevent his brother’s identity from being claimed by someone else.
Ying Mingche leaned closer, draping an arm casually over Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulder, and chuckled. “Your dream A fans are going to lose it again.”
“Are you all out of your minds?!”
“Out of the blue, you confessed to Yuan Shiyuan? And got it recorded? I’m managing a boy group, not running a film set for your wife-chasing crematorium script!”
Ximi Entertainment, office. The manager of the Necro Boy Group, having reached his breaking point, hurled a stack of documents across the room.
The papers scattered across the floor, but Nan Liujing, sprawled on the sofa, didn’t even glance at them. “How much does he want? Just pay him.”
Isn’t this all about money? These paparazzi will sell out anything if the price is right.
“Is this about money?!” The manager had been holding this in for ages. “You’ve been completely out of it lately. What’s going through your head? And you two, Su Luochen and Yue Xiao—you’re truly loyal brothers, aren’t you? Ganging up to boost Yuan Shiyuan’s sales?”
“Do you even realize they’re our rival group?! What the hell are you doing?!”
Nan Liujing suddenly snapped his head up, his eyes bloodshot. “I know exactly what I’m doing! I just… I love him! I’ll say it a hundred times—I still love him! I just realized it too late. If I’d known sooner, maybe… maybe there could have been a chance…”
“A chance my ass! Stop deluding yourself,” the manager sneered coldly. “Starry Night Entertainment doesn’t give a damn about this. They don’t care if the video leaks. Yuan Shiyuan probably knows about it too. You’re nothing to him, yet you’re still fantasizing.”
Truth stings, and Nan Liujing’s face darkened. “He used to treat me so well…”
Yue Xiao interjected coolly, “You said it yourself—used to.”
Su Luochen sneered coldly, “Why don’t you invent a time machine and go back to your ‘good old days’?”
Perhaps because Ximi Entertainment hadn’t responded to reporters quickly enough, the company soon received a new email. The manager clicked on the video attachment, her eyelid twitching. “I can’t believe this! What the hell are you two doing?”
“Yue Xiao, you actually knelt down to lick Yuan Shiyuan’s feet? You… you guys are unbelievable! I give up!”
“You might as well rename the group ‘Yuan Shiyuan’s Spare Tires’!”
Su Luochen shrugged indifferently. “If the company’s okay with it, I don’t mind.”
The manager nearly exploded with fury, taking several deep breaths.
“The captain’s returning home soon. Be careful,” she warned, glaring at Su Luochen. “And you, Su Luochen—keep your nose clean. I’ll handle the Yue Xiao and Nan Liujing video. You better not pull any shady stunts behind my back or tell me you’re secretly in love with Yuan Shiyuan too.”
Su Luochen’s expression was comically exaggerated, as if he’d heard the most absurd joke of all time. “Ha? Me? Having a crush on him? As if!”
He chuckled derisively. “Ridiculous. Me, crushing on Yuan Shiyuan?”
“Remember what you said.”
Su Luochen feigned nonchalance, casting a casual glance at Nan Liujing, who looked like a stray dog. He felt a surge of satisfaction.
Nan Liujing used to flaunt how well Yuan Shiyuan treated him all the time. Now he’s getting what he deserves.
Serves him right.
Eager to share his smug satisfaction, Su Luochen surreptitiously pulled out his mobile phone and posted on the forum:
User S: So satisfying.
Comments flooded in immediately:
– Brother Snake’s feeling smug again, huh?
– Just finished jerking off to Little Yuan’s livestream?
– Are you going to the autograph signing later, Brother Snake?
User S: Why would I go to the autograph signing? I’m not a fan.
Su Luochen had a packed schedule later.
He repeatedly checked his itinerary, confirming there was no time to spare. He sent a message to his assistant.
Su Luochen: Go to this address later and get a personalized autograph for me.
[Address]
[Invitation]
Assistant: ??
Isn’t that Yuan Shiyuan’s autograph signing?!
At the autograph session, the interactive segment had just begun.
The host’s eyes lit up when she saw Yuan Shiyuan. “Shiyuan, you look absolutely stunning today! Your hair has grown so long too!”
Noticing the silk scarf tied at the end of Yuan Shiyuan’s hair, she complimented, “That scarf is such a perfect touch!”
Before Yuan Shiyuan could respond, Bo Jin, sitting beside him, smirked with secret satisfaction.
He had personally chosen the scarf for Yuan Shiyuan and tied it himself.
“Thank you,” Yuan Shiyuan replied with a radiant smile. “Your earrings are exquisite as well.”
The host laughed and touched her earrings, then turned to the other seated Alphas. “And the other members look incredibly handsome too!”
LOL, this host is amazing. Praising Little Yuan to high heaven, down to the details of his scarf, while to the other Alphas: “Oh, you’re handsome too.”
No wonder, my Yuan is just that gorgeous. Smug
Though Little Yuan hasn’t cut his hair in ages, it’s gotten really long now. Is he letting it grow on purpose?
“The fans here are so enthusiastic! They’ve written down so many fun game requests. Let’s see what we draw first—”
The host drew a card and flipped it over. “Let’s see what our first mini-game is!”
The audience peered at the card.
The host read aloud a private message received on Weibo:
*When Pei Yanbing opened his account, he clicked on the topmost private message, his gaze pausing for a moment, a hint of hesitation in his eyes.
But in his signature cold, emotionless voice, he read aloud: “When are Little Yuan and the captain gonna have a baby? Hurry, hurry, hurry!”*
Pei Yanbing’s naturally icy expression and toneless delivery created a stark contrast with the absurd message, sending the fans into fits of laughter.
Ying Mingche draped an arm around Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulder, mercilessly shattering fans’ fantasies. “Forget it, it’s never happening. Our Princess Yuanyuan isn’t having any babies.”
The host chuckled.
Next up was Ying Mingche. He opened his private messages and read aloud with annoyance: “‘Corn sausage, go die! Stop selling it!’ What corn sausage? Have we ever sold corn sausage?”
“When did our group ever get a commercial endorsement for corn sausage?”
WC! I’m about to die laughing!
—Alright, corn sausage vendors, please contact business affairs directly!
—When will I ever see “corn sausage” without bursting into laughter? Who even came up with that genius name?! [Facepalm]
The private messages the others read aloud were largely the same—mostly fantasies from CP fans.
But when Yuan Shiyuan’s turn came, the atmosphere shifted abruptly.
Clutching his mobile phone, Yuan Shiyuan clearly had the private messages open, but his brows suddenly furrowed, then relaxed, as if he were simultaneously disgusted, shocked, and conflicted.
He glanced at the camera, blinked slowly, and said hesitantly, “Um… how do I put this?”
“It’s an image, so I can’t read it aloud,” he said tactfully.
The host assumed it was a meme or something similar. “If it’s an image, you can just describe it.”
“Ah…” Yuan Shiyuan’s expression turned blank, his face even more strained. “Describe it? No, I’d rather not.”
Could it really be that difficult to describe?
Ying Mingche sensed something was off. He leaned over to take a look, his brow furrowing deeply. “Holy shit,” he blurted out.
The platform immediately muted him.
The other Alphas, sensing something amiss, crowded around Yuan Shiyuan. When they saw the screen, their expressions darkened dramatically.
Bo Jin’s face was grim as he scrolled through the private messages, revealing a flood of obscene photos from countless Alphas. Many were clearly watching the livestream, aware that Yuan Shiyuan might see their messages, and relentlessly creating fake accounts to bombard him with filth.
“Let’s just skip Shiyuan’s private messages,” Ying Mingxi said gently. “It’s really not appropriate.”
The more Bo Jin thought about it, the angrier he became. He leaned close to Yuan Shiyuan’s ear and whispered, “Should I block these people for you?”
Yuan Shiyuan nodded slightly.
Bo Jin, his expression conflicted, began blocking accounts, but he soon realized it was an impossible task. Like hyenas scenting carrion, countless accounts continued to flood Yuan Shiyuan with harassing messages.
The frenzy was appalling, the depravity bordering on madness.
Holy shit, my company actually let Little Yuan see his Weibo DMs?
Who doesn’t know Little Yuan’s DMs are a goddamn orgy, every A vying for his attention like birds flocking to a phoenix? So many dream As were just itching to spread their wings like eagles. They knew Little Yuan never checked his DMs, but now that there was a chance he might see them—and in front of a global audience, no less—every horny A in the world was rushing to get in on the action.
That A who got blocked must be thrilled. Being blocked means Little Yuan definitely opened their page and saw their message. Imagining myself in their shoes… I’d be in ecstasy.
The expressions on these As are hilarious! Aaaaaah!
Little Yuan’s expression is so cute too! He started out clueless, then got all disgusted but too shy to show it, trying so hard to maintain his composure in front of the camera. He’s too adorable! I could just eat him up in one bite!
The livestream’s viewership continued to skyrocket, the mini-game heating up the atmosphere to a fever pitch.
Even the audience seats were buzzing with excitement.
The host immediately steered the show into the next segment: “Let’s see what the next mini-game is… Oh?”
She deliberately dragged out her words, creating an air of boastfulness. “You’ll send one representative to draw a card. Each card contains fanfiction meticulously crafted by fans for you all. The protagonist and plot are randomly selected.”
“Your task is to reenact the scene described on the card live.”
“Who will be the representative?”
All the S-rank Alphas unanimously turned to Yuan Shiyuan.
Yuan Shiyuan stepped forward and drew a card, showing it to the camera. “It’s fanfiction about me and Brother Bo Jin.”
Ying Mingche: “Huh? People actually write fanfiction about you and Bo Jin?”
Bo Jin raised an eyebrow. “What does it say?”
Yuan Shiyuan moved closer to Bo Jin, their shoulders nearly touching, and leaned down to read the fanfiction’s contents together. “It’s a pretty simple scene. I’m supposed to fall into your arms and say a couple of lines.”
The selected passage struck a perfect balance, preserving suggestive ambiguity without crossing the line into vulgarity.
The fanfiction seemed to tell the story of how straight-A Alpha Bo Jin was gradually “bent” by Yuan Shiyuan. Despite knowing the latter was also an Alpha, Bo Jin couldn’t resist being seduced and drawn in, his rationality crumbling piece by piece.
“Brother Bo Jin, shall we start now?” Yuan Shiyuan asked, having meticulously rehearsed his few lines several times.
Bo Jin sat cooperatively on the sofa, delivering his lines with cold certainty: “I could never like an Alpha.”
“Never like an Alpha?”
Yuan Shiyuan chuckled, melting softly into Bo Jin’s embrace. As he reached up to loop his arms around Bo Jin’s neck, Bo Jin instinctively wrapped his arms around Yuan Shiyuan’s waist, drawing him even closer.
The movement flowed with astonishing smoothness, as if they had rehearsed it a thousand times.
“Hey, hey, wait a minute!” the host laughed. “Bo Jin’s supposed to push Shiyuan away! Why are you wrapping your arms around him and holding him so tightly?”
Only then did Bo Jin release his hold, his tone utterly flat: “Oh, it was just a reflex.”
A reflex? Huh?! You can make a move like that out of reflex?!
Can someone please explain how their movements can be so natural? So seamless?
Little Yuan melts into Brother Huo’s arms with such practiced ease, and Brother Huo catches him around the waist just as smoothly… I bet they do this all the time in private.
Mhm, mhm, mhm! Little Yuan and Brother Huo are doing it every day! [Grinning face]
The brief performance ended quickly.
He swiftly lifted himself out of Bo Jin’s embrace, settling back into his own seat, knees pressed neatly together, his posture perfectly obedient.
The host chuckled, pressing him further, “So, what do you think of the fanfic?”
Reading it privately was one thing; performing it publicly was another. Yuan Shiyuan hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Hmm, it’s very well-written. The fan has real literary talent.”
Then, as if to mask his embarrassment, he lowered his head and let out two dry, awkward “ha ha” laughs.
Bo Jin, on the other hand, remained completely unfazed. He’d already read and even tipped this fanfic.
“Excellent work,” he declared, completely satisfied. “Keep writing.”
The audience erupted in another wave of laughter.
The host chuckled as well. “It seems the audience wholeheartedly agrees!”
“The next card we’ve drawn is a fan question. One of our viewers is curious: why did you dye your hair pink?” The host leaned forward, equally curious. “It’s quite rare to see Alphas with pink hair.”
Yuan Shiyuan explained, “I was volunteering at a welfare institute and met a child with albinism. She wanted to dye her hair black, like everyone else.”
“When I asked why, she said she wanted to fit in and not be seen as different. Later, when I asked her what her favorite color was, she said pink.”
“That’s why I dyed my hair pink,” Yuan Shiyuan said. “I didn’t have any ulterior motives. I just wanted her to see what her favorite color would look like on her hair, and whether it might be more worthy of her affection than the black she’d chosen to blend in.”
Yuan Shiyuan’s status as a student at A University wasn’t a secret, and A University maintained an official public account documenting volunteer activities. Based on Yuan Shiyuan’s statement, fans immediately located the specific details of the volunteer event in question.
In the video, a fresh-faced, youthful Yuan Shiyuan—still with his black hair—was bending down to speak to a young albino girl.
“Why do you want to dye your hair black?” he asked gently.
“I want to be like everyone else. If I look like everyone else, I won’t be weird.”
“But you’re not weird at all! You’re special. Among all the children here, you were the first one I noticed—like a little angel.” Yuan Shiyuan gently stroked the back of the girl’s head and asked softly, “Besides black, there are so many beautiful colors in the world. When you grow up and want to dye your hair, you should choose the color you love, not the one that makes you fit in.”
“What’s your favorite color?”
The girl thought for a long time before finally answering, “I like pink!”
The next day, Yuan Shiyuan arrived at the welfare institute for his volunteer work, his vibrant pink hair immediately catching the eye. As the little girl gazed in wonder, he crouched down, lowered his head, letting her examine every strand of his pink hair.
“Is this the kind of pink you like? See, your favorite color is especially, especially beautiful.”
The video clip quickly went viral online.
The host was deeply moved. “I never imagined there was such a reason behind this. It seems our Shiyuan has been doing charity work since his school days. The children all seem to recognize you and are very fond of you.”
“Sometimes my family joins me,” Yuan Shiyuan said with a smile, his tone softening noticeably when he spoke of his family. “My parents are passionate about charity work and often take us along. Perhaps because we visit frequently, the children recognize me and feel comfortable around me.”
The host asked curiously, “Is Shiyuan an only child?”
“I have a younger brother, about my age,” Yuan Shiyuan paused, winking at the camera. “You might know him—he’s currently on the W-1 Team. Although we’re both adopted, we’re very close and have parents who love us dearly.”
“We’re very happy.”
In the front row of the audience, a masked woman suddenly gripped the armrest tightly.
Her eyes remained fixed on the pink-haired youth beaming brightly on stage, her mind buzzing with repeated words:
Adopted…
Very happy…
A large, warm hand covered the back of her own.
“Did you hear that? He said he was adopted…” Yu Jiao’s voice trembled with disbelief as she murmured, “Sijing always said he had a loving family in A City, and that his parents adored him. I thought it was just another false hope, but he said he was adopted!”
Father Yu gripped his wife’s hand tightly, his deep voice choked with emotion.
“I heard it too, I heard it too.” Though his emotions surged, he tried to reassure her. Yet the tremor in their clasped hands betrayed their shared fear.
They had endured too many disappointments. Now that hope had finally arrived, that very hope became the source of their dread.
“I’m afraid it’s not him, yet I’m terrified it is him…” Yu Jiao whispered. “Do you understand me?”
“I understand,” Father Yu said quietly, after calming himself. “I understand.”
The two moles at the corner of Yuan Shiyuan’s eye had once caught Yu Sijing’s attention, making him linger two seconds longer at first glance. But later, when Yu Sijing deliberately probed about Yuan Shiyuan’s family, learning that he had a happy home and was a local of A City, he knew it was highly unlikely that Yuan Shiyuan was the person they were looking for.
It was likely just another coincidence.
When Yu Sijing told Yu Jiao the news, she happened to be home, receiving a package from the boutique containing the items Yu Sijing had ordered during their closing event. The package contained not only haute couture jewelry and ready-to-wear garments, but also promotional posters and merchandise featuring their brand ambassador.
In the photos, the pink-haired youth’s eyes curved into crescents when he smiled, his pupils shining brightly. Amber eyes brimming with gentle laughter, the upward curve of his brows mirrored the naive, clear-eyed infant they remembered so vividly.
“Should we investigate?” Father Yu’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his voice growing increasingly dry. “Should we… should we really investigate?”
With their resources, thoroughly investigating someone’s background would be child’s play.
Yet without permission, such an intrusion would be a violation of privacy. No one would want their personal life laid bare, especially when the person in question seemed to be living a peaceful and happy life.
The closer they got to the truth, the more panicked they became, wanting to proceed with caution, terrified of making a misstep that might alienate him.
Now, they had to confront several cruel but undeniable realities.
If Yuan Shiyuan truly was their long-lost child, how would he react if they investigated his family history without his knowledge?
Now that Yuan Shiyuan’s family life is happy and fulfilled, would he even spare a glance back at them?
Would their reappearance be an unnecessary intrusion on Yuan Shiyuan’s current state of perfection and happiness?
They had never abandoned their search, even as hope was dashed time and again. Their longing for their child’s return burned undimmed, day after day.
If Yuan Shiyuan truly is their long-lost child, does he harbor the same emotions and desires, longing for a reunion with his family?