Chapter 21: Dark-Skinned Rugged Honest Man 21

Jiang Rang rarely bothered to speculate about social classes or power dynamics. As an utterly ordinary person, such things felt far too remote from his life.

Even after spending time by Qi Yu’s side and gaining some worldly experience, the backroom deals, cutthroat intrigues, and glittering opulence still seemed like scenes from a TV drama—entertaining, but utterly detached from reality.

In the end, none of it had anything to do with him.

This was the first time the young man had faced the crushing weight of power so directly.

Jiang Rang suddenly realized that in the eyes of those nobles, blood ties and family bonds were nothing more than fragile links in a chain of interests. A lowly commoner like him didn’t even deserve basic human dignity.

So what if he’d saved their precious young master? They could wipe the slate clean with a single card, light as a feather.

They loomed forever above him, blind to Jiang Rang as a person. They offered no respect, seeing only his physique, his looks, and his utility as a bedroom plaything.

It was absurd, yet it made perfect, chilling sense.

Jiang Rang had never felt so exhausted. His mind was a tangled snarl of threads he couldn’t unravel.

Deep down, the beta knew better than anyone that this dazzling, coveted Central City had never been a place for him.

In that moment, he yearned more than ever for his days in the countryside. The labor had been grueling, but A Liu had been there to comfort him. In their downtime, the local guys would call him over for chess and drinks. None of them were educated, full of tall tales and wild boasts, with zero concept of class distinctions.

They laughed heartily and carried on without a care. Back then, Jiang Rang could be thrilled for an entire day over a wildflower plucked by the roadside or a rabbit or bird snared in a trap.

His footsteps halted beside the neon-lit skyscrapers, where the crowds had long dispersed and the night had deepened.

The sky hung low with clouds like raven feathers blotting out the moonlight, but the young man could still make out the tall, slender silhouette standing by the street.

Perhaps sensing eyes on him, the dark figure turned.

The man wore the trench coat Jiang Rang had meant to give A Liu. His thick, jet-black hair cascaded over his shoulders, stray strands by his cheek dancing in the cold wind against the retro red of his lips. At the sight of the beta, those narrow, cool eyes flickered with sudden awareness.

Jiang Rang watched the man’s lips move, guessing he was calling his name.

He knew he should go over, but his ankles felt glued to the unnaturally smooth, pitch-black pavement.

He remembered the Male Master’s grace in taking him in—and the way he’d once planned to use him as a stud.

In a flash of overlapping shadows, Qi Yu’s hungry, ambition-fueled gaze merged with Chen Yanyu’s mocking, superior smirk, drilling into his mind. They fused into a single black shadow, brooding and oppressive, enveloping the young man.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been standing there lost in thought?”

The Male Master’s lips curved in a faint smile. He seemed in high spirits, utterly pleased—like a hunter who’d bagged his prized quarry.

But the beta’s expression was rigid. After a long silence, he asked softly, “Mister… do you know Chen Yanyu?”

Qi Yu’s dark brows paused for an instant. He turned to the young man, his voice smooth and impeccable. “I do. He’s the eldest son of the Chen Family. Chen Jingxu is his younger brother—you’ve met him before.”

Jiang Rang’s lips twitched. After a long pause, he murmured in a low voice, “Then… do you know what their relationship is like?”

The omega’s eyes narrowed slightly. He rubbed the knuckle of his index finger thoughtfully before replying, “The Chen brothers have always gotten along well. But the Chen Family is strict with its upbringing, and as the elder brother, the eldest son is particularly demanding and attentive toward his sibling.”

“Why bring this up all of a sudden?” The man’s tone carried genuine concern, laced with curiosity.

The young man pressed his lips together and shook his head in silence.

He had clamshelled up like a bivalve, unwilling to bare his thoughts no matter what.

Bzzz—

A relentless vibration buzzed from the young man’s pocket, urgent like the ringing in one’s ears after a narrow escape.

Even Qi Yu at his side froze, his gaze shifting to Jiang Rang.

The young man pulled out his phone and saw an unfamiliar number. His heart sank for no reason he could name.

Ignoring his employer beside him, Jiang Rang answered without hesitation.

The moment the call connected, a stifled sob came through from the other end.

“A-Rang, are you free right now? I… I have something to tell you.”

After the soft-spoken fiancé uttered those first words, the sobs grew harder to suppress.

Jiang Rang’s heart raced in panic, his hands and feet turning ice-cold. He swallowed hard, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the phone, forcing his voice steady. “I’ve got time, A Liu. Don’t panic—take it slow and tell me.”

Under his reassurance, the young man on the other end of the line calmed slightly, though his voice still trembled.

“This evening, after Uncle took his medicine, he started rambling nonsense. He threw it all up and then passed out.”

Jiang Rang’s hand jerked, a chill shuddering through his entire body. He shared a close bond with his father in this world—one could say the man was the first person in this unfamiliar place to truly accept him.

Father Jiang was getting on in years. His body bore the scars of youth: a limp from an accident at the construction site. When Jiang Rang first arrived in this world, the family was dirt poor, scraping by.

Back in reality, Jiang Rang had been a sickly office worker, the kind who wilted under real hardship. He’d seriously considered ditching the mission. In an environment this brutal, even the so-called Alluring Halo didn’t seem so terrible.

The System had warned him: under its influence, the people around him would warp, consumed by an insatiable hunger to possess him, control him, using any means necessary. They’d never be satisfied until they tore him apart.

That was his thinking at the time—at least before the end, he could live out his days in peace, free from this grinding misery.

But the rules bound him tight. Jiang Rang couldn’t reach the System or bail out midway.

So he dragged through his half-dead existence.

It was Father Jiang who pulled him from that pit.

The middle-aged man stayed cheerful day after day, pushing through his frail health to work the fields. Back then, Jiang Rang spent his days flat on his back in bed, but Father Jiang never nagged. Instead, he coaxed the young man outside—for walks, to the market, even to the movies—to lift his spirits.

Any food in the house, the first share always went to Jiang Rang.

Finally, the young man couldn’t take it anymore. Awkwardly, reluctantly, he started tagging along to the fields.

Father Jiang didn’t make a fuss over it—no big celebration, no complaints. But when Jiang Rang got careless and hurt himself, the older man brooded all day. That night, he kept sighing.

He blamed himself for being worthless, for failing to give his late wife and Jiang Rang a decent life—for dragging his son into a lifetime of suffering.

From that day forward, the young man began to genuinely embrace this world.

He stopped treating it like some flimsy illusion. Jiang Rang started giving back: aching for his father’s exhaustion, beaming over every extra coin earned, repaying every kindness with effort.

He could feel himself assimilating, little by little. But the process brought no pain, no sorrow.

In his real life, Jiang Rang had been utterly ordinary, painfully mediocre. His parents were the textbook strict Chinese kind—grades above all. And he was the family dud, the one who never got it, no matter how hard they pushed.

Worse, he was an irredeemable gay man.

So they gave up on him completely.

After the screaming fits and dramatic ultimatums failed to remake him in their image, they poured all their hopes onto his brilliant, quick-witted foster brother.

They pinned their dreams of family glory on the son they’d ignored for years.

Coming to this world, Jiang Rang had felt grateful a thousand times over for a father so loving and upright.

Beta pursed his lips, his eyes reddening. With trembling lips, he whispered into the phone to the young man on the other end, “How’s Dad doing now?”

The voice on the line grew distant, then close again. Jiang Rang caught snippets of a hushed exchange with the doctor. After a long pause, Hang Liu said softly, “Uncle’s at the hospital. He hasn’t woken up yet. The doctor just said his leg’s gone stiff—he needs a massage.”

Silence fell over them both at once, their shallow breaths brushing each other’s ears. They hadn’t spoken, yet it felt like they’d shared everything.

Hang Liu broke the quiet first. Forcing an upbeat tone, he said lightly, “Alright, you must still be busy over there. I’ll go massage Uncle now, then brew some porridge. He’ll probably be starving when he wakes up…”

“A Liu.”

Jiang Rang’s strained voice cut through the young man’s chatter.

They fell quiet again, the faint city clamor and hospital footsteps filtering through the line.

This time, Jiang Rang spoke first.

His voice came soft and gentle, like a breeze through a still night.

“I’m coming back right away, A Liu,” he murmured. “I won’t leave you to face this alone.”

The young man on the other end of the phone didn’t lecture him with any lofty principles or offer any seemingly well-meaning dissuasion. Hang Liu simply said, “Alright, I’ll wait for you to come back.”

Jiang Rang put away his phone and forced back the useless tears welling in his eyes.

“Mister,” the youth said, his voice trembling. He didn’t even dare glance at the employer standing beside him. “I might need to take some time off.”

The long-haired man said nothing. He simply kept his eyes downcast for a long moment, conjuring images of a rigid corpse or stagnant black sewage.

Only after a good while did this corpse slowly regain its color. In a tone that was normal yet strangely off-kilter, he said, “Mm, got it.”

With that, he addressed his subordinate like a proper employer, saying gently, “Go back without worry. I’ll have the butler give you an extra month’s pay.”

The man’s icy fingertips brushed lightly against the youth’s wrist, like the flick of a serpent’s tongue. His words of comfort and concern carried another obscure, sinister undertone.

“Jiang Rang, no matter what happens, you can always come to me. What I said that day still stands for you.”