Chapter 42: Two-Faced Phoenix Man 1

Jiang Rang opened his eyes once more, only to be met with a hazy blur of shifting lights and shadows.

Countless memories raced through his mind, weaving and darting about before finally settling on a blurry figure, tear-streaked and calling out to him.

Who was he?

The thought was instantly quashed by a soft, mocking scoff.

Who else could it be but Qi Yu?

Even in death, the man refused to let him go. For all his years as the Federal Leader—old, cautious beyond measure—he was more superstitious than anyone.

Coaxing Jiang Rang to burn incense and pray to Buddha all day was one thing. But even in his sleep, he insisted on tying a red rope around his finger, terrified that Jiang Rang might abandon him.

In the end, they had only one child together: Jiang Le’an. Qi Yu’s heart was so biased, so petty, that he held a grudge for a lifetime over that single word Jiang Rang had once uttered—”bastard.”

Jiang Rang knew it all too well. He had no choice but to firmly refuse a second child, all to ensure Qi Yu wouldn’t utterly forsake Little Darling.

That was why the relationship between Jiang Le’an and Qi Yu had always been so strained.

The boy had fully inherited his father’s cunning and ambition. Blessed with perfect timing and circumstances as an alpha, his achievements would surely surpass even his old man’s.

Yet Jiang Le’an had clung to Jiang Rang since childhood. Even as an adult, he acted like a child who couldn’t be weaned in his presence.

Little Darling had been so eager, proposing right after coming of age that Jiang Rang divorce his omega. The boy’s face, so reminiscent of Qi Yu’s sharp features, had been deadly serious as he said, “Dad, I’ll always be by your side. Just leave him—you don’t have to worry about any threats.”

Perhaps it was the influence of his role in that world, or maybe Jiang Rang was simply exhausted and done with the endless entanglements. Besides, Little Darling was Qi Yu’s son, after all. This life had been relatively peaceful in the end, so he’d let it be.

Now, opening his eyes again to the sight of his old, pitifully tiny apartment, a complex mix of emotions washed over him.

It really did feel like one grand dream. At last, he was truly free of that beautiful man.

And yet, his heart wasn’t entirely unburdened.

The young man fluttered his heavy eyelids, then closed them again. In a daze tinged with melancholy, he wondered.

“Host, congratulations on successfully completing your first role-playing task! In that task world, you’ve acquired ten percent of the world’s energy. Keep pushing forward to gather even more and fully shed that halo!”

The youth, pale and worn out, lightly tapped his forehead. He wore a simple gray hoodie, looking every bit the exhausted office drone who’d pulled an all-nighter—well, in truth, that’s exactly what he was.

Jiang Rang stared at the work document on his phone, which refused to send due to insufficient memory. He fell silent for a long moment.

“System, I don’t want to keep doing tasks.”

The air hung heavy with silence for what felt like ages—so long that Jiang Rang thought the system had vanished. Then that mechanical voice returned in his mind, tinged with uncharacteristic caution.

“Host, as you know, the energy from that halo on you is getting harder and harder to suppress…”

Jiang Rang replied calmly, “Yeah. Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve already lived a full lifetime—no regrets left.”

The system fell quiet again, as if consulting some higher authority. Only after a good while did it respond: “I’m very sorry, Host. From the moment you bound with me, the task progression can’t be halted. However, we can negotiate some additional benefits for you… Within our capabilities, we can grant you any one condition.”

The system’s phrasing was a bit clumsy, but for once, Jiang Rang paused in silence. After a beat, he ventured cautiously, “Including altering certain people’s wills… or traveling through time?”

The system affirmed it without hesitation.

Jiang Rang pondered for a moment, on the verge of agreeing—when a knock suddenly sounded at the anti-theft door.

The weary youth sighed, his long, pale fingers pressing against his temples. Having spent so much time in Qi Yu’s circles, his demeanor had transformed dramatically. Every gesture carried an air of refined elegance; his spine was ramrod straight as he moved. He still looked haggard and drained, but there was now a graceful, flowing poise to him that drew the eye and held it.

Having lived through an entire world, Jiang Rang’s memories of reality had grown fuzzy in places. Still, old habits died hard—he peered cautiously through the peephole.

In the distorted lens, he made out a slender, frail figure with flushed cheeks.

The young man looked terribly nervous, his pale, delicate features carrying a hint of shy vulnerability.

It was the male student from across the hall.

Jiang Rang often ran into him after work. The boy always seemed so obedient, gazing up at him with those big, watery peach-blossom eyes and softly calling him “Brother.”

At first, everything was fine, but after it happened too many times, Jiang Rang began to sense something was off.

The other guy was practically lying in wait at the stairwell entrance for him every single day.

If he remembered correctly, just two days before heading into the Task Worlds, he had turned down a male student’s invitation to come over for dinner.

Was the guy here today to invite him again?

It probably wasn’t that simple. Still, being someone familiar, Jiang Rang let his guard down. His slender, elegant wrist had just touched the door handle when the System’s shrill alarm blared out.

“Host!! Don’t open the door—he’s gripping a fruit knife in the hand behind his back aaaaah—”

Jiang Rang’s heart went cold. He froze on the spot.

The knocking at the door went on for a long time. It started off steady and unhurried, then picked up speed until it was nearly ear-piercing, like a blade scraping against sheet metal. A chilling murmur filtered through from outside.

“Brother Jiang isn’t home again? Did he go on a date with someone? With who? No way! I’ve been watching the whole time… Brother Jiang hasn’t even had a chance to leave…”

With that, Jiang Rang watched the clear peephole go pitch black.

It was as if someone outside had pressed their eyeball right up against it, straining their bloodshot eyes wide open in an attempt to peer inside.

Even a man who had lived a full lifetime like Jiang Rang couldn’t help being unnerved by the sheer creepiness of it.

The System stammered, “H-Host, let’s just move on to the next task.”

Jiang Rang: “……Okay.”

“Please receive in advance the character keywords for role-playing—duplicitous, greedy, hypocritical, ambitious.”

~~~

In the early morning, the murky gray sky cast light like it was filtering through frosted glass, a faint pall of gloom rising on the horizon. A big rain was brewing.

The cramped small room was a disaster zone. Worn and unworn clothes lay scattered across the bed and sofa. The fabrics were top-quality—soft against the skin and quick to smooth out, even when balled up. The labels on the hems screamed luxury brands.

A shoe rack of moderate size stood by the door, stocked with row after neat row of limited-edition sneakers that no online store could touch.

Pale bathroom light washed over a tall, slender figure. The young man was hunched over the sink, rinsing his mouth. His fair features held a refined elegance as he spat out a mouthful of water mingled with white foam from his lips, his pretty red tongue flashing briefly.

He wiped his face with a towel, then faced the wide mirror to patiently style his hair.

His phone on the counter shrilled again just as Jiang Rang finished—a tousled chestnut crop, dark eyes with a gentle downward tilt, lips naturally curved upward. The whole effect was one of warmth and approachability.

Of course, it was all an illusion. Irritation and impatience etched his brows, and he was muttering curses under his breath.

“Fucking annoying. First day of class and it’s an early eight, screw his dad.”

Jiang Rang snatched two books and his keys from the cluttered table, kicking obstructing clothes aside with his foot.

He bent his slim waist to slip on his shoes. The door had barely swung open when he came face-to-face with a tall, thin young man standing at his threshold, posture slightly hunched. The guy’s bangs hung a bit too long, giving him a heavy, downtrodden look.

But it was his delicate, pale face—and that glassy, lifeless gray eye on the right—that really caught the eye.

He was half-blind, clearly.

The tall young man’s good black eye lit up the instant it landed on Jiang Rang, the gray one gaining a spark of life by association.

His gaze, though, was cloyingly intense and sticky—downright unsettling.

Like a slobbering dog dying to lick him from head to toe.

Jiang Rang’s anger surged the moment he laid eyes on him. That stare was too damn weird. No exaggeration—just the sight of that face and the ruined eye turned his stomach.

He cursed the blind bastard viciously in his mind, but kept only a trace of impatience on his face.

The young man’s refined, handsome brows knitted together. “Zhou Yichun, next time can you not block my door? Wait out at the building entrance or something?”

Zhou Yichun pursed his lips. His soft voice came out weak and hesitant, stumbling a little in the young man’s presence.

“J-Jiang Jiang, I just wanted you to see me the second you stepped out.”

A faint blush crept across his pale cheeks, like a shy schoolgirl.

Jiang Rang’s disgust deepened. He had no patience for more words—and no room for them anyway.

Because his living expenses still came entirely from the other man.

Truth be told, without Zhou Yichun, Jiang Rang probably wouldn’t have even made it to university right now. He’d have been forced to drop out and find some menial job instead.

Jiang Rang came from a poor family, as anyone could tell from the cramped little shack they lived in. To make matters worse, during his second year of high school, his parents had both perished in a car accident.

The surveillance cameras on that stretch of road happened to be under maintenance at the time, so the hit-and-run driver was never identified. In the end, Jiang Rang had no choice but to swallow his grief and move on.

The Jiang family had no money to speak of. His parents had been lowly laborers with barely any savings, leaving him nothing but that barebones shack.

It was Zhou Yichun who had stepped in during that dark time, providing both the funds and the support to help Jiang Rang pull through.

Zhou Yichun had been Jiang Rang’s neighbor for years. The Zhou family had moved into the rundown residential complex around the time Jiang Rang was in sixth grade.

But the Zhous were clearly cut from different cloth than the Jiangs. Rumor had it that Father Zhou had suffered a major investment failure, saddling him with massive debts, which forced him to relocate his family to this second-rate neighborhood as a stopgap.

After just two or three years as neighbors, the Zhou family struck it rich again. Amid a chorus of envious onlookers, Father Zhou and Mother Zhou moved out of the complex. For some reason, though, their precious son Zhou Yichun stayed behind.

Jiang Rang had never liked this neighbor of his. In fact, he downright despised him.

Zhou Yichun was nothing like the other kids. He was unnaturally quiet, always hiding his blind right eye behind his bangs out of deep-seated insecurity. The overall effect made him look gloomy and pathetic, like some stray dog skulking along the roadside.

Since the families were neighbors, they interacted frequently, and most of the time, the well-behaved and adorable Jiang Rang was the center of the adults’ attention.

The Zhou parents pitied their son’s withdrawn nature, however, so they coaxed Jiang Rang into playing with him. Deep down, Jiang Rang looked down on the mute little blind boy, but when Father Zhou and Mother Zhou showered him with imported snacks, he reluctantly agreed to hang out with the kid.

That was when Zhou Yichun started clinging to him like a ghost.

Jiang Rang had accepted the Zhou parents’ gifts, so he couldn’t outright refuse. Still, he never missed a chance to bully the blind boy—teaming up with other friends to prank him before ditching him and running off.

At first, Jiang Rang worried that Zhou Yichun would tattle on him. But over the course of two full years, the silent half-blind kid never breathed a word of complaint.

The more Jiang Rang tormented him, the tighter he clung—like a dog that refused to be beaten off.

Later, when tragedy struck the Jiang family and Jiang Rang lost his parents overnight, he spiraled into despair. His grades plummeted, and his spirits hit rock bottom. It was Zhou Yichun who patiently guided him back to his feet, step by step.

Their relationship warmed considerably after that. For a time, they even shared a bed.

But good times never last. One night, in a hazy half-awake state, Jiang Rang caught Zhou Yichun moaning and panting over him, even leaning in for a kiss. Jiang Rang didn’t hesitate—he kicked the other boy right off the bed.

What had he said back then?

“You sick pervert. Disgusting fag.”

That was the first time Jiang Rang had seen such a pale, pitiful expression on Zhou Yichun’s face. The young man’s misty lashes trembled violently, his cracked pale lips opening and closing soundlessly for a long moment before he rasped out an apology. “Jiang Jiang, I was wrong. I just… I lost my head for a moment. Please forgive me?”

Jiang Rang lowered his gaze. Silvery moonlight bathed half his exquisitely sculpted face, lending him an ethereal glow. He stayed silent for a long while, as if wrestling with whether to salvage their twisted friendship. In truth, he was coldly calculating Zhou Yichun’s value to him.

He still had one more year of high school ahead, followed by university.

He had no time—or interest—in slaving away at part-time jobs. The dog groveling at his feet was his perfect solution.

Jiang Rang knew full well that Zhou Yichun was in love with him.

It showed in the way his eyes darted away whenever they met Jiang Rang’s, in the brand-new gaming console he’d gifted him, in the meticulously prepared notes, and in those thick, sticky stares. Everything screamed it.

What friend went this far?

So, the young man let his brooding brows furrow delicately, his elegant arches conveying a subtle air of distress and hesitation. He clenched the fabric over his knee and murmured softly, “Forget it, Zhou Yichun. Just… don’t ever do that again.”

“Even if—even if you can’t help yourself, at least wait for my permission, okay?”

His words were tantalizingly vague—neither confirming a relationship nor outright rejecting their warped bond. It was a deliberate, hazy invitation.

Zhou Yichun lit up with ecstasy. Lifting his head from the floor, his mismatched eyes gleamed with a chilling intensity as they crawled upward. He swallowed hard, his voice hoarse. “Okay, okay! I’ll do whatever Jiang Jiang says. Whatever you say goes.”

Jiang Rang suppressed the disdain and revulsion churning inside him, keeping a gentle expression on his face. He even leaned halfway over, extending his jade-white, slender wrist, and said softly, “Come on up. Let’s get to bed early—you’ve got school tomorrow.”

Zhou Yichun’s throat bobbed as his face flushed bright red. He gripped the young man’s hand.

That night, the young man took the initiative and burrowed right into his arms.

Zhou Yichun was so thrilled he didn’t sleep a wink all night.

And from that day forward, Jiang Rang began stringing him along in an offhand, ambiguous way.

At first, he only hinted for the other man to buy him some clothes and pants.

But perhaps because Zhou Yichun was so compliant—granting every wish without question—Jiang Rang’s ambitions and greed only grew.

Soon, he started openly demanding big-brand items, expensive gaming consoles, and the like.

Strangely enough, though, Zhou Yichun never gave him cash, no matter how Jiang Rang wheedled or bullied him. Even when he did hand something over, it was never more than a hundred yuan or so.

Jiang Rang had lost count of the times he’d screamed at him over it.

Yet every time, the young man simply endured it without a word.

The two of them left the apartment building in silence and reached the street. Jiang Rang glanced at the street food stalls teeming with people, his pretty, sly eyes darting cunningly. He bossed Zhou Yichun around. “Give me some money. I’m buying breakfast.”

Zhou Yichun replied good-naturedly in a soft voice. “Jiang Jiang, let me get it for you. It’s so crowded—you’ll get jostled.”

Jiang Rang grew impatient, his creamy white cheeks darkening. He suddenly snapped. “Zhou Yichun, you think you’re all that just because you’ve got some money? I want to buy it myself today. I don’t want your filthy hands touching my food!”

Zhou Yichun floundered, clearly caught off guard by the young man’s foul mood so early in the morning. Figuring it might just be bedhead grumpiness, his dark gray eyes slowly roamed over the young man’s pretty, furious face like a lingering caress. He swallowed nervously and stammered, “O-okay. Whatever Jiang Jiang says.”

The slightly stooped young man ducked his head and fished two crumpled red bills from his pocket. Before he could hand them over, a pair of slender, bony wrists snatched them away.

Jiang Rang scowled in irritation. “God, you’re so annoying. Hurry up already.”

As he spoke, the young man’s chestnut-colored, fluffy hair perked up with a slight curve, and his downcast eyes lifted just a fraction, lending him an air of refined arrogance. He tossed the words at the man in front of him like a handout. “There. You wait right here. I’ll go buy it. Don’t you dare move, or you’re dead meat if I come back and you’re gone.”

Zhou Yichun’s eyes brightened. Beneath the morning clouds slowly parting overhead, his gray pupils gleamed like flawless gems.

Blushing, he bit his lip lightly and murmured, “Okay. I’ll wait right here for Jiang Jiang.”