Chapter 8: Dark-Skinned Rugged Honest Man 8

After a heavy downpour, the dark clouds on the horizon hadn’t fully cleared, but the temperature had cooled considerably, turning the air refreshingly pleasant.

A tall young servant carefully plucked a bouquet of red roses that the Male Master favored, meticulously removing every thorn from the stems before arranging them in an exquisite white porcelain vase.

Not far off, numerous servants were busily decorating the villa’s garden and main hall under the butler’s direction, clad in his crisp tailcoat. Every detail was handled with utmost care. Clearly, the immensely powerful Master of the House was preparing to host a business banquet right at home.

“Jiang Rang! Jiang Rang! Mr. Qi’s looking for you—he wants you to join him for breakfast,” a servant panted, hurrying up to the youth amid the flowerbeds.

Jiang Rang quickly brushed the dust from his apron. His neatly trimmed bangs fell across his smooth forehead, and his dark eyes sparkled with flecks of starlight, giving him an honest, approachable air.

He smiled back. “Coming right away.”

He picked up the vase and started toward the villa, the other servant falling into step beside him. The man couldn’t help letting his gaze linger on the youth, probing as he said, “Jiang Rang, the Master’s really taken a shine to you lately. Seems like he can’t get by without you.”

The servant’s lips twitched, but he held back the rest of what he wanted to say.

After all, these were the Master’s private affairs. They only dared whisper about it among themselves—who would be bold enough to question the man himself?

Jiang Rang got along decently with the villa staff. He wasn’t much of a talker, but he worked hard and had clearly earned the Master’s favor. That robust, vigorous build of his—rivaling any top-tier alpha—had stirred more than a few wandering thoughts among the servants.

But Jiang Rang seemed hopelessly dense by nature. No matter how obvious the hints, he never caught on. Even the most deliberate brushes of skin elicited nothing more than his usual straightforward, oblivious demeanor.

Just a few days earlier, one servant had finally mustered the courage to offer him some homemade pastries, on the verge of confessing his feelings. Unfortunately, they ran straight into the Master.

No one knew what Mr. Qi had been thinking at that moment, but anyone with eyes could see the thick, venomous malice practically oozing from those pitch-black depths.

Throughout it all, only Jiang Rang had blissfully accepted the treats, thick as a post and utterly blind to the frozen tension in the air.

Sure enough, the very next day, that smitten servant was let go.

He vanished without a trace—no one knew where he’d ended up.

The rest of the staff clammed up about it completely. Only Jiang Rang had asked after him the following day.

Ever since then, Mr. Qi and Jiang Rang had grown visibly closer, practically inseparable. The Master even required the youth’s company at night when he retired.

The servants didn’t dare entertain any more notions. In truth, the one who’d just spoken regretted his words the instant they left his mouth.

Jiang Rang, however, acted as if he hadn’t noticed a thing. The beta fell silent for a moment before replying, “The Master’s just lonely. He needs someone around.”

The servant didn’t dare say another word. Qi Yu, lonely? In need of company?

Who wouldn’t laugh their head off at that? Forget everything else—this scion of the venerable Qi Family had clawed his way to the top of the business world through sheer grit. Later, he’d married into the Li Family for power, a frail omega who had seized glories others could only dream of.

A man that ruthless and brilliant—helpless and fragile, as Jiang Rang put it? Not a chance.

The servant’s lips quivered, but he swallowed his words.

The moment they stepped into the main hall together, he felt the Master’s gaze—chillingly cold, almost pathological—bore into them. Without a second thought, the servant hurried away from the youth, and only then did the icy shiver down his spine begin to fade.

“Jiang Rang, what kept you so long today?” The Male Master, dressed in a dark blue coat, lifted his eyes languidly. His mood had clearly improved over the past few days; even his complexion looked healthier, no longer that frightening, ghostly pallor.

The beta carefully set the vase aside, washed his hands, and deftly laid out the bowls and utensils. Breakfast that morning was a special yam beef porridge from the kitchen, garnished with green onions atop the glistening grains—an inviting sight that whetted the appetite.

His hands never stopped moving as he tested the temperature, flashing an earnest smile at Qi Yu, who was staring at him intently. “The flowers in your room were starting to wilt, but the roses in the garden are blooming beautifully. Knowing how much you like them, I went ahead and picked a few since it was still early.”

Qi Yu’s crimson lips curved faintly at the corners as he let out a soft “Mm.”

The spoon clinked against the bowl, and a serene quiet settled over the main hall.

Qi Yu had barely taken two bites before he moved to set down his utensils.

Seeing this, Jiang Rang’s lips pressed together. Unable to hold back, he ventured boldly, “Master, please have a little more. Work keeps you busy all day, and there’s a banquet this evening—your health comes first.” As he spoke, a look of genuine worry and caution crept across his tanned cheeks.

The tall, slender Master of the House let his slightly upturned eyes glide over the beta’s intensely concerned expression. His long fingers slowly caressed the porcelain spoon, a faint blush rising delicately across his pale face.

His thin eyelids half-veiled a subtle shimmer. Though he said nothing, he patiently took a few more sips in line with the young man’s urging.

The damp moss scent in the living room took on a hint of vibrant, pleasing freshness.

Qi Yu didn’t eat much more in the end, but the man was clearly in high spirits. An emerald ring gleamed on his pale middle finger, accentuating the slender fairness of his digits. As he gripped the bowl and spoon, they produced a crisp clink.

He slid the bowl toward the young man at his side. His once-gaunt cheeks, now curved with a touch of healthy fullness from recent care, tilted up slightly. His pitch-black eyes locked onto the young man’s slightly plush lips, the corners of his own mouth curving as he said, “Jiang Rang, I can’t eat any more. Help me finish it.”

The beta frowned instinctively. Shaped by rural sensibilities, he felt this wasn’t quite proper—but the man’s next words followed right away.

“Watching you eat gives me an appetite. Maybe next time I can manage a couple more bites.”

Jiang Rang had a sudden realization. He’d always known the omega suffered from a mild case of anorexia, and this request made him feel nothing but glad that he could help.

The beta promptly lifted the remaining half-bowl of porridge and dug in. He didn’t wolf it down but ate steadily, deliberately mimicking the unhurried pace of others.

Yet Qi Yu had watched the young man eat on the surveillance feeds.

Likely shaped by the hectic farm life back home, the youth favored big mouthfuls that puffed out his cheeks ever so slightly. He wasn’t picky at all, devouring whatever was set before him—simple and unpretentious, like a free-range hound from the wild hills.

Now and then, when fully sated, the beta would narrow those usually round black eyes of his, radiating a glow of utter contentment.

Qi Yu ached to stroke those bright eyes.

His fingers twitched faintly, his thick lashes lowering. Once the young man polished off the porridge, he picked up the chopsticks and served him some tamagoyaki.

The tall youth accepted the feeding with perfect docility.

These dishes clearly hit the beta’s tastes just right. He savored them heartily, his initial stiffness gradually melting away.

By the time the plates sat empty, Jiang Rang still felt a lingering hunger.

A man well-fed and watered is always at ease. The youth caught the faint sound of laughter—soft and bubbly, vanishing like foam on the wind.

Jiang Rang looked up on reflex.

Qi Yu had reverted to his usual cool indifference. The Master of the House seemed thoroughly pleased with his performance, offering only one parting line: “Eat your meals with me from now on.”

The beta took it as high praise. He watched the man’s lithe, willow-slim figure recede, vowing inwardly that since Mr. Qi treated him so well, he’d make sure the man ate more next time—enough to fully restore his health.

~~~

The banquet preparations had the servants at the Li Family Villa rushing about in a frenzy all day long. Jiang Rang, as Qi Yu’s personal attendant, wasn’t required to join the chaos, but he couldn’t sit still. Even when the butler urged him to take a break, the young man just smiled and shook his head, insisting he was fine.

It wasn’t until evening that the butler halted Jiang Rang—mid-stride toward some potted plants—and sent him up to the dressing room.

Jiang Rang thought nothing of it and headed straight upstairs.

The Li Family Villa’s dressing room was vast and elegant, its style a far cry from the outer halls. Amethyst beaded curtains divided the wardrobes from the jewelry displays, every inch a testament to power and wealth.

It wasn’t his first time here; he dressed the master daily, after all.

The young man eased the black-and-gold door shut behind him and scanned the space. Through the hazy shimmer of the crystal strands, he made out a vague, slender silhouette.

“Jiang Rang?”

The drifting, chilly voice threaded through the close air, laced with the faint tangle of rose and moss.

Jiang Rang swallowed without thinking. Before he could reply, the other spoke with certainty.

“Come in.”

Jiang Rang stepped forward and parted the densely clustered crystal beads. He extended his wheat-toned wrist, his lean fingers teasing aside the swaying, clinking strands.

There sat the man, back turned to him before the grand vanity mirror.

He appeared to be dressing; a thin white shirt hung half-off his elbows, teasingly exposing the upper half of his flawlessly sculpted pale back.

Jiang Rang could even make out the exquisite texture of that enviably fine skin.

It was the body of nobility—beautiful in every sense.

At the sound, the man turned his face halfway, his silken black hair spilling over one shoulder.

The stark black-on-white contrast struck like a thunderbolt, all the more so with those eyes glancing back—hooked faintly, veiled in a haze that hinted at forbidden allure.

Jiang Rang paused for the briefest instant, but that was all. The young man’s expression didn’t shift in the slightest, and those eyes—bright to an almost unnatural degree—shone with a purity unmarred by even the faintest stray thought.

Qi Yu narrowed his eyes slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line. Then, with deliberate leisure, he buttoned up his white dress shirt.

The red roses in the vase beside the vanity mirror were in perfect bloom, their vivid crimson almost piercing to the eye.

Qi Yu tilted his head just a fraction, locking eyes with the handsome beta’s reflection behind him in the mirror. It was a long moment before he spoke. “Jiang Rang, pick out a necklace for me to wear.”

His slender white fingertips gestured toward the necklace case nearby, its contents shimmering with iridescent light.

Jiang Rang had no eye for such things. Before arriving in Juecheng, he hadn’t even realized that men wore necklaces.

Though for an omega, it was probably par for the course.

Mr. Qi rarely donned accessories like these, which suggested tonight’s banquet was no ordinary affair.

The beta’s lips twitched awkwardly, words of timid refusal dying unspoken on his tongue. He was accustomed to following orders, so he racked his brain instead, examining the options one by one.

In the end, he settled on a silver chain studded with tiny diamonds, its centerpiece a dazzling Silver Sun Emblem.

Qi Yu had already shrugged into his black suit jacket. His dark eyes flicked over, a glint of approval in them. “Very nice. Put it on for me.”

Jiang Rang let out a subconscious breath of relief. He approached with careful steps, his slightly callused hands gently sweeping the man’s silky long hair to one side before bending down to clasp the necklace in place.

The young man assumed that was the end of it. But to his surprise, the exquisitely refined and aloof Mr. Qi suddenly lifted a wrist, pointing toward the neatly folded black suit draped over the sofa.

“Jiang Rang, put this on today. Stay behind me.”

The beta nodded in a daze, thinking to himself that servants in wealthy households even had bespoke attire for accompanying their master to banquets.

The inexperienced beta had no way of noticing that the suit on the sofa was an exact match in design to the omega’s own.

Nor did he realize that from the moment he began changing until he finished dressing, the beautiful master’s pitch-black eyes had been riveted to him, never once straying.

As Qi Yu had foreseen, the suit fit the young man like it was tailored for him. Jiang Rang’s broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, his muscle lines beautifully defined. Paired with that handsome face, he looked every inch the rogue from a fashion spread—like a model playing at thug in a suit.

Yet it was clearly his first time in anything so formal. For all his innate commanding presence, the anxiety and awkwardness etched on his face dragged him right back to his unpolished roots.

As Jiang Rang stood before the mirror, meticulously adjusting the finer details of his outfit, the Moss Scent from behind suddenly surged, compressing the very air around him.

A pair of pale wrists, faint veins threading beneath the skin, slid slowly around the young man’s waist. With unhurried grace, they fastened a delicate chain of shimmering silver light, complete with its Silver Sun Emblem, about him.

Their bodies were so intimately close that only the whisper of their hair separated them. The long-haired beauty’s Adam’s apple bobbed faintly; he could feel the beta’s muscles go rigid, his body heat rising palpably.

His gaze, growing mistier and darker by the second, drifted slowly downward from the mirror’s image of the handsome young man’s faintly flushed face.

The elegant white wrist withdrew from the secured waist chain, drifting upward to encircle the tanned one reflected in the glass.

The man’s voice emerged hoarse and low. “You look stunning in this.”