Chapter 30: Rebirth
This narrow little alley fell into a suffocating silence.
The lackeys behind Nie Ying shrank back, frightened by the look on his face, exchanging helpless glances.
Under normal circumstances, their family backgrounds weren’t even enough to qualify them as his followers. They rarely got the chance to speak to him directly. Faced with a situation like this, they had no idea what to do.
They were already regretting coming. Not only had they gained nothing, they’d also gotten themselves noticed by He Ming’an.
Right now, the word Nie Ying hated most was maid.
Over the past few days, whenever he heard it at home, he would smash things uncontrollably—until one day his father walked in on him mid-tantrum and beat him with a golf club. Only then did he settle down a little.
But that didn’t mean the knot in his heart had disappeared.
So even though he knew Gu Qingxu had deliberately brought up the matter to use him as a weapon, he still couldn’t resist coming to trouble Song Yixing.
Seeing how wrong Nie Ying’s expression looked, Song Yixing pulled Gu Yang behind him with a cold face and stepped forward to block him.
Nie Ying’s sinister gaze shifted onto him.
Great. Even this penniless bastard knew he was born to a maid now.
Gu Yang—how dare he humiliate him like this!
The tension was about to explode.
At that moment, a figure hurried over.
Nie Ying focused—his father’s assistant.
The assistant looked delighted to see him, his baby-faced expression radiating clueless innocence. “Young Master! So you’re here—I’ve been looking everywhere. President Nie asked me to bring you back. It’s getting late.”
Of course, that was a lie. He’d seen his boss’s idiot son blocking people long ago, but the atmosphere had been so volatile he’d been afraid of getting beaten too.
Now that the He and Gu family heirs were involved, he was terrified things would spiral out of control—and that his boss would dock his bonus.
“Let’s go, Young Master. The old master is looking for you. If we’re late and President Nie asks, I won’t be able to cover for you.”
Seeing Nie Ying ignore him, he pulled out the ultimate trump card.
At the mention of his father, Nie Ying felt phantom pain along his bones, recalling the frenzy of that recent beating.
“Fine. I’ve got something to do today. I’ll let you off—for now.” Nie Ying sneered, salvaging his pride. Before leaving, he threw out a threat. “Just you wait!”
Only after Nie Ying completely disappeared from sight did Song Yixing slowly relax.
He had just been surrounded and beaten. The fact that it hadn’t been a one-sided thrashing was already impressive. His head still throbbed where a stick had struck him. Suppressing the dizziness, he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and looked at the people in front of him.
After several seconds of silence, he said softly, “Thank you.”
He had lost count of how many times he’d been saved.
Song Yixing didn’t believe in kindness without reason. The world, as he saw it, had never been friendly.
Yet the truth was that he had been helped again and again—without anyone asking for anything in return.
Gu Yang stared at him without blinking.
He was half a head shorter than Song Yixing, so he had to tilt his chin up when looking at him.
Song Yixing gazed into those misty gray eyes and watched a smile slowly spread across his face.
But there was no smile in his eyes.
At this distance, he finally understood why.
The muscles around Gu Yang’s eyes hadn’t moved.
So even when smiling, he radiated a bone-deep indifference.
This small discovery stirred something indescribable within Song Yixing.
“So how are you planning to thank me this time?” Gu Yang asked with a grin, like a child openly asking for a gift, curious what interesting answer he might receive.
Song Yixing looked at him deeply.
“I’ve been thinking about that. Including the previous times. I just haven’t figured it out yet.” What he lacked most was money—but that was the one thing Gu Yang lacked least.
Suppressing the dizziness, he said, “…I’ll give you an answer you’re satisfied with.”
Gu Yang’s lashes flickered.
He felt that Song Yixing’s attitude had changed slightly, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint how.
He simply nodded.
—
After parting at the school gate, Song Yixing called his younger brother.
The call rang for over twenty seconds before disconnecting. He switched to messaging, asking if his brother could visit the hospital in his place tonight.
The wound at his lip was too obvious. If he went, their mother would definitely question him.
After a while, a belated reply came—complaining about too much homework and no time.
Song Yixing didn’t ask why he hadn’t answered. He went to the hospital himself.
His mother was awake and, as expected, asked what had happened.
He brushed it off, saying he’d tripped and fallen on his face.
She clearly didn’t believe him.
Not wanting her to worry, he added, “I’m really fine. My classmates are all busy with their own things. No one has time to bully anyone. Remember last time? I even brought a friend to see you.”
That part was true. It eased her considerably.
Temperament couldn’t lie. The boy who had visited before had clearly been raised in privilege.
Still, she nagged him—don’t clash with classmates, focus on studying.
Eventually her energy waned. “If we live well… things will get better…”
He responded, but when he turned away, his expression darkened.
Would they?
His father was a gambler—a catastrophe for any family.
His mother worked at a clothing shop by day and as a domestic helper by night.
Yet no matter how hard she worked, it all went into that bottomless pit.
She often said, He wasn’t like this before.
But each time, she still handed over the money she’d painstakingly saved.
Until she collapsed one day and was diagnosed with terminal cancer—too late for treatment.
All this happened during his third year of middle school.
He still ranked first in the city.
He could have gone to the top public high school.
But Guanli High School offered him full tuition exemption and a generous stipend—with a contract. If he didn’t rank top ten province-wide in the college entrance exam, he’d repay everything.
He knew Guanli was a prestigious school for the rich.
He thought it would be like middle school—parallel lives.
He just needed to study hard.
That was the easiest thing for him.
But reality disappointed him.
Most people ignored him.
But it only took one to ruin everything.
Ding Ziyu.
The start of his nightmare.
At first, just annoying.
Then he requested a seat change.
That small act made Ding Ziyu fixate on him.
And it changed his life.
—
Hearing the door open, Song Yixing turned.
Ding Ziyu stood there, stiff-faced, gesturing for him to come out.
At the stairwell, Ding Ziyu took a deep breath. “I want to talk.”
“How did you know I was here?” Song Yixing asked coldly.
“It was Nie Ying. He investigated you—even your mother’s hospital.”
Song Yixing’s expression darkened.
“I know I wronged you before, but I was forced! It was Nie Ying! I couldn’t resist him!”
He tried shifting blame.
“I’ll give you money.”
“How much?”
“Seven hundred thousand.”
Silence.
“One million.”
Silence.
“I can’t offer more! Please!”
“You being expelled has nothing to do with me.”
Ding Ziyu snapped, “If you don’t plead for me, I’m finished!”
His last line of defense collapsed.
He knelt.
“Please. Let me go.”
A strange buzzing filled Song Yixing’s ears—but his head no longer hurt.
Watching the once-arrogant boy kneel, he felt no satisfaction.
He remembered his father kneeling to his mother for money.
Those who kneel easily are the most terrifying.
He turned to leave.
Ding Ziyu’s eyes went bloodshot.
Suddenly, he lunged.
Song Yixing, already unwell, couldn’t dodge.
They tumbled down the stairs together.
Darkness swallowed his vision.
Shouting. Footsteps.
Then nothing.
—
After what felt like a lifetime, consciousness returned.
Song Yixing slowly opened his eyes.
His obsidian-black pupils stared lifelessly at the ceiling.
