The Young Master of the Cheng Family and the Hidden Shadow Behind the Curtain

Xue Zhen’s heart skipped a beat. Across the distance and the cacophony of the crowd, he could only see the faint shimmer in those dark eyes—a gaze that felt as though it could peer into the depths of one’s soul. Fortunately, the look lasted only a few seconds, brief and indifferent, before shifting away.

A ripple of excitement swept through the room. The banquet hall fell into a complete hush as the grand lights along the walls were switched on. The interior became brilliantly lit, making every guest’s expression visible. All eyes converged on the auction stage, focusing on the exceptionally tall and commanding figure standing there.

As was custom before a gala began, there was a speech to be made. Qi Suichuan was no exception.

“Thank you all for coming…” His deep voice resonated, slightly distorted by the microphone and speakers. “Tonight, the Qi Corporation is hosting this charity drive to support children who have lost access to education…”

Qi Suichuan’s tone was cold. It possessed a magnetic quality, like a cello, yet it was pitched so low that, combined with his habitually stoic expression, it carried a frosty air of detachment. His eyes were particularly striking—dark and heavy, with down-turned corners and thick lashes that projected an aura of keeping everyone at a thousand-mile distance. Despite his extraordinary looks, he did not inspire an immediate sense of approachability.

The speech was brief and to the point. As soon as Qi Suichuan stepped down, a staff member in a sharp suit took the microphone to announce the start of the auction. Qi Suichuan nodded to his secretary, his voice flat: “Let’s go.”

His schedule was packed, and he had no intention of making small talk with the guests. However, his secretary looked hesitant. Qi Suichuan stopped and arched a brow. “Well?”

The secretary blurted it out: “Madam said that her goddaughter, Miss Ji, is also attending tonight. She wants you to meet with her…”

The “Madam” referred to was Qi Suichuan’s mother, Chen Ruo. Having only one son and never being particularly close to him, she had grown bored in her middle age. With no outlet for her maternal affection, she began adopting goddaughters everywhere. Miss Ji was one of them. Qi Suichuan had encountered her a few times at the family estate; she was reportedly very good at pleasing Madam Chen.

“I’m not going,” Qi Suichuan said, stepping toward the exit, unmoved. Suddenly, his tall frame came to a halt.

A young man in a pinstripe suit, who had appeared out of nowhere, was leaning against the doorway with a smirk. “Cousin,” the young man said helplessly, blocking the path. “Come with me for a bit.”

Qi Suichuan looked coldly at the frivolous man.

Chen Xu threw up his hands. “This is Aunt’s idea. I don’t have a choice.” Noticing his cousin’s displeasure, Chen Xu raised his hands in surrender. “Big Young Master, have some mercy. Just stand there and let her have a look at you. What do you have to lose?”

The secretary didn’t dare move, so Chen Xu took matters into his own hands. Relying on over a decade of thick-skinned friendship, he practically dragged his cousin away. “Go, go, go…”

The deep red velvet curtains rose, and the first auction item appeared behind a glass display case. Every item was a donation from a guest, and the final bids would be handed to the Qi Corporation to be donated on their behalf. Tang Jia had donated a vase said to be from the Song Dynasty. Charity and public welfare were favorite pastimes for the wealthy, whether for reputation, social status, or more practical interests. Xue Zhen knew for a fact his stepfather wasn’t here purely out of the goodness of his heart.

“Why is he leaving already?” Tang Jia sighed to those around him. “I came all this way and didn’t even get to say a word to him.”

Others shared his sentiment but echoed with half-hearted agreement. “Young Master Qi is a busy man these days.” Someone lowered their voice, sharing a secret. “Chairman Qi wants to delegate power early. The old guard is either retiring or passing away; naturally, the Young Master has to step up.”

Xue Zhen listened intently. In the original world, Qi Suichuan was a ruthless character in the business world, though it was a shame he would eventually retreat step by step upon meeting the “Dragon Aotian,” becoming a stepping stone for the protagonist. What a waste.

As the auction proceeded smoothly and the atmosphere grew relaxed, Xue Zhen felt a bit stifled. He told Tang Jia he wanted to go for a walk. The gala was held in a villa under the Qi name, featuring a vast garden and an outdoor pool. Seeing others heading out, Tang Jia assumed Xue Zhen was simply bored. “Don’t wander off,” he warned. “We leave when it’s over.”

Xue Zhen nodded. He wove through the small clusters of people, passing Ms. Cheng. She was on the phone, so he gave her a polite nod. After he passed, Ms. Cheng hung up and slowly pulled out a slender water pipe. She held the thin stem, glancing at her young secretary.

“See that? The Tang family kid,” she sneered, holding the unlit pipe between her fingers.

“Boss…?” the secretary asked, confused.

Ms. Cheng didn’t explain, murmuring to herself: “The Tang family wants to sacrifice a pawn to save the knight, turning to the Qi family instead. They even told the kid to curry favor, but unfortunately…” She paused. “Young Master Qi doesn’t fall for that. Only my useless nephew would be foolish enough to fall for it.”

Her nephew had actually come to her, piteously asking why the Tang family’s stepson refused to play with him. Ms. Cheng almost laughed at the stupidity. Who one befriended was always dictated by people like Tang Jia. Her poor nephew didn’t realize the Tangs were trying to kick their family to the curb and was making a fool of himself.

“Just wait,” Ms. Cheng said as the pipe snapped in her hand. She clapped the dust off. “He’ll know he lost the bet when he ends up with neither the money nor the person.”

Xue Zhen walked downstairs, declining a waiter’s offer for directions. He just wanted some peace. He stepped onto a terrace and felt the cool evening breeze. The balcony was empty and offered a wide view of the shimmering pool and the glowing orange lights of the distant city. The shifting lights occasionally illuminated his porcelain-white cheek. It was a perfect quiet spot amidst the noise.

886 poked its head out from his shoulder. Xue Zhen leaned his face against the system’s yellow beak. Since 886 had no physical form, it felt like leaning into a projection. The plump bird grew bashful. “Host…”

“What?” Xue Zhen asked.

886 stuttered for a while before changing the subject. “Host, we saw the second lead today!”

“Yeah,” Xue Zhen replied. “Saw him from a distance. Couldn’t tell much about him.”

The interaction—or lack thereof—made him feel uneasy. In a task world, higher NPC autonomy usually meant more world energy and more points for the tasker, but it also made the task harder. Xue Zhen frowned. He had spent a long time as a high-level villain where he could walk over anyone; being exhibited like a commodity by a cheap stepfather was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a while.

Lost in thought, Xue Zhen suddenly heard footsteps. He thought it was another guest, but the person didn’t stop, walking straight toward him. A faint scent of nard (spikenard) filled the air.

A handsome young man with curly brown hair and grey-blue eyes was staring directly at him. He was tall—over a head taller than Xue Zhen—with broad shoulders and a large frame that suggested hidden muscle beneath his suit. His clothes were expensive, but his collar had been violently tugged open, a button missing, revealing a tanned neck. He had an arrogant, aggressive air and a sparkling stud in his ear. He looked more like a “boy” than a “man”—reckless and green.

He was clearly a troublemaker. A rebellious youth. And right now, this rebellious youth was looking at Xue Zhen with blatant dissatisfaction.

“Why did you reject my invitation?” the boy demanded. His voice was deep, but his words were harsh. “You want to cling to the Qi family? Want to be Qi Suichuan’s little boyfriend?”

Seeing Xue Zhen blink in confusion, the boy, Cheng Shi, grew even angrier. Cheng Shi hated Qi Suichuan. The Cheng and Qi families had been rivals for decades, and as an only son, he was constantly compared to the cold, business-minded Qi Suichuan. Cheng Shi preferred extreme sports and racing—things that were dangerous. It was the first time anyone had rejected him, especially for the sake of “turning to” Qi Suichuan.

He stared at the black-haired youth’s beautiful, bewildered face. Had Tang Xuezhen always looked like this? The youth had a face so refined it was almost gender-neutral, with round, dark eyes that suppressed any coquettishness with pure innocence. His cheeks were flushed pink.

He looked scared. The thought flashed through Cheng Shi’s mind. The hand he had intended to shove against Xue Zhen’s shoulder softened, instead grabbing the youth’s slender wrist. Though Cheng Shi thought he was being gentle, Xue Zhen let out a gasp.

“It hurts…”

Xue Zhen’s wrist was gripped tightly. He couldn’t break free, and the grip only seemed to tighten. His eyes grew watery with the pain. Why is this person so handsy?

Cheng Shi was startled. He looked at the white wrist in his hand and then at Xue Zhen’s reddening eyes. He subconsciously let go. He forgot that he trained constantly with combat champions, while Tang Xuezhen was a delicate young master.

“You… why did you hit me?” Xue Zhen asked, his nose wrinkling. His skin was so fair that the marks were immediately visible. His voice was soft, making the accusation sound more like a piteous whimper.

Cheng Shi instantly forgot his interrogation. He didn’t understand how a squeeze became “hitting,” but Xue Zhen looked incredibly aggrieved. “Don’t cry,” Cheng Shi gritted out, suppressing his temper and trying to offer clumsy comfort. “I wasn’t trying to hit you.”

“Look,” Xue Zhen said, holding out his wrist. “It’s all red.”

The dark finger marks on the snowy skin were glaring. How is he this fragile? Cheng Shi opened his mouth to argue, but met those misty eyes. “You… forget it.”

He had been ready to explode after hearing his aunt’s insinuations, but now his anger was deflated by the sight of Xue Zhen about to burst into tears. If he pushed further, he’d look like a bully.

But Xue Zhen wasn’t done. “You’re so annoying,” he said, his face full of rejection. “I hate you.” His voice was small and trembling, but the words hit Cheng Shi like a physical blow.

“Hate me?” Cheng Shi’s face darkened. Like a schoolboy who didn’t understand why a girl was mad at him, he didn’t think he was the problem. “Because you like Qi Suichuan?”

Xue Zhen gave him a cold look, his eyes still red. “You are all annoying.”

Cheng Shi was stunned. He didn’t know whether to be happy that Xue Zhen didn’t hate him because of Qi Suichuan, or to worry about how to change the boy’s impression of him.

As the evening breeze grew colder, Xue Zhen brushed past Cheng Shi and walked away, even bumping into him on the way out. Cheng Shi stood on the empty balcony, looking like a large, bewildered dog whose owner had just thrown away the leash. After a moment, he chased after him. “Wait…!”

The wind from his movement ruffled the heavy curtains by the balcony door. The balcony appeared empty, and no one noticed that behind the curtains, a sliver of light had flickered—as if someone had been standing there the whole time. The light vanished as the curtains settled.