Chapter 121

Chapter 121

1.

Xu Zhangying had never looked much like Xu Yiyuan since childhood, yet every neighbor or acquaintance familiar with them would say at a glance that they were unmistakably father and son.

Because Xu Zhangying’s mannerisms and way of speaking were identical to Xu Yiyuan’s.

Xu Yiyuan, former reporter for the Guangzhou News Agency, held the professional title of Associate Senior Reporter (Chief Correspondent). Born in 1969 into a prominent Xu family in Guangzhou, he was the top scorer in humanities in the provincial college entrance examination in 1985 and died in 2004 in Serbia.

Though the birth year might evoke the impression of a historical relic, Xu Yiyuan was only 35 when he died—a man's most attractive age. So even when Xu Zhangying suddenly thought of him in 2022, what surfaced in his mind was still a youthful, handsome face, one that even began to blur their generational difference.

After all, if Xu Zhangying lived six more years beyond 2022, he would forever be older than his own father.

From very early on, Xu Zhangying’s life motto was "never look back." Every yesterday was eternally forgotten by him; he always focused solely on the present within reach.

So not only Ye Xin, but even Xu Yiyuan’s face had been eroded by time in his memory, becoming fragmented and indistinct.

But when seawater flooded his trachea, the past and people Xu Zhangying had deliberately forgotten surged into clarity, as if soaked in photo developer, growing sharper and sending sharp pains through his chest.

He could no longer remember when or why he had chosen to forget them, but the answer might lie in those particular few days of Xu Zhangying’s past.

September 2000, Guangzhou.

The turn of the millennium was deeply significant for many born in the '80s and '90s. Back then, the entire world was filled with hopeful fantasies for the new thousand years, unaware that when the countdown cheers rang out at the final second, the world had already been fast-forwarded, hurtling toward an unknown future at an incomprehensible speed.

This year was also special for Xu Yiyuan.

Xu Yiyuan, standing at 185 cm tall, had sharp eyebrows and eyes, a high nose bridge, and exceptionally good looks. If one had to describe his aura, they could borrow the words of the program director at Guangzhou Television—this was that 'star quality' most adored by Hong Kong and Taiwan in the '80s and '90s, the kind of person most suited for the screen.

Xu Yiyuan joined the Guangzhou News Agency in 1989. Four years later, in 1993—the year Xu Zhangying was born—Beijing’s *Oriental Horizon* revolutionized news commentary programs, and local TV stations across the country began competing to launch various field reporting and in-depth interview programs.

This was why, when Xu Zhangying recalled his childhood, all he remembered were the adults in the news agency’s housing complex always rushing about, full of energy, as if there were endless investigative reports and TV programs to produce every day. It was a golden era unique to journalists.

It was against this backdrop that Guangzhou Television and the news agency faced a talent shortage. As a beta who had always been sidelined from directing roles, Xu Yiyuan finally got the chance to helm a current affairs program called *City Coordinates*, airing in prime time every Wednesday night. It was one of the first experimental investigative news programs.

Xu Yiyuan was responsible for everything in *City Coordinates*—topic selection, interview planning, on-site recording, and post-production. Though he wasn’t officially given the title of director, the program was undeniably his creation.

Beyond this show, Xu Yiyuan had many other assignments. Each time, he would rush to the recording site straight from another field report, with no time for makeup or styling. Often, he’d just be in a shirt or utility jacket, his assistant hastily combing his hair before he went on camera.

Yet, whether inside factories or at community gates, Xu Yiyuan’s handsome face left a deep impression on the men, women, and children watching TV in those years. Combined with his keen journalistic instincts and composed interviewing style, *City Coordinates* became the only survivor among Guangzhou Television’s first wave of experimental news programs, enduring as a lasting success.

Thus, "Xu Yiyuan" became a small yet memorable part of the city’s memory in the late '90s. Why the late '90s? Because after the millennium, he stepped away from *City Coordinates*.

In 2000, China’s broadcasting system underwent a new round of deep reforms. As TV stations merged into conglomerates, production and broadcasting were separated, meaning stations would now have to operate self-sufficiently.

Previously successful programs became lucrative assets, and *City Coordinates*, as one of the highest-rated and most audience-approved shows, was almost immediately handed over to connected insiders at the station. Xu Yiyuan, who had built it from scratch, was unceremoniously removed.

So the millennium was a special year for Xu Yiyuan, Xu Zhangying, and Ye Xin.

Xu Zhangying still remembers that after the spring of 2000, Xu Yiyuan—who had finally achieved stable work through *City Coordinates*—started frequently taking long business trips again.

For instance, Xu Yiyuan’s last international assignment had been the year before, covering the major event of the bombing of Yugoslavia. Because the beta reporter was not only fluent in English and French but could also seamlessly switch between Cantonese and Mandarin, with outstanding skills in interviewing and writing, central media outlets like *Certain Daily* often borrowed him from Guangzhou.

Yet, he was still just a beta. So after every trip, aside from a standard travel allowance, he gained nothing—as if leaders across different systems and ranks had once again completely forgotten about him the moment it ended.

It sounded frustrating, enough that even colleagues who enjoyed schadenfreude would occasionally sigh on his behalf. But only his closest family knew that Xu Yiyuan genuinely didn't care about any of it.

Xu Yiyuan never complained about how slowly his professional titles advanced or how his program proposals were repeatedly handed to others. He simply observed it all calmly, as if watching a movie with a predetermined ending, and then resolutely focused only on what he loved.

What he loved was being a journalist.

Sitting in front of the desktop computer, playing Minesweeper under the whirring electric fan, young Xu Zhangying often felt that Xu Yiyuan was like a real-world "Minesweeper" enthusiast—relentlessly seeking out the hidden bombs beneath the calm surface of the world, even if it meant getting dangerously close to them.

The year Xu Zhangying was born, Xu Yiyuan and Ye Xin, who had already been employed for four years, finally got their own flat—a 90-square-meter, three-room apartment. Aside from the two bedrooms, there was also a small study that held Xu Yiyuan’s work desk and a camp bed for when he stayed up late writing or came home in the middle of the night.

During the years when Xu Yiyuan was frequently away, the study became Xu Zhangying’s domain—books, computer, and even the camp bed included.

When no one was home, Xu Zhangying would randomly pick a book from the shelf and lie on the bed reading aimlessly, sometimes dozing off. When he woke up, the lights would already be turned off, and a thin summer blanket would have been tossed over him by his doting mother, who had returned at some unknown hour.

But on rare occasions, when Xu Zhangying suddenly woke in the middle of the night, in the pitch-black darkness, as if by magic, the small camp bed would now hold a sleeping grown man, while the six- or seven-year-old Xu Zhangying would find himself nestled in the crook of the man’s arm without realizing when it had happened.

Xu Zhangying would immediately cling to his father like an excited limpet. The Beta man, weathered by constant travel, had a sturdy frame—so much so that the child’s slender arms couldn’t even wrap fully around his waist or shoulders. After hugging for a while, Xu Zhangying would grow restless and start touching Xu Yiyuan’s face, and when his fingers brushed against the familiar five o'clock shadow, Xu Yiyuan would finally stir awake.

The Beta father, in the prime of his life, would pull Xu Zhangying tightly into his arms, smelling only of soap the whole family used. He’d duck his head and rub his bristly cheeks against Xu Zhangying’s cheek, only letting go when the annoying little brat yelped in protest.

"Dad, when did you get back?" Xu Zhangying would ask, tilting his head up in the dark, blinking his almond-shaped eyes—identical to Ye Xin’s.

"Three a.m. Dawn’s not far off," Xu Yiyuan would murmur sleepily, tightening his arm around the child.

"Are you going to work tomorrow?" Xu Zhangying would ask, clinging to his father like a monkey, his voice brimming with hope.

"No. Sleep easy—I’ll wake you up tomorrow," Xu Yiyuan would reply, pulling the summer blanket over Xu Zhangying’s belly in the cool breeze of the electric fan before ruffling his hair. And just like that, father and son would drift back to sleep.

When morning finally came, sure enough, it would be Xu Yiyuan—already washed and dressed—who’d drag Xu Zhangying out of bed and carry him to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Two months after being reassigned from *City Coordinates*, Xu Yiyuan went on an extended business trip—so long that Xu Zhangying didn’t see him for nearly three months, from summer vacation well into the second grade of elementary school.

Xu Zhangying remembered that day in 2000 clearly. At the time, Ye Xin was also swamped with work and had stopped coming home on schedule. So, as usual, when the school bell rang, Xu Zhangying stayed behind to play trading cards and marbles with his classmates, only heading toward the school gates once he was thoroughly filthy.

But just as he was about to step past the iron fence—wearing his white shirt and black shorts, his blue backpack swaying—he spotted a familiar figure leaning against a bicycle at the school gate.

Washed in the amber glow of early fall dusk, Xu Yiyuan stood there in a black turtleneck layered under a white button-up and faded blue jeans. By then, the school gate was nearly empty of parents—only he remained, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he leaned against a lamppost, looking for all the world like a Hong Kong movie star from afar.

Xu Zhangying’s eyes widened. The moment he confirmed it was really Xu Yiyuan, he sprinted forward, his backpack bouncing like crazy. The seven-year-old latched onto his father’s leg, looking up with a grin before loudly exclaiming in Cantonese, "Dad! What are you doing here?"

Xu Yiyuan startled at his son’s sudden appearance but immediately stubbed out his cigarette in a pocket ashtray before hoisting Xu Zhangying up with a chuckle. "Just got back to Guangzhou at two this afternoon. Ran into Uncle Dai Hao on the way—he said you’ve been walking home alone all semester. So I changed and came straight here. Do you always come home this late, Xiao Ying?"

"Not *always*," Xu Zhangying lied smoothly, his pockets jingling with marbles as Xu Yiyuan set him on the bike’s rear rack. "We had P.E. last period, so I played a bit longer with Li Zize and the others."

Thanks to Xu Zhangying’s dawdling, they hit rush hour on the way home. The five-minute ride back to their neighborhood was clogged with the uniquely chaotic traffic of the early 2000s, so Xu Yiyuan ended up pushing the bike instead, walking alongside the bustling crowd with Xu Zhangying in tow.

"Has Mom been busy lately?" Xu Yiyuan asked.

"*Super* busy. Dad, you wouldn’t believe it—the stock market crashed again! Everyone in our class and the whole neighborhood’s been fighting. Mom said we’re done for too and that we’re counting on your next paycheck to eat," Xu Zhangying parroted, swaying on the bike seat.

"I figured. She barely called this month," Xu Yiyuan remarked, laughing outright as he pushed the bike, seemingly unbothered by their impending "bankruptcy." Shaking his head, he noted, "Last month, the U.S. dot-com bubble popped. Of course the domestic market took the hit first. I saw the reports overseas and thought about asking your mom, but then I remembered—she’s the money boss in this family. Best to leave it to her."

Xu Yiyuan never talked down to Xu Zhangying, so his speech was always laced with shop talk and obscure metaphors. Over time, this became their family’s communication style—even when he wasn’t home, Ye Xin would discuss business and work with Xu Zhangying.

Sometimes, neighbors overhearing their conversations would gasp, saying, "AXin, why are you telling a kid this stuff?" But Ye Xin would just shrug. "He’s part of this family too. No reason to hide anything."

The year before, Ye Xin—whose burning ambitions for wealth and power had finally boiled over—quit her job at the TV station’s dance troupe and dove into business, running between foreign trade hubs and the stock market with all the savings from her seven-year marriage to Xu Yiyuan. A year later, she’d successfully erased a digit from their bank balance.

But neither Xu Yiyuan nor Xu Zhangying cared how Ye Xin handled their finances. Xu Yiyuan had once proposed a "safety cushion principle": as long as they owned their home, no matter how recklessly Ye Xin spent their savings, his fixed monthly salary of 2,800 yuan—after deducting travel stipends and writing fees—would always serve as a financial backstop.

So even if their funds ran dry, they’d only have to tighten their belts for a month before the next 2,800-yuan "relief payment" arrived. In a way, this also explained why ordinary people clung so fiercely to government jobs during high-risk times.

After exchanging a few words, the father and son turned from the main road onto a less crowded sidewalk. Xu Yiyuan glanced at his son and asked with some confusion, "But if our family is already struggling financially, why is Mom still so busy? Uncle Dai Hao said we've been having dinner at 8 p.m. lately."

Dai Hao was a sound engineer at the TV station and lived upstairs from the Xu family. In the early 2000s, in a dormitory building with shared water facilities, neighbors had little privacy—even buying an extra bunch of vegetables would become common knowledge.

Xu Zhangying looked at Xu Yiyuan's broad shoulders, gripping the bicycle seat with both hands, and said earnestly, "Mom said she didn’t put all her eggs in one basket. She held some in reserve, but the auntie at her work stall lost too much this time, so she’s trying to convince her to partner up."

"That’s Boss Ye for you," Xu Yiyuan remarked with sudden understanding. The evening breeze ruffled the hair on his forehead, and Xu Zhangying saw the faint smile on his profile. "A true risk-taking entrepreneur."

Just as Xu Zhangying was about to tilt his head and ask what an "entrepreneur" was, their bicycle rounded the last corner home, where they spotted two figures—one tall, one small—under the shade of trees, looking flustered and sweating.

Standing beside the bicycle was another tall, upright figure—Qi Haoge, another popular figure at the TV station and a news anchor. Two years older than Xu Yiyuan, he was an alpha.

If Xu Yiyuan was the epitome of Hong Kong-style charm, Qi Haoge was the classic handsome man with refined features—clear-eyed and eloquent, thanks to his professional broadcasting training. Even buying groceries, he’d be instantly recognized by grandmothers and aunties.

But now, this dashing man in a shirt and tie stood helplessly by his bicycle, looking utterly distressed. On the back seat sat a pretty little girl with twin braids, wearing the same sailor-style school uniform as Xu Zhangying, wailing loudly enough that the Xu father and son could hear her clearly from fifty meters away.

Qi Haoge fumbled, trying to soothe her: "Xiao Feng, be strong. Daddy will be careful, just a little bit—"

"Nooo! You liar!"

Xu Yiyuan pushed his bicycle closer and asked, puzzled, "Haoge, what’s wrong?"

Sweat pouring down his face, Qi Haoge looked up, and his eyes might as well have said "saved at last." He exclaimed, "Yiyuan, thank goodness you’re here! I need your help—I accidentally got Xiao Feng’s foot caught in the rear wheel while biking."

Xu Yiyuan immediately parked his bicycle with Xu Zhangying on the roadside and strode over. "Is it stuck?"

Xu Zhangying also jumped off and followed, seeing his classmate Qi Feng straddling the bike seat, her right foot—clad in little leather shoes—firmly wedged between the spokes. It looked serious: the white shoe was deformed, and the rubber sole was torn.

Qi Feng, red-faced and sobbing uncontrollably, hiccuped through tears when she saw them, "I told you my foot was in the wheel, but you kept pedaling!"

"Sorry, Xiao Feng, Daddy didn’t hear," Qi Haoge said anxiously, his face flushed with guilt. Notoriously helpless with daily life—unable to cook, fix things, or handle daily tasks—he quickly added, "Beta Uncle is here now. Let him take a look!"

Xu Yiyuan crouched down, gently holding Qi Feng’s shoe. He smiled up at her. "It’s okay, Xiao Feng. Beta Uncle checked—it doesn’t look broken. Just hold still, and it’ll be over soon."

In the child’s eyes, Xu Yiyuan was far more reliable than her own father. Qi Feng, her tear-streaked face a tiny replica of Qi Haoge’s, nodded solemnly at the Beta uncle.

Xu Yiyuan assessed how her foot was stuck, then gripped her ankle with one hand while lifting the tire with the other. Before Xu Zhangying could understand the technique, Qi Feng’s foot was free.

"Finally out!" Qi Haoge said in relief, straightening up and wiping his sweat.

Xu Yiyuan held Qi Feng, chuckling, "See? Not so bad, right? Beta Uncle told you the truth." Meanwhile, Qi Haoge removed her shoe, rubbed her foot to confirm no cuts or bleeding, then carefully put it back on.

"Can you walk? Let Brother Zhangying hold your hand, okay?" Xu Yiyuan suggested gently, noticing her reluctance to get back on the bike.

Since the adults needed both hands to push the bicycles, carrying or piggybacking Qi Feng wasn’t an option. She tentatively wiggled her foot before nodding hesitantly.

As Xu Yiyuan set her down, Xu Zhangying stepped forward and took the smaller girl’s hand. "Does your foot hurt, Xiao Feng?"

Still teary-eyed and flushed, with sweat-matted bangs, Qi Feng gingerly tested her right foot and mumbled, "Not really... but these shoes were new. Mom’s gonna scold me."

Qi Haoge offered an awkward smile, but Xu Yiyuan just patted his shoulder. "No big deal. Let’s head back together."

So the two adults and two children walked toward the neighborhood, Xu Zhangying holding Qi Feng’s hand as they walked behind the men pushing their bikes. Qi Haoge and Xu Yiyuan made small talk along the way.

Qi Haoge asked, "Yiyuan, did you just get back from Yugoslavia?"

Xu Yiyuan nodded. "Yeah, though it’s not the same 'Yugoslavia' as before. You’ve seen the reports—the region finally elected a president, so the region may finally see some peace for a while."

Qi Haoge sighed. "I admire you. You’re the only reporter from Guangdong dispatched by the central government. After you left, Zhou Ruiguang spent his time gossiping about you at the station. As if everyone doesn’t know he can’t even recognize the English alphabet."

Xu Yiyuan said, "Is that so? I thought he would be busy since he took over 'Urban Coordinates.'"

Qi Haoge replied, "Don’t get me started. He’s ruined every decent show. After Director Zhou handed 'Urban Coordinates' to his nephew, he had to put together a whole new team to help him with the program. But Zhou Ruiguang kept arguing with the director every day. He seemed to think the show only required him to read from the script, but the audience wasn’t having it. For the past six months, they’ve been sending complaint letters demanding you return."

Xu Yiyuan said, "The show’s gone downhill. The market will soon replace it with something else."

Qi Haoge lowered his voice, "I really feel it’s unfair for you. You worked on this show for four years, yet in the end, you got none of the credit. The next quarter is coming up—if you have any new proposals, submit them. Director Li even said publicly last time that you’re the only one left in the station who can produce a good show."

Xu Yiyuan fell silent for a moment before smiling faintly. "There’s never a shortage of good ideas. But after the reforms, the station won’t let me get involved in production anymore. I’ll see. If there’s something suitable, I’ll submit it."

Qi Haoge paused, then sighed. "If they won’t let you do it, why even bother submitting proposals? Why give those incompetents an advantage? They’re just taking advantage of you and Ye Xin because you two don’t have connections."

Xu Yiyuan said, "It doesn’t bother me much. The environment hasn’t deteriorated to the point where I can’t tolerate it. I can still do the work I love."

Qi Haoge laughed. "Yiyuan, you’ve got real backbone. Admirable."

Xu Zhangying listened vaguely to the distant conversation between the station’s top talents. Unnoticed, the two families had already reached the neighborhood entrance. Old-timers lounging by the flower beds to beat the heat greeted Xu Yiyuan and Qi Haoge warmly:

"Xiao Xu, Xiao Qi, picking up the kids together?"

"What a treat seeing our station’s two heartthrobs walking side by side."

Dressed in identical school uniforms, Xu Zhangying and Qi Feng also became the subject of the elders’ teasing. The cheerful chatter in Cantonese quickly enveloped the two children holding hands.

"Zhangying and Xiao Feng are such fine kids, got all the good genes—one takes after their omega mom, the other their alpha dad."

"Exactly! They’re so well-bred. In a couple of years, when Zhangying presents as an alpha and Xiao Feng as an omega, Yiyuan, your two families could even arrange a marriage."

Xu Yiyuan and Qi Haoge, teased by four or five familiar elders with their well-meaning but old-fashioned views, could only smile awkwardly before hurrying the children along into the neighborhood.

"Not so fast, Grandpa Su," Xu Zhangying, still holding Qi Feng’s hand, turned and shouted loudly in Cantonese to the nearest old man. "My dad’s a beta, so I’ll definitely be a beta. Even if I’m not, my mom went to the temple and they told her I might turn out omega!"

"This kid, we’re just saying you’d make a fine alpha—isn’t that a compliment?" The elderly men, waving their palm-leaf fans, looked displeased. "You’re too young to get it. Boys should be alphas, girls should be omegas—that’s the best. You’ll get it when you’re older!"

Once they were finally farther from the gate, Qi Haoge almost choked laughing and asked quietly, "Zhangying, did your mom really say you might be an omega? Do you even know what an omega is?"

"Of course! They can have babies," Xu Zhangying raised his little face with an air of importance. "Xiao Feng’s a girl, so she can already have babies. But I’d need my mom to burn incense and pray for me to have a chance."

Qi Haoge nearly died laughing. He called out to Xu Yiyuan, who was parking the bikes downstairs, "Yiyuan, your kid’s a riot! Where’d he learn all this? Don’t tell me Ye Xin taught him?"

Xu Yiyuan patted his son’s head and sighed. "Zhangying’s not wrong."

Even if both parents were alphas and omegas, the probability of their child being an alpha would still only be about one in ten, going by the odds. For a family like Xu Yiyuan and Ye Xin—a beta and an omega—the child was far more likely to be a beta.

Yet society often treated becoming part of the lucky 20% as some imagined reward or blessing, oblivious to how cruel such expectations were for children who hadn’t even presented yet.

Just then, Qi Feng, standing nearby, wide-eyed at Xu Zhangying, asked softly, "Then, Zhangying-gege, does that mean I could be an alpha too?"

"Of course! It’s scientifically possible. Maybe one day I’ll even be the one having your babies—mmph—"

Xu Yiyuan, watching Qi Haoge laugh uncontrollably, finally covered his son’s mouth in embarrassment. "This is way over your heads—Xiao Feng, do you want to come over for dinner tonight? Uncle’s making steamed fish."

Qi Feng, still holding Xu Zhangying’s hand, hesitated shyly before a woman’s voice suddenly cut in: "Qi Feng, what are you doing?"

At the sound, Qi Feng reflexively let go of Xu Zhangying’s hand. Xu Zhangying looked up to see a woman in her thirties with a low ponytail standing at the nearby concrete intersection, a bag slung over her shoulder. Though plain in appearance, her no-nonsense air screamed boss—even an outsider could tell she was someone in leadership.

Qi Feng quickly bowed her head and whispered, "See you, Uncle Xu, Zhangying-gege," before limping over to the woman, calling out, "Mom."

"Yiyuan, you’re back," Hong Boshu greeted Xu Yiyuan.

Xu Yiyuan also smiled and gave a brief greeting before the two families parted ways. He took Xu Zhangying's hand and walked upstairs.

Xu Zhangying turned his head and heard Hong Boshu’s scolding voice echoing from afar: "What's wrong with your shoes?" "You're so young and already holding hands with a boy. Aren't you ashamed?"

Qi Haoge nearby tried to calm her down under his breath, but the woman's sharp voice still faintly lingered until they entered the neighboring building. Only then, as they walked down the hallway, did Xu Zhangying stop hearing it completely.

As the child of an employee, Xu Zhangying had often played in the TV station building since he was little. Like other kids, he would sprawl across his parent's desk to do homework or peel oranges and snack on sunflower seeds with bored office workers who had time to spare.

Adults always forget what it was like to be children, assuming human kids are like cats and dogs who don’t understand speech. So they often talked freely in front of Xu Zhangying and other little brats, which was precisely why he learned many secrets about the TV station early on.

For instance, like Ye Xin, Qi Haoge was also from out of town. The reason he could stay wasn’t just because of his exceptional looks and voice, but also because Qi Feng’s beta mother, Hong Boshu, was the only daughter of the former station director.

The office gossips used crude attitudes and language when discussing rumors. Sitting on a broad mahogany chair, Xu Zhangying listened as they snickered and vividly recounted how Director Hong had pursued the newly arrived Qi Haoge years ago, and how after marriage, she grew jealous of the omega female host who worked alongside Qi Haoge, leveraging her authority to sabotage her.

In the end, they’d sneered, adding that at least the little girl they had looked like Qi Haoge—otherwise, in a system where you could only have one child, the father’s good genes would’ve gone to waste.

Though Xu Zhangying knew not to believe such gossip—after all, he’d overheard them fabricate stories about how Xu Yiyuan volunteered for disaster and epidemic zone coverage just to suck up to the bosses—he still sensed fragments of truth hidden within the rumors.

"Dad," Xu Zhangying said as Xu Yiyuan took out his keys to unlock the door, "Old Man Su was wrong. Not only do I not want to be an alpha, but Xiao Feng also doesn’t want to be an omega."

"Oh?" Xu Yiyuan looked down at the child, a trace of puzzlement crossing his handsome face. He asked gently, "How do you know Xiao Feng doesn’t want to be an omega?"

"Because Xiao Feng told me Aunt Hong often says at home that she’s destined to just pop out kids for men and be a housewife. So she doesn’t want to be an omega—she wants to be a beta who works and supports herself."

With a *click*, the security door opened. A large hand gently nudged Xu Zhangying inside as Xu Yiyuan asked softly, "What did you say to Xiao Feng?"

Kicking off his sneakers and stepping into slippers, Xu Zhangying replied, "I told her Aunt Hong was wrong. Ms. Ye Xin in our family is also an omega, but she’s always hustling to earn a living."

As he spoke, he felt a hand mess up his hair. His father’s voice followed: "You and Xiao Feng are both smart kids. You don’t need to think about these things now. In a few years, you’ll naturally know what you want."

"I don’t know now?" Xu Zhangying asked loudly, watching the adult roll up his sleeves and walk into the kitchen.

"Nope."

The beta male turned on the faucet and calmly confirmed.

Why wouldn’t people know what they wanted?

At seven years old, Xu Zhangying didn’t understand Xu Yiyuan’s words in that moment. He felt so certain about his own desires.

He wanted to become Xu Yiyuan.

This was more than just parental admiration—the older he grew, the more Xu Zhangying sensed something different about Xu Yiyuan compared to ordinary people.

*"This environment hasn’t deteriorated to the point where I can’t tolerate it,"* Xu Yiyuan had said.

But conversely, if it ever did reach that point, what would Xu Yiyuan do?

Seemingly normal words, ones even adults like Qi Haoge didn’t find odd, carried dangerously warped logic.

It was as if the world Xu Yiyuan truly cared about wasn’t the one around him. His soul, his desires, his gaze—they were all anchored somewhere far away.

The reason Xu Yiyuan still lived among them, acting as an ordinary father, employee, and subordinate, was because he chose to. At that time, Xu Zhangying and Ye Xin meant more to him than whatever he might have wanted to pursue.

Young yet sharp, Xu Zhangying, without even knowing what that other world was, had already sensed the balance in Xu Yiyuan’s mind. With the selfishness and innocence unique to children, he prayed everyday life’s pull would always tip the balance.

But for the Xu Zhangying of 2022, all this was in the past, set in stone. He knew the ending—he himself had been the final hand to shift the scales.

Ye Xin’s career soon took off in the early 2000s. Though not to the point of great wealth, it was enough to defy the era’s norms regarding gender roles.

For instance, Xu Zhangying's first memory of being struck by the impact of money was during the 2001 Lunar New Year's Eve dinner.

Ye Xin pulled out a New Year's gift from her bag for both Xu Yiyuan and Xu Zhangying.

Xu Yiyuan received a Rolex GMT Master with a two-tone bezel, capable of displaying two time zones simultaneously, while Xu Zhangying got a Nokia 3310 with a lanyard—no more needing to hunt for payphones in emergencies.

Xu Zhangying still remembers that moment vividly—the ear-splitting firecrackers and fireworks outside the window, while he and his father sat in stunned silence, their eyes widening belatedly. Even Xu Yiyuan's handsome face wore a rare expression of astonishment.

The 31-year-old Ye Xin, dressed in a camel-colored cashmere sweater, her youthful and pretty face slightly flushed, tried her best to hide her smugness but clearly failed. Finally, she couldn't help but laugh, raising her glass and murmuring in clumsy Cantonese, "No choice, the money’s rolling in."

At that moment, Xu Zhangying naturally felt happy and reassured by his omega mother's success, as it logically meant Xu Yiyuan's ordinary life was becoming more secure.

But he soon realized the rules of the world weren't that simple.

January 2002.

That day, after school, Xu Zhangying returned to the long-unvisited TV station building to retrieve documents for Xu Yiyuan, who was away on assignment. Once again, outside the office door, he overheard the never-ending gossip—and Xu Yiyuan's name.

"...Did you see Xu Yiyuan when he came back from Kabul last month?"

"No way, he actually went to Afghanistan? I thought it was just Xiao Zhang from the news agency talking nonsense. So he went with Phoenix TV's 9/11 reporting team?"

"That's insane. No wonder Qi Haoge suddenly joked with Director Zhong at the dinner table, saying there was no excuse to keep suppressing Xu Yiyuan's programs anymore."

"Aside from Xinhua and Phoenix, there are barely any war reporters in the country. Xu Yiyuan's resume is already so impressive, yet he's still being held back from a senior professional title by Director Zhou and his clique. I'd lose my mind if I were him."

"You're missing the point. That's not what I meant—didn't you see what watch he was wearing when he came back for debriefing? The man was wearing a Rolex! Twenty thousand yuan more expensive than Director Zhong's."

Standing in the hallway, clutching his backpack straps, Xu Zhangying suddenly felt a chill in his chest. Behind the door, the voices grew louder and sharper.

"...Ye Xin's shuttling between Shenzhen and Guangzhou now. Guess how much she's making—definitely more than a seasoned director-producer."

"Xu Yiyuan has it made. Not only did a beta marry an omega, but he's also got Ye Xin earning for him. If I were him, I'd quit journalism."

"Back when Ye Xin married Xu Yiyuan, didn't we all assume it was an omega marrying down? Ye Xin's background was so lacking—education, family, career, all inferior. Who knew the beta would end up moving up in the world? Just proves that old saying..."

The TV station building, constructed in the '80s, had deep hallways with high windows. Winter evenings were fleeting, and though Xu Zhangying in his school uniform hadn't stood there long, by the time he came to his senses, the hallway was already dark.

He didn't listen further. Instead, he sprinted all the way home. As he ran down the sidewalk, he watched the city’s sunset slowly fading, like something inside him.

He sensed the impending reversal of the scales.

June 30, 2003.

Xu Zhangying, carrying his sketchpad, sat in a pavilion, breaking a pineapple popsicle in half with Qi Feng, who was equally sweating buckets.

Qi Feng had been off all year. Though they lived in next-door units, the sudden SARS epidemic had kept everyone indoors during the winter months, so they hadn't seen each other all break.

When school resumed, Xu Zhangying was stunned: Qi Feng was now half a head taller than him.

By the end of the semester, the girl in her sky-blue dress, her hair in a high ponytail, happily licking her popsicle, was a full head taller than Xu Zhangying.

"Qi Feng, something's not right," the 10-year-old Xu Zhangying said suspiciously. "How tall are you now?"

"1.75 meters," Qi Feng replied, licking her popsicle and flipping through a comic on her lap without looking up.

Xu Zhangying turned to her sharply, shocked. "You grew another 4 centimeters this month? Didn't Uncle Qi say anything? Shouldn't you get a physical?"

"Did you forget? Dad was summoned to Beijing by Uncle Xu last month to report on the SARS outbreak. Mom's too busy—she said to wait till he gets back to take me for a checkup."

Qi Feng tilted his head, his face still unchanged from last year—just as innocent and pretty.

Since the SARS outbreak last winter, Xu Zhangying had rarely seen Xu Yiyuan.

As the virus first spread in Guangdong, Guangzhou TV Station had to provide immediate coverage.

But clearly, this was an extremely perilous task, one that could even cost lives. In the end, it was the familiar beta-rank reporter who led a small team of young assistant journalists and cameramen, clad in protective suits, to Shenzhen for the first on-site report, sending back one valuable news dispatch after another.

After the outbreak in Guangdong was brought under control, Xu Yiyuan’s team was reassigned by higher authorities to Beijing, where the situation was even more severe. It wasn’t until the end of May that the epidemic began to improve, prompting the central propaganda department to decide on a TV documentary wrap-up before its conclusion.

Having fought through an entire winter and spring, Xu Yiyuan had already earned influence in planning. So he nominated Qi Haoge and several other outstanding colleagues from Guangzhou—this was a rare opportunity to boost their careers, so Qi Haoge and the others immediately set off for Beijing.

"Oh right, I forgot Uncle Qi went too," Xu Zhangying muttered, licking his pineapple popsicle. "My mom said last week they were coming back, but they still haven’t."

"Eh, A Ying, didn’t you know?" Qi Feng swung his sandaled feet and looked at him in confusion. "My dad called this morning and said they’re arriving in Guangzhou today—their flight’s tonight."

Xu Zhangying’s eyes widened slightly.

Ye Xin was in Shenzhen restocking that day and wouldn’t return until night. She had been making ends meet with grueling work during this period, so Xu Zhangying had long grown accustomed to staying home alone overnight—this time was no exception.

Qi Feng said his mom hadn’t told him the exact flight time. At first, Xu Zhangying assumed it would arrive around eight or nine in the evening. But he lay on the study bed reading Tolstoy until 1:30 a.m., the book falling onto his face three times, and still, no one came home.

So he turned off the light and went to sleep, pretending Qi Feng had never mentioned it.

"...It’s fine. Honestly, I’m not surprised."

A familiar low voice sounded. Hazily, Xu Zhangying struggled to open one eye in the darkness, seeing a sliver of light from the living room seeping through the door crack.

Qi Haoge’s voice seemed to rise again: "Before I left, Director Shen name-dropped you. Even Zhou brought up that program, saying you’d take charge next quarter. Who knew he’d go back on his word now? I never thought someone could be like this!"

"This is normal. This time, I didn’t nominate any of their people—that alone was defiance," Xu Yiyuan replied, his tone calm and unsurprised, starkly different from Qi Haoge’s.

"You’ve spent ten years locked in this battle with Zhou. If it were a different station head, your career would’ve taken a completely different path," Qi Haoge muttered, seemingly smoking in frustration. Three seconds later, he lowered his voice. "I heard the transfer order is imminent—either by year-end or next year. He’s going to be replaced."

"Haoge, I never came back expecting accolades. I’m used to this kind of environment. If anything," Xu Yiyuan chuckled lightly, "this kind of situation keeps me on my toes. It’s fine."

The two adults seemed to continue whispering, but Xu Zhangying could no longer hear them. For some reason, he was bone-tired, his eyelids weighed down as if by lead weights. He remembered nothing else, only the sound of the lights switching off and several soft clicks of doors opening and closing.

After seeing his colleague off, Xu Yiyuan wanted to check on his son but didn’t find him in the bedroom. After searching around, he finally pushed open the study door with a creak and found the kid on the camp bed.

Xu Zhangying remained oblivious, only half-aware that someone had turned off the AC. Then the temperature began to rise rapidly, and suddenly, an intense, familiar pheromone scent—one that felt like it belonged to a past life—flooded the room.

"Xiao Ying, why do you have a fever?"

After dozing a while longer, Xu Zhangying felt himself being lifted, but his limbs felt like jelly, utterly unresponsive no matter how hard he tried. He couldn’t even open his eyes.

That same pheromone scent overwhelmed him, making his head spin and leaving him gasping for air, as if drowning. Soon, he felt himself cradled in an adult’s arms, a digital thermometer slipped under his armpit, then quickly withdrawn.

The person sitting by the bed seemed to glance at the thermometer, immediately alarmed by his fever. He scooped Xu Zhangying up, urgency seeping into his voice. "Dad’s taking you to the hospital now, Xiao Ying. Can you wake up for me?"

Burrowed into his father’s shoulder, Xu Zhangying finally opened his eyes. Only then did he realize it was already morning—the familiar study was bright and sweltering. Xu Yiyuan kept asking him questions, but his throat was parched and aching from the fever, rendering him unable to speak.

Fortunately, on this very day, Ye Xin, who always returned at dawn when leaving him alone, arrived just in time.

The doorknob turned. Ye Xin stepped inside, her bag slung over one arm and breakfast in her other hand, just as a fully dressed Xu Yiyuan was about to rush out with Xu Zhangying in his arms.

"Jesus," Ye Xin gasped at the entrance, reeling from the overpowering tuberose. She steadied herself against the wall, stunned. "Why are my pheromones everywhere—"

Mid-sentence, realization struck. She stared in disbelief at the listless boy in the man’s arms, then at the calendar on the wall, her eyes widening slightly.

"Seriously?"

Although textbooks state that Elite Alphas typically differentiate later than the general population due to their stronger genetic expression in secondary gender traits, Xu Zhangying was an exception.

He differentiated two months earlier than the official group differentiation timeline that year. After three days of physical cooling in the hospital, he began his life as an Elite Alpha.

Ye Xin, an omega who had little family, never expected to give birth to an Elite Alpha child. The staff at the Secondary Gender Management Department kept congratulating and expressing envy during the registration process, but she didn’t see anything particularly worth celebrating—after all, regardless of whether he was A-tier or not, both she and Xu Yiyuan would remain his only family.

How much could a 'gender' really alter someone’s life?

Standing by the glass window, she looked at Xu Zhangying lying inside and said this with a smile to Xu Yiyuan, who stood by the door. But at that moment, Xu Yiyuan didn’t smile back.

The handsome man simply gazed quietly at the sleeping child, his eyes revealing an expression Ye Xin couldn’t decipher.

Three days later, Ye Xin understood what Xu Yiyuan had been thinking at that moment.

That morning, someone suddenly located Xu Zhangying’s hospital room with precision, demanding to meet the child and Ye Xin—for no other reason than that he was Xu Zhangying’s grandfather in name only.

Xu Yiyuan’s biological alpha father, the renowned calligrapher, Xu Minda.

Xu Yiyuan was his third son, the youngest. But unlike his two older alpha brothers, he was a beta, which meant he was practically written out of the family history—after all, betas weren’t even granted full names in the family registry.

So, in truth, Xu Zhangying wasn’t an Elite Alpha born into an ordinary family.

Rather, the world simply didn’t have Elite Alphas born into common families, because "Elite" wasn’t just a gender—it was a class.

Whether it was stronger pheromones or superior perception, none of that truly mattered.

The label "Elite Alpha" itself was what held the most importance. It was an invisible, ghostly divide that split human society and allocated resources according to an already established logic.

Confronted by the smooth-talking Xu Yize and the poised, scholarly Xu Minda sitting calmly in the hospital room chair, the ten-year-old Xu Zhangying had this reality thrust upon him.

Of course, Xu Zhangying didn’t agree to the proposal of "returning" to the Xu family, and neither did Ye Xin.

That afternoon, not long after the Xu family left, Xu Yiyuan finally arrived. When he entered the hospital room, all he saw was Xu Zhangying sitting cross-legged on the bed and Ye Xin packing their belongings.

Xu Yiyuan stood at the doorway, momentarily stunned.

At that moment, Ye Xin had just hung up a call about an overdue payment. She looked up at the man and smiled. "What’s wrong? If you’re looking for your eldest brother and father, sir, you’re a step too late—they’ve already left."

"Why?" A trace of confusion flickered across the beta young man’s face.

"What could we do?" Ye Xin said, crossing her arms as she stood in the sunlight by the window, wearing a wry smile. "You weren’t here, and your son kept insisting he didn’t know them. After talking in circles for a while, they stormed off. Your eldest brother and father have much shorter tempers than you."

Xu Yiyuan asked, "And you?"

"What about me?" Ye Xin spread her hands. "I don’t know them either. Hasn’t it always been just the three of us?"

In the bright afternoon light of the hospital room, Xu Yiyuan smiled faintly. Without hesitation, he walked straight to the bed and stretched out his arms toward the well-behaved Elite Alpha, lifting him up in one swift motion.

"Elite Alphas are something else," Xu Yiyuan said with a laugh. "Other kids just sleep for an afternoon after differentiation, but our Zhangying slept for three whole days."

Ye Xin sighed. "When I got home and opened the door, for a second I thought my mother had come back to life. And even if it’s inherited from me, this is the first time I’ve seen an alpha with a tuberose scent—not exactly badass."

"That’s pheromone discrimination," Xu Zhangying grumbled from Xu Yiyuan’s shoulder. "The doctor clearly said there are plenty of alphas with Type C scent sources."

"That was the doctor trying to comfort you. Take a walk and see for yourself—you’ll see," Ye Xin teased the recovering kid. "Besides, your father and I have met Elite Alphas before. Their pheromones aren’t this sugary."

"Really?" Xu Zhangying believed it and was about to timidly raise his head to ask Xu Yiyuan when the hospital room door was knocked. A nurse who had completed the discharge procedures entered to go over post-discharge instructions with the patient and family.

"Young man, you're only the third Elite Alpha in our Second Gender Ward in so many years. Though it's fortunate, you'll need more pheromone training than other kids afterward."

The head nurse shook hands with Xu Zhangying before turning to the omega mother standing nearby to explain care after secondary gender manifestation.

"No siblings, right?"

"None," Ye Xin replied earnestly as she took the documents handed by the head nurse.

"That's good. Elite Alphas are a bit troublesome—their pheromones are too strong to be around close relatives, as it can cause genetic pheromone conflict. Also, the inhibitors he'll need a year later are different from regular alphas and must be collected here regularly, all free of charge..."

While Ye Xin was carefully reviewing details with the nurses, Xu Zhangying, who had been held for a while, patted Xu Yiyuan's shoulder sheepishly, wanting to stand on his own.

Xu Yiyuan sat the child down on the edge of the bed, watching him bend over to tie his shoelaces. Unable to resist, he reached out to ruffle the boy's hair and whispered with a smile, "It seems you've grown so big in the blink of an eye."

Xu Yiyuan drove them home. That summer was particularly hot. As soon as the car stopped, Xu Zhangying and Ye Xin wanted to dash upstairs to turn on the air conditioning. But just as they were about to enter the building, they heard someone call from above, "Yiyuan!"

Xu Yiyuan, holding a manila envelope, stopped and looked up to see someone leaning out from the neighboring building, waving at them—it was Qi Haoge, his chiseled features lit up. "I knew it was your family when I heard the car."

Within seconds, Qi Haoge hurried downstairs. Spotting Xu Zhangying behind Xu Yiyuan, he bent down with a grin. "Hello, little Zhangying. If I recall correctly, you're only the second Elite Alpha I've ever met in my life."

Xu Zhangying, clutching the back of Xu Yiyuan's shirt, caught a crisp scent reminiscent of cedar and immediately registered the alpha's cheerful mood.

"Sorry to worry you, Haoge. You didn’t have to come down—come upstairs for some tea," Ye Xin greeted with a smile.

"No, I’m about to head to a recording. I knew your family was coming back, so I waited to congratulate you," Qi Haoge said, holding his usual work briefcase as proof.

Xu Yiyuan took Xu Zhangying's hand and smiled at Qi Haoge. "Just an early bloomer—no need to make a fuss."

"No, no. I’m not just here to congratulate little Zhangying, but also you, Yiyuan." Qi Haoge looked up at Xu Yiyuan with a grin.

Seeing his excitement, Xu Yiyuan smiled back. "What’s the good news? I can’t recall."

"*People's Livelihood Time*, remember?" Qi Haoge patted Xu Yiyuan's arm. "Your show got approved by the station—hot off the press. The director’s handing it to you."

Even Ye Xin, long since out of the industry, brightened with surprise, her almond-shaped peach-blossom eyes curving. "Really? That’s wonderful."

But Xu Zhangying felt the grip on his hand tighten momentarily. He looked up to see Xu Yiyuan blink before smiling slowly. "Really? I heard it was given to someone else just days ago."

"Now it’s untouchable," Qi Haoge shook his head, then grinned at the boy. "This time, it’s thanks to our Zhangying. How many in Guangzhou can raise an Elite Alpha? Now the entire station’s in awe of you."

"Perfect timing—you just returned from the epidemic zone. With your track record and skills, by year-end, you could be up for promotion."

*Why?*

Qi Haoge was still cheerfully chatting, but Xu Zhangying’s mind went blank. He couldn’t grasp the adult’s logic.

Though the words sounded fine at first, *why*—did Xu Yiyuan getting his own show have anything to do with his son being an Elite Alpha?

"Is that so?"

Xu Yiyuan chuckled lightly. Xu Zhangying, holding his hand, slowly looked up and saw the contemplative shadow in the beta’s still-smiling eyes. But something in their depths, like the one sunset he’d seen a year ago, had completely faded.

"Haoge, could you do me a favor? Pass a message to the station for me first."

Xu Yiyuan lowered his head, shook the Elite Alpha child’s hand with a smile, then looked up again, his expression now serious.

"Keep the show. I’m done."

Xu Zhangying's eyes widened, and in that instant, he heard the irreversible shift of fate's balance.

2003.

"Do you think fate exists?"

Xu Yiyuan, carrying a travel backpack, bent down to look at him. The 10-year-old Xu Zhangying had no reply, so the man ruffled his hair once more.

"I don't believe in it," Xu Yiyuan replied, and Xu Zhangying saw a bonfire's glow flare in his eyes.

Then, he stood there, watching that tall, upright figure walk out of his life without looking back.