Xia Siqiao's normally amber eyes had darkened into bottomless brown under the force of his emotions. His expression remained indifferent as he applied pressure again. Xia Jie felt every last bit of air in his chest being violently driven out, his face turning crimson from lack of oxygen as veins rose faintly beneath his skin.
“Do you get some huge sense of accomplishment from always having the upper hand over me? Does it make you feel superior?”
Xia Siqiao was very close when he spoke. Alphas were born with a keen instinct for danger, and Xia Jie could feel a bone-deep chill crawl from his heart up his spine before spreading coldly through every limb.
“Tell me, if I really decided to fight you to the bitter end, which one of us would come out ahead? I have nothing to lose, but you have quite a lot you can't bear to let go of, don't you?”
A hoarse, breathless sound rasped from Xia Jie's throat. He clutched weakly at Xia Siqiao's wrist, and the look he gave him carried a faint plea for mercy.
Xia Siqiao laughed softly, though his eyes remained icy. He seized Xia Jie roughly by the collar, dragged him over to the suitcase, and slammed him to the floor.
“Now put everything on the floor back inside, one piece at a time.” Xia Siqiao calmly pulled out a tissue and slowly, meticulously wiped his long, elegant fingers.
It was hard to imagine that such brutal strength had come from those pale, bony fingers and slender wrists.
A thin cloud of dust rose from the floor. Xia Jie panted heavily, his chest heaving fast and hard, his teeth trembling slightly from rage, fear, or perhaps both.
He glared at the overturned suitcase with bloodshot eyes. Only moments ago, he had kicked it over with unbearable arrogance.
“Faster.”
Xia Siqiao's tone was unhurried, neither loud nor soft.
Yet it made Xia Jie tremble as he bent down, almost against his will, and began picking up the scattered belongings.
It was already past eleven at night when Xia Siqiao left the Xia residence. The night wind was cool; he tightened his collar and got into a taxi.
Xia Jie stood beside a darkened window and watched the taxi merge into the sparse stream of traffic, shrinking gradually to a tiny dot before disappearing. A sinister light glimmered in his eyes, as though steeped in poison.
Xia Siqiao wasn't sleepy after returning to the dormitory, so he simply held a pen between his teeth and carefully considered his plans for the future.
There was one thing Xia Jie had been right about: he truly had no intention of going back to that house. That place meant nothing to him.
He needed to become financially independent as soon as possible.
He calculated how much the original owner had left. Xia Yanzhang had never made things difficult for him materially, so the original owner had lived fairly comfortably.
Xia Siqiao lowered his eyes and wrote down the information he had found online,
The dormitory light wasn't particularly bright. The warm yellow glow wrapped gently around Xia Siqiao, and for a time the only sound in the room was the soft scratch of pen against paper.
The sports meet finally opened on one of those eternally “crisp and refreshing autumn days” beloved by school administrators. In all sixteen years of his life, Xia Siqiao had never looked forward to a day this much.
For once, he wasn't defeated by his habit of sleeping in. The moment the alarm rang, he sprang upright and went to the bathroom full of energy.
Foam obscured his vision as he groped out with one pale hand and turned on the tap. A fine stream of warm water poured from the showerhead above. Droplets slid over his pink earlobes, divided along the elegant line of his shoulders and neck, then ran cheerfully downward before gathering into a small stream at the V-lines of his abdomen. It trickled lower until it struck the tiled floor and burst into scattered splashes.
The sound of water stopped abruptly. Xia Siqiao emerged from the mist-filled bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.
Before leaving, Xia Siqiao stood in front of the full-length mirror and looked over himself in the class uniform.
Fang Yuan truly devoted himself heart and soul to being the class sports representative. In more than ten years of school, Xia Siqiao had never seen a student officer with such a sense of mission. From choosing events to designing the parade formation, Fang Yuan handled everything personally.
Even when he went to choose the parade outfits, he had personally tried on the girls' uniforms because he was worried their skirts might be too short and blow up in the wind.
Deputy class monitor Ren Weiyang had gone with him, but he was burdened by too much alpha pride. He refused to wade into that mess and merely watched coldly from the side.
Though he did seize the chance to snap a photo and post it to his Moments.
In the picture, the brawny, six-foot-plus Fang Yuan was wearing a little pink skirt that didn't even reach his knees, seriously posing and inspecting himself in the mirror.
The comments under the photo were unanimously:
Miracle Yuanyuan
It was only because Xia Siqiao had been fortunate enough to witness that photo that he readily agreed to help Fang Yuan in the first place. The guy really had gone through a lot.
Who could have guessed Fang Yuan would turn around and screw him over?
Whatever. It would be over soon.
Xia Siqiao left the dormitory.
The weather really was mild and sunny. The girls didn't feel cold even in bright pink plaid skirts with thin leggings, so while Class 1 waited on the field for the parade, they clustered together chattering. Everyone complained about how ugly the outfits were, but no one complained about being cold.
“Who on earth let Fang Yuan choose our class uniforms? The girls look like attendants at a foot-massage parlor, and the boys have it even worse. We look like we're about to charge off and conquer the sea.” A girl who was usually good at styling clothes complained indignantly.
“I think the real issue is the face. Look at Xia Siqiao. Why the hell does this outfit actually look good on him?” another girl whispered.
Xia Siqiao was in a good mood, so a hint of a smile lingered in his bold, striking eyes as he talked to Su Boran about something. His thick black lashes fluttered like feathered fans, making him so beautiful it was hard to look away.
The red hoodie Fang Yuan had chosen was beyond description. These days, even grandmothers wouldn't dare wear something that bright for New Year. Yet on Xia Siqiao, all anyone noticed was how pale he looked, his skin almost luminous beneath the sunlight.
The trousers were another disaster: tight brown pants that made the other boys look like country bumpkins attending a convention. On Xia Siqiao, however, they only emphasized his excellent proportions. His legs were long, slim, and well-shaped, and because the fabric clung so tightly, the curve of his hips was outlined with painful clarity.
Very pert.
“I could play with Xia Siqiao's legs for the rest of my life. And that ass—my phantom dick hurts just looking at it.” The girls had long since veered off topic, and their chirping conversation grew increasingly unsuitable for polite company.
He Pei stood at the head of the parade formation in a sharply tailored suit. He looked elegant, aloof, and completely out of place beside the rest of Class 1's eye-searing aesthetic.
He Pei glanced back at them coolly. “Get back in formation. We're about to start.”
During the parade, everyone in Class 1 silently agreed to walk as fast as possible. Even the PE teacher repeatedly shouting, “Slow down!” couldn't stop them from moving as though someone had hit fast-forward. Once the school leaders finally finished their speeches, half the class immediately ran off to change.
Xia Siqiao didn't particularly care what he wore. He went straight to the highest row of the stands. The sun was warm and comfortable; after sitting there for only a little while, he grew sleepy, leaned back against the railing, found a comfortable angle, and closed his eyes.