MCFEM C30

Chapter 30 – Rebirth

The narrow alley was steeped in a suffocating atmosphere.

The few lackeys behind Nie Ying shrank back at the sight of his expression, glancing helplessly at one another.

With their family backgrounds, on an ordinary day they weren’t even worthy to act as Nie Ying’s followers, and rarely exchanged more than a few words with him. Now, faced with this situation, they had no idea how to respond.

Regret was already setting in—they’d gained nothing from coming here, and now He Ming’an had remembered their faces.

The two words Nie Ying could least endure hearing these days were maid’s son.

At home, whenever he heard them, he lost control and smashed things, until the day his father came home, caught him at it, and beat him with a golf club. Only then did he behave a little more cautiously.

But that didn’t mean the knot in his heart had been undone.

That was why, even knowing Gu Qingxu had deliberately provoked him into being a pawn, he still couldn’t resist coming to cause trouble for Song Yinxing.

Seeing Nie Ying’s expression twisting out of control, Song Yinxing’s face turned cold as he yanked Gu Yang behind him, stepping forward to block the way.

Nie Ying’s chilling gaze fixed on him.

Perfect. Even this pauper now knew he was the maid’s son.

Gu Yang—how dare he humiliate him like this!

The air was on the verge of exploding.

Just then, a figure rushed over.

Nie Ying looked up—it was his father’s young assistant.

The assistant’s face lit up with relief, his cherubic features brimming with simple-minded sincerity. “Young master, so you were here! I’ve been looking all over. Your father sent me to fetch you. It’s getting late.”

Of course it was a lie. He’d spotted his boss’s useless son cornering someone earlier, but hadn’t dared interfere—he might have been caught up and beaten too.

But now that the He and Gu heirs were involved, he was terrified. If something happened, his insufferable boss would surely pin the blame on him and dock his pay.

“Young master, let’s hurry back. The old master is looking for you. If we’re late and Mr. Nie asks questions, I won’t be able to cover for you.”

When Nie Ying ignored him, the assistant pulled out the ultimate trump card.

At those words, Nie Ying’s bones seemed to ache again, and the image of his father’s violent rage with that golf club flashed vividly in his mind.

“Fine. I’ll let you off for today.” Nie Ying sneered to save face. As he left, he tossed out a threat: “You’d better wait for me!”

Only when Nie Ying’s figure vanished did Song Yinxing slowly relax.

He had just been surrounded and beaten. Avoiding being completely overwhelmed had already been difficult. The stick that had struck his head still left him faint and dizzy. Forcing himself to ignore the discomfort, he wiped the blood from his lip and looked up.

After a long silence, he finally said softly, “Thank you.”

He had lost count of how many times he had been saved now.

Song Yinxing didn’t believe in unprovoked kindness—this world had never been friendly to him.

Yet time and again, he had been pulled from danger, with no expectation of return.

Gu Yang’s eyes didn’t blink as he stared at him.

He was half a head shorter than Song Yinxing, so he had to tilt his chin up to look at him.

Song Yinxing gazed into those gray, misty eyes, watching as a smile slowly spread across his face.

But in the eyes themselves, there wasn’t the faintest trace of a smile.

Up close, he understood why—because the muscles around his eyes didn’t move.

So even while smiling, he radiated cold detachment from the bone outward.

That tiny discovery stirred another faint, indescribable feeling in Song Yinxing’s heart.

“So how do you plan to thank me this time?” Gu Yang asked with a smile, like a child bluntly demanding a gift, expectant for something amusing from the person before him.

Song Yinxing gave him a deep look.

“I’ve been thinking about that—every time, in fact. But I still haven’t found the answer.” The thing he lacked most was money, yet that was precisely what Gu Yang lacked least.

Suppressing his dizziness, he said hoarsely, “…I will definitely give you a satisfactory answer.”

Gu Yang’s lashes trembled slightly.

Somehow, Song Yinxing’s attitude felt different than before, though he couldn’t put it into words.

He only nodded.

—

After parting at the school gates, Song Yinxing called his younger brother.

The phone rang for over twenty seconds before cutting off. Switching to text, he asked if his brother could go to the hospital tonight in his place.

The wound at the corner of his mouth was too obvious—if he went, his mother would ask questions.

A reply came only after some time, full of excuses about too much homework.

Song Yinxing didn’t bother pressing him. He went to the hospital himself.

His mother was still awake, and as expected, she immediately asked what had happened.

He brushed it off, saying he’d tripped and fallen face-first while walking.

She clearly didn’t believe him.

Not wanting her to worry, he added, “I’m really fine. My classmates are nice. Everyone’s busy—they wouldn’t waste time bullying. Look, didn’t I bring a friend to meet you last time?”

That much was true, and it eased her heart.

Quality couldn’t be faked. The boy who had visited her had been raised in obvious privilege.

Even so, she still nagged.

Don’t fight with classmates. Focus on your studies. Don’t shoulder so much.

At last, her energy drained. Her voice softened as she murmured, “We’ll get by. Things will get better…”

He nodded along, but once he turned away, his expression darkened.

Would things really get better?

His father was a gambler—that alone was enough to destroy an ordinary family.

His mother worked in a clothing shop by day, and in the evenings went to other homes as a housekeeper—cooking, cleaning, caring for children.

Even with all her toil, their circumstances never improved. Every cent earned vanished into the bottomless pit.

She always said, He wasn’t always like this.

She would tell her children so, then turn around, trembling, and hand over the savings she had scrimped together to her husband, who begged with pitiful eyes.

She shouldn’t have hoped for humanity from a gambler, yet she lowered her boundaries again and again.

When she finally realized too late, it was already over.

Their money was gone, their house mortgaged. She collapsed in the street, and at the hospital they diagnosed her with a terminal illness, long past treatment.

That had all happened when he was in his third year of middle school. Even then, he had fought his way to the top score in the city.

He could have gone to the top high school, but Guanli High’s admissions office invited him instead.

Tuition-free, with generous stipends—if, at the college entrance exams, he ranked in the top ten of the province. Otherwise, he would have to pay back every cent.

He knew Guanli was an elite school for the rich.

At the time, he hadn’t thought too much. His middle school had rich kids too—ones who wore shoes worth tens of thousands and traveled the world during vacations.

They hadn’t mixed much, but they left him alone.

With Guanli’s resources and teachers, he believed if he just worked hard, he’d be fine.

All he needed was to study. That was the easiest thing left for him.

But things hadn’t gone as he imagined.

Most students left him alone, yes. But one was enough to ruin everything.

Ding Ziyu.

That was the name of his nightmare.

At first, merely annoying.

His deskmate, who never shut up even during self-study, constantly flaunting branded shoes, bags, and allowance.

He disliked him, but tolerated it—until he finally requested a seat change.

That small act made Ding Ziyu fixate on him.

And in ways he never could have predicted, it changed the course of his life.

The door opened. Song Yinxing turned—and froze.

It was someone he never expected.

Ding Ziyu stood there, face tight, signaling for him to step outside.

At the stairwell, where few people passed, Ding Ziyu took a deep breath. “I want to talk to you.”

Song Yinxing’s voice was icy. “How did you know I was here?”

Of course Ding Ziyu couldn’t admit to following him. “Nie Ying. He had people look into you. Even which hospital your mom’s in.”

Song Yinxing’s face hardened.

Seeing it work, Ding Ziyu pressed on. “I know I was wrong before, but I had no choice.”

“It was Nie Ying who ordered me. You know his family’s power—I couldn’t resist.”

Even now, he didn’t dare smear Nie Ying outright.

“The coffee spill too—that was his idea. Because you reported him and ruined his plans. His parents punished him. He was furious, so…”

Song Yinxing stared coldly, contempt flickering in his eyes.

Ding Ziyu faltered.

He cut to the point. “I can give you money.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Don’t play dumb. You came to Guanli for the stipends, right? Your family’s strapped. I saw your mom—sharing a ward with strangers.”

Agitated, he blurted, “I’ll give you seven hundred thousand. That’ll make life easier.”

“But on one condition. You must ask Gu Yang… to revoke my expulsion.”

He truly believed driving Liu Hua to the brink of suicide wasn’t worth this. No one had actually died, right? If not for Gu Yang’s meddling, how could he be expelled?

Song Yinxing stayed silent.

Ding Ziyu clenched his jaw. “One million. I can give you that much, no more.”

Song Yinxing’s face didn’t change.

This battle was already decided. Ding Ziyu’s composure collapsed first. “I can’t get more! My family only allowed this much. I’m begging you.”

“If you don’t help me, I’ll really be expelled.”

In the dim stairwell, Song Yinxing’s features were shadowed. “And what does your expulsion have to do with me?”

Ding Ziyu’s face twisted. “What do you think? Gu Yang’s targeting me to vent for you. What spell did you put on him?”

“Ding Ziyu,” Song Yinxing cut him off, unwilling to drag Gu Yang in, “you know your own sins. You resented me for refusing to help you cheat, so you used Nie Ying to strike at me. You nearly drove Liu Hua to death.”

In his mind flashed the image of Liu Hua leaping from the rooftop, mangled on the ground.

Pain lanced through his skull again, but he forced himself steady. “You brought this on yourself.”

“Liu Hua didn’t die! Maybe he was just acting for sympathy!” Ding Ziyu said desperately. “And yes, I tripped you up a few times, but does that mean I deserve expulsion?”

Song Yinxing’s head throbbed as if to split.

“Do you realize? Expulsion from Guanli would ruin my life! Do you want to destroy me?”

His voice grew shrill, face pale.

He was barely valued at home—only allowed to attend Guanli because he was of an age with the Gu heirs. His stepmother and father hoped he’d build connections.

Gu Yang never cared for him, but through Nie Ying, he occasionally brushed shoulders with Gu Qingxu. That had slightly improved his standing.

If expelled, he couldn’t imagine the hell awaiting him.

“I never really hurt you! Must you push me this far?”

But before he finished, he noticed something odd in Song Yinxing’s eyes—like he’d woken from a nightmare, his gaze cold and unreadable. Instinct screamed at Ding Ziyu to retreat.

But there was nowhere to run.

Minutes crawled by with no answer from Song Yinxing.

His last defenses broke. Trembling, he dropped to his knees.

“Please,” Ding Ziyu pleaded, eyes locked on him. “Take it as payback for when I made you lick my shoes. I’m begging you. Let me go.”

A strange humming filled Song Yinxing’s ears, but his head hurt less now.

Staring at the once-arrogant tormentor kneeling before him, he felt no satisfaction.

He remembered too clearly—how his father would kneel before his mother, sobbing, swearing it was the last time, that he would change.

He had long known—those who knelt so easily were the most dangerous.

He no longer wished to deal with Ding Ziyu. Just looking at his face left him breathless, chest tight.

Somehow, it felt like more had happened between them than what he remembered.

When he turned to leave, Ding Ziyu’s eyes went bloodshot with panic.

It was over.

Truly over.

He had begged everyone possible. Nothing could stop his expulsion.

All because of Song Yinxing.

Desperation locked his gaze.

Suddenly, he lunged, aiming to shove him down the stairs.

Caught off guard, weakened already, Song Yinxing couldn’t dodge.

They both fell.

Darkness blurred his vision. As consciousness slipped away, he heard hurried footsteps and shouts.

He didn’t know how long passed—long enough to feel like a lifetime—before awareness returned.

Slowly, Song Yinxing opened his eyes. His obsidian pupils stared lifelessly up at the ceiling.