Chapter 2

Noon sun poured through the skylight. Even early spring, the attic felt like an oven.
Half asleep, Bai Xu heard his phone buzz.
He frowned, grabbed it. Unknown number—
“Mr. Bai, hello. I’m Mr. Shang’s assistant, Xie Qi. Old Madam asked me to handle your arrangement with Third Young Master. If all’s well, I’ll pick you up at the Bai residence at 2 p.m. Awaiting your reply.”
Another text—from Huashang Bank.
New card linked to his phone. Five minutes ago, a deposit hit. Seven figures.
“……”
Rich people moved fast and spent big. Even a marriage in name only—that bride price could fund a normal life for years.
Bai Xu’s brow eased. Waking up to that number killed half his morning mood.
“Fine. See you at two.”
He sent it and looked around—
This cramped attic used to be storage. Bare as it gets. The original had lived here for years. That said everything.
He’d missed lunch. No interest in running into the family downstairs. Sweaty from sleep, he grabbed clean clothes and hit the second-floor bathroom.
Warm water. Fatigue washed off.
His head cleared. Since transmigrating he’d mapped the original’s whole life—
Raised on charity, the kid went soft as cotton.
No allowance? He found work. Trouble? He swallowed it. Rarely fought back. No real friends. Even his feed was locked to “only me.”
In the book’s few lines, after “marrying” into the Shangs he turned invisible again—until the internal war. Easy to push, he became a scapegoat and went to prison.
Despised. Pathetic. Short.
Bai Xu’s eyes sharpened. He and the original were opposites. He wasn’t walking that road.
This marriage was step one out of the Bai house.
Showered, he headed back to the attic—and stopped in the doorway.
“Well. Fresh out of the shower?”
Lazy mockery up front.
Disgust flickered. He sized up the man leaning on his desk—
Bai Yan was the Bai family’s real second young master. One year older. Average face, spoiled rotten. Arrogant since birth.
Tormenting the original was his hobby. Half the original’s humiliating stories started with him.
Bai Xu didn’t want trash near him. “My room. Out.”
Light tone. Clear meaning.
Bai Yan scoffed and closed in. “Dad says you’re ‘marrying’ into the Shangs? Think you’ve got backup now? Think you can act out?”
“……”
Flat gaze. Not worth words.
Maybe from the shower—light scent, skin pink from hot water, damp bangs hiding the fresh scar where the bandage had come off.
Bai Yan’s eyes wandered. Mouth went dry. He reached—
Bai Xu dodged.
“I said out.”
Rejected—and Bai Yan didn’t explode. He laughed. “Huh. Two weeks away and your temper grew?”
For the record, Bai Yan gave him that forehead wound.
Two weeks ago Bai Rendao named Shang Yanxiao for the match. The original refused—rare loud fight. Bai Yan, bored nearby, kicked him when he wasn’t looking.
Small frame, bad luck—head cracked on a coffee table. Blood. Out.
Bai Yan knew he’d gone too far and hid for two weeks. Just back, and the marriage was official.
Bai Yan stared at that face, sure he still had the soft one pegged. “Fine, I went too hard. Who told you to be difficult? Let me see if the wound healed.”
—Smack.
Bai Xu slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
He walked past stunned Bai Yan toward the bed.
Bai Yan watched his back. The slapped arm tingled. Anger flared. “Bai Xu, I’m being nice and you—?”
“What are you? Think the Shangs make you somebody? Without us you’d still be working odd jobs.”
“You took our money. Act like it!”
The mask dropped. Words turned filth. “Some marriage? Same as selling yourself. With your build you wouldn’t last two rounds.”
“……”
Trash mouth.
Bai Xu listened. Something dark crossed his eyes.
Silence made Bai Yan think he had him again. Sneer.
His gaze slid to Bai Xu’s neck—and stuck on the brown mole at the base of his skull. His pulse jumped.
Breath roughened. Irritation burned.
He’d always had dirty ideas about Bai Xu. Old Master Bai and the “brother” label had kept him in check. He’d waited for his chance.
Then the old man died—and Bai Xu was leaving.
Some marriage?
Strike when you’re close. If Bai Xu was getting sold, Bai Yan would taste first.
He shut the door.
Bai Xu spun. One look at Bai Yan’s eyes and he knew.
“……”
Oh. Begging for it.
Bai Xu lowered his lashes. Cold flicker. When he looked up, his whole face changed—steps stumbling back, panic.
“W-what are you doing?”
The nightstand blocked retreat. He half-slid against it. Nowhere to go.
Bai Yan closed in, looking down at prey. “Scared now?”
“You—”
Bai Xu’s throat moved. Weak. “…Don’t.”
No threat. Shoulders shaking just enough to invite the wrong urge.
Bai Yan felt Bai Xu shrink. Sure win. “Old Master Bai bought the fortune-teller’s line and adopted you. He’s gone. Who in this house gives a damn about you now?”
“This is my house. I do what I want. You scream—who do you think they’ll side with?”
“……”
“You’re getting sold anyway. Let me try first.” Bai Yan pressed closer, want bare on his face. “Play nice and I’ll go easy.”
Bai Xu looked broken. No fight left.
“Smart.” Bai Yan liked it. He tilted toward Bai Xu’s ear. “Relax. I’ll make it good.”
The second he finished, “broken” Bai Xu moved—
Close range. Knee up. Hard. Right where it counted.
“—Ah!”
Bai Yan folded. Hit the bed, face red, pain so bad he wanted to curl up.
Veins on his forehead. He stared at Bai Xu, disbelief choking him. “Y-you—!”
“What about me?”
Bai Xu grabbed the desk lamp and swung.
Scream. Blood blurred Bai Yan’s sight. Through the red, Bai Xu stood cold—someone else entirely.
Not prey. A snow leopard about to kill.
Seconds later Bai Yan’s smirk was gone. Fear drilled through him. “W-what are you—?”
“I should ask you that.”
Bai Xu touched his scar. “Payback.”
Every prank and hurt the original took in this house—he was collecting before he left.
The locked door opened from outside.
Qian Shuling heard her son scream and rushed in with a maid—they had a spare key. The original never had privacy here.
She saw blood on Bai Yan’s forehead and lost color. “What happened!”
“Yan’er—let Mom see!”
“Mom—”
Bai Yan could barely talk.
A man in his twenties, hiding in his mother’s arms like a toddler. Disgusting.
“Get the first-aid kit! No—call an ambulance!”
Qian Shuling snapped at the maid, then turned on the culprit. “Bai Xu, you did this! You’ve got nerve now!”
Bai Xu narrowed his eyes. “What are you squawking about?”
“……”
Qian Shuling froze.
“Why not ask what he tried to do to me?”
Not a trace of guilt. The lamp hit the floor at Qian Shuling’s feet.
Clang.
Mother and son flinched.
“Even a cornered rabbit bites. Call this—”
Bai Xu paused, voice light. “Self-defense.”