The Mask Between Them

The city of Jiangsu pulsed with its usual rhythm—neon lights flickering, cars weaving through the avenues, skyscrapers reaching for the heavens. In such a city, power was currency, and both Gu Chengyao and Lin Yicheng wielded it effortlessly.

But tonight, their paths crossed again, away from polished boardrooms and contracts.

The evening banquet was hosted by the Chamber of Commerce, a gathering of the country’s most influential figures. Wine flowed freely, silk gowns shimmered, and behind every toast lay veiled calculations.

As the honored heirs of their respective empires, both Chengyao and Yicheng were naturally present.

Chengyao entered first, his presence commanding the room the way a storm commanded the seas. Alphas and Betas alike straightened their posture when his gaze swept over them.

And then—Yicheng appeared.

A tailored white suit, refined and understated, Omega grace in every step. His lips curved in the faintest polite smile as he greeted the crowd. But what drew every whisper was not his attire—it was the black silk mask covering the lower half of his face.

“Director Lin seems fond of masks lately,” someone murmured nearby. “Is it fashion, or…?”

“Perhaps it’s health. Omegas can be delicate,” another speculated.

Chengyao narrowed his eyes, watching as Yicheng moved through the room with that same untouchable poise.

He couldn’t look away.

Later, when the banquet’s crowd had thinned and polite laughter drifted into softer murmurs, Chengyao cornered him near the balcony.

The night air was cool, the city lights stretching endlessly below. Yicheng had stepped out for a moment of quiet, fingers curled around a crystal glass of champagne.

And then the door opened behind him.

“Director Lin.”

That voice—steady, deep, carrying weight even without effort. Yicheng turned, his heartbeat stuttering as his gaze fell on Chengyao framed by the doorway.

For a moment, neither spoke. Only the faint hum of music from inside filled the silence.

Finally, Chengyao stepped closer, his sharp eyes lingering on the mask.

“Why do you always wear that?”

Yicheng blinked.

“…Pardon?”

“The mask.” Chengyao’s tone was deceptively casual, but his gaze was piercing. “You wore one during our last meeting as well, didn’t you? And again tonight. Is it a habit, or a shield?”

The question cut deeper than it should have. Yicheng’s grip on the glass tightened.

Shield. Yes, it was exactly that—a shield to hide the lines of his face, the parts of him that might betray the boy he once was.

But aloud, he said with practiced calm:

“Omegas are prone to weaker constitutions. My doctor recommended I avoid crowded places without precaution.”

“A precaution,” Chengyao repeated, his tone unreadable. He studied Yicheng for a long moment, as if searching for cracks in the mask—both literal and figurative.

At last, he gave a faint smile.

“Strange. Even half-hidden, you still seem… familiar.”

The champagne glass trembled faintly in Yicheng’s hand. He turned away, gazing out at the skyline to hide the turmoil in his expression.

“President Gu must be mistaken. I assure you, we’ve never met before.”

“Never met,” Chengyao echoed softly. Yet the way his eyes lingered suggested doubt, as though he wanted to peel away every layer and see the truth beneath.

Inside, the banquet carried on without them. But on that balcony, the distance between the two men felt impossibly close—like a storm on the horizon, inevitable, waiting to break.

Yicheng’s pulse pounded. He could feel Chengyao’s gaze still on him, heavy, searching. If the Alpha pressed further, if he pulled the mask away—

No. I can’t risk it.

He placed the glass down, offering a shallow bow.

“If you’ll excuse me, President Gu. The hour grows late.”

And before Chengyao could stop him, Yicheng slipped back inside, vanishing into the crowd with that same composed elegance.

Alone on the balcony, Chengyao stood in silence. The city lights reflected in his eyes, sharp and restless.

Director Lin… Who exactly are you?

The name tasted foreign on his tongue, yet the man himself was anything but. Each encounter left him unsettled, chasing a memory he couldn’t grasp.

For years, he had built walls around himself, burying the past beneath steel and ambition. And yet this Omega, with his half-hidden face and unreadable eyes, stirred something he had long forgotten.

Something dangerous.

That night, Yicheng sat in his suite again, staring at the mask he had set on the table. His reflection stared back at him in the dark window—half-Alpha, half-disguised Omega.

The mask had kept him safe. But for how long?

Because Gu Chengyao was already suspicious.

And once an Alpha like him began to pursue an answer… there would be no escape.

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