Sons of High Society - Chapter 1：Prologue

15 Years Ago:

Xue Guangli climbed over the ledge of her window, onto the lower roof of her house. It was spring; the horizon glimmered sunburst gold, descending until the sky deepened into deep violet with orange hues. They weren’t supposed to be on the roof, and yet, she was curious as to what her best friend wanted to show her.

The roof was slanted, but not steep. They both shuffled down carefully, towards the edge. If Xue Guangli were to fall, she would get minor injuries, nothing too dangerous, she thought.

“What is it that you wanted to show me?” she asked her best friend, Zi Yingtai.

Ying looked at her; her golden hair curled to her chest; her eyes sparkled honey-brown. She smiled mischievously at Xue Guangli. She then nodded over towards their right, and when Xue Guangli looked, her mouth slightly gaped, her eyes widening.

“I knew you had the best view of the boys from this part of your house,” Ying said to her.

There was a towering hedge that bordered the houses between Xue Guangli’s and her neighbours, the Long’s. When Xue Guangli peaked over, she could see a group of boys either swimming in the pool or fooling around on the grass.

They were the Sons of the High Society.

The High Society is a group most exclusive towards the elite and wealthy, politicians, celebrities, and CEOs—all rich and all famous. The High Society was a nickname for the men who knew each other since childhood, forming a bond, keeping it secure until adulthood.

The boys in the yard were their sons, the future heirs, and successors of whatever their fathers have accomplished and developed.

Amongst the boys was her neighbour, Long Huojin. Xue Guangli knew Long Huojin since they learned how to walk as their families had always been close.

But Xue Guangli never got along with him, despite their family’s best efforts.

Long Huojin often ignored her, behaved indifferently; it was as if to him, she was air he could step over, and she hated him for it.

But of all the boys, Long Huojin’s family were the wealthiest; it was almost sickening that they had so much money.

“Why are we even here?” Xue Guangli asked Ying. She felt like it was a waste of time staring at boys. She would rather do anything else. Perhaps they could bug her older sister instead since she got annoyed easily.

“Our fathers are going to arrange for us to marry one of them someday. Aren’t you at least in the slightest interested in choosing, or guessing which one?” Ying asked Xue Guangli. Xue Guangli shrugged; she didn’t particularly care. But she understood why Zi Yingtai would.

Ying was beautiful, kind, and very easy to fond over. She was the perfect and obedient daughter. She played by the rules and yet was rebellious at the same time. Perhaps that’s why they got along.

Zi Yingtai’s father was also part of the older generation, but girls were never allowed in their exclusive group, which pissed Xue Guangli off even more.

“They seem like sexist douchebags to me,” she blurted out to her best friend.

Zi Yingtai looked over at her, shooting a look of disdain as if she said something forbidden.

“Where did you even learn to speak like that?” she asked her. Xue Guangli thought for a moment before sighing, “My older sister,” she responded.

Ying rolled her eyes, “That is something Teegan would say.”

Zi Yingtai looked over at the boys admiringly. Xue Guangli could tell that her best friend’s interest in boys has piqued. They were eleven-years-old now.

Xue Guangli heard what girls at school talk about when they speak with them. It feels as if the core of your stomach had dropped; your heart begins to pound relentlessly, out of control, persistently—at least that’s what she heard. Xue Guangli had never felt that, and she can’t imagine herself ever feeling that way.

But she knew that her best friend was at the age and time. She was thinking about boys now, inevitably. But Xue Guangli didn’t want to worry over something so trivial and bothersome.

“I don’t see what’s the point of wanting to choose. We’re still young.” Xue Guangli stated, but Zi Yingtai wasn’t paying attention to her; she was gazing over at the boy lying down lazily on a pool chair, reading a book.

Xue Guangli noticed how intensely she looked at him. It was Long Huojin. He was reading intently when he suddenly tilted his head back, his slender arm curled beneath his head. He glanced up at them and smirked with his cruel lips.

Zi Yingtai looked away, pretending as if she wasn’t watching him. Xue Guangli’s breath hitched.

All of the sons are perfect, driven, and handsome, she knew, but Xue Guangli hated them. And she hated Long Huojin most of all. Xue Guangli hated Long Huojin so much; that sometimes, whenever he looks at her, she could hardly breathe.

Long Huojin went back to his reading without saying a word or informing his friends that they were being watched.

Xue Guangli chuckled, leaning back on the tiles of the roof. “There he is! The achingly handsome and devastatingly perfect, Long Huojin!” She exclaimed sarcastically, quietly that only her best friend could hear. She spread her arms wide, imitating one of his fans. She was well aware of how girls acted around him; it was ridiculous.

Zi Yingtai furrowed her brows, blushing. Xue Guangli laughed. “If it’s Long Huojin that you want, I’m sure it’s you he will pick.” Xue Guangli was sure of her opinion.

Many boys liked Zi Yingtai, whereas many boys didn’t like Xue Guangli. She was too competitive, too questioning, and always stuck up for her self. She would never feign as a damsel in distress.

In the future, perhaps Long Huojin would fall for Zi Yingtai, at least the universe would be in the right order. Perfect often end up with perfect; it was imminent.

“Hey, look!” said one of the boys below, pointing up at them.

Xue Guangli began to crawl away abruptly. “Let’s go!” she said to Zi Yingtai. They both laughed as they climbed back into her bedroom.

Once they got in, they leaned over the window, seeing if the coast was clear. But the boys had gathered near the hedge looking up at them. Long Huojin, on the other hand, stayed seated on his pool chair.

The girls giggled. Although Xue Guangli didn’t like watching them, the thrill of hiding and getting caught gave her some excitement.

That night, Zi Yingtai slept over at her house, and her father picked her up in the morning.

The next day was Sunday. Xue Guangli spent the day with her sisters, and when she wasn’t with them, she was painting—lost in the art of brushing strokes on a canvas, creating something from the flashes of her mind, but Xue Guangli felt helpless because she couldn’t get anything quite right.

Xue Guangli decided to go outside as she looked at a weeping willow tree, trying to mimic the image of the trunk of the tree that sprouted into branches and boughs with long vines.

Just when she began brushing the strokes on her canvas, she heard loud music pierce her ears, startling her. Xue Guangli fell out of the chair, taking down some of the paint, spilling on her white shirt. Some of the colour matted into her red-brown hair.

Xue Guangli stood up, soaked, walking over to Long Huojin’s house. He was alone, wearing sunglasses as he laid underneath the blazing sun. She approached him coated with paint. He didn’t see her coming. She found his speaker, shutting it off.

Long Huojin glanced at her indifferently, removing his sunglasses; his jet-black hair tumbled over his brows. He stared at her with his depthless, pale-blue eyes, penetrating her with a deep, dark gaze. Xue Guangli’s chest begun to thunder like war drums; she felt like she was about to go in a frenzy, but she could not have said why.

Was it hatred? Was it pure rage? She did not know.

Her chest rose and fell as she stood in front of him; her eyebrows knitted as she held her hip with both hands.

“Why did you shut my music?” he asked her deeply.

Xue Guangli furrowed her brows. She glanced at herself, covered in paint.

“Why must you be so annoying. Can’t you be considerate?” Xue Guangli asked him.

Long Huojin sat up, smirking, glancing at her up and down. “How was I supposed to know you were painting?” he asked her in a teasing smile, nearly chuckling.

Xue Guangli was fuming with rage; she was still wet with paint. So she approached him swiftly, beginning to smear the paint on him. Long Huojin grasped her wrists gently, trying to prevent her from painting him.

She kept fighting him to paint him, but he laid underneath her, laughing. She then struggled out of his grip, smearing it on his face and body; that was when his friends walked outside, whistling.

Xue Guangli hovered above Long Huojin when she quickly shuffled away. She then stood up and walked away, but the boys ran to block her, staring at her curiously.

“Let me go through,” she said.

One of the boys stood forward. It was Yin Shou, a boy she went to school with. “Xue Guangli, why don’t you stay with us?”

Xue Guangli hesitated. Of course, she wanted to stay with them. Every day they looked like they were having fun, enjoying themselves recklessly. But she hated them because they didn’t allow girls in their group.

“What are you doing, Shou?” another boy asked him, Wang Weimin, he also went to her school. “Girls aren’t allowed,” he finished.

But Yin Shou stood in front of her, smirking. “We should let her stay.”

But Xue Guangli looked at him with narrowed eyes, knowingly. He wanted her to stay to make a fool out of her. She was soaked with paint. Can’t they see that? She then passed him, brushing his shoulder, and headed home.

—

10 Years Ago:

In the vast open space during a hot summer day, the sound of night-calling insects enveloped the air along with the sighing trees. Twelve young men stepped through the gates of their school, wearing their pressed white uniforms; they hung their white blazers over the shoulders, speaking to each other. Xue Guangli walked behind with them; her matching white-and-black patterned kilt swayed slightly above her knees.

Xue Guangli remembered for years, the boys always teased her because she was associated with Long Huojin, and they were intrigued. She then grew up with them. Some of them were her neighbours, while the others went to her school.

She befriended them, but Wang Weimin, their leader, never allowed her into the group. But the boys still wanted her to be around them. She was considered an unofficial member.

Xue Guangli was falling behind as the thirteen of them walked towards their school when Wang Weimin, the chestnut-brown haired and green-eyed boy, paused. “Guangli, don’t fall behind,” he told her softly.

All the members paused, looking toward her, even Long Huojin loomed at the front beyond them, stopped; his ink-black hair tumbled over his eyes, caressed by the hot wind. But he wasn’t looking at her, only on-looking at the space beyond.

Xue Guangli carried her shoulder bag with both her hands as she looked at her friends. “Mhm,” she said, walking faster, catching up to them.

As the years flew by, Xue Guangli continued to associate herself with them. But she pined over their leader, Wang Weimin. Wang Weimin had grown past his immature nature against women, but Long Huojin had always been wicked and vile towards her, and she hated him for it.