Little Sweet O Transmigrates Into the Body of the Villainous Fake Young Master - Chapter 12

As the couple departed, the grand hall relapsed into that uncanny, freezing silence. Even Uncle Lu dared not utter a single word.

It was only when Teng Song finished that negligible glass of peach wine and set it heavily onto the table that he broke the silence. His tone remained deep and ominous. “When He Ji was hospitalized, Teng Ruicheng and He Xitang must have given Yingzhi a hard time over it, didn’t they?”

Uncle Lu quickly replied, “The Master was as usual, mostly dazed and out of it, but the Madam was truly blinded by her rage.”

Uncle Lu then gave a brief account of what had happened the day after He Ji’s admission. When he mentioned He Xitang attempting to hit Teng Yingzhi, and even lashing out with hurtful words like “If you can’t tolerate Xiao Ji, then get the hell out,” the hostile air between Teng Song’s brows darkened significantly.

“She certainly thinks highly of herself,” Teng Song sneered. As for whose home this actually belonged to, the final say did not rest with her.

Without asking further, Teng Song stood up to go look for Teng Yingzhi. Before he could even step out of the grand hall, however, his sharp instincts made him stop in his tracks. A rich, concentrated aroma of peach wine drifted over. Unlike its usual faint, fleeting presence, it was now so heavy it could practically drown someone. While it instantly pacified Teng Song’s volatile irritation, a hidden, subtle emotion began to brew in a place he hadn’t yet realized.

His gaze locked onto the corridor around the corner. Even without seeing anyone, he knew Teng Yingzhi was hiding right there.

Teng Song could not yet pinpoint the exact emotions of joy or sorrow from this scent, but for the wine fragrance to be this potent, it meant Teng Yingzhi was experiencing an immense emotional upheaval.

Walking over, he indeed found the young man with flushed, red rims around his eyes at the turn of the hallway. Teng Yingzhi caught fright when Teng Song appeared, yet there was no fear in his eyes, only a pool of tears and a fleeting, fragile sense of security he had just managed to grasp.

Stirred by that look, Teng Song let out a soft sigh. He stepped forward, looking down at him. “I am right here. What are you afraid of?”

Teng Yingzhi had been holding back his tears, but the moment he received this comfort, they spilled over instantly.

It was rare to catch him crying like this. Before Teng Song could even wipe the tears away, Teng Yingzhi crashed straight into his embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around the man’s lower back, his sobbing soaking through Teng Song’s shirt. Teng Song patted him helplessly, thinking to himself that it was fine, at worst, he just wouldn’t change his clothes today.

Having suffered so much injustice at the hands of his parents, Teng Yingzhi completely unleashed his pent-up grievances while clinging to the brother who defended him. The more he cried, the more overwhelmed he became, recklessly blurting out, “Brother, you’ll end up hating me more and more in the future, just like Mom and Dad do.”

“Is that so?” Teng Song found it somewhat amusing.

“Yes!” Teng Yingzhi insisted with absolute certainty. Yet, his arms clamped even tighter around the man, as if terrified that Teng Song would run away, run over to He Ji’s side, and never look back at him again.

“Then that will depend on your behavior.”

Hearing Teng Song’s reply, Teng Yingzhi cried even harder. In the future, he wouldn’t even get a chance to behave well. The control of the plot and the shackles of the world’s consciousness would only force him to obediently play the role of the obnoxious, fake young master. His brother’s current protection was so precious to him that he barely dared to relish it, terrified it would vanish the moment he gave it a second thought.

This was the first time Teng Song had ever been this close to Teng Yingzhi. The moment he lowered his head, even without actively breathing, he could feel that rich wine fragrance flooding his nasal passages. It felt as though he was nearing the very source. Bowing his shoulders slightly, he buried his face closer and instantly located the origin of the continuous flow of wine fragrance.

It was the back of his neck.

Subconsciously, Teng Song reached out with his cool fingertips to touch the back of Teng Yingzhi’s neck. However, the moment he grazed the skin before he could even properly feel it, the young man in his arms reacted like a startled small animal. He swiftly pushed Teng Song away, covering the back of his neck with one hand as he leaped two large steps backward.

Startled out of most of his sorrow, Teng Yingzhi stared at him as if facing a formidable enemy, his hand still guarding his neck. “What are you doing?”

With one hand still suspended in mid-air, Teng Song slowly straightened his spine, maintaining his usual unshakable composure. “What’s wrong?”

Snapping back to his senses, Teng Yingzhi instantly realized he had overreacted. The gland at the back of the neck was a secondary sexual characteristic. To an Omega, it was an exceptionally private area, and touching it carried an inherently intimate connotation, something meant only between people in a romantic or sexual relationship.

But there were no ABO genders in this world, and his brother had no idea he was an Omega.

A flush of crimson stained Teng Yingzhi’s cheeks. Knowing he had overthought things, he explained lamely, “I, my neck is ticklish…”

Teng Song narrowed his eyes slightly. Ticklish? It should be that specific, special spot that was rather sensitive instead. He pinched his fingertips together. He hadn’t managed to feel it fully just now, but the moment he touched the skin, nothing had seemed out of the ordinary.

“Alright, I won’t touch you there in the future,” Teng Song said.

The embarrassment on Teng Yingzhi’s face deepened. He didn’t even dare to look up at him. It was a perfectly simple exchange, and his brother knew nothing, yet Teng Yingzhi, still shielding his gland, couldn’t help but find the answer a little strange, carrying an indescribable hint of intimacy.

Teng Song took a step forward, raising his hand to wipe away the boy’s tears.

After what had just happened, Teng Yingzhi didn’t dare to make any further fuss, letting the man wipe his face. Yet, for some reason, it didn’t feel like his brother was trying to wipe the tears away at all. Instead, it felt like he was smearing them flat, messing them all over his face, and staining his entire hands with them.

“Go wash your face. I’ll wait for you in the kitchen,” Teng Song said, thoroughly satisfied now that his hands were covered in tears. Only then did he let the boy go.

Without a second thought, Teng Yingzhi scrambled upstairs and ran back to his room. He washed his face and applied his medicine before heading back down.

Beside the kitchen island, Teng Song sat waiting for him, his long legs crossed in a regal yet casual manner. He rested his arm on the counter, his thumb against the side of his ear while his hand half-covered his mouth and nose. His eyes were closed as he dozed, his posture dripping with a profound laziness, looking as though he were savoring some secret, hidden pleasure.

Teng Yingzhi didn’t dare to question him. Tying his apron on, he walked to the opposite side to continue making the cake. But as he drew closer, he noticed a faint, glistening dampness peeking through the gaps of the fingers covering his brother’s nose and mouth. He instantly realized those were his own tears. His brother hadn’t fully dried after wiping them… Wait, that wasn’t right. Why hadn’t his brother washed his hands!

He suddenly recalled yesterday when his brother had worn gloves while taking a shower, claiming his hands were stained with something he couldn’t wash off for the time being. Weren’t the stains on his hands yesterday tears as well…

“What are you looking at?” Teng Song slowly opened his eyes, his dark irises radiating an innate authority.

Before Teng Yingzhi could figure it out, his train of thought was broken. Feeling that he was overthinking things yet again, he turned around and ran to the refrigerator to take out the cheese mixture he had prepared and chilled earlier.

After rolling the ladyfingers in the liquid, he layered them at the bottom of the mold. He smoothed down a layer of cheese mixture, placed another layer of biscuits, and then spread another layer of cheese mixture, turning the mold around until it was perfectly even. He then placed his hands on his hips happily. “Done! Now we just need to leave it in the fridge for a few hours and dust it with some cocoa powder before eating.”

Teng Song gave a brief grunt in response.

It seemed he had sat there merely to keep Teng Yingzhi company until the cake was finished. Standing up now, he said, “I’m going to the study.”

With that, he left the small building directly.

Teng Yingzhi blinked. Earlier, he had assumed his brother was intentionally tailing him, but now he felt he was just reading too much into things.

The snow outside was still falling, accumulating into a thick, heavy layer. After washing his hands, Teng Yingzhi shook the water off his fingers and went upstairs, deciding to head into the studio. There was still about half a month left before the Lunar New Year, which should be just enough time to finish another painting.

The studio had already been tidied up by someone. Everything Teng Yingzhi had touched the last time was organized and put away, and the paints had been fully replenished. The ruined painting was still there, neatly gathered and stacked together, placed quietly beneath the easel, waiting for its owner to handle it personally.

Looking at the pile of shredded canvas made Teng Yingzhi feel uncomfortable, so he picked it up and threw it straight into the trash can.

Selecting a new circular frame, he meticulously stretched the canvas, abandoning his previous concept entirely. Perhaps because he knew someone was protecting him now and that the storm wouldn’t hit so soon, his mind gradually settled into a calm state as he leisurely applied the base coat.

He stayed in the studio for a long time, so engrossed that he didn’t even hear the knocking on the door. Contrasting small patches of color were dabbed here and there when Teng Song’s deep voice resonated from behind him, “What are you painting?”

The canvas was covered in patches of color, big and small, to the point where not even an outline could be discerned, let alone what he actually intended to paint.

Turning his head, Teng Yingzhi immediately flashed a bright smile upon seeing the visitor. “I’m not telling you.”

“It’s not a gift for me anyway, so what’s the use of hiding it from me,” Teng Song teased.

Teng Yingzhi swirled his brush in the water bucket to rinse off the paint. Choosing not to take the bait, he asked instead, “Did you need me, Brother?”

“I came to get you for lunch. You were hiding in the studio, so no one dared disturb you,” Teng Song said, giving him a light tap on the head before turning to leave first.

“Okay, I’ll be down in a second.” Teng Yingzhi quickly added a few more strokes to prevent the paint from drying out before the shape could even form while he went down for lunch.

Teng Song didn’t wait for him. By the time Teng Yingzhi jogged downstairs, lunch was already halfway through. On his wrist, he wore the conch pearl bracelet his brother had gifted him for his birthday last year. Teng Yingzhi had fished it out from the pen holder again to put it on.

Teng Song asked, “What do you want for your birthday?”

“There’s nothing special I want. I’ll like whatever you give me.” Teng Yingzhi kept a constant, beaming smile.

To Teng Song, however, it looked a bit like a forced smile, considering his birthday had been snatched away. Since the boy didn’t voice any complaints, Teng Song didn’t press further.

Neither spoke much during the meal. Teng Song finished first and headed back to the study in the main building.

Teng Yingzhi finished eating at a leisurely pace. Remembering the cake should be ready by now, he didn’t return to the studio. He took the cake out of the fridge and removed it from the mold—a five-inch tiramisu, just the right size for a dessert between the two of them.

After dusting it with a layer of cocoa powder, Teng Yingzhi sliced it into small pieces, holding the tray as he made his way toward the main building.

The main building was grand and imposing. Especially when the head of the family, Mr. Teng, was around, the atmosphere felt a few degrees more solemn.

Familiar with the layout, Teng Yingzhi made his way toward Teng Song’s study. Just as he approached, the door opened and He Ji walked out.

Both froze. Teng Yingzhi’s pupils dilated instantly as he stood rooted to the spot holding the cake, a flurry of thoughts racing through his mind.

He Ji, on the other hand, snapped out of it quickly. He cast a contemptuous glance over Teng Yingzhi, his eyes finally landing on the bracelet on the boy’s left wrist, a flash of ferocity crossing his face.

Gently closing the door behind him, He Ji’s eyes filled with provocation, though his voice remained low, “Eldest Brother is handling official business and doesn’t want to be disturbed. You should leave.”

“Then what did you go in there for?” Teng Yingzhi’s fingers tightened against the tray. He had completely recognized one hard truth: he and He Ji could never coexist.

He Ji let out a cold sneer, taking a step forward. “This is my home, and the man inside is my eldest brother. What I do in my own home and what I say to my eldest brother, since when do I need to report that to you?”

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