Little Sweet O Transmigrates Into the Body of the Villainous Fake Young Master - Chapter 5

He Ji’s heart sank, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.

Teng Song’s eyes were deep, a uniform pitch-black that held a quiet, flowing undercurrent of intimidation. He looked at He Ji with a gaze that felt heavy. That restless, violent edge was still there, but upon hearing from Shu Di that He Ji had struck Yingzhi in the art studio, his expression didn’t shift into any new emotion.

Sitting opposite them, Teng Ruicheng hadn’t expected He Ji to actually hit Yingzhi. He felt a pang of sympathy for the injured Yingzhi, but he was simultaneously worried for He Ji now that the matter had reached Teng Song’s ears. The boy had only just come home and didn’t understand Teng Song; Ruicheng naturally didn’t want him to leave a bad impression on the family head.

He Xitang was clearly thinking the same. She had been silently observing Teng Song’s face, but after several minutes, she couldn’t discern his stance, which only added to her growing unease.

He Ji remained silent for a long time before finally letting out a trembling admission. “Yes.”

Teng Song remained in that same indolent posture against the sofa, elbow resting on the armrest. He tilted his head slightly, rubbing his temple with his fingertips as if fighting a headache or pure exhaustion. His eyes stayed closed as he spoke in a flat, toneless voice. “Go and apologize to Yingzhi in a moment.”

He Ji’s eyes reddened at those words. Before he could protest, He Xitang, unable to watch any longer, spoke up with indignant fervor. “Mr. Teng, I know it was wrong for Xiao Ji to lose his temper at home, and it’s only right that you punish him. But shouldn’t you at least ask him why he hit him first?”

Teng Ruicheng felt a wave of embarrassment and awkwardly tugged at his wife’s sleeve to tell her to stay quiet.

He Xitang’s heart bled for her biological son, who had spent twenty years wandering before returning to her side, only to be sent to the hospital by Yingzhi’s walnut crisps a few days ago. Her emotions hadn’t settled yet. Forget He Ji, even she wanted to slap Yingzhi twice. Naturally, she didn’t see anything wrong with He Ji venting his anger.

And now he was being forced to apologize? It was a pure humiliation!

Ignoring Ruicheng’s hints, she spoke with the fierce protection of a mother. “Is it not a bit biased to demand an apology without asking a single question? Don’t forget, Xiao Ji is your biological brother!”

Ruicheng stopped his tugging and turned away with a sigh.

He Ji looked at He Xitang, using his eyes to signal her to stop. In this situation, defending him was unnecessary and would only irritate Teng Song.

Having lived through a past life, He Ji knew well that Teng Song was not a man moved by blood ties. If he were, Teng Ruicheng wouldn’t have to act as respectfully as any other clan member in his presence; there was no “biological father” prestige here. His mother using blood relations as a shield was nothing short of a joke.

He understood that Teng Song wasn’t favoring Yingzhi. In the past life, Teng Song had barely acknowledged Yingzhi’s existence. How could a man so cold and detached play favorites? He was simply handling a conflict in his capacity as the head of the family. However, this condescending attitude made He Ji’s blood boil with a resentment he didn’t dare voice.

If he was frustrated, He Xitang, who was used to being the undisputed mistress of the estate, was even more so. Just as she drew breath to argue further, Teng Song looked her way. A sharp glint flickered in his eyes, a freezing solemnity beneath his noble exterior. “Silence.”

He Xitang’s face went pale, and her voice died instantly.

He Ji quickly shifted the focus. “Big Brother, Teng Yingzhi knew perfectly well I was allergic to walnuts, yet he deliberately brought them to me and lied, saying they were peanut crisps. He nearly killed me. I was just discharged today, and in a moment of anger, I hit him. I don’t know why he did it, tricking me into eating an allergen with a smile. Is he afraid my presence will threaten his status? If that’s the case, I can leave. I’ll go back to my foster parents and pretend these last few days never happened.”

His words were sharp, yet he maintained a composed, unyielding stance. He Ji knew Teng Song didn’t care for emotions, but he knew what kind of person the man admired.

He Xitang blurted out frantically, “You can’t leave! If anyone is leaving, it should be—”

Before she could finish, Ruicheng kicked her shin to cut her off. She realized she couldn’t say those words in front of Teng Song and snapped her mouth shut.

“Is that so?” Teng Song turned his gaze to Uncle Lu.

Uncle Lu nodded. “Master He Ji was indeed hospitalized a few days ago after eating walnut crisps sent by the Young Master.”

Teng Song closed his eyes and let out a long, irritable breath.

Uncle Lu continued, “However, while Master He Ji says he was told they were peanut crisps, the Young Master insists he never lied to Master He Ji.”

“You, speak,” Teng Song said, looking at He Ji. The irritation in his eyes was almost overflowing now.

He Ji didn’t know what exactly was bothering Teng Song. He had never seen the man show such obvious emotion before. But he also understood that in front of Teng Song, he only had one chance to tell his story.

Should he double down on the lie?

After a few seconds of calculation, He Ji gritted his teeth and remained firm. “He lied to me!”

With his parents present, he couldn’t overturn his own accusation under Teng Song’s pressure. Besides, there was no evidence; he wasn’t afraid of a confrontation with Yingzhi! No one would believe a person would risk their own life for a frame-up. He Ji had only done it because his past life taught him he wouldn’t die.

Teng Song’s expression didn’t change. He said to Uncle Lu, “Are the crisps still here?”

“They are.” Uncle Lu personally went to the kitchen and retrieved two containers from the refrigerator, placing them on the coffee table. “I kept the ones Master He Ji ate that night. This batch is what the Young Master left in the kitchen, and this one contains the leftovers from Master He Ji’s room.”

On the silver tray, the walnut crisps were small and round, their surfaces lightly dusted with peanut powder. In the batch of leftovers, the one on top had a single bite taken out of it. Each piece was no larger than a quail egg—clearly designed to be eaten in one bite. And yet, one of them had half a piece left.

Teng Song picked up a chilled crisp from He Ji’s leftovers and crushed it between his fingers. Even after being frozen for days, a rich, unmistakable aroma of walnuts wafted through the air, revealing numerous crushed walnut pieces within.

Whether it was walnut or peanut, there was no need to taste it. A look and a sniff were enough.

Shu Di immediately produced a silk handkerchief and handed it to Teng Song.

Teng Song wiped the crumbs from his hand, his gaze landing heavily on He Ji. “Kneel.”

His voice wasn’t loud, and his tone wasn’t heavy, but the icy look in his eyes was enough to show his stance.

He Ji hadn’t expected Uncle Lu to keep the evidence, nor that Teng Song would verify it personally. His face turned ashen, and his breathing grew shallow. Teng Ruicheng and He Xitang’s expressions shifted as well; the former looked at He Ji with clear condemnation, while the latter worried about how long he would be forced to stay there. After all, the boy had been frail since childhood and had only just left the hospital!

The parents didn’t dare speak. He Ji knew there was no point in seeking help. Despite his reluctance, he gritted his teeth and knelt publicly.

He kept his back straight, stubbornly insisting, “I haven’t eaten a walnut in over ten years. I never thought he would target me so specifically, so I didn’t pay attention to what they were.”

Teng Song didn’t acknowledge the explanation. He withdrew his gaze and stood up, walking toward the elevator.

He Ji stared at his brother’s cold, retreating back, whispering through gritted teeth, “I’m not wrong. I won’t apologize to him!”

Teng Song didn’t turn around. Only his deep, authoritative voice carried back. “Then kneel until you realize your mistake. Kneel until Yingzhi forgives you.”

This villa was Yingzhi’s residence. Teng Song taking the elevator meant he wasn’t leaving; he was going up to see Yingzhi.

He Ji knelt there with bloodshot eyes, his fists clenched so hard at his sides that his knuckles turned white. He was trembling. Everything had been under his control—he had the advantage. Why did everything change the moment Big Brother returned? Was he too reckless? He Ji considered it and dismissed it. If he had known Teng Song was returning today, he wouldn’t have slapped Yingzhi at all!

Where had the deviation occurred? Why did the brother who only ever appeared on New Year’s Eve return on the 15th this time?

He Ji was so lost in thought that he didn’t even hear Teng Ruicheng’s pleas for him to just go and apologize to his brother.

Upstairs, the elevator opened, and Teng Song walked with practiced ease to Yingzhi’s bedroom. The irritation in his eyes seemed to intensify, his brows knit tightly. He didn’t even bother to knock at first, but when the door wouldn’t budge, he realized it was locked from the inside.

Knock, knock, knock.

Teng Song knocked with forced patience.

A muffled, tearful voice came from inside. “I don’t need anyone’s help! Leave me alone!”

Teng Song spoke in a low rumble. “It’s me.”

The room went quiet for a moment. Then, the lock turned softly. The door opened just a crack, revealing the boy standing by the edge, his eyes rimmed with red. He poked half his head out, looking as if there were a monster waiting outside. He watched Teng Song warily, a single tear rolling down from the corner of his reddened eye.

A dense, overwhelming scent of peach-wine hit Teng Song the moment the door opened. His knit brows gradually smoothed. He held the other side of the door to prevent it from closing and looked down at the boy, speaking softly. “Don’t want me to come in?”

Aside from tears, there was a trace of helplessness in Yingzhi’s eyes. Even after seeing it was Teng Song, his expression didn’t change much. However, at Teng Song’s words, he let go of the handle and retreated to his previous spot, curling up again.

Teng Song pushed the door open and stepped into the room filled with the shimmering fragrance of peach-wine. The visible irritation in his eyes vanished instantly, drowned out by the scent.

After closing the door, Teng Song found Yingzhi huddled in a ball on the carpet, leaning against the bed with his knees pulled to his chest. His head was resting on his knees, and pressed against his cheek was a bag of melting ice.

His shoulders were still shaking. Teng Song could hear his small, muffled, and repressed sobs.

He was the picture of heartbreak and misery.

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