Little Sweet O Transmigrates Into the Body of the Villainous Fake Young Master - Chapter 8

While Teng Yingzhi was still lost in thought, He Ji’s weak yet gloomy voice drifted up from below. “I misunderstood you regarding the walnut crisps. I just returned home; there’s no way you could have known I am allergic to walnuts… I overthought it. I assumed you were deliberately targeting me… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated my own assumptions as established facts, and I certainly shouldn’t have laid a hand on you. This matter is entirely my fault from beginning to end…”

He Ji was trembling slightly all over, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, clearly consumed by absolute fury.

He suddenly looked up, and Yingzhi saw every negative emotion this world had to offer burning in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, please forgive me.” He Ji forced those final words out through gritted teeth.

Yingzhi sighed internally. *Well, this feud is locked in stone now.*

He Ji’s apology wasn’t sincere; it was entirely forced. Yingzhi’s response was much the same; both had their own hidden agendas. “Alright, I forgive you. I hope from now on we can coexist peacefully.”

“Good, good, good. As long as you’ve reconciled, it’s fine. It was all a misunderstanding.” Teng Ruicheng quickly stepped forward like a mediator, patting Yingzhi on the shoulder before bending down to help He Ji up.

He Ji had been kneeling for too long. Although the winter hall was lined with thick cashmere carpet, kneeling for an hour was still incredibly punishing. Borrowing Ruicheng’s strength, He Ji stood up with great difficulty. His knees were stiff and agonizingly painful, and his brow remained tightly knit to hide his discomfort. If Ruicheng hadn’t been supporting him, he likely wouldn’t have been able to stand on his own at all.

He Xitang also hurried over to support He Ji from the other side, her heart aching for him. After shooting a venomous glare at Yingzhi, she reined in her expression slightly and spoke to Teng Song. “Mr. Teng, Xiao Ji is truly feeling unwell. We’ll head out first…”

Before she could finish, Teng Song, holding the black tea Shu Di had brought him in one hand, casually waved his other hand forward. His features remained cool and detached, and he still didn’t spare them a single glance.

He Xitang immediately escorted He Ji away.

Teng Ruicheng started to follow them, but after taking two steps, he turned back and stood before Yingzhi. His eyes held a trace of pity as he looked at the injury on the boy’s face. “Does it hurt? Sigh, look at what I’m saying. It’s already bruised, so of course it hurts, right?”

Yingzhi blinked, a sudden urge to cry hitting him, but he fought desperately to suppress it. He knew exactly what his father wanted to hear, so he forced a tight smile. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s fine, Second Brother already apologized.”

Sure enough, upon hearing that “it’s fine,” the tension completely drained from Ruicheng’s posture. He genuinely did not want the two children to clash. If the matter could be swept under the rug and both sides could stop harboring resentment, it would be best for the harmony of the family.

Yet he completely overlooked the oppression Yingzhi had suffered beneath this harmonious facade.

Ruicheng offered a quick goodbye to Teng Song and left. He Ji had just been discharged from the hospital and then forced to kneel for an hour; the couple naturally had to prioritize him right now.

Still, watching his father’s retreating back, Yingzhi couldn’t help but feel a pang of bitter disappointment. *He didn’t even ask if I had applied any medicine…*

Teng Song let out a slow, mocking snort.

Giving a slap and then offering a sweet date, his father’s method of smoothing over conflicts had remained exactly the same for decades, completely unchanged. Back when the old patriarch was alive, he had rebuked Ruicheng numerous times and even taken him along to teach him hand-by-hand, yet Ruicheng hadn’t inherited a single shred of the old man’s killer instinct. His mind was entirely clogged, making him as dense as a wooden mallet through and through.

Standing nearby, Shu Di subconsciously looked at him upon hearing that cold laugh. Then, she realized something astonishing: the suffocating, terrifying rage that had been coiled tightly within Mr. Teng had miraculously vanished within this single hour, replaced once more by his usual calm indifference.

Earlier, he had been so restless and irritable that he couldn’t even drive, scaring her so badly that she hadn’t even had time to notify a driver before taking the wheel herself to bring him back.

Shu Di tactfully refrained from asking any questions.

“Brother, I’m going upstairs to sleep now.” Yingzhi was in a terrible mood. The massive emotional swings of the day had left him with a pounding headache.

Teng Song nodded slightly. “Go on, get some rest.” He then turned his head to Shu Di. “Thank you for your hard work today. You can head home.”

“Thank you, Mr. Teng.”

Yingzhi returned to his room and threw himself flat on the bed like a starfish. His heart was weighed down by anxiety for the future and disappointment in his parents, yet he also felt a spark of joy because his brother had unconditionally protected him.

At least for now, I’m not completely isolated and helpless.

However, thinking about his upcoming birthday, Yingzhi grew dispirited again, his hand moving to cover the gland hidden at the nape of his neck. He Ji and his first heat were like two swords hanging directly over his head.

He Ji was manageable—at least he knew the plot and understood exactly when and where the protagonist would strike, giving him time to mentally prepare.

But he had absolutely no control over the heat. He had no idea when it would strike. He needed to experience it at least once to know what to expect, so that in the future, he could hide away in an isolated place before the date arrived.

But before that first time arrived, he could only live in constant suspense. What if it happened after the New Year when school resumed, and he suddenly went into heat right in the middle of a class…

Yingzhi let out a groan and began rolling back and forth on the bed in a fit of anxiety. Finally, with a loud *thud*, he rolled right off the mattress and onto the floor. Only then did he quiet down, pulling himself back onto the bed looking entirely disheveled.

As he lay there with his chaotic thoughts, he gradually drifted off to sleep.

—

When he woke up, the room was shrouded in darkness. Someone had turned off the lights. Yingzhi dazedly pulled at the blanket covering him, wondering who had come in to tuck him in and extinguish the lights.

He reached out blindly, finally groping his phone. When he lit up the screen, his eyes half-squinted against the harsh glare, his dense lashes overlapping.

It was 11:00 PM. Having skipped dinner, Yingzhi had been woken up entirely by hunger. After some thought, he opened WeChat, found the account with the tiramisu profile picture, and sent a message.

Garlic King-8: [Brother, are you asleep?]

Blank Nickname: [Not yet.]

Garlic King-8: [Brother, do you want some late-night snacks?

Blank Nickname: [No.]

Garlic King-8: [But I’m a bit hungry.]

Blank Nickname: [Alright.]

Yingzhi immediately flipped out of bed. Detecting the movement, the night light in the wall alcove automatically turned on, casting a soft, warm glow that illuminated his delicate, smiling face.

Garlic King-8:[Brother, do you want congee or noodles?]

Blank Nickname: [Congee.]

Garlic King-8: [But I want River Snail Rice Noodles.]

Teng Song, who had been replying instantly until now, remained silent for over ten seconds before finally texting back.

Blank Nickname: [Noodles then.]

Yingzhi’s smile deepened like a happy child. [Great, then I’ll go cook the noodles. I’ll come find you when they’re ready. Which guest room are you in?]

Blank Nickname: [Right next door to you.]

Yingzhi immediately looked up at the wall in front of him. Knowing his brother was a mere wall away brought a profound sense of security flooding over him.

The servants in the villa had already gone to sleep, so Yingzhi strolled down to the kitchen. He lit the stove, brought water to a boil, opened two packets of River Snail Rice Noodles, and tossed the noodles into the pot. For one of the portions, he only added half the noodles; it was too much for him to finish alone.

Yingzhi had never eaten this kind of instant food in his past life. For one thing, instant snail noodles were never allowed to appear in his household, and his family didn’t permit him to eat them anyway. He remembered a time back then when he had tried to cook some noodles himself, only for his eldest brother to catch him and scold him for bringing junk food into the house, throwing the noodles and the pot away together.

Since transmigrating here, many of those rigid rules had vanished. His father was very easygoing and would often cook instant ramen with him late at night, and his mother’s strictness was limited purely to his academics. Before He Ji’s arrival, Yingzhi had been entirely liberated.

Perhaps because he had caught some sleep, Yingzhi’s mood was significantly better. He padded around the kitchen in his slippers, washing some vegetables, slicing some braised beef, and finally frying two eggs. Once everything was cooked, he left out the sour bamboo shoot packet; the odor was too strong, and he didn’t particularly like it—plus, he was afraid his brother might kick him out.

Placing the two bowls of noodles onto a tray, Yingzhi took the elevator up, walked over to the guest room next to his bedroom, and gave the door a light kick.

Teng Song’s muffled voice carried from inside. “Come in.”

Holding the late-night snack, Yingzhi helplessly kicked the door again. “I can’t open the door right now.”

A moment later, there was movement inside. The lock turned, and Teng Song opened the door with damp hair. He had clearly just taken a shower and hadn’t even dried his hair yet; it was completely swept back, revealing a handsome face that would turn heads whether in a comic book or reality. Water droplets from his hair ran down his neck. He wore a loose silk bathrobe, and because he had rushed out mid-way to open the door for Yingzhi, the belt wasn’t tied, exposing a firm, evenly muscled chest radiating faint steam.

He wasn’t even wearing shoes, his bare, clean feet stepping directly onto the carpet below his black pajama pants.

He was tall and imposing, completely blocking the light from the room behind him, casting a shadow that entirely enveloped Yingzhi. Standing so close, Yingzhi had to look up to meet his eyes, offering a pleasing smile as he nudged the tray toward him.

Teng Song turned around without a word and went straight back into the bathroom.

Yingzhi noticed that his right hand was clad in a very thin, transparent glove. He remembered his brother didn’t have any wounds on his hand; why would he specifically wear a glove while showering?

Before he could ask, Teng Song had already vanished from sight. Yingzhi ignored it, walking in and setting the tray down on the desk. Fortunately, this was a guest room that was rarely occupied, so the desk was completely clean and clear.

He slipped back to his own room to drag over an extra chair and set it by the table. Just as he finished arranging things, Teng Song emerged, his hair now blown dry, wearing slippers and his bathrobe belt firmly tied. Yingzhi patted the empty seat beside him, inviting him over for the late-night snack.

Regarding eating in a bedroom, Teng Song found it distasteful, but it wasn’t a matter of absolute principle, so he said nothing and took a seat right next to Yingzhi.

Yingzhi finally blurted out his question. “Brother, why are you wearing a glove?”

“Afraid of getting it wet,” Teng Song answered honestly. As soon as he finished speaking, he pulled the glove off and tossed it aside.

“Huh? Did you get hurt just now?” Yingzhi pulled his hand over to inspect it.

“No.” Teng Song’s lips curled into a slight smile. He looked down, watching Yingzhi’s two soft, white hands holding his palm and kneading it back and forth. He said with complete composure, “It’s just stained with something I temporarily don’t want to wash away.”

Yingzhi stared at it for a long time but couldn’t see anything on his hand at all. There was absolutely nothing there. But since his brother’s attitude was completely unshielded and completely candid, Yingzhi didn’t press the matter further.

“Let’s eat, let’s eat!”

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