The Delicate and Frail One Everyone Hates - Chapter 6

Right after school that afternoon, Song asked the driver to take him to a hair salon. He wanted to dye his hair.

Initially, he wanted Bei-huai Lu to come along.

“Young Master, I have to go to my part-time job. I’m afraid I can’t go with you.”

Outside the black sedan, Song sat in the back seat and looked sideways at Lu, who was holding the car door and clearly didn’t intend to get in. Hearing about the part-time job, Song frowned:

“What kind of job are you doing?”

Lu was a bit surprised that Song was even asking. Before, Song would ignore him, get in the car after school, and leave immediately. Sometimes he wouldn’t even ask Lu if he wanted a ride before telling the driver to go.

“I want to earn some money.”

Song was curious about the job, but he was even more curious about the reason behind it. His sister hadn’t told him every detail of the novel’s plot.

“What do you need money for? Do you want to leave me?”

As soon as he said it, he fell silent. Seriously, why did that sound so strange?

“My father is sick. I want to earn some money for his medical bills so he doesn’t have to struggle so much.” Lu looked at Song. Seeing the boy staring at him with a look that seemed like genuine worry, his previous suspicions were further confirmed. “I won’t leave you, Young Master.”

This idiot has probably fallen for me.

Because I saved his life.

Seeing Lu suddenly give him a gentle smile after saying those words, Song’s ears turned red. In a bit of a panic, he reached out to close the car door, but Lu suddenly leaned down close to him.

Song’s heart skipped a beat.

…Too close. He didn’t like people getting so close to him.

What is he doing?!

With a ‘click,’ the seatbelt was fastened.

Only then did Lu pull back. Holding the car door, he stood up. “You forgot your seatbelt. I helped you with it. I’m leaving now.”

If Song really liked him, would his plan to take everything away from Song be far behind?

Song wanted to say something else, but Lu had already closed the door and turned to walk away.

“…” Seriously, I haven’t even asked how much he makes a month.

By the way, Lu’s father was sick? That meant “Song’s” biological father was sick. That was terrible. He needed to step in and find out what was going on as soon as possible.

He had too little information right now to move the plot forward quickly. He had to think of a way to let Lu know his true identity sooner.

As night fell, the lights of the luxurious Song manor turned on.

“Oh, Young Master! You dyed your hair back to black. You look so well-behaved like this.”

As soon as Song walked into the villa, the housekeeper came over and showered him with praise. Before he could even speak, his ears turned red. Feeling embarrassed, he rubbed his ear:

“…I just thought I should dye it back. I want to focus on studying.”

Gosh, why be so direct? It’s embarrassing.

The housekeeper noticed that her little master’s temper had improved significantly lately. In the past, he wouldn’t even chat; seeing him was like encountering a bomb that would explode at the slightest touch.

She looked at Song’s flushed face after the compliment. He looked so sweet. She couldn’t help but think that if the Master and Madam came home, they would be thrilled. It seemed that surfing accident was a blessing in disguise; it wasn’t too late for him to grow up.

“You were at the salon for so long. Are you hungry? Should I fix you something to eat?”

Song was actually quite hungry since doing his hair had taken a while. He said shyly, “Then I’ll have to trouble you, Auntie.”

Hearing the Young Master speak in such a tone, the housekeeper felt as if he were a different person. She was constantly amazed. These past few days, he had been so polite—it was like a total transformation. He was well-behaved and cultured.

“It’s no trouble. Go upstairs and take a shower first, Young Master. I’ll bring it up to you in a bit.”

“Okay. Thank you, Auntie. Sorry for the hard work.” Song nodded slightly, his eyes curving into a smile.

It was 11:00 PM.

Lu carried his backpack, wearing only a short-sleeved black T-shirt. He had a bandage on the corner of his mouth, and his damp hair hung over his forehead. His strong arms were tensed with muscle—the mark of disciplined training—and the knuckles of his right hand were scraped and raw. He gave off an aura of suppressed violence.

He walked into the villa with a blank expression and saw the housekeeper carrying a tray toward the elevator. He masked his emotions.

“Oh, Bei-huai, you’re back?” Seeing Lu’s state, the housekeeper frowned with concern. “How did you get hurt again? Are you hungry? I just made some noodles for the Young Master. There’s extra—do you want some?”

“I’ll take it up to him.” Lu reached out and took the tray from her.

Seeing the injuries on Lu’s arms and knuckles, she looked worried. “You kid, what kind of part-time job are you doing? You come back covered in wounds every time. You aren’t… getting into trouble with gangs, are you?”

Lu gave a tired, lazy smile, sounding indifferent about his own well-being. “I need the money. My dad’s life is more important.”

With that, he carried the tray toward the elevator.

The housekeeper sighed as she watched him go. “…Old Lu, you really raised a hardworking son. You better pull through.”

With a ‘ding,’ the elevator doors opened.

Lu walked toward Song’s bedroom.

This person was born to enjoy a life of luxury. His bedroom took up the entire third floor. Lu felt he was born for a life of service, only connected to Song because they were born on the same day. Song’s parents had chosen him to be Song’s companion when they were young.

From age eight until now, he had followed Song for ten years.

He spent every birthday in a corner of Song’s party. Even his eighteenth birthday was the same. As long as he didn’t get what he wanted, he would always be in Song’s shadow.

He knew he wouldn’t be satisfied with this.

He wouldn’t be satisfied living in a room smaller than Song’s bathroom.

He stopped in front of the large double doors of the bedroom and knocked. When his knuckles hit the door, they accidentally brushed against his fresh injuries. He only frowned slightly.

“Come in.”

Only after hearing Song’s voice did he open the door.

Song’s bedroom suite was massive. Upon entering, there was a large living room with floor-to-ceiling windows, offering the best view of the estate.

The boy, who would usually be playing games in the study, was sitting cross-legged on the living room rug, buried in work.

However, Lu’s gaze fell on the hair that had been dyed back to its natural color.

“Oh? You’re back.” Song saw Lu out of the corner of his eye and looked up.

The light from the crystal chandelier fell on the boy sitting on the rug, his smile bright.

His natural hair color was a light brownish-black. The strands had clearly been conditioned and looked soft and smooth. His eyes were full of warmth, and wearing white loungewear, he looked incredibly clean and beautiful.

There wasn’t a trace of his former arrogant, messy, or thuggish appearance. It was a complete transformation.

Even his temperament was different.

Like the difference between mud and jade.

It seems he’s really trying hard to attract my attention.

As soon as Song looked up, he saw the bandage on Lu’s lip and the bruises on his arms. He frowned. “What did you do? Did you get into a fight?”

Lu placed the tray on the coffee table. “Your late-night snack, Young Master.”

Just then, a slightly cool hand touched the corner of his lip. Lu froze just as he was about to straighten up.

“Bei-huai Lu, what kind of part-time job are you doing?” Seeing the faint bruises on the edge of Lu’s mouth and his arms, Song made a bold guess. “You aren’t getting paid to be a human punching bag, are you?”

Lu tried to speak, but he accidentally pulled the wound on his lip and hissed in pain.

Song panicked instantly. He raised his hand to fan the wound, then realized how silly he looked. He tried to pull his hand back awkwardly, but as he did, his wrist was suddenly grabbed.

“…”

Ah, he didn’t like being touched like this. He was so nervous.

The sight of the boy’s pale face turning pink and his ears flushing red was reflected in Lu’s eyes, confirming his theory.

Why the sudden change in attitude? Why the interest in studying together? Why the sudden care for his appearance?

“Young Master, are you worried about me?”

Song wanted to pull his hand back, but it was held firmly.

He hesitated, his eyelashes trembling. After a moment, he looked up at Lu. “…Well, obviously? Can’t I be worried?”

Lu’s heart sank.

As expected, this spoiled brat has really fallen for me.

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