The Fake Young Master Got the Disabled Tycoon Pregnant. - Chapter 3

Jiang Ning turned on his phone.

The interface had thoughtfully pre-installed all the common apps he needed, and a prominent Memo icon sat on the home screen.

Without thinking much, he tapped it open.

The Memo contained Lu Zhihan’s contact information, his home address, the specific route to and from school, the bus numbers, and even the roles and photos of the staff working in the villa.

Are they treating me like a three-year-old?

Jiang Ning couldn’t quite describe the feeling.

He placed the new phone on the bedside table and lay back on the bed.

The duvet and sheets were a pale primrose yellow, smelling of sunlight and lavender.

The faint fragrance seemed to have a calming effect, and he found himself overcome by an unexpected drowsiness in this unfamiliar environment.

As fatigue washed over him, he drifted into a long, chaotic dream.

He dreamed of his elementary school days, hiding in an inconspicuous corner, watching his father praise his older brother with a beaming smile for his business acumen.

So, he had thought, if I study hard and get first place, will I get praised too?

But when he held out his test paper, the old man snatched it from him, tore it to shreds, and threw it on the floor. He warned him in a harsh tone, “Stay in your place and don’t you dare try to take what belongs to your brother.”

Only later did he realize that while he could be the Jiang family’s reckless young master, paid off with money and left to his own devices, he was never expected to achieve anything and would never become the heir to the Jiang family.

Jiang Ning didn’t even remember falling asleep. When he woke up, the sky outside was already fully bright.

Crap.

He sat up, the last remnants of sleep instantly vanishing. He scanned the room.

Am I dreaming?

He rubbed his face hard, but when he opened his eyes again, the scene remained the same.

Knock, knock.

The sound at the door startled him. He spun around, his voice laced with suspicion. “Who’s there?”

A gentle female voice with a slight accent replied, “Student Jiang, sorry to disturb you. Mr. Lu sent me to tell you breakfast is ready downstairs.”

“Oh, I see.”

As the footsteps faded away, Jiang Ning finally relaxed.

Last night must have been the best sleep he’d had in years. Even though his dreams were still fragmented, there was no hard wooden board of a bed, no midnight chorus of grinding teeth and snoring to wake him up.

He got up to wash and noticed a neatly folded set of clean school uniforms on the cabinet by the door.

It was the same uniform he always wore, but the smell and feel were completely different.

It smelled of warm sunlight mixed with the scent of detergent.

On the narrow balcony of the school dormitory, two flimsy railings were always crowded with densely hung clothes. The lack of airflow left the laundry smelling of a lingering, damp mustiness.

Jiang Ning quickly showered, dressed, and headed downstairs.

The morning news was playing on the television.

Lu Zhihan sat at the dining table.

A steaming breakfast spread and a vibrant, dew-kissed orchid graced the table.

Hearing the footsteps from downstairs, Lu Zhihan turned to face the boy in his school uniform. “Morning. Did you sleep well last night?”

Jiang Ning averted his gaze. “It was fine.”

“I didn’t wake you last night because you seemed to be sleeping so soundly.”

Lu Zhihan reached out and rotated the glass Lazy Susan, bringing the breakfast dishes closer to him. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I had them prepare a variety. Help yourself.”

The aroma of the food wafted over, and Jiang Ning’s eyes swept across the table.

There was steaming shrimp congee, golden-brown fried dough sticks, translucent shrimp dumplings, soft and chewy rice cakes, braised beef tripe, soy sauce pork ribs, and tiger-skin chicken feet.

Jiang Ning had gone the entire day yesterday without eating. At the smell of the food, his stomach betrayed him with a loud growl.

He sat down and unceremoniously served himself a bowl of congee, then lowered his head and began to guzzle it down. The sharp, twisting pain of his empty stomach vanished instantly.

The shrimp congee had been simmered long enough to become soft, thick, and comforting. A touch of ginger slivers, chopped green onions, and white pepper had been added to remove any fishiness and enhance its fresh, savory flavor.

He then tried the remaining breakfast dishes, each one as exquisite in taste as it was in appearance.

It wasn’t until Jiang Ning was about seventy or eighty percent full that he noticed Lu Zhihan watching him. Only then did he belatedly realize he might have eaten a bit too much.

But Jiang Ning hesitated for only a fraction of a second before serving himself another bowl of congee without the slightest guilt. After all, it wasn’t like he had forced himself into this house; Lu Zhihan had taken him in of his own accord. So, he couldn’t blame Jiang Ning for eating a lot.

After finishing that bowl, he was completely full, even a little stuffed.

“Oh, are you all finished?” The voice was the same one that had woken him up, belonging to a plump middle-aged woman. She spoke with a smile, “Young people really do have the best appetites. Even Mr. Lu ate more than usual today.”

Is that so?

Jiang Ning glanced at Lu Zhihan across the table.

Compared to Lu Zhihan’s slow and deliberate eating, Jiang Ning had practically swept through the meal like a whirlwind. Most of the food on the table had ended up in his stomach.

“There’s still some left in the kitchen. Xiao Jiang, how about I pack it in an insulated container for you to eat at school later?”

Jiang Ning looked at her face and remembered the photo in the memo Lu Zhihan had given him. Her surname seemed to be Wang.

He smiled and said, “Thank you, Auntie Wang, but I’m already full.”

Lu Zhihan also put down his chopsticks. “I’m heading to the company later. I’ll drop you off at school on the way.”

At the mention of school, Jiang Ning’s smile instantly vanished. He wanted to negotiate with Lu Zhihan, but before he could even open his mouth, the other man said, “Did you forget what you signed yesterday?”

Jiang Ning shut his mouth, but his entire posture radiated reluctance.

Lu Zhihan said, “Studying can expand your knowledge and broaden your horizons. Why are you so opposed to it?”

“That’s what you say to bookworms like you,” Jiang Ning retorted. “For a delinquent like me, going to school is like going to a funeral.”

Lu Zhihan: “…”

Jiang Ning got into Lu Zhihan’s car. After eating his fill, he started feeling drowsy again. He leaned against the back of the car and began to doze off, his head resting against the window.

Lu Zhihan handed him a neck pillow.

Jiang Ning opened his eyes groggily, took the pillow, and tucked it under his head. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

After a while, the soft tapping of a keyboard filled the car, sounding like a series of fluid, pleasant notes.

Jiang Ning quietly opened his eyes.

A gray laptop rested on Lu Zhihan’s lap, its screen displaying what looked like colorful stock charts. Beside it lay several folders and a project financing proposal.

He’s always so busy, Jiang Ning thought.

He closed his eyes again, disinterested, and drifted back to sleep to the rhythmic sound of Lu Zhihan’s typing.

It wasn’t until the car pulled up at the school gate that he woke up, looking utterly exhausted. He reached for the door handle to get out.

“Jiang Ning.”

Jiang Ning froze. He turned back to see Lu Zhihan holding a brand-new Chinese textbook, offering it to him. “Remember to pay attention in class.”

Jiang Ning: “…”

He stared at the departing car, then at the textbook in his hand.

He was utterly speechless.

His original textbook had been issued long ago and was still blank, but he’d torn out two pages yesterday. He hadn’t expected Lu Zhihan to get him a brand-new copy.

Sensing the curious stares of his classmates, Jiang Ning’s face flushed hot. He shoved the textbook into his school jacket and snapped at the onlookers, “What are you looking at?!”

The curious classmates, startled by the bully, quickly scattered and pretended they hadn’t seen a thing.

Satisfied, Jiang Ning headed into the school.

Just before he reached his classroom, a voice called out from behind, “Stop right there.”

Jiang Ning froze.

The homeroom teacher approached from behind, his eyes fixed on the bulge in Jiang Ning’s school jacket. He held out his hand. “What’s hidden in your clothes? Hand it over.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Hand it over.”

Reluctantly, Jiang Ning pulled the object from the hem of his jacket and placed it in the teacher’s hand.

The homeroom teacher stared at the cover of the Chinese textbook for two seconds, his gaze darting between the book and Jiang Ning’s face. “Why are you sneaking around with a textbook?”

“I’m studying.”

“Hearing that from you makes me wonder if the sun rose in the west today.”

The teacher flipped through the textbook, confirming it was an ordinary, run-of-the-mill Chinese textbook.

He handed it back. “Alright, get to class.”

“Got it,” Jiang Ning muttered. He took the book and was about to enter the classroom when the teacher called out again.

“Jiang Ning, about that self-reflection letter…”

Crap.

He had slept so soundly yesterday that he’d completely forgotten about it.

The homeroom teacher continued, “You don’t need to write it anymore.”

“Huh?”

Jiang Ning didn’t react right away, thinking the teacher was being sarcastic. “I had something come up yesterday. I’ll make it up to you this afternoon.”

“No need,” the homeroom teacher said. “We’ve looked into the matter. Zhang Shijie was the one who wrote the insults in your book first, so I’ve assigned him to write the self-criticism instead.”

Jiang Ning blinked. “What?”

“But next time something like this happens, you should talk to a teacher. Don’t just impulsively hit someone. Do you understand?”

Jiang Ning walked back to his seat, still stunned by the teacher’s words.

No punishment and no self-criticism?

Has that old fool finally decided to be a decent human being?

He looked up at the front row and caught Zhang Shijie stealing a glance.

The moment their eyes met, Zhang Shijie jerked his head away like a mouse spotting a cat, pretending nothing had happened.

Of course, Jiang Ning wasn’t about to let him off. He strolled over, hands in his pockets, and snatched the half-finished self-criticism from Zhang Shijie’s desk. “Care to explain what’s going on here?”

Zhang Shijie clenched his fists, stubbornly refusing to speak.

A smirk played on Jiang Ning’s lips.

If you ignored the “troublemaker” aura he radiated, his face was incredibly deceptive—the youthful handsomeness of a teenage boy, with a smile that looked mischievously wicked.

Many students couldn’t help stealing glances at his handsome face, even as fear kept them back.

If Jiang Ning could just change his personality, if he could only tone it down a bit, soften his edges, the title of Linjiang No. 1 Middle School’s “School Grass” would likely change hands in an instant.

But unfortunately, Jiang Ning was an absolute devil.

Jiang Ning gripped both ends of the self-criticism letter.

Riiiiiip.

The sound of tearing paper made Zhang Shijie snap, “Jiang Ning! Stop pretending you don’t know what’s going on! Is it really necessary to drag such a small matter all the way to the Principal?!”

“I dragged it to the Principal?” Jiang Ning asked. “Who did I ask to do that?”

Zhang Shijie snatched the letter back. “Who else? That cripple who came with you—”

Before he could finish, he felt Jiang Ning’s gaze turn abruptly cold. “What did you say?”

Zhang Shijie clamped his mouth shut.

A crushing sense of danger, like a knife pressed against his throat, held him paralyzed. Only after Jiang Ning left did he finally dare to breathe.

Jiang Ning sat back down at his desk and stared at the Chinese textbook.

He had no idea what Lu Zhihan had done to convince those old fossils to believe him. And why did Lu Zhihan think he wasn’t lying?

Maybe he just didn’t like Zhang Shijie and wanted an excuse to beat him up without getting in trouble?

Frustrated, Jiang Ning pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the small memo icon. He looked up the WeChat account associated with the number listed there.

The profile picture was an orchid, radiating the detached, refined air of a middle-aged man who had renounced worldly ambitions.

What a hideous profile picture, he thought, even as he sent the friend request.

Moments later, the tacky avatar appeared in his own flashy friend list, looking utterly out of place.

LZH: [The other party has accepted your friend request. You can now start chatting!]

Jiang Ning stared at the notification for a few seconds before finally sending a message.

[Thanks.]

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