The Real Young Master is Entangled by the Paranoid Fake Young Master - Chapter 48

“Hey, did you hear? The Eldest Young Master is smashing things again!”

“I did! It’s terrifying. The other day, I went to the hospital with the butler to serve the Old Madame, and I saw the Eldest Young Master being sent back in a crate. If Assistant Lin hadn’t suppressed his fear long enough to check for a pulse, I would have thought he was a corpse.”

“Ugh, don’t even talk about it. Whoever is assigned to care for him is cursed. I heard from Xiao Jia that both of his lower legs were hacked off. That ‘donor family’ vanished without a trace, this was clearly a premeditated revenge plot!”

“Tortured, forced to donate bone marrow, and then had his legs cut off. Just thinking about it gives me the creeps!”

“And get this, the day before yesterday, the Eldest Young Master suddenly said he wanted to visit the Old Madame. Everyone thought he’d come to his senses, but the moment he got into her room, he went berserk and tried to kill her!”

“What? Heavens!”

“By the way, don’t you find it strange? Wasn’t his bone marrow supposed to be incompatible? How did the ‘donation’ succeed now? Could he have been lying to the Old Madame from the very beginning?”

“Shh! Watch your mouth! What if someone hears you?”

Zhaoqing sat by the window, taking small sips of tea. With the change of seasons, Song Yuening had suggested swapping Zhaoqing’s usual milk for a calming dark tea. Zhaoqing didn’t object; it gave him an excuse to secretly give the milk to Fang Yang instead.

The dark tea was exceptional. It came from the Song family’s private plantation, harvested from tea trees owned exclusively by Young Master Yuening. Zhaoqing figured he was benefiting from his association with him. However, the tea wasn’t as effective a sedative as the milk. Previously, the milk would put him into a deep sleep until dawn; now, his sleep felt shallower.

He listened to the servants gossiping below. They spoke of nothing but the chaos of the last few days. Since Song Zhiyuan’s return, he had seemingly lost his mind, pouring all his resentment onto the Old Madame.

Though the Old Madame had recovered from her illness, her spirit was broken. She had developed a facial tic at the corner of her mouth which, combined with the scar Zhaoqing had left on her face, made her look ghastly. Even Song Shicheng had fallen ill from the shock of his eldest son becoming a cripple.

The culprit behind Zhiyuan’s kidnapping had been found: a Vice President whom Zhiyuan had previously sidelined. He had kidnapped Zhiyuan during a business trip to exact his revenge.

But was that really all there was to it?

Zhaoqing didn’t believe it for a second. There was a name in his mind the person he suspected was the true mastermind. Unfortunately, the job had been done cleanly. The Vice President had confessed, and there was no evidence pointing elsewhere.

Zhaoqing sighed, a thought drifting through his mind: Am I next? He knew Fu Lansheng was a mad dog who could strike at any moment. He had to stay vigilant.

“Zhaozhao, what are you thinking about?”

The voice whispered right in his ear. Caught off guard, Zhaoqing let his true thoughts slip. “I’m wondering if I’m next.”

Realizing his mistake, he turned back, only to fall into Song Yuening’s cool embrace. Yuening wrapped his arms around Zhaoqing’s waist like a large dog, nuzzling into his shoulder. His hair tickled the sensitive skin of Zhaoqing’s neck. He held him so tightly it felt as if he wanted to meld their bodies together.

“Zhaozhao, no one will ever hurt you. Not as long as I’m here.”

Zhaoqing’s brow twitched. It seemed Yuening was also well aware of who had truly orchestrated Zhiyuan’s downfall. On this matter, they shared a tacit understanding.

Lately, Yuening had become incredibly clingy. Their interactions had crossed into a level of intimacy that felt improper. Once, in the hallway, Yuening had insisted on holding him; when Zhaoqing resisted, Yuening pinned him against the wall, whining and pleading until a passing servant saw them and fled in shock.

“Alright, enough. Didn’t you invite me to taste tea? I’ve finished it. Now, I’m going to sleep.” Zhaoqing broke free, feigning a departure.

Yuening immediately chased after him, gripping his waist again. As they toyed around, a bit of Zhaoqing’s skin was exposed, and Yuening’s hand immediately moved toward it.

“Tsk, Song Yuening! I can’t breathe!” Zhaoqing scolded.

“Don’t try to push me away,” Yuening replied with a childish, pouting tone, though his grip remained unyielding. “Sleep with me today, please?”

Zhaoqing was annoyed by the pestering, but for the sake of his own goals, he endured it. “Fine. Stay right there. I’m going to shower. Don’t you dare come in!”

“Oh,” Yuening replied distractedly, his eyes fixed on Zhaoqing’s waist. Such a pity. I want to touch more. I wonder what it looks like further up. I need to find a way to shower with Zhaozhao sometime.

When Zhaoqing emerged from the bathroom in his pajamas, he habitually pulled a spare quilt from Yuening’s wardrobe and climbed into bed. “Don’t even think about sharing a quilt with me today.”

As soon as the lights went out, Zhaoqing heard the rustle of clothes. Before he could stop him, Yuening had squeezed into his quilt.

“Zhaozhao, please.” Yuening pleaded, though his hands were busy tracing the sensitive areas of Zhaoqing’s waist and neck. Zhaoqing was left breathless, his shirt riding up to reveal his pale skin.

“What, what are you looking at?” Zhaoqing snapped, though his anger lacked any real bite. He had no idea how intoxicating he looked in that moment.

“Shh…” Yuening whispered. “Let’s sleep. It’s warmer this way. I’m cold, Zhaozhao.”

His body was indeed ice-cold. Zhaoqing’s resistance faltered. He hated how well he knew Yuening’s constitution, the boy was always sensitive to the cold, especially when it rained. Having fought with him across two lifetimes, Zhaoqing was basically a professor in the subject of “Song Yuening’s Psychology.”

Satisfied, Yuening settled down. Soon, his breathing became steady. “Zhaozhao, go to sleep. Your gift it’s coming…”

His voice trailed off into sleep. Zhaoqing assumed the talk of a “gift” was just sleep-talking. Yuening fell into a deep slumber, leaving Zhaoqing restless as the “little pervert” breathed against his nape.

An hour later, Zhaoqing opened his eyes in the dark. After confirming Yuening was sound asleep, he slipped out of bed. He was in Yuening’s room to look for clues about his mother’s relic.

While searching the bookshelf, he accidentally knocked over a folder. He froze, checking if Yuening had woken up. Fortunately, he hadn’t. Zhaoqing went to pick it up and saw the title: “Old District Redevelopment Project Plan.”

Shocked, he took several photos of the document. So, Yuening was already involved in the acquisition of the Old District. Zhaoqing looked back at the bed, his gaze turning cold. Yuening, I can never tell which of your feelings are real and which are fake.

Finding nothing else in the wardrobe or under the bed, he checked the nightstand. He accidentally triggered a hidden latch on the lamp base, and a small safe popped out from the bottom of the stand. Unwilling to risk an alarm by guessing the password, he put everything back.

As he closed the drawer, he looked up to see Yuening sitting up, rubbing his eyes. “Zhaozhao? What are you doing?”

Zhaoqing’s heart nearly stopped. “I. I have to go to the bathroom!”

“Is that so?” Yuening’s brain wasn’t slow, even while sleepy. “But the bathroom is that way. Why are you crouching by the bed?”

“I thought you were having a nightmare. You were talking in your sleep, so I wanted to hear what you were saying,” Zhaoqing lied quickly.

Yuening’s eyes flickered. “Let’s go back to sleep, then.”

“Zhaozhao,” Yuening suddenly lunged forward and hugged his waist. “Remember I told you I had a secret? I can show you now. Come with me.”

They slipped out of the room in their pajamas. Yuening led him to the glass greenhouse and opened the door with a set of keys.

“Zhaozhao, Happy Seventeenth Birthday. Your gift is inside. It didn’t bloom in time before, but I hope it’s not too late now.”

Zhaoqing panicked. “Are you crazy? The lilies in here haven’t been de-pollenated! What if your allergy gets worse?”

“It’s fine. I took medicine beforehand,” Yuening said calmly.

Medicine? Zhaoqing noted this. He had never heard of a medicine that completely suppressed Yuening’s severe pollen allergy.

They entered the greenhouse. It was a two-story paradise of flowers. They climbed the spiral staircase to the second floor, reaching a giant laurel tree. Yuening’s eyes were sparkling with innocent expectation. He looked like a kind, slightly arrogant seventeen-year-old boy.

Yuening unveiled a plant covered in black silk. A dreamlike cluster of pale purple Epiphyllum (Queen of the Night) appeared before Zhaoqing’s eyes. The flowers were in full bloom, surrounded by a faint golden aura in the moonlight.

Zhaoqing recognized the plant. In his previous life, this specific purple Epiphyllum named “Qihua” had been the most expensive flower ever auctioned in S-City. It wasn’t supposed to appear for another few years, yet here it was. Legend said that keeping it in one’s room would bring back memories of a past life.

“Zhaozhao, do you like it?”

Zhaoqing looked at Yuening and laughed. “Thank you. I love it. It’s the best birthday gift I’ve ever received.”

But Zhaoqing held a secret “dark fate” with this flower. In his past life, he had wanted this flower. His lover at the time, Xie Chengxuan, had hinted he would buy it for him. Instead, Xie had bought Zhaoqing a pair of diamond cufflinks shaped like the flower, claiming “the best diamonds for the one I love most.”

Later, Zhaoqing discovered those cufflinks were merely a “gift-with-purchase” for a high-end jewelry set Xie had bought for Han Yizhu. On Zhaoqing’s birthday, Xie hadn’t been on a business trip; he had flown to Country A to give the actual Qihua flower to Song Yuening.

Xie had waited in the snow all night for Yuening, only for the flower to wither before Yuening would even see him. Even in death, that flower had never belonged to Zhaoqing.

And now, that unreachable luxury was right in front of him, offered by the boy who used to look down on everyone.

“Zhaozhao,” Yuening hugged him tightly. “I’ve pleased you. Can you give me a promise? Let’s stay together forever. Let’s move out, live together, and grow flowers together.”

For a second, Zhaoqing was tempted. He was like a starving man who had finally found a room full of treasure. But then, a bell tolled in the distance, and the magic vanished.

He remembered the Redevelopment Plan. He remembered the mother’s relic. Yuening was still keeping secrets.

“Staying together has conditions,” Zhaoqing said. “Like having no secrets. Yuening, are you hiding anything from me?”

Yuening hesitated for a fraction of a second before smiling sweetly. “We talked about everything on the island, Zhaozhao. I have nothing left to hide.”

Zhaoqing’s heart turned to ice. He realized he no longer liked the Epiphyllum. He now preferred the Red Camellia the “Beheaded Flower” that falls whole and never sheds its petals one by one. Resolute and never looking back.

Saturday

Yuening left early for a charity event. Half an hour later, Zhaoqing slipped out of the Song house, not through the front door, but by scaling the wall to avoid the bodyguards Yuening had assigned to him.

Meanwhile, at T-High School, Song Yuening arrived in a formal suit. He looked mature and cold, a stark contrast to his usual self. The principal was terrified, having only received two hours’ notice of the visit.

Assistant Lin Qi followed behind, feeling his position becoming increasingly marginalized since the kidnapping incident.

In a classroom, Chen Lian sat silently as his classmates gossiped about a “President-like” man arriving in a fleet of luxury cars. Chen Lian’s friend noticed his new limited-edition sneakers. “Nice shoes, Lian. Even Yu Le couldn’t get these.”

Chen Lian feigned a smile, but his right eyelid was twitching. He had a bad feeling.

His rival, Yu Le, watched him with hatred. Yu Le hated how Chen Lian acted like a wealthy heir despite never showing his parents. He suspected Chen Lian was a “bastard son” from the countryside and wanted to expose him.

On the playground, the entire school gathered. Chen Lian’s heart nearly stopped when he saw Lin Qi walk onto the stage. He remembered Lin Qi coming to his house after Zhaoqing was discovered to be a Song.

Lin Qi had offered Chen Lian a choice: a check and a scholarship to a top school in exchange for never appearing before the Song family again. Chen Lian had taken the money and the house in the city, packaging himself as a wealthy student to escape his “trashy” background of a gambler father and a dancer mother.

He hated Zhaoqing for being the “Real Young Master,” but he wasn’t above using Zhaoqing’s money to fuel his ego.

But now, looking at the stage, Chen Lian felt a wave of terror. If Lin Qi was here, then the person truly in charge couldn’t be far behind.

And then, the person he feared most appeared before his eyes…