The Real Young Master is Entangled by the Paranoid Fake Young Master - Chapter 50

“Zhaozhao, are you there?”

The moment Zhaoqing stepped back into the Song residence, Song Yuening’s knock followed like clockwork. Zhaoqing hurriedly shoved his backpack into the wardrobe and called out, “Wait a second, I’m changing!”

The person outside paused, then knocked even more persistently.

“Zhaozhao, it’s fine! You can open the door now. It’s not like changing in front of me is something to be ashamed of.”

“Zhaozhao, Zhaozhao, open up.”

“At most, you change and I won’t peek.”

“Oh, Zhaozhao, I’m begging you.”

Listening to the whining outside, Zhaoqing cursed under his breath while rushing to pull on his pajamas. He mussed up his desk and did a quick sweep of the room to ensure nothing looked suspicious before finally opening the door.

“Stop making so much noise, Song Yuening!” Zhaoqing snapped. He had too much information to process today and was nursing a growing headache, one that only throbbed harder upon seeing Yuening.

However, the moment the door swung open, he was momentarily stunned.

“Zhaozhao, did I disturb your rest?” Yuening seemed startled by the coldness in Zhaoqing’s voice, but he quickly smoothed over his expression.

“You, what is this?” Zhaoqing asked, staring at the pure gold tulip in Yuening’s hand. Yuening’s face looked hallowed and ethereal under the golden glow of the flower.

“Zhaozhao, this is for your bedside, to help you sleep.”

Zhaoqing looked at the beautiful, vibrant flower, plucked at the height of its bloom. “You plucked such a perfect flower just to put by my pillow? I recall this variety being quite rare.”

Being a lover of plants, Zhaoqing naturally kept track of precious species. This tulip was notoriously difficult to cultivate, and S-City’s climate was far from ideal for it. Even out of hundreds of expensive bulbs, one might not yield a single specimen of this pure gold hue. While perhaps not as pricey as the Qihua Epiphyllum, it was worth enough to buy a comfortable three-bedroom apartment in a decent part of the city.

Zhaoqing would have been content just seeing it in a book or on television. To see Yuening snap it off so casually left him at a loss for words.

Taking advantage of Zhaoqing’s daze, Yuening let himself into the room.

“Indeed, Zhaozhao,” Yuening said without a shred of guilt. “All the flowers in that greenhouse were planted for you. Besides, a flower is just a flower; no matter how beautiful or expensive, it can’t compare to a person. The weather has been good, and the tulips the gardeners worked so hard on have finally bloomed. I knew you liked them, so I brought one over.”

He scanned the room before placing the tulip on the nightstand next to Zhaoqing’s pillow.

“Zhaozhao, will you grace me with your company and let me sleep here tonight?” Seeing Zhaoqing’s silence, Yuening pushed his luck, his tone turning playful.

“You like to cling to me when you sleep. It makes me uncomfortable. We shouldn’t sleep together anymore,” Zhaoqing stated flatly.

“Zhaozhao, what’s wrong? Why are you so unhappy today?” Yuening finally realized something was amiss. Tonight, Zhaoqing was terrifyingly distant.

Zhaoqing looked at that familiar, “sincere” face and felt only irony. Scheming with Fu Lansheng behind his back while offering treasures to his face, Yuening was a master deceiver. If he decided to lie to someone, they would likely never know the truth until the day they died.

Suddenly, everything felt exhausting. Zhaoqing simply excused himself, saying he was tired from studying and wanted to sleep early.

Yuening instinctively knew something was wrong. Since their return from the deserted island, Zhaoqing had never been this cold. In just one day, their relationship seemed to have regressed to how it was before.

While Yuening wondered if he should stage a “heroic rescue” or trigger a “suspension bridge effect” to make Zhaoqing rely on him again, a knock sounded at the door.

“Who is it?” Zhaoqing asked immediately. Being in the room with Yuening felt suffocating; he hoped anyone literally anyone would appear to save him from this tension.

“It’s me, Young Master Zhaoqing,” Xiao Yue’s voice came from the hallway.

“Ah, Xiao Yue!” Zhaoqing’s eyes lit up. He rushed to the door and swung it open. “Xiao Yue, is something the matter?” He wanted to invite her in, if only so he wouldn’t have to be alone with Yuening.

However, Xiao Yue’s gaze went straight to Yuening, who was standing behind Zhaoqing. Her expression flickered with a momentary, terrified tension.

“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” Xiao Yue said, waving her hands frantically.

Yuening’s face darkened, his voice low and icy. “It’s past ten o’clock. Didn’t the butler teach you not to disturb the masters’ rest at night without a valid reason?”

The reprimand was severe. Xiao Yue’s face turned deathly pale, as if she had heard a dire threat. Zhaoqing, assuming she was simply too timid to handle Yuening’s harshness, tried to smooth things over.

“Song Yuening, Xiao Yue isn’t just a servant; she’s, my friend. Speak to her with some respect.”

“Friend?” Yuening repeated the word, the gloom in his eyes deepening.

Xiao Yue waved her hands again, her tone bordering on pleading. “No, no, Young Master, you flatter me. I am not worthy of being your friend.”

Zhaoqing saw how much she feared Yuening. Not wanting the “madman” to make things harder for her, he asked gently, “Xiao Yue, what did you come for?”

Xiao Yue stole a fearful glance at Yuening before plucking up the courage to speak. “Young Master, this is an invitation. The Old Madame is ill, the Eldest Young Master is incapacitated, and the Master is not home tonight. I thought to bring it to Young Master Yuening first, but he wasn’t in his room, so I came to you.”

She held out a deep crimson invitation. Zhaoqing leaned in and saw the host’s name: Jiang Jinhua, head of the Jiang family.

“What is it, Zhaozhao?” Yuening stepped forward and took the card. After reading it, he said, “It’s a welcome banquet for the Jiang family’s newly adopted son.”

The Jiang family’s adopted son that would be Han Yizhu. No, in this life, he would be Jiang Yizhu.

Zhaoqing remembered this banquet from his previous life. It was ironic: he, the biological son of the Song family, had returned as an “adopted” ward without so much as a dinner party. Yet Jiang Yizhu, a mere adoptee, was treated with such prestige that both lives were marked by these grand welcoming ceremonies.

In his past life, Jiang Yizhu had framed Zhaoqing at this very banquet. He had pretended to trip and fall toward Zhaoqing, but through his tearful performance, it appeared as though Zhaoqing had clumsily spilled juice all over him. Because Jiang Yizhu was the star of the night, Zhaoqing became the villain. People whispered about his “low-class” behavior, and even Xie Chengxuan had turned a cold shoulder to him. Upon returning home, the Old Madame had slapped him…

As the memories resurfaced, Zhaoqing felt a wave of nausea.

Past life, present life.

Jiang Yizhu, Song Yuening, Xie Chengxuan.

Zhaoqing sighed inwardly. It seemed what was meant to come would always arrive. Hiding was no longer an option.

Seeing Zhaoqing sway slightly, Yuening immediately supported him, asking softly if he wanted to attend. Zhaoqing gave a cold laugh. “We have to meet eventually. Even if it’s not now, we will see this ‘Young Master Jiang’ in the future.”

Seeing that Zhaoqing had decided to go, Yuening fell silent, his eyes downcast in thought. After a moment, he squeezed Zhaoqing’s shoulder as if to comfort him.

He leaned in and whispered, “It’s fine if you want to go, Zhaozhao. I’ll be by your side the whole time. Don’t feel pressured. Let’s just treat it as… going to watch a good show.”

I will prepare a grand show for you.

In the flickering light, Zhaoqing thought he saw Yuening’s expression turn predatory for a split second, but when he looked closer, the boy was wearing that same gentle, sun-drenched smile.

The weekend arrived quickly. Zhaoqing looked at himself in the mirror. His face was identical to the one that had attended the banquet in his previous life, but the cowardice and self-doubt in his eyes were gone. He clenched his fists, mentally preparing himself.

When he stepped out of his room, Yuening was already waiting downstairs. As Zhaoqing descended the spiral staircase, Yuening’s eyes grew brighter with every step. By the time Zhaoqing reached him, Yuening’s gaze was a sea of intense, sweet affection.

“Zhaozhao, you look truly beautiful today.” Yuening lowered his lashes, his ears turning a bright red, looking for all the world like a shy, flustered teenager.

Zhaoqing looked at the boy’s unnaturally perfect features and wondered how he could say such things with a straight face. When they walked together, people would always look at Yuening first.

But Yuening clearly disagreed. He took Zhaoqing’s hand, lacing their fingers together so tightly their knuckles pressed against each other. His voice was laced with a strange, anxious possessiveness. “You’re so beautiful, Zhaozhao. I have to keep a close eye on you. I’m afraid that if I turn my head for even a second, someone will steal you away.”

Just then, Song Shicheng emerged from his room. His eyes landed on their joined hands, and his anger flared again. Yuening, however, pulled Zhaoqing out the front door before Shicheng could start a scene.

Shicheng huffed, watching Zhaoqing’s retreating back with a frown. Young Master Jiang and his family will be at the banquet today. The day we send Lili to them is getting closer. I won’t cover for this rebellious son; if the Jiangs ask about Lili, I’ll tell them exactly what Song Zhaoqing has done.

He wanted to see how this defiant boy would handle the “thunderous wrath” of the Jiang family.