The Sickly Double Doesn't Want to Be Spoiled - Chapter 17

Chapter 17

At two o’clock in the morning, the lights of the Meng family’s main residence were lit from the third floor down to the first.

Lu Cong took Meng Yuan away with great fanfare and a grand display of momentum.

“Isn’t this a bit too flamboyant?”

Sitting in the car, Meng Yuan looked back at the clusters of active figures in the courtyard. All of them had come out to watch the excitement.

These past few days, he had come to understand that for a family like the Mengs, there was almost no privacy; any tiny matter could be dug up and served as “digital pickles” (online entertainment).

Meng Yuan had already been eating his meals for several days while watching a video collection titled A Century of the Meng Family’s Love and Hatred by a Bilibili uploader. Honestly, it was quite good.

Tonight’s events would 100% leak out. He estimated the video would be updated the day after tomorrow, giving Meng Yuan another side dish for his meals. He was actually looking forward to seeing how it would be interpreted.

“Flamboyant?” Lu Cong glanced at him, seemingly disdaining him for being surprised by common occurrences. “Your older siblings have always been like this.”

Meng Yuan pursed his lips, his large eyes darting around as he stole a glance at Lu Cong.

Then another.

And another.

“I meant you,” Meng Yuan laughed shyly.

Lu Cong: “.”

Lu Cong was stunned for a moment. This was the first time in his life anyone had called him “flamboyant.” Everyone in the circle knew he was as low-key as one could be; anyone who saw him would say, “President Lu is so modest.”

Meng Yuan sat beside him, wearing a loose “old man” tank top and shorts. These were his pajamas all white, making him look like a little white radish head. The tank top let the wind in from all sides, revealing a large patch of his chest.

Meng Yuan had worn this out quite openly. He had walked through the courtyard openly, argued with his siblings openly, and boarded the car with Lu Cong openly.

Lu Cong couldn’t help but steal several more glances, unable to wrap his head around it. He really couldn’t understand how someone could sleep not in normal pajamas, but with their chest and back exposed like this.

Fine, he was too lazy to argue with a “white radish head.”

“Mhm,” Lu Cong said. He took it as a response.

However, in Meng Yuan’s ears, that sound was like an admission. Meng Yuan hadn’t expected Lu Cong to actually admit it to so frankly acknowledge that he was flamboyant.

In typical stereotypes, people like Lu Cong were stubborn, especially fond of showing off their “low-key” nature. Only the nouveau riche were flamboyant, while he was supposed to be composed and elegant.

Meng Yuan nodded. As expected of the protagonist gong (top), he had a broad perspective.

“You’re actually not bad,” he said.

Lu Cong: “?”

Lu Cong’s shock turned into horror. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been praised before; on the contrary, people flattering him were never in short supply. But Meng Yuan’s tone was far too sincere.

He looked at Meng Yuan. The boy had eyes as watery as a low tide, very beautiful and he always looked at people very earnestly. Lu Cong felt that the gaze Meng Yuan was giving him at this moment was full of admiration and “tender affection,” burning with a heat that felt somewhat wrong.

“I get it,” he said seriously. “Turn around. Stop looking at me.”

Meng Yuan nodded obediently: “Okay.” Then he stared out the window.

Lu Cong breathed a slight sigh of relief, instinctively scratching the corner of his lip, his fingers a bit tense.

“I want to attract your attention.”

That sentence echoed in his mind. When Meng Yuan had said those words, his eyes were even wetter than they were now, the moisture almost overflowing, to the point that when Lu Cong thought back on it, he felt a patch of his own heart go damp.

This isn’t right, is it? He frowned, falling into deep thought.

He didn’t notice that Meng Yuan, beside him, was watching every blade of grass and tree flying past the window with that same watery, “tenderly affectionate” gaze.

…

By the time they reached home, Meng Yuan had already fallen asleep.

It was two or three in the morning, far past his biological clock. Fatigue had come fiercely and suddenly. Meng Yuan hadn’t held out for long, falling into a deep, dark sleep against the seat.

The car drove into the underground garage and came to a steady stop. The driver opened the door for Lu Cong, who walked forward while looking at his phone. After walking for a bit, he noticed Meng Yuan hadn’t followed.

He turned back and saw the car door wide open; the driver was attempting to lift Meng Yuan out.

Lu Cong’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?” he asked sharply.

The driver’s hand shook, nearly dropping Meng Yuan. Meeting Lu Cong’s questioning gaze, he awkwardly pulled his hands back.

“Master Meng fell asleep,” he said. “I have to carry him back on my back.”

Lu Cong’s gaze swept back and forth between the driver and Meng Yuan. The driver hung his head, feeling his scalp tingle under the heat of that stare.

“Is it always like this?” Lu Cong asked.

“Yes…” the driver responded.

Meng Yuan’s energy was very poor. Usually, when Meng Yuan and Qin Qing went for walks or to the supermarket, he would fall into a deep sleep on the way back. And once he was fast asleep, it was very difficult for him to wake up, especially in a car.

Qin Qing didn’t have a fitness habit and lacked strength. Although Meng Yuan was light and she could carry him if she had to, it wouldn’t be worth it if he tripped or got bumped. Therefore, the driver took on the heavy burden of carrying Meng Yuan up and down.

It had always been done this way; who could have guessed Lu Cong would suddenly take offense?

“Sorry, Boss,” the driver said. “We have no other choice.”

“Where do all these ‘no other choices’ come from?” Lu Cong said displeasedly. “This habit of sleeping wherever he goes doesn’t Qin Qing do anything about it?”

The driver: “…”

Easy for you to say. How do you control someone sleeping? If you can’t stand it, why don’t you do it yourself? The driver couldn’t help but grumble inwardly. He’s your wife, you’re never home, and yet you go crazy when you see someone else carrying your wife. If you’re so capable, spend more time with him!

The driver kept his head down, harboring anger he didn’t dare voice.

“You guys are spoiling him too much.” Lu Cong couldn’t calm down. “Can’t you wake him up? He’s a person with hands and feet; does he need to be carried everywhere?”

“It’s on the back,” the driver emphasized. Meeting Lu Cong’s fiery gaze, he said weakly again: “It’s very hard to wake him…”

Lu Cong let out a light laugh. Even a pig can be woken up from sleep; Meng Yuan is at least a human, how could he not be woken up?

The driver: “You can try.”

Lu Cong pointed a finger at his face from a distance, giving him a “you’re finished if I wake him up” look, then took two steps toward Meng Yuan.

“Meng Yuan,” he tapped Meng Yuan’s face. “Wake up. We’re home.”

No reaction. Lu Cong tapped twice more. Meng Yuan smacked his lips and dodged backward, still showing no sign of waking up.

The driver grew confident, his back straightening. Lu Cong’s face felt a bit slighted.

“Meng Yuan!” He shook Meng Yuan’s shoulder forcefully.

Perhaps the force was too much, but Meng Yuan suddenly knit his brows, choked, and dry-heaved.

Lu Cong jerked his hand back in shock. When he looked at the driver again, his confidence wasn’t as strong as before: “What’s going on?”

The driver had a bitter look on his face: “If you force him awake, his body feels terrible.”

Inside the car, Meng Yuan already looked uncomfortable. His lips were pale, and his breathing was slightly hurried. Lu Cong’s expression shifted repeatedly.

Seeing that he didn’t speak, the driver assumed the big boss had finally compromised, so he moved to carry Meng Yuan again, his movements very careful.

“Move aside.” A cold voice.

The driver turned around. Lu Cong rolled up his sleeves: “I said, move aside.”

The driver sensibly stepped away. Lu Cong leaned down and lifted Meng Yuan out of the car. He must have accidentally jolted him, as Meng Yuan let out a pained hum and buried his face into the crook of Lu Cong’s neck.

Lu Cong’s body went stiff.

“Oh, careful, careful,” the driver instinctively called out.

Lu Cong gave him a harsh glare, and he fell silent, trembling.

Lu Cong’s arms tightened. He felt a sort of stiffness, not knowing quite how to hold Meng Yuan, his jaw tensed. “Go press the elevator.”

The driver scurried away. Meng Yuan wasn’t sleeping peacefully; Lu Cong looked down and saw his eyebrows twitching constantly, as if he found Lu Cong’s embrace not soft enough, or as if he were dissatisfied with the garage lights being too bright and hurting his eyes.

He couldn’t tell, but the kid was actually quite picky about his sleeping environment.

Lu Cong curled his lip in annoyance.