What Bad Intentions Could a Spoiled Little Brat Possibly have? - Chapter 10

“The One I Like Most Is You”

Cheng Huai was sleeping deeply. The scenes in his dream gradually became clear; he dreamed he was sitting on Fu Zheng’s lap, his chin gripped by Fu Zheng as they kissed deeply.

The Fu Zheng in the dream was somewhat different from how he usually appeared. His eyes weren’t as dark and cold as usual, but instead burned with a ball of fire scalding, blazing, surging with a turbulent tenderness amidst their entanglement.

When their lips parted, a silver thread of saliva lingered between them. Fu Zheng placed him on the table, his well-defined fingers stroking Cheng Huai’s face before sliding down along his neck.

Cheng Huai shook all over, his waist so sore he couldn’t lift it. He could only slump his back, burying himself in the crook of Fu Zheng’s neck while letting out broken moans.

Fu Zheng raised his shimmering fingers, licking them nonchalantly. His gaze dropped, looking at Cheng Huai with a half-smile: “Do you know how slutty you are?”

Then he leaned over, kissing Cheng Huai’s earlobe, his cheek, and finally, a fishy, greasy taste spread between their lips and teeth.

Cheng Huai’s toes tensed to their limit. His hands climbed onto Fu Zheng’s broad, sturdy shoulders, and he lost his voice as he bit his lip.

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains into the bedroom.

Cheng Huai frowned and opened his eyes. He reached for the phone on the bedside table; it was only seven-fifteen.

He waited a few minutes for his consciousness to return, realizing he was lying in the bed of Fu Zheng’s bedroom.

The dream from last night still echoed in his mind. Cheng Huai’s heart tightened; he reached out to feel the bedsheet beside him. His fingers touched a lingering coldness.

Fu Zheng hadn’t come back last night.

He breathed a sigh of relief. But just as he lifted the quilt, he realized something was wrong.

Sure enough, his clothes were sticking to his body, damp.

Cheng Huai pulled down the shirt he was wearing and leaned over to sniff the quilt. There was no strange smell, which allowed him to relax.

Fortunately, Fu Zheng’s shirt was long enough that he hadn’t soiled the sheets.

However, the hem of Fu Zheng’s shirt had been crumpled and ravaged by him, and it was a bit damp. Cheng Huai showed a look of guilt, feeling somewhat restless.

After a moment of thought, Cheng Huai decided not to change his clothes. He only brought in his dried pants and hurriedly tucked the shirt hem into them.

The feeling of wet clothes sticking to his skin was truly uncomfortable. Enduring the dampness, Cheng Huai slowly brushed his teeth and washed his face.

Once everything was tidied up, Cheng Huai pushed open the bedroom door, thinking of sending Fu Zheng a message. Instead, he caught the scent of fragrance wafting up from downstairs.

He rushed down the stairs quickly, but stopped halfway. His gaze was drawn to the man in the kitchen.

Fu Zheng was standing in front of the counter, holding a phone in one hand while frying eggs in a pan with the other.

He was wearing a pure black silk bathrobe, a thin material that clung to his well-defined, muscular physique.

The robe was worn somewhat loosely; the belt at his waist was tied messily, and the collar wasn’t intentionally pulled tight, faintly revealing large patches of taut muscle.

It looked as though he had just showered; his hair was half-dry and slightly tousled, and a hint of stubble had emerged on his jawline.

Cheng Huai followed the lines of Fu Zheng’s perfect, bursting musculature downward. He unconsciously swallowed, feeling his throat grow increasingly dry and parched.

Fu Zheng hung up the phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a figure on the stairs. He looked over, his sharp, cold gaze falling on Cheng Huai.

Fu Zheng’s eyelids flickered slightly, and he looked away nonchalantly: “Come wash your hands and eat.”

Cheng Huai felt his breath turn hot from the allure, but was pulled back to reality by the damp sensation below. Feeling uncomfortable, he moved over slowly and asked, “Brother, when did you get back?”

“Around two.”

“Then you…” Cheng Huai wanted to ask where Fu Zheng had slept last night since he had occupied Fu Zheng’s bed. At that thought, his face began to burn.

Fu Zheng glanced at him: “I slept in the guest room.”

“Oh.” Cheng Huai sat down, feeling the coldness at his buttocks. He absent-mindedly picked up the chopsticks in front of him. He didn’t pester Fu Zheng to feed him, but picked up a piece of egg and took a bite himself.

Fu Zheng’s raised hand paused in mid-air. The words stuck in his throat were swallowed back down. Noticing that Cheng Huai was still wearing the same black shirt from last night, he could only try his best to suppress the irritability in his heart.

Having done something guilty, Cheng Huai was extremely bashful and ate his breakfast in silence.

After the meal, Fu Zheng drove him back to school. Uncharacteristically, he remained silent for the entire trip.

When they reached the dormitory building, Fu Zheng slowly turned the steering wheel, maneuvering the car to stop under a Goldenrain tree. He stepped on the brake and looked at the distracted youth in the passenger seat who hadn’t even noticed the car had stopped. He couldn’t help but remind him: “We’re here.”

“Oh, okay.” Cheng Huai seemed startled, finally snapping out of it. He nodded and pushed open the car door to get out.

With his head down, Cheng Huai circled around the front of the car. Hearing the distant sounds of military training slogans, he jogged into the dormitory, unaware of the gaze that remained fixed on him from inside the car.

The dormitory building was very quiet.

Cheng Huai closed the door, quickly changed his clothes, and threw the discarded ones into his backpack, intending to wash them back at Fu Zheng’s house. He then took a few sets of clothes he usually wore.

There were two unopened packages on the desk. He found a pair of scissors, carefully opened them, took a bag to pack the plush toy, and then packed the other delicate instruments into his backpack.

Once everything was organized, he opened the drawer, intending to take the two bottles of medicine he used regularly.

However, in the drawer where the two bottles usually sat, only one remained. The other bottle had vanished into thin air.

The missing bottle was exactly the medicine used to control his estrus.

Panic surged like a tide. Cheng Huai’s face turned instantly pale, a chill ran down his spine, and his lips trembled slightly. His eyes darted around the dormitory, trying to find a point of focus.

His breathing became more and more rapid, his fingers digging into his palms unconsciously as if trying to gouge out the flesh, until he felt a sharp pain the unhealed cigarette scar was once again injured.

Where was the medicine?

Where did the medicine go?

If someone found out…

Cheng Huai’s throat was dry; even swallowing was difficult. He didn’t dare think further.

He tried hard to control his emotions, recalling the scenes of the past few days. Except for being at Fu Zheng’s house yesterday and before, he hadn’t been anywhere else. It was impossible for him to have lost the medicine.

Cheng Huai’s heart pounded wildly, his face clouded with gloom. His increasingly agitated nerves made him lose self-control. He subconsciously bit the tender flesh inside his mouth; the wound opened again, and the taste of blood was released.

He turned his head gloomily, looking at his roommates’ beds. They were quiet and clean; no one was there.

The madness churning in Cheng Huai’s heart screamed to break through his body. He braced his hands on the desk, his inner turmoil growing more frantic.

The next second, he grabbed the water glass on the desk and smashed it against the wall with a “bang.” Glass shattered everywhere, and water droplets slid down the wall. The sound also woke Cheng Huai’s clouded brain.

He clutched his head, trying his best to restrain the urge to smash more things.

This was the dormitory; there was no one to clean up after him.

Feeling the buzzing roar in his head, Cheng Huai’s fingers trembled as he poured a pill from the white bottle, stuffed it into his mouth, and swallowed.

Half an hour later, his sensitive nerves calmed down, and a layer of cold sweat appeared on Cheng Huai’s forehead.

The medicine contained sedative components. Cheng Huai’s body felt weak, and he shook his head to stay conscious.

Fu Zheng was still waiting for him downstairs.

Right, Fu Zheng was still downstairs.

Realizing this, Cheng Huai snapped awake. He hurriedly grabbed his backpack. In the chaos, the things he had just packed were scattered on the floor again.

Cheng Huai collapsed onto the floor, the panic in his heart almost swallowing him whole. He buried his face between his legs, and hot tears fell from his face.

At that moment, the phone suddenly rang.

Cheng Huai lifted his face and saw the caller ID: Fu Zheng.

He wiped away his tears, took several deep breaths, and pressed the answer button with trembling fingers. Fu Zheng’s deep voice came through the receiver, mixed with electronic static, instantly soothing Cheng Huai’s frayed nerves.

“Not finished packing yet?”

Cheng Huai’s eyes instantly turned red with a sense of grievance. In the countless restless, sleepless nights, the countless times he used pain to numb his nerves, he had always hoped to hear this voice. It was his salvation, able to pull him out of the abyss in an instant.

Cheng Huai did his best to adjust his emotions and said, “I’m finished. Brother, I’m coming down now.”

He waited a few more minutes until his legs didn’t feel so weak. Then he stood up, cleaned up the glass fragments, repacked the fallen items, and hurried back to the car.

Fu Zheng was constantly on the phone. After Cheng Huai got in, he stepped on the gas and drove away from the school.

Cheng Huai’s mind was a mess. He curled up listlessly in his seat, looking spiritless.

Fu Zheng was listening to the call through a Bluetooth headset. He reached out a hand to feel Cheng Huai’s forehead and asked, “Uncomfortable?”

The person on the other end of the phone paused, immediately going silent.

Cheng Huai turned his head blankly, taking a few seconds to realize what Fu Zheng was asking him.

He pulled himself together, narrowed his eyes slightly with a smile, caught Fu Zheng’s hand, and laughed: “Brother, I do feel a bit uncomfortable. It feels awful. Can you skip work and stay home to accompany me?”

Fu Zheng watched him acting spoiled; this was a tactic he often used, but that smile looked fake no matter how one viewed it.

Cheng Huai blinked, holding Fu Zheng’s hand and refusing to let go.

Fu Zheng’s gaze was indifferent. He didn’t press for details but flicked Cheng Huai’s forehead with his finger. Then he withdrew his hand, tapped his headset twice, and signaled: “Continue.”

The person on the other end was suddenly revived and continued reporting work methodically.

Cheng Huai quietly breathed a sigh of relief. He turned to look out the window, trying hard to maintain his inner peace.

It happened to be the morning rush hour, and the road was congested.

Cheng Huai’s spirit grew worse. Just as he was about to close his eyes and fall asleep, the phone in his pocket vibrated. A message had been sent to the roommate group a poster for the recruitment of the Artificial Intelligence Experimental Team at Beijing University’s School of Computer Science.

Cheng Huai subconsciously looked at Fu Zheng.

Fu Zheng had just finished the call. He was turning the steering wheel to overtake. Without turning his head, he asked directly, “What is it?”

“Brother, is your lab recruiting?”

Fu Zheng thought for a moment and nodded slightly: “Mm, there should be such a thing.”

“Oh.” Cheng Huai lowered his head and suddenly fell silent.

“Want to join?” Fu Zheng asked.

“Yes,” Cheng Huai raised his head and said, “I do.”

He unconsciously touched the scars on his wrist and said, “Brother, I quite like computers.” It wasn’t entirely because of you that I chose the computer science major.

But Cheng Huai didn’t say the second half of that sentence.

This was probably one of the few interests he had discovered in nineteen years besides Fu Zheng.

In Cheng Huai’s memory, he had almost never shown extra interest in anyone or anything other than Fu Zheng.

Perhaps because heaven had blessed him with a clever mind, he had never worried about his studies, but he had been a picky eater with a weak constitution since childhood. Having been pampered by Fu Zheng for too long, his health just wouldn’t improve no matter how he was raised.

When Fu Zheng first left, he went on a hunger strike in protest. His parents sent him to the hospital to keep him alive, and he took a year off school. Later, when his health recovered a bit, he put all his effort into getting into Beijing University just to be with Fu Zheng.

The initial purpose was indeed because of Fu Zheng that’s why he chose the computer science major without hesitation. But after trying it himself, he found he was genuinely interested.

However, his parents didn’t agree.

His parents didn’t like him being too close to Fu Zheng.

Cheng Huai’s academic choice had been changed by them. For this reason, he didn’t hesitate to break ties with his parents, repeatedly resorting to self-harm and risking his life until he finally got his way and came to Beijing University.

“You like computers?” Fu Zheng turned to look at him and asked suddenly.

“I like them,” Cheng Huai said affirmatively. He suddenly gained energy, enthusiastically sharing the moment he fell in love with computers with Fu Zheng, completely failing to notice Fu Zheng’s increasingly dark expression.

“At first, looking at those codes, they felt like crawling caterpillars green and disgusting. Later, I tried programming something myself, and I actually drew a beating heart! It was simply magical! Brother, do you feel that way when you write code?”

“No,” Fu Zheng said decisively.

The road was bustling with traffic. They would be home after one more turn, but the queue for the light stretched to the next intersection.

Fu Zheng didn’t consider himself a particularly patient person, especially regarding unexpected things beyond his control, like the current traffic jam. Impatience gradually surfaced between his brows.

“How much do you like it?” Fu Zheng continued to press.

“What?” Cheng Huai didn’t react for a moment to what he was being asked.

“Don’t you like computers?” The corner of Fu Zheng’s mouth curled into a minuscule arc: “How much do you like them?”

This question was a bit difficult for Cheng Huai. He frowned and thought: “I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it. Actually, it can’t be called ‘especially’ liking it; I’m just quite interested.”

“But, Brother,” Cheng Huai blinked, changing the subject: “It seems that besides you, I really don’t have anything I particularly like. The only thing I can be sure of is that the one I like most is you.”

Cheng Huai’s feelings were straightforward and intense, laid out entirely before Fu Zheng.

Just then, they hit another red light. The car moved forward a couple of times and then came to a halt.

Fu Zheng turned his head, staring intently at Cheng Huai’s features. His face was cold, and the emotions in his eyes were complex and hard to read. He narrowed his eyes slightly, as if harboring anger. From his thin lips, two words emerged like a demon’s whisper: “Cheng Huai.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t say it, I won’t say it.” Cheng Huai wisely shut his mouth and curled back into the passenger seat, letting out a lazy yawn.

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