What Bad Intentions Could a Spoiled Little Brat Possibly have? - Chapter 16

Be Good, Baby

“Exactly how much did you drink?” Fu Zheng looked down at him, his voice deep and low.

Cheng Huai was hazy with drunkenness, grief and grievance intertwining within him. He asked back in a muddled voice, “…What?”

“Otherwise, how could you ask such a thing?” There was no detectable emotion in Fu Zheng’s tone, yet it made Cheng Huai’s heart tighten more than any explanation ever could.

He let out a whimper and buried his entire face into the crook of Fu Zheng’s neck. Like a small animal seeking shelter, he rubbed against him forcefully, as if the person before him would disappear the moment he let go.

Zhou Yuan was now completely short-circuited.

It was just a blind date dinner; how did it escalate to a topic as serious as “abandonment”?

“Um, little brother, actually, about tonight…” Zhou Yuan wanted to explain the specific situation to Cheng Huai. After all, there was a reason for all of this, and he couldn’t let his boss suffer a misunderstanding for no reason. But before he could finish, he was coldly interrupted.

“Shut up.”

Zhou Yuan’s hand on the steering wheel jerked; he didn’t dare say another word, only stealing a glance at the rearview mirror.

Cheng Huai seemed to have fallen asleep. His hands, which had been restrained earlier, were now tightly wrapped around Fu Zheng’s waist. His long legs were also restless, hooking over the older man as he coiled himself around Fu Zheng like a vine.

As he moved, the jacket originally wrapped around him began to slide off. Fu Zheng silently pulled him into his arms, readjusting the jacket to wrap him up tightly once more.

For some reason, Zhou Yuan suddenly felt a strange dryness in his throat and instinctively looked away.

Outside the car window, rain had begun to fall at some unknown point.

The raindrops drummed densely against the glass, a pitter-patter that served as a silent accompaniment, making the silence inside the carriage feel even more ambiguous.

Cheng Huai drifted through a turbulent dreamscape, finding himself back in the autumn when Fu Zheng had just started university.

At that time, Cheng Huai had just entered the first year of junior high, but he was already suffering from severe separation anxiety.

In his life up to that point, he had never been separated from Fu Zheng for more than twenty-four hours. Upon learning that his brother was about to leave home for a distant city, he felt as though the sky were collapsing.

Since their parents weren’t around much during their childhood, it was Fu Zheng who had raised him single-handedly. This dependence had long been carved into his bones and blood, becoming a near-pathological obsession.

It wasn’t that their parents hadn’t tried to correct it, but from the moment Cheng Huai was born, he had chosen this brother.

It was said that when he was a newborn, he cried until he nearly went into shock no matter who held him except for the moment Fu Zheng reached out to take him. The infant in the swaddling clothes had instantly broken into a smile.

Those tiny hands, having just left the womb, had tightly gripped the teenage boy’s finger and refused to let go.

As he grew older, he gradually formed a habit: he would only truly listen to what Fu Zheng said. Whether he actually took it to heart was one thing, but on the surface, he was always obedient.

On the day Fu Zheng left for university registration, their parents drove them to the airport. On the way, Cheng Huai sat in the back seat, gloomy the entire time, looking down and twisting his fingers in silence.

That morning, he had absentmindedly shattered the porcelain dish he used for his steamed egg custard. Fearing he would step on the shards, Fu Zheng had picked him up directly from the spot and moved him to a clean area before cleaning up the mess.

At that moment, Cheng Huai felt a faint ache in his stomach, as if the shadow of parting had already manifested as physical pain.

Fu Zheng stared at his silent profile and took the hand he had been tormenting, ruffling his curly hair. “Unhappy?”

Cheng Huai nodded truthfully, his voice muffled. “Brother, I miss you.”

Back then, Fu Zheng wasn’t as sparing with his words as he was now. Amused by Cheng Huai’s blunt attachment, he pinched the boy’s soft cheek. “I haven’t even left yet.”

“But I already started missing you just now…” Cheng Huai’s eyes welled up with moisture, speaking with absolute earnestness. “I started missing you during breakfast. Even though you were right in front of me, it still hurt to think about it. That custard was so salty saltier than my tears. I wanted to be strong, but brother, the moment I think about you leaving, I can’t be strong at all…”

Before he could finish, the string he had been holding onto snapped. He lunged into Fu Zheng’s arms, crying until his nose and tears were smeared all over the other.

Fu Zheng didn’t find him disgusting; he held him and coaxed him in a low voice.

In the front seat, Cheng Jiayun and Chang Shu couldn’t bear to watch any longer. They exchanged a look, and then Chang Shu pulled out a few tissues and handed them back, scolding, “What are you crying for? It’s not like your brother isn’t coming back. What does it look like, crying like this!”

Cheng Huai’s sobbing instantly quieted down. He whimpered, let go, and lowered his head to weep silently.

Fu Zheng frowned but said nothing. He took the tissues, felt the rough texture of the paper against his fingertips, and casually crumpled them into a ball.

The craftsmanship of this brand of tissue was too coarse; it would cause a rash on Cheng Huai’s face.

Fu Zheng pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, tilted up the tear-stained face, and carefully wiped away the marks. He helped the boy blow his nose before folding the handkerchief and putting it away.

“No more crying,” Fu Zheng patted the top of his head.

At the airport, Fu Zheng had to enter security. The others couldn’t follow, having to stop there for the final farewell.

Cheng Huai’s eyes were swollen from crying, his small face flushed bright red as he gripped Fu Zheng’s hem, refusing to let him go.

Cheng Jiayun and Chang Shu stood a few steps away, watching the inseparable brothers with faces full of complex melancholy.

“Be good, baby. Don’t make your brother worry.” Fu Zheng stood his suitcase beside him, his dry, warm fingers gently wiping the tear tracks from the boy’s face. “Call me if you miss me.”

Cheng Huai nodded, but he wasn’t happy at all.

Fu Zheng’s thumb brushed against his cheek as he whispered a promise: “I promise you, I’ll fly back every weekend to be with you. Just hold on a bit; you can sleep in my arms by Friday night. When that time comes, I’ll let you be as fussy as you want, okay?”

“Really?” Cheng Huai lifted his tearful eyes, suddenly feeling a glimmer of hope.

“Really. When has your brother ever lied to you?”

“Okay then…” Cheng Huai was still in low spirits, but at least he was no longer as resistant to Fu Zheng leaving.

Before departing, Cheng Huai stood outside the security line, watching Fu Zheng’s figure disappear into the end of the corridor. He stubbornly refused to leave until he was finally dragged back to the car by his parents.

That night, Cheng Huai fell into a high fever and fainted. Violent gastrointestinal reactions left him vomiting and suffering from diarrhea.

Cheng Jiayun and Chang Shu, having never really looked after him, were in a frantic mess. In his blurred consciousness, Cheng Huai cried and shouted for his brother, making things difficult. Eventually, having reached their limit, his parents sent him to the hospital.

By the time he woke up, Fu Zheng had already landed.

Learning that Cheng Huai had fallen ill, Fu Zheng hadn’t rested at all, waiting for Cheng Huai to wake up so he could call him back.

Cheng Huai reclined on the hospital bed, cold fluids dripping into his arm. He placed a video call, which Fu Zheng answered almost instantly.

“Do you still feel unwell anywhere?” Fu Zheng keenly noticed the hospital background behind Cheng Huai and frowned. “Where are Mom and Dad?”

Hearing sounds from the hallway, Cheng Huai said, “They’re outside.”

He hadn’t adapted to Fu Zheng’s departure. Though he accepted it rationally, he couldn’t adapt emotionally. He stubbornly believed that if Fu Zheng were there, being sick wouldn’t be this hard to endure.

“I don’t feel good anywhere…” Cheng Huai felt a wave of grievance. “I want you to come back.”

Fu Zheng was nearly two thousand kilometers away. Though his heart ached, he was powerless. Excessive worry made his expression somewhat cold. “Listen to Mom and Dad, and wait for me to come back.”

Just then, the ward door was pushed open, and Chang Shu walked in with hot water.

Seeing her in the video, Fu Zheng said, “Give the phone to Mom first.”

Cheng Huai sat up. Seeing his mother’s face, he felt an inexplicable sense of timidity. He obediently reached out and handed the phone over, saying, “Mom, brother has something to ask you.”

Chang Shu took the phone. She didn’t leave, instead sitting on the escort bed nearby. Cheng Huai pricked up his ears and heard Fu Zheng telling her about some things to watch out for, the medications Cheng Huai was allergic to, and dietary restrictions during his illness.

By the end of it, Chang Shu’s face looked a bit strained. her smile gradually stiffened. “Alright, you focus on your classes at school. Don’t worry about things at home. I gave birth to Cheng Huai; I know how to take care of him.”

At that time, Cheng Huai was so full of longing for his brother that he didn’t notice the underlying meaning of those words at all.

And Fu Zheng indeed kept his promise. During their days apart, no matter when Cheng Huai initiated a video call, he almost always answered in seconds.

If he was in class, Fu Zheng would set his phone to silent and prop it up on the desk so that Cheng Huai could see him.

In the evenings, Cheng Huai would share things that happened at school. Most of the time, Fu Zheng would just listen, responding with a sentence or two or helping lead into the next topic. When Cheng Huai grew tired of talking, they would keep the video call on while they each did their own thing.

When it came to Cheng Huai, Fu Zheng had never broken a promise.

From that day until the summer before Fu Zheng’s junior year for exactly seven hundred and thirty-seven days and one hundred and five weekends he returned promptly every Friday and left late Sunday night.

Neither wind nor rain stopped him, just as he had initially promised.

The vehicle slowed to a stop at the base of the apartment building amidst the torrential rain.

Dense raindrops smashed against the ground, splashing into continuous ripples. The entire residential area was shrouded in a hazy mist.

Zhou Yuan got out first, opening an umbrella before opening the rear door.

Fu Zheng wrapped Cheng Huai tightly in his jacket and lifted the sleeping man in a horizontal carry. Although he had been keeping him close and the boy had put on a little weight, he was still so light in his arms.

Zhou Yuan escorted them all the way to the elevator. Looking at the sleeping profile in Fu Zheng’s arms, he still felt a bit apprehensive.

“I don’t need you here anymore. Take the car. Have the driver pick me up tomorrow morning.”

“Understood.” Zhou Yuan pressed the elevator button and watched as Fu Zheng carried Cheng Huai into the cab. He didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until the metal doors slowly closed and he turned to leave.

In the bedroom, Fu Zheng placed him gently on the bed. He switched on a floor lamp, the warm light bathing Cheng Huai’s flushed cheeks.

Fu Zheng went to the bathroom for a wet towel. When he returned, he found that Cheng Huai had already kicked most of the jacket off.

Fu Zheng frowned, propping up the limp body to efficiently remove the jacket. The rainy night was muggy and humid; he set the air conditioning to a comfortable temperature and pulled a thin quilt over Cheng Huai.

The wet towel was cool. As it brushed against Cheng Huai’s burning cheek, he subconsciously sought out the comfort, eventually grabbing Fu Zheng’s hand and burying his hot face into the palm.

Fu Zheng shook his head slightly. “Wake up. I’m going to get medicine.”

Cheng Huai only frowned, nesting deeper into that coolness.

Left with no choice, Fu Zheng pulled his hand away and went to the living room. In the medicine chest, he found hangover medicine and Cheng Huai’s usual allergy medication; he had prepared a supply of both in advance.

When he returned to the bedroom with a glass of water, he saw that Cheng Huai had woken up at some point, staring blankly ahead with unfocused eyes.

Only when he saw Fu Zheng walk in did those hazy eyes flicker slightly.

“You’re awake?” Fu Zheng’s voice sounded as if it had been soaked in cold water. “Get up and take your medicine.”

He leaned down to support the body, letting Cheng Huai lean against his chest as he fed him the pills.

Cheng Huai stared at him blankly, his lips parting several times as if he wanted to say something.

Fu Zheng picked up the jacket Cheng Huai had accidentally brushed onto the floor and asked, “What do you want to say?”

Cheng Huai spoke, his voice somewhat raspy. “Aren’t you curious?”

Fu Zheng stood in the shadows where the floor lamp couldn’t reach, his gaze landing on him. “Curious about what?”

Cheng Huai didn’t know if he was still drunk or had sobered up. “Curious as to why I appeared at your blind date dinner.”

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