What Bad Intentions Could a Spoiled Little Brat Possibly have? - Chapter 2

He is My Boyfriend

The blood rushed to Cheng Huai’s head, every tiny nerve ending screaming with the urge to get closer.

In that instant, he was deaf to all external noise; the only thing echoing in his ears was the sound of Fu Zheng’s footsteps.

One, two, three…

It was as if they were knocking directly against his heart.

“Hello, everyone,” Fu Zheng said, his words falling with measured weight, his voice slightly raspy. He stood behind the rostrum and adjusted the microphone in front of him. The piercing screech of metal clashing rang out through the speakers.

Fu Zheng frowned slightly and leaned back, waiting for the harsh noise to dissipate. He then raised his index finger and tapped the top of the mic. Only after hearing the muffled “thump-thump” from the speakers did he refocus his gaze on the crowd below.

That single movement, paired with those cold, indifferent eyes, left the girls in the audience completely infatuated. Some looked as though they might lose their minds, clutching their chests and collapsing back into their seats.

“I am Fu Zheng.”

Fu Zheng’s gaze swept emotionlessly across everyone present, finally coming to rest on the youth sitting in the dead center of the first row.

Cheng Huai was staring straight at him. Unlike the others, whose gazes were filled with admiration or adoration, Cheng Huai’s eyes were scorching a raw, blatant desire so palpable it could almost incinerate him.

Those few words landed softly in Cheng Huai’s heart, tearing a rift into the tip of an iceberg of memory.

“I am Fu Zheng, not Cheng Zheng.”

“Cheng Huai, don’t you understand yet? I’m not your brother, and you aren’t my younger brother. We have no blood relation whatsoever.”

“Stop coming to find me. Stop pestering me. I’m begging you.”

Cheng Huai’s upper body stiffened involuntarily. He bit down on the unhealed wounds on the inside of his cheek, the recurring pain of reopening the scars providing a surge of intense pleasure.

“Hey, classmate, can you lean down a bit? You’re blocking my view.” A girl in the row behind him complained, holding up her phone. A hand with long, manicured nails tapped Cheng Huai on the shoulder.

“Yeah, seriously, don’t block us from filming the male god!”

Cheng Huai turned his head. It was as if a forbidden scale had been touched; a gloomy aura radiated from him. He didn’t hide the malice in his eyes in time, and a gaze as cold and sinister as a serpent’s landed on the two girls.

Gu Siming also looked back, offering an apologetic smile. “So sorry, really sorry,” he stammered, before nudging Cheng Huai with his elbow.

In an instant, Cheng Huai’s expression returned to normal. He slowly lowered his body, his eyes returning to the stage.

The two girls fell silent immediately. They froze with their phones mid-air, wondering if they had simply hallucinated that terrifying, ghoulish expression on Cheng Huai’s face.

“So, what do you think?” Gu Siming leaned half his weight toward Cheng Huai. Since the first row was too conspicuous, he pouted and spoke through gritted teeth like a ventriloquist: “Isn’t Senior handsome? He’s been the top-ranked ‘School Grass’ of Peking University since he enrolled. And he’s a total hunk. I officially declare that I’m willing to be Senior’s ‘dream girl.'”

Leng Muyu glanced at Gu Siming with disgust. “Then you’d better head to Thailand for a sex change first.”

Cheng Huai gave a soft “mm.” The constant clicking of camera shutters filled his ears, and only now did he realize that Fu Zheng’s popularity at school far exceeded his imagination.

It wasn’t just the girls; even the guys were huddled in small groups, taking photos and whispering their unconcealed fascination with Fu Zheng.

Cheng Huai clenched his fists, letting his nails dig into the meat of his palms. His other hand reached into his pocket, brushing against the matte texture of a cigarette box and the icy touch of a lighter. A nicotine craving he hadn’t felt in a long time began to claw at his nerves.

He didn’t hear a single word Fu Zheng said.

His attention traced the line of Fu Zheng’s Adam’s apple, rolling down to his chest, his waist, and further down—to where the slim-fit suit trousers clung tightly to a prominent bulge.

Cheng Huai swallowed involuntarily, a burning lust stirring within him.

“Brother, you can only be mine…” Cheng Huai sighed inwardly.

The host’s voice broke his train of thought: “Thank you, Fu Zheng. We will now leave twenty minutes for a Q&A session. If any juniors have questions, you may ask Senior Fu Zheng now.”

The host nodded to Fu Zheng. The auditorium suddenly grew chaotic as people scrambled to stand up and ask questions.

“Everyone, don’t panic! Let’s stay quiet. If you want to ask a question, please raise your hand. Senior Fu Zheng will personally select the questioners. To be fair, each person can only ask one question. Please be thoughtful don’t miss this golden opportunity!”

The microphone was handed back to Fu Zheng. His gaze remained cold as he looked over the sea of raised hands. He randomly pointed to a boy.

“Senior, I’d like to know if current domestic AI technology can support the ‘low-altitude economy’ enough to eventually replace existing smart travel methods?”

While being watched by that unwavering, following gaze from below, Fu Zheng heard the question and rarely let the corners of his mouth tilt up into a faint, ghost of a smile. “Please sit. That’s an excellent question. I firmly believe, without a doubt, that the answer is yes. Imagine a future where the sky is no longer a silent blue expanse, but a three-dimensional, potentially congested, and ‘tempered’ transportation network. Your drone delivery and your neighbor’s flying car might be having a bloodless argument via AI voice systems over a mid-air parking spot. This isn’t just a vision; it will likely become reality soon.”

Fu Zheng’s explanation was both scientific and humorous. The audience erupted in laughter, which slightly dissipated the intimidating coldness of his previous demeanor.

Time ticked by. Whether it was technical questions or discussions about future academics, Fu Zheng answered them all patiently.

The Dean and professors sitting in the front row finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Anyone even remotely familiar with Fu Zheng knew his style.

He was like a deep, bottomless pool of water; it was impossible to peek into his heart. Even in moments of excitement, he maintained his indifference with a near-ruthless level of restraint.

Getting Fu Zheng to show off his academic prowess in public and act like a “kindly senior” to new students was usually a pipe dream.

Previously, everyone from the counselors to the professors and the Dean had tried their best to persuade him to give this report to the freshmen, but their silver tongues couldn’t move his hardened heart.

Yet, unexpectedly, the man who never changed his mind had relented two afternoons ago. And now, he was actually standing on stage, chatting eloquently with his juniors.

The Dean and professors nodded with benevolent smiles.

Regardless of whether Fu Zheng had “taken the wrong medicine,” this scene was truly heartening!

For the final question, a long-haired girl was selected. Just as Fu Zheng expected a standard academic query, the girl suddenly gave a mysterious smile. The companion sitting next to her turned beet-red and tugged at the girl’s hem, but the girl ignored her and spoke up: “Senior, I have a personal question I want to ask on behalf of my bestie.”

“Don’t…” The girl sitting down was incredibly embarrassed. Although she was physically trying to stop her friend, her bright eyes were shimmering she might as well have had the words “I like Fu Zheng” tattooed on her face.

“May I ask…” The girl paused, and the entire audience held its breath. “Does Senior have a girlfriend?”

The room immediately broke into an uproar. From behind Cheng Huai came a coy voice: “I want to know too!!”

Someone even whistled and shouted from the back: “You didn’t ask the whole thing! If he doesn’t have a girlfriend, what if he has a boyfriend?”

The atmosphere took a 180-degree turn. The Dean couldn’t take it anymore and slammed the table in frustration: “What is this behavior?!”

Cheng Huai followed the noise with his eyes. The one asking, the ones jeering amidst the cheering, his gaze drifted calmly over them, silently memorizing their faces.

The girl realized her mistake and quickly corrected herself: “Then let me rephrase: Senior, do you have a girlfriend or a boyfriend?”

“No.” The cold, deep voice echoed through the speakers into every corner of the hall.

The host stepped in to regain control: “Alright, alright, that concludes our Q&A. Let’s give another round of applause to thank Senior Fu Zheng! That ends our ceremony for today. Everyone is dismissed.”

“He said no!”

“What…?” A girl sat back down, dejected. “No? Does ‘no’ mean no girlfriend, or no boyfriend, or neither??”

“Senior, don’t leave!!”

Cheng Huai’s eyes followed Fu Zheng’s figure. Fu Zheng looked slightly irritated as he tugged at his collar, his third button popping under the strain. He didn’t leave the building immediately but headed toward the backstage area.

The girl who had nudged her friend to ask the question also turned red. Taking advantage of the chaotic crowd, she slipped away and followed him backstage.

Cheng Huai instinctively followed. Meng Qi looked back and saw Cheng Huai walking against the flow of the crowd. He stopped and called out, “Cheng Huai, this way!”

“Don’t wait for me,” Cheng Huai tossed back four curt words.

The crowd was thick, and before long, Cheng Huai vanished into the throng.

The backstage area was quiet.

Cheng Huai carefully avoided the speakers piled on the floor and stepped over the tangled mess of wires, stopping outside a door that was slightly ajar.

“Senior,” a sweet female voice drifted from inside.

Cheng Huai leaned against the wall, pulled a cigarette from his pocket, and flipped his lighter in his hand.

“Just now you said you didn’t have a girlfriend, so I wanted to ask…”

With a clink, the blue flame of the lighter flickered, casting a brief light over Cheng Huai’s cheek. His hand holding the cigarette trembled slightly, the tip of the ember glowing and fading.

“Can I confess to you, Senior?” The girl’s voice was shaky, filled with both nerves and expectation.

Cheng Huai didn’t smoke it. He let the cigarette burn silently, a mocking smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

The familiar voice reached his ears.

Cheng Huai took two steps forward. Fu Zheng was facing away from him, his expression cold as he looked down to organize the materials on the backstage table. He didn’t give so much as a glance to the girl standing before him with a pink confession gift.

The two-word rejection wasn’t enough to stop her. Instead, the girl grew bolder, persisting: “Senior, I’ve liked you for a long time. Ever since the AI competition, I’ve been following you. The reason I applied for the School of Computer Science at PKU was because of you, I—”

Cheng Huai crushed the cigarette out in his palm and stepped into the room.

She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence. She stared in shock at the sudden appearance of Cheng Huai.

Cheng Huai shoved her aside, grabbed Fu Zheng’s collar, stood on his tiptoes, and bit down hard on the other man’s lips. The faint taste of blood began to spread between them.

A terrifying intensity swirled in Cheng Huai’s eyes, yet the rims of his eyes were red. He was trembling so hard he could barely stand, but his voice was laced with sheer malice: “He has a boyfriend. He’s mine. You get lost.”

Fu Zheng: “…”

Seeing Cheng Huai’s swaying form, a lifelong instinct overrode any impulse to punish Cheng Huai for his outrageous behavior. Instead, Fu Zheng reached out with one hand and gripped Cheng Huai’s waist, steadying him on the spot.

The girl was stunned. She froze where she stood. “You… you are…”

Cheng Huai stared at her coldly and repeated himself: “Get out.”

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