What Bad Intentions Could a Spoiled Little Brat Possibly have? - Chapter 22

Can I Kiss You?

Fu Zheng decisively switched off the vibrating phone and immediately connected to the driver’s seat: “Uncle Wang, turn around. Go to the nearest hospital.”

“I’m not going to the hospital…” Hearing this, Cheng Huai struggled to raise his sweat-soaked face to protest. However, another sudden wave of heat surging through his body made his waist go limp, and he collapsed weakly into Fu Zheng’s arms.

He bit his finger and closed his eyes, his thick, long lashes drenched with physiological tears, trembling slightly with his heavy breaths.

“Brother, I want to go home…” he pleaded indistinctly, biting the tip of his tongue so hard it was nearly mangled. A faint scent of blood seeped from between his lips. “Don’t go… don’t leave me alone…”

Long-suppressed emotions completely broke down along with his body’s abnormal reaction. Cheng Huai incoherently repeated broken prayers. His skin, unable to find relief, flushed an unnatural crimson, and a fine, dense sense of emptiness gnawed beneath his skin like thousands of ants.

Fu Zheng pulled him entirely into his embrace, his thumb lightly stroking the burning nape of the boy’s neck, his voice dropping to a very slow pace: “I’m not leaving. We’ll go to the hospital first to see if there’s a good way to relieve this.”

Feeling the coolness from Fu Zheng’s body, Cheng Huai unconsciously curled deeper into his chest. The tightly wound string was teetering on the edge, liable to snap completely at any moment.

Sweat gradually soaked the stray hairs on his forehead, while his throat was painfully dry: “Can we not go to the hospital? Brother, I want to go home. I’m so tired…”

He looked up, and from this angle, he could clearly see Fu Zheng’s lowered eyelashes pause for a beat.

But in the next second, the man’s calm response shattered his last hope: “I’ll carry you there. You won’t be tired. It’ll be over soon.”

After a brief silence, Fu Zheng’s voice rang out deeply: “Be good, baby.”

This long-absent endearment made Cheng Huai shudder. The tips of his ears instantly burned hotter, and an uncontrollable sob escaped from deep in his throat. He suddenly lowered his head and, through the thin fabric of the shirt, fiercely bit down on Fu Zheng’s solid shoulder.

The hand Fu Zheng used to hold him suddenly tightened. The force made Cheng Huai gasp for a moment, as if the man wanted to crush him and melt him into his own flesh and blood before he would be satisfied.

Cheng Huai tilted his head back slightly. From this angle, he could see his brother’s Adam’s apple bobbing every movement looking like a desperate attempt to suppress something.

“…Brother,” his lips trembled, his voice thin as silk. “Go home.”

Receiving no response for a long time, he forced his head up to look out the window, only to find that the car had already turned around and was speeding in the opposite direction of home. Predicting where he was about to be sent, Cheng Huai instinctively began to struggle.

The next second, he felt the arm around his waist tighten a few more degrees, squeezing him so hard he could barely breathe. He frowned slightly, but froze instantly upon hearing the warning by his ear: “Don’t move recklessly.”

To Cheng Huai’s ears, these words didn’t sound like a restraint; instead, they encouraged some unrealistic thoughts in his mind.

He raised his flushed face, his lips grazing Fu Zheng’s earlobe as if by accident. Then, as if finding a sanctuary, he pressed small, hot, wet kisses onto the man’s cheek, his ear, and finally lingered on the tense side of his neck.

In his hazy perception, he clearly felt Fu Zheng’s body grow rigid, and the sound of the breathing above his head grew heavier.

Despite his blurred consciousness, he instinctively avoided those tightly pursed thin lips. He simply rubbed his scorching lips against the other’s skin while murmuring with a crying tone: “Brother… can I kiss you?”

The air conditioner was on in the car, yet it couldn’t dissipate the rising temperature at all. This heat wasn’t just his own; it felt like his brother’s too, burning him even more uncomfortably.

Cheng Huai suddenly had a premonition. He felt that something was different. Just as he was about to tentatively bite Fu Zheng’s lip, his chin was suddenly seized. He was forced to lift his head by the pressure.

Fu Zheng looked down. Those eyes, usually as cold as a shallow beach, were now soaked in dark ink. He spoke a warning: “If you keep messing around, I’ll throw you out.”

The grip on his chin was released. Cheng Huai heard him turn to the driver’s seat, his voice still carrying an un-faded rasp as he asked, “Uncle Wang, how much longer until the hospital?”

Uncle Wang’s voice came through the display on the soundproof partition: “President Fu, the nearest hospital is still forty minutes away.”

Fu Zheng looked out the window. They were already very close to the Guange Academy. After a moment of thought, as if making a great resolution, he said: “Return to Guange Academy.”

Emotion eventually triumphed over logic. He truly could not endure having anyone else see Cheng Huai in his current state, let alone touch him. Just imagining strange hands examining Cheng Huai made it nearly impossible to control the surging violence in his heart; he feared he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from cutting off their hands.

At the same time, he took out his phone and dialed Yu Chuan. After briefly explaining the situation, the other side quickly agreed.

The car soon stopped downstairs at the complex. Fu Zheng took some effort to carry Cheng Huai out of the car.

Cheng Huai buried his face deep into the crook of Fu Zheng’s shoulder, rubbing restlessly. His body constantly curled up and then sprang back in the broad embrace, unable to find peace.

Fu Zheng had to clasp his fingers tightly around the back of the boy’s knees to prevent him from slipping during the struggle.

Walking quickly into the bedroom, Fu Zheng carefully placed him on the bed.

The air conditioner hummed softly. He pulled over a thin quilt to cover Cheng Huai and was about to get up to prepare a towel when a slender, pale hand suddenly reached out from under the covers and lightly grabbed his wrist.

“Brother…” Cheng Huai’s eyes were already blurred as he murmured like he was in a dream, his voice carrying a pained sob: “Don’t go…”

The strength was very light, yet Fu Zheng felt as if he were bound by something. In the end, he didn’t break away. He sat down by the bed and reached out to brush away the sweat-soaked hair on Cheng Huai’s forehead.

Only then was he able to carefully observe Cheng Huai’s condition. The youth’s lips were parched, his breathing was rapid, and his whole being seemed to be simmering over a fire.

Fu Zheng used his thumb to gently rub his dry lips, calling softly: “Baby.”

Cheng Huai’s brow furrowed even tighter. After being called twice more, he managed to lift his eyelids with great difficulty.

The intimate address made him feel as if he had returned to the days and nights spent by Fu Zheng’s side. It was as if the separation of over a thousand days during these four years had never existed.

Cheng Huai’s nose felt terribly sour. He sniffed hard, and the wave of heat rolling through his body drew out a soft moan.

“How do you feel now?” Fu Zheng leaned closer, his gaze focused on tracing every change on his face. “Tell Brother, where does it hurt?”

“Nowhere feels right… Brother, I’m so uncomfortable, really so uncomfortable… Help me…”

Fu Zheng curled his finger and gently wiped the tears from the corner of his eye: “Don’t be afraid, Brother is here.”

This comfort, however, made Cheng Huai even more heartbroken. He slowly let go of his hand. A fine, dense pain spread along his veins. Although he had made up his mind to interact as brothers, he still felt breathless with pain when he truly felt Fu Zheng’s implicit rejection.

The waves of heat inside him hit one after another, devouring his remaining sanity. Cheng Huai curled into a ball under the covers, a pained groan escaping his throat.

Fu Zheng checked the temperature of his forehead again. Seeing his eyes grow more and more lost, he raised his hand to pinch Cheng Huai’s jaw, forcing him to look up: “Don’t sleep yet. Dr. Yu will bring the medicine soon. Just hold on a little longer.”

“I can’t hold on…” Cheng Huai shook his head violently, tears wetting Fu Zheng’s fingertips. “I’m really suffering… Brother, save me… I’m so miserable I could die…”

He twisted painfully among the bedding and suddenly bit his lower lip hard, soon tasting the tang of blood.

“What are you doing?” Fu Zheng frowned, prying his teeth open. He grabbed a tissue and gently wiped away the beads of blood on his lips.

Cheng Huai tried to break free from his restraint but was held firmly. His eyelashes trembled, and tears fell silently: “I already told you… I’m suffering…”

In the past, as long as he felt the slightest discomfort, Fu Zheng could always comfort him immediately. Now, he had endured this torment alone for so long, and even though Fu Zheng was right beside him, he refused to lend a hand. This realization was even more despairing than the physical pain.

“Brother… actually, there’s a question I’ve always wanted to ask you.” Cheng Huai raised his misty eyes, which were brimming with tears.

Fu Zheng asked softly: “What question?”

Perhaps because his expression was so pained, Fu Zheng seemed exceptionally easy to talk to at this moment.

Cheng Huai’s eyes suddenly focused for a second as he asked: “Four years ago, why did you suddenly disappear?”

Without warning, without any expectation the person who was dressing him the day before had completely disappeared from his life the next day.

“For no particular reason,” Fu Zheng said simply.

Fu Zheng looked at him with deep eyes and sighed softly. He went to the bathroom to get a wet towel and wiped the sweat off Cheng Huai’s body, his fingers unintentionally brushing against his lower back.

“Mm…” Cheng Huai buried his face into the pillow.

Fu Zheng brushed the stray hairs from his forehead and wiped his face, asking: “Do you feel any better?”

Cheng Huai shook his head. For him, this was completely insufficient. The brief relief was like drinking poison to quench thirst; the next second, it dragged him back into the abyss of suffering.

This torture never belonged to just one person.

Fu Zheng closed his eyes, veins faintly bulging at his temples. He forced himself to look away, his throat tightening repeatedly.

The doorbell rang in the next moment.

Fu Zheng tucked the corners of the quilt around Cheng Huai and walked quickly downstairs to open the door.

Yu Chuan was sliding off Huo Tingdeep’s back. The usually elegant man’s chest was heaving rapidly, clearly having just undergone a period of exertion.

Yu Chuan met Fu Zheng’s gaze and covered his mouth with a light cough to ease the awkwardness.

Huo Tingshen loosely held him as he placed him on the ground. Yu Chuan turned and gave him a push, frowning: “Go wait for me in the car.” Without even having time to change his shoes, he followed Fu Zheng inside.

“Come in together.” Fu Zheng stepped back to let them both in.

Yu Chuan took a medicine bottle out of his pocket: “I checked Cheng Huai’s previous medication records. It’s very strange; he used to pick up his medicine monthly, but this time there was an interval of nearly six months.” He looked toward the second floor with concern. “How is he now? Do I need to go up and take a look?”

Fu Zheng reached out to stop him: “Not great. I’ll take care of him. How many pills does he need?”

“Three.” Yu Chuan had long seen through Fu Zheng’s feelings for Cheng Huai, and guessed that under these circumstances, Fu Zheng wouldn’t let him go up. After explaining how to use the medicine, he gave a yawn and leaned lazily against Huo Tingshen.

He had been tossed and turned by Huo Tingshen all last night until dawn before he managed to coax the man into a release. Today, his whole body was so sore he could barely get up, and he hadn’t given Huo Tingshen a good look all day.

“Apologies for the lack of hospitality, please make yourselves at home,” Fu Zheng said to Huo Tingshen.

Huo Tingshen nodded: “It’s fine. Attend to the important business first.”

Fu Zheng poured a glass of water and, holding the medicine bottle, returned to the bedroom.

In just a few short minutes, the bed had become a complete mess.

Support