What Bad Intentions Could a Spoiled Little Brat Possibly have? - Chapter 29

The… The Zipper is Stuck…

Inside the meeting room, the air was stagnant.

Fu Zheng sat regally at the head of the circular conference table. Zhou Yuan silently placed a stack of documents on the surface. Red-headed documents, black ink on white paper, seven copies in total they looked like seven unsheathed blades.

“This is…?” Chen Jiannan was the first to pick one up, passing the rest to the other directors. The moment his eyes hit the title, his pupils contracted sharply. Beside him, several others gasped in unison.

“The approval letter for the South District?!” someone exclaimed, losing their composure. “This piece of prime meat… how did you manage to sink your teeth into it?”

In the territory of Kyoto, there were many monks and very little porridge. In recent years, gazelle and unicorn enterprises had sprung up like bamboo shoots after rain. The scales of national policy had clearly tipped toward these emerging forces, while old-brand giants like themselves had begun to show fatigue in the battle for resources.

That land in the South District had taken two full years just for preliminary planning; its strategic value went without saying. To emerge victorious in this bloodless war was not merely a matter of commercial maneuvering the connections involved behind the scenes were unfathomably deep.

Fu Zheng’s fingertips brushed against the warm rim of his porcelain cup. Inside, the White Hair Silver Needle tea leaves unfurled in the hot water. The aged tea aroma drifted upward, releasing a unique medicinal scent mixed with honeyed notes subtle, yet domineering.

Fu Zheng didn’t answer directly. He simply placed the teacup back onto its saucer. “I invited you all here today specifically to discuss this matter. Although this land was won in the name of Yunhuan, the original plan was to build a low-altitude flight testing ground.”

He paused deliberately, taking a sip of tea as his gaze slowly swept across every face in the room, each wearing a different expression. “However, I have decided to give it up.”

“Give it up?!”

“President Fu, you can’t just say things like that!”

Several directors spoke at once, their faces masks of disbelief.

Fu Zheng merely looked down at the tea leaves floating in his cup. White Hair Silver Needle originated from wild ancient trees; its production process was extremely simple withering and drying. It seemed unrefined, but it was precisely this “lack of action” that tested the raw quality of the material and the power of time’s maturation.

It didn’t rely on fierce fires for carving; it transformed naturally through time to eventually become mellow and thick. Much like himself. He had been dormant for a long time; it was finally time to pull in the net.

“You… you don’t want it?” Chen Jiannan’s voice cracked with urgency. “Then how exactly will this land be handled?”

Fu Zheng raised his hand slightly, his implication clear.

The directors present were divided between the swallowed factions of Yunsheng and Yunqing. Yunqing started in hardware manufacturing and wasn’t particularly keen on real estate. But Yunsheng was different. The traditional real estate industry was a sunset business; they desperately needed a “gold-lettered signboard” like the South District to develop high-end emerging residential projects and stabilize their crumbling market position.

Although Fu Zheng had completed the reverse takeover, the shareholding structure was convoluted, and his foundation was far from solid. One wrong step, and these old foxes who had been entrenched for years could easily swallow him whole, bones and all.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought of an escape route for himself. If he were alone, even if he were stepped into the mud, he had the ability to struggle back up.

But things were different now. Cheng Huai was by his side. The person he wanted to hold in the palm of his hand and protect in the depths of his heart. To give Cheng Huai the most stable harbor and the most opulent life, he had to clear away all potential risks. He couldn’t afford a single mistake.

If Cheng Huai was willing to stay under his wing forever, he would build an impregnable kingdom. If one day Cheng Huai wanted to see the wider world, he had to be the strongest backbone to help him soar freely. For this, he could not lose the current gambit.

“The land, of course, remains an asset of Yunhuan,” Fu Zheng finally spoke, his voice low. “But the dominant right of development I can cede that.”

Fu Zheng’s voice fell clearly in the silent room. “If the directors truly have the intention to cooperate, the development of the land can be guaranteed by Yunhuan. The specific communication and coordination will be followed through by Yunhuan’s legal and strategic departments.”

Chen Jiannan fell into a long silence. This guarantee meant that no matter the final outcome—whether the project was completed smoothly, stalled midway, or became an abandoned ‘rotten-tail’ building—the ultimate legal and financial responsibility would be borne entirely by Yunhuan. This was no different from a ‘death-exemption medal’; the temptation was immense.

Fu Zheng leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto Chen Jiannan and his flickering allies like a hawk. “The condition is: I want absolute controlling rights over Yunsheng’s Smart Home Business Unit for the next three years, as well as a total of 10% of the shares currently held by you all.”

The moment the words fell, the room went dead silent.

Everyone understood that this wasn’t a discussion. This was a chess game that had been set long ago, and the player had never intended to leave them an exit.

The directors quickly exchanged looks, silent calculations flowing through the air. They knew full well that once they agreed, Fu Zheng would use this transaction to become the substantive controlling shareholder of all three companies.

But if they didn’t agree, Yunsheng’s tight capital chain and shrinking business meant it likely wouldn’t survive the winter, eventually meeting the fate of being dismembered and liquidated.

Where was the cooperation in this? He was clearly aiming for Yunsheng’s vital pulse, pressing in step by step. Their current predicament was like a traveler dying in the wilderness a single chance of survival appeared, but they were told one step forward meant shattering their bones, while one step back meant eternal damnation.

“Choosing the lesser of two evils,” Fu Zheng said, as if seeing through their struggle, his tone flat yet incredibly oppressive. “A 10% stake is not an unbearable weight for those sitting here. This is merely my proposal. The final decision remains in your hands.”

He paused, tapping his finger lightly on the polished conference table. “My items have been presented. If there are no other topics, today’s meeting ends here.”

Fu Zheng nodded slightly, signaling Zhou Yuan to see the guests out, while he stood up first and walked toward the door.

“Wait, President Fu.” Just as he was about to step out, Chen Jiannan’s voice sounded from behind him.

Fu Zheng paused but did not turn around.

Chen Jiannan looked at the other directors who had followed him out with varying expressions, as if he had finally made a resolution. He tentatively spoke: “That person just now… is he truly your younger brother?”

He had spent years in the business world, and through his skirmishes with Fu Zheng, he didn’t dare view this young man as a common greenhorn. He knew Fu Zheng acted with meticulous precision and was never impulsive. For Fu Zheng to act so out of character even going as far as using a heavy bargaining chip like the South District land to set a trap it was likely because someone had touched an untouchable ‘reverse scale.’

Chen Jiannan tried to soften the atmosphere by bringing up the past. “When Old Brother Fu was alive, I never heard him mention you had another brother. I was blind before and didn’t understand the situation. If I offended him, I offer my apologies here.”

Fu Zheng, with his hands in his trouser pockets, slowly turned around. The afternoon light slanted in from the side window, cutting his sharp features into light and shadow, making his expression seem even deeper and more unreadable.

“An apology,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion, “is meaningless unless it is expressed personally to the party involved.”

“Yes, yes…” Sweat beaded on Chen Jiannan’s forehead. Knowing he had truly poked a hornet’s nest, he quickly forced a smile. “How about this: in a few days, I’ll host a banquet at Huixian Pavilion. I will offer a formal apology in person then. What do you think…?”

“No need.” Fu Zheng cut him off cleanly, leaving no room for negotiation. “The apology—I will relay it on your behalf.”

With that, he didn’t linger. He turned and left, the hem of his crisp suit cutting a sharp arc in the air.

Chen Jiannan stood there, watching the tall figure disappear at the end of the corridor. The forced smile of cowardice and flattery slowly vanished. Deep in his eyes, the suppressed ruthlessness and malice surged back like a tide, even darker and more terrifying than before.

Cheng Huai was restless, tormented by the sticky yogurt stains on his body. He was naturally clean-obsessed; if his skin felt even slightly grimy, he wanted to wash immediately.

In the lounge of Fu Zheng’s office, there was a thoughtfully equipped small bathroom it even had a silent washing machine, clearly designed for long nights of overtime.

Cheng Huai looked down at the pure white paper bag on the carpet. New clothes… it should be fine, right?

He didn’t know how long Fu Zheng’s meeting would last. Those men from earlier looked difficult to deal with. Sitting here alone, he could do nothing but worry. It was better to do something to distract himself. He picked up the bag and jogged into the bathroom.

Before showering, Cheng Huai cautiously reached into the bag to feel the fabric. Thinking Fu Zheng might finish the meeting at any moment, he only gave it a rough feel. It seemed to be an elastic material; he should be able to wear it.

Relieved, Cheng Huai stripped off his yogurt-stained clothes and stuffed them all into the washing machine.

The layout of the bathroom was familiar and comforting. The shampoo and body wash were the same brands used at home; the towels were fluffy and clean, smelling of sunlight.

Water droplets rolled down the elegant curve of Cheng Huai’s back, lingering briefly in the dip of his waist before bouncing off his hips in small splashes.

After finishing his shower, he hummed a tuneless little melody in a great mood, wrapping himself in a towel and blow-drying his hair. Just as he was about to change, he discovered a familiar small bottle of essential oil in the storage cabinet it was the brand his brother used to apply to him when he was a child.

Cheng Huai’s eyes lit up as he happily poured some into his palm. He tried to mimic Fu Zheng’s technique, massaging the plant-scented oil into his skin. However, his movements were clumsy; sometimes the application was uneven, and sometimes he used too much. After some flustered effort, he finally managed to coat himself evenly.

The oil was slowly warmed by his body temperature and absorbed, a faint cold fragrance mixing with the lingering steam, quietly filling the small space.

Cheng Huai’s humming grew lighter. One hand held the slipping towel at his chest as he leaned down to reach for the paper bag.

Everything was normal. Until the moment he shook the garment out completely and held it up before his eyes.

The humming stopped abruptly.

It was… a dr-dress?

Was Assistant Xu’s “boyfriend”… a girl?

Shock hit him like a bucket of ice water. His fingers gripping the towel subconsciously loosened. The white towel slid down, piling onto the smooth tiles, revealing the youth’s jade-white skin without reservation.

Cheng Huai refused to give up. He grabbed the dress and turned to the mirror, holding it against himself. The fabric was elastic, but it was clearly a slim-cut size; he wasn’t even sure if he could squeeze into it.

Just by holding it up, he could imagine the “power” of this dress. If he actually wore it and Fu Zheng saw him, his fate would be a hundred times worse than the time he was caught trying on a JK uniform as a child. Back then, the skirt was at least conservative in style, only showing his legs.

But this one… a straight neckline, a large open back, a high waist—the cut was so tight it was like a second skin. It was bolder and more… dangerous than any dress he had ever had custom-made.

Cheng Huai wanted to call for help, only to realize he had left his phone outside. He was truly in a position where heaven didn’t answer and the earth didn’t respond.

He leaned his back against the cool bathroom door, holding his breath and listening to the movement outside. If I wrap the towel tightly, dash out to grab my phone, and then text Fu Zheng to go home and get a set of clothes… that plan doesn’t seem entirely impossible.

He evaluated the feasibility; currently, it was the best way.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled open the bathroom door, stepping barefoot onto the soft carpet and moving silently toward the outer office. Just as his hand touched the lounge door handle and turned it slightly, the main office door opened with a “click.”

Fu Zheng and Zhou Yuan walked in, followed by several faces Cheng Huai hadn’t seen before. They looked serious, walking straight to the sofa area and sitting down. Low voices of discussion immediately followed—clearly continuing an important work consultation.

Cheng Huai’s movements froze. He had to silently close the door gap. His last escape route was blocked.

He turned back resignedly to look at the dress tossed by the sink. Now, it was the only life-saving straw in this desperate situation. Though wearing it might be more embarrassing than not wearing it, it was better than stepping out half-naked in a towel.

At worst… he’d just get a scolding. His brother wouldn’t truly stay angry with him.

Cheng Huai tried to comfort himself with this thought, even managing a hint of reckless excitement. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if performing a solemn ritual, then steeled his heart and grabbed the light fabric.

The process of putting it on was harder than he imagined.

There was a tiny invisible zipper on the back of the dress, with the slit stopping at the waist-hip junction. However, while the fabric was elastic, a male frame was ultimately different from female design. Although his waist was slender, his hips were tightly caught. No matter how careful he was, the hem stubbornly stayed at the peak of his buttocks, refusing to drop an inch.

In desperation, he gritted his teeth and stripped off the very last piece of clothing he had on.

With one less layer of restraint and a bout of blushing, twisting, and struggling accompanied by the subtle sound of fabric rubbing against skin the dress was finally yanked down.

Barefoot, Cheng Huai took a tentative small step forward. His hips were wrapped exceptionally tight; the whole dress felt like a second skin stretched over his legs. The narrowed mermaid hem at the knees severely limited his stride. Every time he moved, he felt like the dress was about to burst.

When he finally shuffled to the mirror and mustered the courage to look up, he was struck by lightning, freezing in place.

The pink form-fitting long dress was practically transparent. The long-sleeve design only reached his upper arms, exposing his entire white shoulders and clear collarbone lines. The high-waist cut not only squeezed out a breathtaking waistline but also outlined his abdominal muscles and even the contour of his navel.

Furthermore, and more seriously, when he was putting the dress on, he had casually “adjusted” Little Huai’s position. Right now, Little Huai happened to be pointing straight up, completely unable to be hidden under the tight fabric.

Too… too shameful!

A wave of scalding heat rushed to his head. Cheng Huai slammed his hands over his eyes, barely daring to look again. He turned slightly to look at his back. The zipper on his waist was only half-zipped, the heart-shaped pull tab caught exactly in the small of his back.

Above the zipper was his entire smooth back; below the zipper was the rounded, perky curve tightly wrapped by the fabric, looking as if it might break free at any moment.

Cheng Huai resigned himself to fate, reaching his hand behind his back to try and pull the zipper up.

Fu Zheng was listening to a report and casually picked up his phone to text Cheng Huai asking where he was. Suddenly, a phone on the table in front of the sofa lit up.

Seeing the phone but not the person, Fu Zheng pursed his lips and scanned the room. Finally, his gaze landed on the lounge door. From the moment he stepped into the office, a faint, familiar scent had been lingering in the air the subtle aroma of the plant essential oil he always kept for Cheng Huai.

Fu Zheng narrowed his eyes slightly. His thoughts began to drift uncontrollably, no longer able to focus on the data and charts being presented.

Another five minutes passed. Just as Fu Zheng was about to interrupt, the colleague finished up: “President Fu, that’s the general situation. If there are no issues, we will proceed according to this plan.”

Fu Zheng’s eyes quickly scanned several key indicators in the document and he nodded in approval.

“Then, President Fu, we’ll head out and won’t disturb you.” Several subordinates left the office one after another.

Once the room was silent again, Fu Zheng stood up and walked to the coffee table, picking up the phone Cheng Huai had left behind. He paced slowly toward the lounge door. As expected, the closer he got, the stronger the fragrance became.

Fu Zheng felt his temples throb slightly. He reached out, his long fingers resting lightly on the cool door handle, turning it noiselessly.

When Fu Zheng entered, Cheng Huai was facing away from the door, struggling with the zipper on the dress. Whether it was a tricky design or the wrong size, the tiny metal zipper was stuck halfway—neither going up nor down.

Cheng Huai was covered in fine sweat from anxiety, his pale nape flushed pink, and his shoulder blades were slightly hunched from the effort. He was so focused that he didn’t even notice the door had opened or that someone was standing behind him.

“What are you doing?”

A cool voice fell into Cheng Huai’s ears.

Cheng Huai’s movements froze. He turned around mechanically, a deep crimson spreading rapidly across his face.

“Brother… I… the… the zipper is stuck…”

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