What Bad Intentions Could a Spoiled Little Brat Possibly have? - Chapter 32

“Take off the dress.”

Fu Zheng didn’t respond. He spread his palm, letting Cheng Huai hold his hand, then pulled out a few tissues and wiped them haphazardly over it.

“Satisfied?” Fu Zheng asked in a low voice, watching his clumsy movements.

“Satisfied,” Cheng Huai nodded slightly.

The delayed sense of shame gradually flooded his mind, and the scent filling the entire restroom rushed into his nostrils. He couldn’t help but lean back into Fu Zheng, burying his head in the crook of Fu Zheng’s neck like an ostrich.

A layer of sweat had broken out over his body, and as it began to dry, it felt slightly sticky against his skin.

Fu Zheng’s palm pressed against his waist, gripping him so tightly he could barely breathe. He struggled a little, trying to break free.

“What are you doing?” Fu Zheng’s voice was deep.

“It’s uncomfortable…”

Cheng Huai’s voice was hoarse. He glanced sideways at the mirror; the ink from that “landscape painting” had already begun to congeal. Fu Zheng kept his head lowered, his breath fluttering against Cheng Huai’s shoulder, but Cheng Huai couldn’t see his expression. He only instinctively felt that the other man seemed somewhat unhappy.

The shirt on Fu Zheng’s body was wrinkled beyond recognition.

Clearly, it was Cheng Huai who should be the mess, yet Fu Zheng didn’t look much better.

“Brother, I’m a little cold,” Cheng Huai shivered.

Fu Zheng’s hand moved to his shoulder; after the sweat had cooled, his skin felt like ice.

“Can you stand?” Fu Zheng asked.

“I can stand.” Cheng Huai braced his palms against the sink to steady himself.

If he couldn’t even stand, he would lose far too much face though, in front of Fu Zheng, he had long since lost any face he ever had.

Cheng Huai wrinkled his nose; he still didn’t quite believe he was that weak.

But he had clearly misjudged his own strength. The moment Fu Zheng let go, he nearly fell flat on his bottom. His arms propped against the sink trembled violently, and it took every ounce of his strength just to keep from collapsing.

Fu Zheng shot him a look, took a fresh bath towel from the storage cabinet, wrapped it around him, and half-carried him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Sit here first.”

The water temperature rose quickly, and before long, the tub was half full.

Fu Zheng hadn’t wiped his hand yet. Being so close, Cheng Huai could still smell the scent on him as his brother used his palm and fingers to test the water temperature in the tub.

Thinking of this, a strange sense of satisfaction rose in Cheng Huai’s heart.

“Take off the dress.” After setting the hot water, Fu Zheng gave his hand a quick rinse and came over to pull away the towel around Cheng Huai.

This time, he didn’t directly help him undress. Instead, he stood beside Cheng Huai and issued the command with a somber gaze.

“Oh.”

The dress had already been torn to shreds by Fu Zheng anyway. Since Cheng Huai was completely exhausted, it took him quite a bit of effort to get it off.

“Get in,” Fu Zheng gestured toward the tub with his chin.

Cheng Huai’s toe touched the water and immediately recoiled. “It’s a bit hot…”

Fu Zheng turned on the cold water to balance the temperature.

Cheng Huai obediently sat in the bathtub, lifted his eyes, and hesitated as if wanting to say something.

Fu Zheng asked, “What is it now?”

Cheng Huai said honestly, “It’s cold.”

Fu Zheng glanced at him. He didn’t know who had spoiled him to be this delicate, but he continued to adjust the temperature for him regardless.

Once the temperature was right, Fu Zheng placed a bath bomb on the surface of the water and said coldly, “Wash yourself.”

Fu Zheng turned to leave, but Cheng Huai was quick, grabbing Fu Zheng’s wrist.

Fu Zheng read his meaning instantly. He narrowed his eyes and refused without leaving any room for negotiation: “Cheng Huai, do you really take me for a tool?”

“I don’t,” Cheng Huai denied.

Fu Zheng coldly withdrew his hand and dropped a sentence: “Do it yourself.”

Cheng Huai knew Fu Zheng’s personality he meant what he said. The fact that he had helped just now was already an act of great mercy, so Cheng Huai didn’t have the nerve to beg him further.

Standing not far from Cheng Huai, Fu Zheng slowly pulled out his shirt. He unbuttoned it one by one, revealing a lean, strong chest and abdomen. He then took a fresh shirt from the wardrobe and changed, never looking at Cheng Huai again throughout the process.

“Wear my clothes in a moment. You don’t need to clean up after you’re done washing.”

Fu Zheng placed the clothes he had brought out by the side of the tub. He caught a glimpse of the dazzlingly white skin beneath the water’s surface, said nothing more, and left the restroom.

Back at his desk, Fu Zheng’s thoughts remained as tangled as a mess of hemp.

Even though he had washed the substance from his palm and fingers, the musky scent seemed to cling to his fingertips, refusing to dissipate.

He unconsciously rubbed his fingertips together; the memory composed of that texture and scent was haunting.

Things had evolved to this point, completely veering off the original track.

Every one of Cheng Huai’s earnest cravings was like a hammer striking the final, fraying string of his restraint.

He and Cheng Huai had to maintain a proper distance.

This distance allowed him to continue playing the role of a good brother, letting him use fraternal responsibility and care to convince himself that he was keeping Cheng Huai safe under his wing.

But once this distance was breached rashly and violently torn apart as it was today the one who would ultimately be consumed by the backlash wouldn’t just be him.

Cheng Huai would only fall deeper and be hurt more severely.

And he, Fu Zheng, had already tasted the bitter fruit of losing control.

The words of Cheng Jiahun and Chang Shu from years ago, a mixture of warning and threat, still turned into nightmares on certain silent nights, disturbing his mind for a long time.

He was the very abyss Cheng Huai should never approach. Although he knew that with a single beckon, Cheng Huai would jump in without hesitation, he couldn’t do that.

The thing he least wanted to see was Cheng Huai getting hurt because of him.

Even if Cheng Huai was willing, it wasn’t allowed.

Maintaining the status quo and guarding the boundary of brotherhood was the only safe choice for them.

When Cheng Huai came out, Fu Zheng was checking his emails.

In his work mode, Fu Zheng looked somewhat stern and cold. This was a side Cheng Huai hadn’t seen in nineteen years, yet this version of his brother was now appearing before him frequently.

the clothes were excessively oversized. The sleeves were so long they completely swallowed his fingers, and the pant legs were even longer, piling up limply on his smooth insteps. His wrists and ankles were hidden within the broad fabric.

Seeing Cheng Huai walk out, Fu Zheng stood up and turned off his computer.

When he got closer and saw the boy’s bare feet, Fu Zheng frowned imperceptibly. He grabbed a pair of clean socks, crouched down in front of Cheng Huai, and without a word, took hold of his ankle to put the socks on. Then, he took the shoes Cheng Huai had worn earlier and put them on him one by one.

After the afternoon’s tossing and turning, by the time everything was tidied up, evening had arrived.

The sky was growing cool. Before the peak evening rush, darkness began to spread.

Fu Zheng simply pushed aside his remaining work, thinking of taking the boy home to cook.

Cheng Huai had felt great earlier, but now that the thrill had passed, he felt a sudden pang of regret.

His original intention for having Fu Zheng bring him to the company was just to show his face. He hadn’t expected things to develop in such an unpredictable direction. To have “done it” in Fu Zheng’s office, with his brother holding him up and helping him by hand the thought made his face flush.

Recalling the excuse he had used when they arrived, Cheng Huai looked at Fu Zheng, who was still crouched before him, and spoke up first: “Brother, I haven’t eaten the pastries yet.”

Fu Zheng looked up at him and stood up. “They’re already packed and in the car. We’ll eat them at home.”

“Are we going home now?” Cheng Huai asked, following behind Fu Zheng.

“Yes,” Fu Zheng nodded, taking the car keys. “What do you want to eat tonight?”

Cheng Huai thought for a moment and said, “Brother, can we eat out tonight? I’ve been at school for so long and haven’t tried a single local Kyoto specialty!”

“Not even once? Then what were you eating before?”

Cheng Huai paused, remembering the time he accompanied Fu Zheng to Kyoto for the physics competition. He counted on his fingers it had been eight whole years.

“Brother, it’s been eight years. Do you still remember things from eight years ago?” He was too young back then to distinguish what was a specialty and what wasn’t. Moreover, he had spent all day in the teacher’s office doing homework and had no chance to go out and have fun with Fu Zheng.

But Fu Zheng remembered the things Cheng Huai didn’t.

Forget eight years—he remembered things from even sixteen years ago perfectly.

But Fu Zheng didn’t say that. He just looked at Cheng Huai quietly for a moment before saying, “Okay.”

“Really?! That’s awesome!!” Cheng Huai smiled jubilantly, muttering, “Then I want roast duck, and crawfish, and BBQ…”

Fu Zheng gave an “Mm,” rolled up Cheng Huai’s sleeves for him, and said, “Pick one.”

Cheng Huai looked at Fu Zheng in surprise. He had been fully prepared to act spoiled and pester him; he hadn’t expected his brother to agree so easily this time.

“Then I choose…” Cheng Huai happily extended a finger. Seeing Fu Zheng lean down to roll up his pant legs again, he obediently extended his foot. His finger pointed in the air as he chanted, “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe… Hey, it’s crawfish! Brother, let’s go eat crawfish!”

“Are you done?” Cheng Huai shook his leg.

“Done.” Fu Zheng stood up, took a face mask from a drawer by the sofa, and put it on Cheng Huai’s face. “Crawfish is fine. Tomorrow is the weekend; is there anywhere else you want to go?”

Cheng Huai tried to pull the mask off, but Fu Zheng put it back on.

“What for, Brother?” Cheng Huai was puzzled as to why he suddenly had to wear a mask.

Fu Zheng said, “No reason.” He just looked a bit too attractive.

Fu Zheng asked again, “Where do you want to go?”

As expected, Cheng Huai’s attention was instantly diverted. He stopped fussing about the mask and asked excitedly, “Can we go anywhere?”

Fu Zheng raised an eyebrow. “In principle, yes.”

True to form, Cheng Huai began rambling about places he wanted to visit. He was kept closely within Fu Zheng’s protective embrace, so he didn’t notice that the moment they stepped out of the CEO’s office, a pair of eyes locked onto his back.

That gaze was sinister and cunning, staring at the figure protected by Fu Zheng, hidden in the shadows of a surveillance blind spot.

They chatted all the way to the underground parking lot.

Cheng Huai talked to himself for a long time. Right until they were about to get into the car, Fu Zheng hadn’t refuted him.

He peeked at Fu Zheng’s expression and began to more boldly mention places he had never been but wanted to experience.

Fu Zheng opened the passenger door to let him in. Hearing words like “bar” and “nightclub” getting increasingly wild, his expression darkened inch by inch. He warned, “Cheng Huai.”

Cheng Huai was already fully prepared. He snapped his mouth shut and made a zipping motion over his lips, fearing Fu Zheng would regret it and refuse to take him out at all. He then obediently buckled his seatbelt, snatched the door from Fu Zheng’s hand to close it himself, and sat bolt upright in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead without moving.

Even after Fu Zheng got into the car, Cheng Huai couldn’t tell if his brother was actually angry or not.

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