What Bad Intentions Could a Spoiled Little Brat Possibly have? - Chapter 36.2

After finishing the meal, Cheng Huai didn’t wait for Fu Zheng to finish tidying up the dishes. He impatiently ran back behind the large office desk, reopened his laptop, and his fingers began to fly across the keyboard, starting to draft how to optimize and construct the more complex dataset.

Before long, the sound of steady footsteps came from in front of him.

Fu Zheng walked over. He didn’t sit back in his own seat but stopped at the opposite side of the office desk.

He leaned over slightly, both hands propped on the smooth tabletop, and just like that, across the monitor, he quietly gazed at Cheng Huai, who was buried in typing code.

Cheng Huai was focused on the code and architecture diagrams on the screen, only occasionally pulling himself away from his thoughts. He lifted his eyes and met Fu Zheng’s calm gaze; after a fleeting moment of eye contact, he quickly lowered his head again, his fingertips tapping even faster.

This scene suddenly took Cheng Huai back many years.

At that time, he had just started elementary school. Every day after being picked up by Fu Zheng and brought home, he wished he could turn into a little accessory, clinging to his brother every moment.

To him, doing homework was the most troublesome thing in the world, because it meant he had to temporarily detach his attention from Fu Zheng. Therefore, little Cheng Huai would always pout, his face full of displeasure.

Fu Zheng then came up with a way: he utilized all the fragmented time at school to race against the clock and complete his own schoolwork in advance.

Once he had picked up Cheng Huai and brought him home, and fed him dinner, he would sit with him at the desk.

Fu Zheng didn’t do anything else himself; he just stood quietly on the opposite side of the desk, eyes slightly downcast, his gaze fixed unblinkingly on Cheng Huai and the open workbook. Sometimes he would stand like that for an hour or two.

Cheng Huai was afraid he would get tired, yet he craved this silent companionship. Consequently, his speed in doing homework became faster and faster, and his accuracy miraculously became higher and higher.

It was from that time on that Cheng Huai dimly understood that his brother’s calm gaze was itself a massive force, capable of bringing him the deepest spiritual stability and comfort.

In this moment, Fu Zheng remained the same. He quietly watched Cheng Huai for a long time, his gaze deep, as if tracing his focused features.

Just as Cheng Huai was about to immerse himself in the world of code again, Fu Zheng spoke without any warning: “Cheng Huai, how about I move out to live for a period of time?”

The smile that had been spreading across Cheng Huai’s face froze. The fingers typing on the keyboard stopped instantly; his fingers hung in mid-air, not falling for a long time.

“…Go, go where to live?” He heard his own voice rise, somewhat dry, not sounding like it came from his own throat.

Fu Zheng’s gaze remained on his face, not shifting away. His tone was as usual, as if discussing today’s weather: “I still have an apartment near the company. It’s closer to the office, so the commute is more convenient.”

Cheng Huai’s face looked very calm one might even say excessively calm.

He blinked slowly, his long eyelashes casting small shadows under his eyes, appearing to be extremely slowly digesting and understanding the massive amount of information contained within these few simple sentences.

After a long while, Cheng Huai spoke again. His voice was very light, yet he threw out a string of questions. His speaking speed was neither fast nor slow, his logic clear to the point of being robotic: “Is Guange Academy inconvenient? Isn’t there a car? If you feel driving is a waste of time, you can have Uncle Wang go and pick you up every day. Also, if you move near the company, in the future… will you not go to school anymore? I remember you haven’t officially graduated yet; PhD students also need to attend classes and participate in research group work, right? If you do this… will the professor really not ask about it?”

Every question seemed rational, but in truth, they leaked the helplessness and panic spreading rapidly beneath that calm surface.

Cheng Huai’s eyes were frantic. There was a sentence at the tip of his tongue that he didn’t dare to ask.

He didn’t dare ask Fu Zheng: If you move away, what will I do?

“Cheng Huai.” Fu Zheng’s handsome brows locked together, interrupting the words he was about to say. He pressed his temples, trying his best to explain to Cheng Huai in a calm manner, “The company has a lot of things going on lately. The upcoming project cycle will be very long. I need to be more focused, and the energy consumed will far exceed before. Moving closer to the company is to improve efficiency; in the future, I might truly be unable to get away.”

Those eyes of Cheng Huai’s, which had been desperately trying to maintain composure, finally and uncontrollably erupted into violent waves.

Only, what rapidly gathered beneath those waves was not anger, but a broken dampness. Tears swirled in his eyes, stubbornly refusing to fall, yet they washed away that forced steadiness until it was teetering.

“Why?” he questioned, his voice not loud, but trembling.

Those words contained too much. Why move away suddenly? Why now? Why at the moment when he thought everything was slowly getting better?

Fu Zheng looked at him calmly, not giving him the answer he wanted.

In this single instant, all the lighthearted happiness accumulated over the past week due to his study progress and Fu Zheng’s companionship completely lost its weight. It fell straight down from a great height, shattering into pieces.

In a daze, Cheng Huai was dragged back to those cold days of arguing and bickering with Fu Zheng. Familiar panic washed over his heart like ice water, making his whole body turn cold.

He could no longer maintain that feigned composure. His voice lowered involuntarily, taking on a cautious testing: “Brother, is it because I’m too clingy and I’ve made you annoyed?”

His hands tightened unconsciously on the tabletop, his knuckles turning white from the force. He fruitlessly clawed at the smooth surface, yet he could grasp nothing, feeling only a sense of void and coldness.

“If you don’t like me clinging to you like this,” his voice grew smaller and smaller, every word seemingly squeezed out of his throat with difficulty, “I can change, I really can. I’ll learn to be a bit more well-behaved, to stay by myself, and not always pester you. But, don’t leave me, okay?”

He lifted his eyes, which were filled with watery mist, and gazed at Fu Zheng without blinking.

That look was filled with too many things: total reliance, the fear of being abandoned, and a plea and longing that were almost overflowing. Please don’t throw me away.

It shouldn’t be like this.

Fu Zheng’s heart was fiercely pierced by that look. The fingers pinching his temples exerted a bit of force.

His chest felt stifled and painful. This child, whom he had spent so much effort to nurture and teach since he was small he taught him principles, gave him protection it was because he wanted him to grow up proud and unrestrained, not to teach him how to lower his neck to anyone and show such a fragile, piteous appearance.

Even if that person was himself, it still wouldn’t do.

Yet he also had no way to convince himself; this cruel executioner could only be him.

Better a short pain than a long one; he had to draw a safe boundary for Cheng Huai.

However, in this moment, looking at Cheng Huai’s eyes instantly brimming with tears, Fu Zheng couldn’t help but begin to reflect: was he being too hasty? Should he have given him a longer buffer period instead of tearing this wound open so unexpectedly?

“Alright.”

Fu Zheng ultimately surrendered. He walked over and gently patted the youth’s back, which was trembling slightly from suppressed crying.

His voice softened, trying to dispel that panic: “Did you forget what I told you before? Brother will never think you are clingy.”

These words were like a switch; the string that Cheng Huai had been keeping taut suddenly loosened.

He turned around abruptly, and regardless of anything, reached out to hug Fu Zheng’s waist, burying his face deep into the other’s crisp suit fabric. Warm tears, mixed with a bit of disheveled dampness, instantly soaked a small patch.

Fu Zheng’s body stiffened almost imperceptibly, but he didn’t push him away, allowing him to vent his sudden surge of emotion.

“It’s just moving out to live temporarily, it doesn’t mean I’ll never see you again.” Fu Zheng’s voice came from above, trying his best to make the words sound ordinary. “I promise you, I’ll come back to see you regularly, make you good food, or pick you up to come over. We just won’t be living together; everything else will remain unchanged.”

In his arms, Cheng Huai shook his head forcefully. His voice came muffled, carrying heavy disbelief and grievance: “I don’t believe you.”

He wiped away his tears and lifted his head to look at Fu Zheng, his gaze stubborn to the point of obsession: “Does Brother still remember what I said?”

Cheng Huai stared intently at Fu Zheng and said: “If you leave this time, then from this day forward, we have no further entanglements.”

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