What Bad Intentions Could a Spoiled Little Brat Possibly have? - Chapter 37.1

The Man You Like Loves How Slutty I Am

Cheng Huai thought he would do what he had done countless times before use tears, tantrums, and the most stubborn clinging to stay Fu Zheng’s hand and keep him from leaving.

But strangely, the expected surge of intense emotion did not erupt. Instead, an icy calm rapidly washed over his heart, freezing every impulse before it could explode.

A corner of his mind seemed to have foreseen this long ago. He knew Fu Zheng too well, just as Fu Zheng saw through everything about him.

Since his earliest memories, words like “arbitrary,” “restraint,” and “unwavering” were like innate brands deeply engraved in Fu Zheng’s blood and bone. Once Fu Zheng made a decision, it was as immovable as a mountain.

Fu Zheng doted on him and spoiled him, giving him nearly bottomless indulgence. Consequently, Cheng Huai had greedily and naturally taken it for granted that he wanted more; he wanted to monopolize all of Fu Zheng, wanting this man to belong to him completely, heart and soul.

Yet reality always used a nearly cruel and destructive method to slap him awake from this unrealistic fantasy, time and time again.

Wake up. Fu Zheng never was, and never will be, your possession.

At noon in Fu Zheng’s office, carrying a final shred of hope, he had uttered the words, “From now on, there is nothing between us.” He had stared deathly at Fu Zheng’s face, desperate to capture a single trace of hesitation, wavering, or even a fleeting moment of pity.

But Fu Zheng remained that picture of calm rationality. With a single, flat sentence “Don’t speak out of anger” he had effortlessly shattered all of Cheng Huai’s sharpest armor.

Absolute fucking hell.

With a cigarette dangling from his lips, Cheng Huai leaned against the cold wall of the dormitory balcony. Two lines of clear tears traced down his face.

Of all the people to fall for, why did it have to be my own brother?

The balcony window was halfway open. The evening breeze blew gently, bringing a hint of chill that extinguished the cherry of his cigarette. He gave a self-deprecating laugh, bit down on the filter in a vent of frustration, and shivered from the cold before pulling a lighter from his pocket to relight it.

Though the cigarette burn on his palm had healed, it left a small, pale yellow circular scar. Cheng Huai fought the urge to continue mutilating that mark.

However, the nerve that Fu Zheng had finally managed to soothe was beginning to fray again now that he realized he had drifted outside the boundaries of Fu Zheng’s control. This time, the rupture was more severe than ever before.

“Holy crap, it reeks of smoke. Cheng Huai, are you hiding out here burning firewood?”

Gu Siming suddenly pushed open the balcony door, waving a hand in front of his nose. Seeing the undried tear tracks on Cheng Huai’s face, he froze instantly.

“What’s going on? Who messed with you?” Gu Siming was a total “straight-as-an-arrow” guy who had been single since birth. Forget boys he rarely even saw girls cry. The six-foot-plus giant was suddenly at a complete loss.

Cheng Huai turned his face away, haphazardly rubbing his sleeve across his cheeks. He stood up, crushed the cigarette out, and said, “It’s nothing. Just getting to work.”

“What work?” Gu Siming asked, bewildered.

“Writing code. As long as it doesn’t kill me, I’ll keep writing.”

“What kind of nerve did someone hit…”

Gu Siming asked casually, but to his surprise, Cheng Huai actually turned his head and answered him seriously: “No nerve. Gu Siming, do ‘program monkeys’ make a lot of money?”

Gu Siming had never heard Cheng Huai call him by his full name before. He felt a sudden jolt, stunned for a moment before saying, “They make a ton. Especially the talented ones a million-dollar annual salary isn’t just a dream. But this gig eats up your youth. If you start grinding now, by the time you’re thirty, you’ll either have no hair or a broken body.”

As Gu Siming spoke, he carefully observed the profile of Cheng Huai’s face. Judging by his daily lifestyle and belongings, Cheng Huai’s family background was clearly affluent likely better than most of them.

Furthermore, he had a brother like Fu Zheng a man who was practically a legend to shield him from the storm. By any logic, he shouldn’t be someone associated with the word “broke.”

“Are you… short on cash?” Gu Siming asked cautiously after hesitating for a long time.

“I guess so,” Cheng Huai said, his lips twitching into a forced smile.

Compared to Fu Zheng, he was certainly lacking money, because he had never truly relied on himself to earn a single cent. He had no idea what the specific path toward independent survival or creating value even looked like.

At twenty-two, Fu Zheng had already broken free of all protection to command a business empire single-handedly.

He was nineteen this year. If given the same three years, could he manage to be like Fu Zheng… no, even just one-tenth as excellent?

The answer in his heart was an unknown.

“Hey! Why didn’t you say so earlier!” Gu Siming seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, thinking he had found the root of the problem. He immediately became enthusiastic. “I actually know plenty of ways to make money on-campus and off-campus part-time jobs, project outsourcing, technical competition prize money… If you need, I can pick out a few reliable ones and introduce you?”

“Sure. Thanks,” Cheng Huai replied absently.

After talking with Gu Siming, he took his laptop to the library and pulled two consecutive all-nighters, finally submitting his code to Lu Jia before the deadline.

For convenience over those two days, he hadn’t returned to Guange Academy. His heart resisted Fu Zheng’s departure, so he simply refused to even check the surveillance cameras as if by not going back, Fu Zheng’s words about moving out would be rendered void.

Uncle Wang still followed the previous arrangement, delivering three meals a day to the dining hall on time, but Cheng Huai would lose his appetite after just two bites.

Eventually, he stopped wanting to go to the dining hall altogether, gnawing on a few pieces of bread to pad his stomach when he felt hungry.

At night, insomnia began to set in. He tossed and turned, unable to sleep; whenever he closed his eyes, he saw Fu Zheng’s face, cold to the point of being heartless.

On the few nights he finally managed to drift off, he dreamed of Fu Zheng’s fingers making mischief on his body the sensation so vivid it didn’t feel like a dream at all.

Cheng Huai would often wake up drenched in sweat, his heart pounding like a drum, unable to settle for a long time. He would have no choice but to head to the bathroom to wash away the sticky heat.

In his daze, he felt like he had hallucinated his way back to the early days of the semester.

The other three comrades in the “404 Not Found” club clearly noticed the changes in Cheng Huai as well.

The most direct change was his style of dress.

Previously at school, despite his outstanding physique, Cheng Huai had never been one for ostentation. His style was conservative and simple, usually consisting of loose T-shirts or button-downs, though even then, he couldn’t hide that eye-catching face.

But now, his outfits grew bolder by the day. He would either show a sliver of his slender waist or leave his clearly defined shoulders bare. Those two mounds of his backside were no longer hidden away either, wrapped in form-fitting jeans that looked like they would ripple with soft, oily waves at the slightest touch a mere side profile was enough to stir endless fantasies.

Sure enough, within a couple of days, the post titled [Cheng Huai is so slutty] surged to the top of the hot topics on the forum again. Unlike the previous veiled discussions, this one called him out by name.

The final results of the laboratory assessment were also released. In addition to Cheng Huai, other freshmen like Zhu Manni and Mo Qing were also on the list for further observation, illustrating just how fierce the competition was.

After a full day of professional courses, the four of them were nearly exhausted, collapsing into their respective spots upon returning to the dorm.

As soon as Gu Siming heard the news, he immediately turned to Cheng Huai, his voice filled with genuine excitement: “Nice one, Huai-bao! You made it to the second round that fast? When is the observation?”

Cheng Huai was leaning against the cabinet changing clothes, not even looking up as he heard this: “Tomorrow morning.”

“Then you’re definitely going to pass!”

Before the words had finished landing, a clear, cold sneer came from the bed diagonally opposite. Leng Muyu took off his headphones, his tone chilly: “The second round of observation is a code review. If what you submitted in the first round was ‘watered down,’ it’s going to look incredibly ugly when the time comes.”

Gu Siming poked his head out and asked, “How ugly?”

Cheng Huai cut in first, his voice calm and clear: “Permanently blacklisted from the lab. You won’t be able to apply again for the rest of your time at this school.”

He turned to look at Leng Muyu, his lips curved in a phantom smile: “But you don’t need to trouble yourself with that. On the other hand, if some people can’t even pass the first round, maybe they should reflect on themselves first. Don’t you think?”

“You!” Leng Muyu was choked up, turning to glare at Cheng Huai.

“That actually makes a lot of sense…” Gu Siming nodded subconsciously before reacting, “Wait, I didn’t make it to the second round either! Isn’t your ‘strike zone’ a bit too wide?”

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