What Bad Intentions Could a Spoiled Little Brat Possibly have? - Chapter 43

“Brother, I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

“If you cannot step forward to handle this personally and immediately, all our previous efforts and investments will likely be for naught!”

Lin Yarou’s voice sounded somewhat urgent in the hollow parking lot. Although she struggled to maintain her composure, the sense of exigency between her words could not be hidden.

Fu Zheng’s lips moved slightly, the profile of his side face appearing exceptionally cold and hard in the night.

“I will handle it, but not now.”

“You understand the importance of this batch of core hardware better than I do! They are related to the key verification nodes for the Lingxi Phase III upgrade, and involve the first large-scale delivery to our European strategic partners! The questions the other side is raising now are very sharp, and there are likely other forces pushing behind the scenes. Only your personal status and prestige can ensure the effectiveness of the communication and minimize the risks!”

Lin Yarou took a half-step forward, her tone becoming even more determined, even carrying a hint of interrogation: “This isn’t just a matter for Yunhuan Technology; it also directly affects the future cooperation layout and credibility of Weijing. President Fu, our two families are partners tied to the same boat now. What exactly are you waiting for?”

Cheng Huai held his breath, using the shadows of the vehicles and pillars in the parking lot to cautiously draw closer.

He hid behind a tall SUV, positioned exactly in Fu Zheng’s blind spot. The closer he got, the more Lin Yarou’s clear and agitated words drilled into his ears without missing a single syllable.

Fu Zheng fell silent for a moment. Finally, his cold voice rang out: “One hour. Give me one hour, and I will definitely arrive at the scene.”

“…Fine.” Lin Yarou seemed to understand that this was the maximum concession he could make. She took a deep breath and compromised. “One hour from now, at the Customs Supervision Zone of the port. Be there or be square.”

The crisp sound of high heels tapping against the ground weakened rhythmically as she moved away, eventually vanishing toward the exit of the parking lot.

Cheng Huai knew that Lin Yarou had left.

However, he did not immediately emerge from his hiding place. He remained curled behind the vehicle, his gaze locked tightly onto Fu Zheng through the gaps between the cars.

Fu Zheng stood alone on the spot. He lowered his head, took a deep drag of the cigarette between his fingers, and then lifted his wrist to check the time on his watch face by the faint light of a distant streetlamp.

His brow was furrowed tight, as if he were calculating every minute and second.

Immediately, he finished the remaining half of the cigarette with a silence and force much faster than usual. Then, frowning, he fiercely crushed the spent cigarette butt, his movements carrying a trace of imperceptible irritability.

Fu Zheng maintained that posture for a while longer, surrounded by lingering smoke and heavy pressure. He turned to open the car door, took off his suit jacket, and tossed it casually into the back seat.

But even with the jacket off, the strong scent of tobacco on him still dominantly permeated the surrounding air.

Cheng Huai waited quietly for another two minutes before adjusting his breathing, striving to restore a calm expression to his face. He then pretended he had just walked out from the direction of the villa, stepping out from behind the car at an unhurried pace.

The smell of tobacco on Fu Zheng easily drifted into Cheng Huai’s nose.

“Brother, you’ve changed,” Cheng Huai stood behind Fu Zheng, accusing him.

Fu Zheng turned his head at the sound. Cheng Huai had come down earlier than expected. He opened the car door and asked, “How have I changed?”

Cheng Huai wrinkled the bridge of his nose and suddenly threw himself into Fu Zheng’s arms to sniff him. “You don’t let me smoke, but you’re smoking secretly yourself.”

“Mm, sorry.” It was an insincere apology. Fu Zheng clearly had no intention of lingering on the matter, nor was he giving Cheng Huai the chance to use it as a pretext.

He took the opportunity to gently push the person clinging to him away slightly, signaling him to get into the car without room for argument.

“Where do you want to go back to?” Fu Zheng asked.

“Guange Academy.” Cheng Huai looked at Fu Zheng quietly, looking as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

“If you have something to say, say it.”

Cheng Huai pursed his lips and made up a random excuse: “I… well, I didn’t eat enough…”

Fu Zheng glanced at him sideways without speaking, merely turning the steering wheel toward the road home.

Cheng Huai’s eyes flickered as he pleaded, “Brother hasn’t eaten either, right? Let’s go home and make something simple. It won’t take up too much of your time.”

“What do you want to eat?”

“Anything is fine. As long as Brother makes it, it’s okay!” Cheng Huai smiled, uncharacteristically well-behaved.

After returning home, Fu Zheng did not change his clothes. He rolled up his sleeves and walked straight to the kitchen.

Since no one had lived there for two weeks, the refrigerator was empty, with only a few lonely eggs lying in the corner.

Fu Zheng took out the eggs and found an unopened pack of dried noodles from the cupboard. He skillfully lit the fire, heated the pan, tossed the ingredients, fried the eggs, and boiled the noodles. His movements were fluid and rapid.

Cheng Huai sat at the dining table, resting his chin in his hands the whole time as he watched Fu Zheng busy himself back and forth.

Soon, Fu Zheng brought over the bowl of noodles. He had only made one bowl, clearly not intending to eat himself. He handed a pair of chopsticks to Cheng Huai.

Cheng Huai did not take them. He sat opposite Fu Zheng, lifted his eyelids, and looked straight at him with clear eyes. His tone was calm but persistent: “Eat with me.”

Fu Zheng glanced at his watch, as if calculating the little time he had left. But when his gaze met Cheng Huai’s face which lacked color yet remained exceptionally stubborn he pulled out the chair opposite and sat down. “Eat quickly.”

Cheng Huai swallowed the noodles in silence. He appeared to be eating, but in reality, he was constantly monitoring Fu Zheng’s movements.

Sure enough, before he could take more than a few bites, the phone Fu Zheng had placed on the edge of the table began to vibrate.

He glanced at the screen, picked up the phone, and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room, answering the call with his back to the dining area.

Fu Zheng’s voice as he spoke to the other party was very low. Cheng Huai strained his ears but could only catch a few blurred fragments of words.

However, judging by the slight tension in the lines of Fu Zheng’s shoulders, his occasional gesture of pressing his temple, and the heavy expression on his profile, the seriousness of the situation seemed much more troublesome than the few words he had overheard in the parking lot.

Cheng Huai’s fingers tightened slightly around his chopsticks.

But… Lin Yarou was also there.

He didn’t want Fu Zheng to go. He didn’t want Fu Zheng… to have contact with Lin Yarou.

The noodles in the bowl suddenly lost their flavor.

Fu Zheng had not finished the call yet. When he heard footsteps, he turned his head only to see Cheng Huai standing behind him, looking at him with an unfriendly gaze.

The two stared at each other silently across a few paces. The person on the other end of the line was still speaking urgently. Fu Zheng’s brow furrowed deeper and deeper. He quickly gave a few final instructions into the mouthpiece and pressed the end-call button.

Cheng Huai had already walked up to him.

Fu Zheng glanced at the nearly untouched noodles on the dining table and asked, “Why aren’t you eating anymore?”

Cheng Huai didn’t answer. He just tilted his face up slightly, looking at Fu Zheng without blinking.

He was wearing plain white today. The soft cotton fabric made his skin appear even fairer. He seemed to carry the faint, fresh scent of laundry detergent, which formed a sharp contrast with the lingering smell of tobacco around Fu Zheng.

“Brother,” Cheng Huai finally spoke, his voice very soft, “My heart feels bad.”

“Are you physically uncomfortable? Or did something happen during the meal just now?” Fu Zheng walked over, gently tilted Cheng Huai’s chin up, and inspected him carefully.

“In my heart.”

Fu Zheng remained silent. Cheng Huai allowed Fu Zheng to hold his chin, his eyes moist and filled with a misplaced sense of grievance as he looked directly into Fu Zheng’s eyes. “I saw Lin Yarou come to find you just now.”

“Mm,” Fu Zheng grunted in response and lowered his hand. “Weijing is an important investor and channel partner for those core components detained by customs. She came to communicate the situation.”

“Then are you going to go find her?”

Fu Zheng did not answer immediately. He stepped past Cheng Huai, walked back to the dining table, picked up the bowl containing more than half the leftover noodles, and commanded, “Come here and finish the noodles first.”

“Are you?” Cheng Huai pressed.

“Yes.” Fu Zheng turned around, still holding the bowl, his expression darkening. “I’m asking one last time: are you going to eat or not?”

“It hurts, I can’t eat.” Cheng Huai stared fixedly at Fu Zheng. He knew Fu Zheng disliked wasting food.

Sure enough, Fu Zheng stopped talking. He picked up the chopsticks Cheng Huai had used and, with a blank expression, silently and quickly finished the remaining noodles in the bowl.

He placed the empty bowl in the sink, turned to pick up the suit jacket draped over the back of the chair, and put it on while walking toward the door. “It’s late. You should rest early. If things take too long tonight, I won’t be coming back.”

“Why!” Cheng Huai suddenly raised his voice. He had fallen into a trap of his own making, stubbornly believing that Fu Zheng’s refusal to return was because of Lin Yarou. “You’d rather go find Lin Yarou than come back here to stay. Do you just not want me anymore?”

“Stop asking these baseless questions,” Fu Zheng reminded him.

“Baseless?” Cheng Huai’s eyes instantly turned a deep red. “You want to move out, you want to avoid me isn’t that just telling me you don’t want to see me? Brother, what exactly did I do wrong? Is it because I’m always clinging to you and it makes you feel annoyed? Or is it because I care about you too much and can’t leave you, and now you’re finally tired of it?”

“Cheng Huai,” Fu Zheng warned in a low voice, “Don’t pin these groundless accusations on me.”

“You clearly care about me too!” Cheng Huai was practically shouting. “Then why are you avoiding me? Why are you pretending not to see my feelings? Don’t you know that you going to see Lin Yarou like this makes me sad and heartbroken? Or do you actually know, but you just don’t care at all!”

Fu Zheng closed his eyes, seemingly trying his best to suppress his churning emotions. He no longer attempted to explain or soothe. He walked straight toward the door, only wanting to temporarily escape this scene that was about to spiral out of control.

Just as he passed the sofa, Cheng Huai suddenly rushed over from behind. He moved extremely fast, carrying a reckless, desperate force.

Fu Zheng was caught off guard. He only felt his arm being gripped by a massive force, and in the next moment, he lost his balance. He was shoved heavily onto the wide sofa by Cheng Huai using all his strength.

The dull thud of the impact was exceptionally clear in the silent living room. The expensive leather sofa sank deep, absorbing most of the shock.

Fu Zheng was trapped against the cushions, a few strands of hair falling over his forehead. His brow was tightly knit from shock and instinctive reaction. He opened his mouth to reprimand him, but all the unspoken words were completely blocked back into his throat in the next second.

Cheng Huai gave him no chance to react or get up. He grabbed Fu Zheng’s shoulders and straddled his thighs, using his own body weight to pin him firmly beneath him.

Fu Zheng’s whole body stiffened. His Adam’s apple bobbed violently, and all sound evaporated instantly.

They were too close.

So close that the clean, warm aura from Cheng Huai’s body washed over him like a tide, dispelling and covering the tobacco scent that had not yet dissipated from him.

As night fell, the dim, yellow light overflowed weakly in the living room, barely outlining the two closely intertwined silhouettes.

Cheng Huai was panting slightly. He cupped Fu Zheng’s face in his hands. The heat in his clear eyes was as scalding and thick as lava, making no attempt to hide the intense love and gloom in the depths of his gaze.

“Brother, I love you. You know that, don’t you?” Cheng Huai lowered his head and kissed Fu Zheng.

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