What Bad Intentions Could a Spoiled Little Brat Possibly have? - Chapter 7
“I’m Not Just Going to Kiss Him; I’m Going to Have His Children.”
The early autumn night brought a continuous, drizzling rain, its silken threads tapping awake the chill inherent in the September season.
That evening, just as Cheng Huai lay down in bed, a succession of messages from Fu Zheng arrived. He sent a location a specific window in one of the school cafeterias. Fearing Cheng Huai wouldn’t find it, Fu Zheng even included clear photos detailing which floor it was on and which way to turn.
Before Cheng Huai could reply, the phone vibrated again: “Eat here from now on. It’s all stuff you like.”
It was rare for Fu Zheng to type so many words, but Cheng Huai wasn’t buying it.
A Monday morning quarterback, Cheng Huai thought silently.
His difficulty with eating wasn’t a new issue; Fu Zheng knew it perfectly well. Doing this was a clear sign that he didn’t want to deal with him personally anymore, yet he was still putting on a show of concern.
At this thought, Cheng Huai felt a mix of anger and grievance. The scene of Fu Zheng forcibly hauling him out of the house that afternoon was still vivid in his mind. The sound of his fingers tapping the keyboard grew louder as he replied with an air of immense backbone: “Not going!”
“Brother, I hope you understand I’d rather starve to death than eat food made by anyone but you!”
Fu Zheng: “…”
Out of sight, out of mind.
Cheng Huai turned off his phone, slammed it face down on the bed, and forced himself to try and sleep. Before drifting off, he struggled with whether to take a melatonin pill; after all, military training started tomorrow, and insomnia would surely ruin his condition. However, he was too lazy to get up and hated taking medicine, so he eventually gave up on the idea.
He expected a long mental battle before falling asleep, but to his surprise, he lost consciousness just minutes after closing his eyes. When he opened them again, it was already dawn.
The previous night’s rain hadn’t brought coolness; instead, it seemed to catalyze the heat. Beijing University finally welcomed its annual freshman military training.
Cheng Huai got up and changed into his uniform the olive-green camouflage jacket and the buckled waist belt. Checking himself in the mirror, he found the uniform fit him exceptionally well. Aside from the custom clothes Fu Zheng had made for him, this was the only well-fitting garment he had ever worn. He couldn’t help but steal a few more glances at his reflection.
Before he left, Gu Siming stood behind him, clicking his tongue twice in a tease. “This is unfair, Cheng Huai.”
Cheng Huai turned around, pulling his military cap down to partially shade his overly beautiful face. “What’s unfair?”
“Why do we look like water buckets in these uniforms, but you look like you have a ‘printer paper’ waist?”
Meng Qi burst out laughing. “What ‘printer paper’ waist? It’s called an A4 waist.”
Leng Muyu passed by and offered a cold sneer. “Why else? Because he’s in better shape than you.”
Gu Siming threw a phantom punch at Leng Muyu’s back, his lips moving as if he were chewing him to pieces. Deciding not to lower himself to Leng Muyu’s level, Gu Siming tugged at Cheng Huai’s belt, sighing in admiration. “I don’t care about ABC waists; Cheng Huai’s waist is the number one ‘willow waist’ in my heart. Honestly, I’m starting to think those forum posts really were about you. Meng Qi, open up those threads from yesterday again.”
Meng Qi, now dressed, walked over and patted Gu Siming’s shoulder ruefully. “Too late, buddy. The posts have all been deleted.”
“Deleted? By whom?” Gu Siming hadn’t checked in a while and felt a pang of regret.
Meng Qi adjusted his belt. “Who knows? Some say the admin deleted them because the ‘atmosphere’ was bad. But the Computer Science forum is famous for not caring about atmosphere who would believe that? Someone went to the admin to confirm, and even he was baffled. He said he didn’t touch the forum, and when he checked the logs, the person who deleted them did it so cleanly they didn’t even leave a trace in the operation logs.”
“Cheng Huai,” Meng Qi struggled with his belt for a while before looking up for help. “Help me tie this.”
Cheng Huai remained silent, helping Meng Qi with the belt while quietly pricking up his ears.
“No technical traces left?” Gu Siming said in shock. “Then that’s a real powerhouse.”
“Exactly,” Meng Qi said, spreading his arms for Cheng Huai. “The CS forum is actually quite well-made. Only the admin has super-user permissions to delete logs, and there’s an alert system for log deletions. But the person who did it was a total ghost. It’s truly mind-boggling.”
“Hey.” Leng Muyu leaned against the doorframe, interrupting their analysis. “If we don’t leave now, we’re going to be late.”
“We’re coming, we’re coming!” Gu Siming snapped, irritated as soon as the other spoke.
Under the scorching sun, the playground was filled with freshmen in camouflage. From a distance, they looked like neatly trimmed haystacks though the distribution was uneven, like a messy mosaic.
Cheng Huai spotted Zhu Manni, the girl who had confessed to Fu Zheng. To his surprise, she was in his class and the same formation. They caught each other’s gaze and simultaneously looked away. Since she didn’t seem inclined to cause trouble, he wouldn’t initiate any either.
Cheng Huai felt a slight relief.
However, it didn’t take long before he felt something was wrong. Though the September sun wasn’t as fierce as July or August, standing under its poisonous glare for a long time was hard to endure. He had anticipated the intensity of military training, but in practice, he had overestimated his own physical strength.
His constitution had been weak since childhood, and Fu Zheng had raised him with extreme delicacy he would lie down if he could, and sit if he couldn’t lie down. When Fu Zheng was around, he spent most of his time nestled in the man’s arms, with everything he wanted to eat brought right to his lips. He had rarely experienced such high-intensity physical exertion.
After being baked by the sun for a while, Cheng Huai felt his legs go soft. Coupled with the fact that he had barely eaten breakfast only a few bites of bread to line his stomach his lips began to turn pale from weakness. He hadn’t even finished the military training mobilization meeting before he felt he could no longer stand.
The male student next to him noticed Cheng Huai’s poor complexion and tugged at his sleeve, whispering kindly, “Hey, are you feeling okay? Do you want to report to the instructor and take a rest?”
“No, thank you.” Cheng Huai turned and gave him a faint smile.
Their drill instructor was reportedly an active-duty soldier tall, brawny, and appearing even more imposing than Fu Zheng. He had a fierce expression and spoke with a menacing tone; Cheng Huai didn’t want to invite his wrath.
Ever since the student next to him had seen Cheng Huai’s face, his gaze had become incredibly fervent. In the short walk to the assembly area, he had struck up a conversation three times and even offered to be a “human pillow” for him. Cheng Huai looked at the other’s expectant eyes, and with a slight shift in his gaze, declined him with a polite, non-awkward excuse.
I have to last at least through the morning, Cheng Huai thought.
He was still holding a grudge against Fu Zheng. If he couldn’t even make it through half a day, where would his pride go? Though he never truly had any “pride” in front of Fu Zheng, this time was different.
Clinging to the thought of Fu Zheng and a stubborn will to win, Cheng Huai barely made it through the morning.
The moment the instructor shouted “Dismissed,” Cheng Huai collapsed onto his knees on the ground. His strength was entirely spent. Everything from his shoulders to his waist ached; his thighs and calves were cramping, and even the soles of his feet throbbed with a piercing pain.
Gu Siming also plopped down, clutching the arches of his feet and groaning.
Cheng Huai had never suffered like this. He almost couldn’t hold back the tears in front of all his classmates.
“Let’s go, let’s go eat. I’m starving,” Gu Siming said, using all his strength to try and pull Cheng Huai up.
Cheng Huai shook his head. “You guys go. I’ll rest for a bit and then head back to the dorm.”
He didn’t know if the food at the window Fu Zheng mentioned was any good, but he had zero appetite. After some thought, he decided to just go back and gnaw on some bread.
“You’re not eating?” Gu Siming asked. “With this intensity, you’re going to pass out sooner or later if you don’t eat.”
“I’ll eat in the dorm.”
“Alright then, we’ll head out first. Make sure you eat a lot your little frame…” Gu Siming nagged as he walked away.
Once the surrounding students had mostly dispersed, Cheng Huai sat in the empty playground for a while. Just as he pushed himself up to leave, his wrist was suddenly grabbed.
Cheng Huai reflexively jerked away. Looking up, he saw the student who had stood next to him during the meeting. He vaguely remembered the name from the introductions: Mo Qing.
“Cheng Huai, are you alright?” Mo Qing asked with concern. His palm was scalding hot, and his eyes lingered on Cheng Huai’s lips.
Feeling uncomfortable under the gaze, Cheng Huai pulled his hand away. “I’m fine,” he muttered, swaying as he walked toward the dorm, completely missing the increasingly obsessed look in Mo Qing’s eyes behind him.
Back in the dorm, Cheng Huai looked at the bread neatly arranged on his desk. It was cold and devoid of warmth, just like Fu Zheng’s cold face. Instantly, he lost the desire to eat it.
After resting a moment, he took a vial of glucose from his cabinet. He produced a thumb-thick syringe, drew the glucose into it, and skillfully injected it into the vein of his arm.
The cool liquid flowed through his vessels. This had been his go-to solution during the countless times in the past when he couldn’t eat; at least it would help him hold on. Cheng Huai didn’t expect much for himself nutrition didn’t matter. Fu Zheng cared about it, but he never did. He only needed to keep a breath of life in him.
Relying on that dose of glucose, Cheng Huai survived the afternoon.
For dinner, he went to the window Fu Zheng had specified. When the cafeteria lady saw him, she paused for a moment before telling him to wait. She then brought out a specially prepared meal from the back kitchen. Cheng Huai took it; it was indeed exactly his favorite flavors. He tried to eat a few bites, but his stomach began to churn. Before he could even finish, the taste rushing up his throat triggered him. He scrambled to the restroom and vomited everything he had just managed to swallow.
It still didn’t work.
Since seeing Fu Zheng again, his stress response had become even more intense. Even if the food suited his taste, if it didn’t come from Fu Zheng’s own hands, his body rejected it as if in protest. With no other choice, he injected another dose of glucose.
When Gu Siming returned to the dorm, he was laughing loudly. Suddenly, a few white objects flew through the air toward them. Meng Qi caught one and studied it for a long time without understanding what it was. When he finally unwrapped it, he dropped it like a hot coal, throwing it back at Gu Siming’s face. “Are you a freaking pervert?!”
Gu Siming stood there with a sanitary pad stuck to his face. “???”
“I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart! You guys don’t get it this is a secret tip I got from our class goddess. Stick this in your shoes, and your feet won’t hurt as much.”
Meng Qi cursed. “Screw that, I’m not using it. Real men don’t complain about pain.”
Gu Siming looked at Cheng Huai. Cheng Huai was too tired to move. The pad lay on his desk, still wrapped. He said, “I’m not using it.”
“Fine, fine. You guys can be stubborn. If you won’t use them, I will.” Gu Siming didn’t want to waste them after he’d begged for them, so he stuck them all into his own soles and climbed into bed, satisfied.
Military training was truly grueling. Marching, goose-stepping, running it was tedious and exhausting.
Cheng Huai gritted his teeth and persisted. Over the next two days, he went back to the cafeteria lady once more, but the reaction was even more violent. Before he even started eating, just seeing the dish made him cover his mouth and bolt for the restroom to dry heave right in front of her.
That afternoon, Cheng Huai felt for the first time what it was like to “walk on clouds.” He was light-headed, and every step felt airy and weightless. Gu Siming saw his complexion and urged him to take a sick leave, but Cheng Huai insisted on continuing, though he wasn’t sure who he was competing against.
During these days of training, Cheng Huai hadn’t contacted Fu Zheng. Fu Zheng had sent messages asking if he had changed his bandages on time, but Cheng Huai ignored them all. He didn’t know what was wrong with himself he was exhausted, hungry, and in pain. He missed Fu Zheng every day and desperately wanted to see him, yet when Fu Zheng messaged him, he just wanted to pick a fight and throw a tantrum. So, he chose to initiate this one-sided cold war.
During the afternoon break, Cheng Huai sat under the shade of a tree, his face deathly pale, fanning himself with a small folding fan.
Mo Qing appeared before him again, eyes filled with fervent concern as he handed over a bottle of water. “Cheng Huai, have some water.”
Cheng Huai felt his stomach churn again. Suppressing the nausea, he said, “Thanks, but I don’t drink ‘outside’ water.”
Rebuffed, Mo Qing stood by him for a while. Seeing that Cheng Huai had no intention of acknowledging him, he eventually walked away dejectedly.
As Cheng Huai sat with his head down, fanning himself, a shadow fell across him. Thinking it was Mo Qing again, he was about to look up to chase him away when he saw Zhu Manni standing there with her arms crossed.
The flies just won’t stop buzzing, he thought.
Cheng Huai glanced at her and returned to fanning himself, offering her utter silence.
Zhu Manni leaned against the tree beside him and suddenly let out a sneer. “Heh. I thought you were so capable, but it looks like you can’t even handle this.”
At the sound of her voice, Cheng Huai turned his head expressionlessly. Just a few days ago at the opening ceremony, she had smiled so sweetly at Fu Zheng, and even her tears looked innocent. Now, she looked petty and ugly.
Cheng Huai slowly raised his eyes, his emotions cold. He checked the surroundings and saw it was just the two of them. Only then did he look at her, his voice faint but dripping with provocation. “Are you talking to me?”
Zhu Manni had intended to mock him, but his lack of reaction made her anxious. Her face flushed, but she pressed on. “Cheng Huai, why did you kiss Senior? You’re both boys. Do you have any idea how much of a negative impact that has on him?!”
“Oh? Is that so?” Cheng Huai lifted his fan to block the stray sunlight filtering through the trees. He leaned back on one hand and looked up at the blue sky through the fan. “And what does that have to do with you?”
“It has everything to do with me!” Zhu Manni’s voice rose, attracting the attention of some nearby students.
Cheng Huai saw Gu Siming trying to come over, but Leng Muyu stopped him; the two were whispering about something.
Zhu Manni continued her tirade. “I like him! I won’t allow anyone to hurt him! I’m warning you—stay away from him from now on, or I’ll… I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” Cheng Huai suddenly laughed. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a man’s figure approaching.
The man was tall and upright, with deep, sharp facial features. He wore a black shirt and black trousers, the sleeves rolled up to reveal firm, powerful forearms. He possessed an indescribable masculine charisma. Just appearing on the outskirts of the field drew countless gazes; some students from the Computer Science department even recognized him, waving and shouting, “Senior Fu Zheng!”
Cheng Huai stood up, his weak body swaying as he walked toward Zhu Manni, pinning her against the tree. He grinned, his eyes fixed on the figure getting closer behind her. In a nearly manic, malicious whisper, he said:
“I’m not just going to kiss him. I’m going to sleep with him. And I’m going to have his children. Do you believe me?”
“You… you’re a pervert!!” Zhu Manni’s face turned bright red.
Cheng Huai calculated the time it would take for Fu Zheng to reach them.
Three.
Two.
One.
In the next moment, his world began to spin. He swayed and tumbled downward.
Like a soft feather, right under Zhu Manni’s shocked gaze, Cheng Huai collapsed and fainted on the spot.