What Bad Intentions Could a Spoiled Little Brat Possibly have? - Chapter 8

His legs were so weak he couldn’t even stand.

Instead of the expected pain of hitting the ground, Cheng Huai fell into a warm embrace, instantly enveloped by an intoxicating scent.

Cheng Huai half-opened his eyes and saw Fu Zheng’s superior jawline and high bridge of his nose. His nose prickled with emotion as he let out a soft “Ge,” his voice as sweet and tender as honey-soaked fudge.

“Mm,” Fu Zheng grunted in response. He hooked his arm under Cheng Huai’s knees and swept him up in a horizontal carry.

Gu Siming and Leng Muyu ran over together, followed by the instructor of their phalanx.

“Senior… Cheng Huai, he…?” Gu Siming had run too fast and stood there panting. Just as he reached out his hands to take Cheng Huai from Fu Zheng’s arms, he saw Fu Zheng walk straight past him.

Gu Siming scratched his head and turned around to hear Fu Zheng say to the instructor, “I’m taking him.”

“Yeah, the counselor’s already been notified. This kid is a bit too thin.”

Gu Siming was stunned. Looking at the instructor who was usually fierce and terrifying to them, he actually seemed… somewhat well-behaved in front of Fu Zheng?

“Thanks.” Fu Zheng nodded and carried Cheng Huai straight out of the stadium.

“Huh? What?” Bewildered, Gu Siming pointed at Fu Zheng and then at the instructor. His language system glitched for a moment before restarting: “Why did Senior take Cheng Huai away? Instructor, do you know him?”

“Little brat, don’t go poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” The instructor shouted toward the distance and dragged Gu Siming away. “Three more minutes to assemble! Anyone late runs 20 laps!”

Zhu Manni was still shaken, Cheng Huai’s vicious words still ringing in her ears. What she hadn’t expected even more was Fu Zheng’s sudden appearance and the fact that he had carried Cheng Huai away.

The whole process happened so quickly that she didn’t even have time to say a word to Fu Zheng before she was left watching his receding back.

Zhu Manni stared at the exceptionally intimate silhouette of the two, trembling with rage as she clenched her fists tightly.

“Manni, let’s go assemble.” Leng Muyu had been standing by Zhu Manni’s side since he arrived. Now, he naturally reached for her arm to lead her away.

A look of loathing flashed in Zhu Manni’s eyes, and she snapped her hand away. “Get lost, don’t touch me.”

Leng Muyu’s expression faltered momentarily, but he quickly adjusted and handed over a bottle of water. “Don’t be angry, Manni. I’ve already found a way to help you.”

“Really?” Zhu Manni hesitated for a second, took the opened water bottle, and took two sips. She asked with feigned indifference, “What way?”

Leng Muyu opened his palm. Resting there was a white medicine bottle.

Zhu Manni frowned and took the bottle. “What is this?”

After reading the label, her eyes widened as she looked at Leng Muyu.

Leng Muyu gave a sinister smile. “You just need to wait. When the time is ripe, everyone will know that Cheng Huai is nothing but a slut who can’t live without men. Do you think Senior will still bother with him then?”

Zhu Manni said impatiently, “How long do I have to wait?”

Leng Muyu brushed a strand of hair from Zhu Manni’s cheek and said, “Soon. Just wait for his episode.”

In the bathroom, the sound of flowing water was steady.

Cheng Huai had been stripped bare by Fu Zheng and was now lying naked in the bathtub, his pale body appearing indistinct through the hazy mist.

From his neck to his toes, he was enveloped in warm water, feeling as though a pair of gentle hands were stroking every inch of his skin.

Cheng Huai was exhausted. He had been asleep since Fu Zheng put him in the car. He only vaguely remembered smelling the scent of hospital disinfectant, but his eyelids were too heavy to lift. When he finally woke up, he was already in the tub.

Although much of it was feigned unconsciousness, his body had truly reached its limit. Even if Fu Zheng hadn’t caught him then, he likely wouldn’t have survived the afternoon.

Cheng Huai exhaled softly as the depression creeping up from his heart surged again.

Ever since starting university, he was either getting injured or competing with Fu Zheng’s admirers. He couldn’t eat well or sleep well; it was true suffering. But no matter how much he felt like dying when he was alone, the moment he saw Fu Zheng, his frayed nerves were instantly soothed and straightened out.

Cheng Huai lifted his hand the one Fu Zheng had wrapped in a messy fashion to prevent it from getting wet and poked it crossly, even giving it two punches.

Only after hitting it did he realize it was his own hand, and he hurriedly rubbed it.

Hearing Fu Zheng’s approaching footsteps, Cheng Huai immediately lowered his hand, closed his eyes, and went back to “playing dead.”

He heard a rustling sound by his ear. Not long after, he was hoisted out of the water by Fu Zheng and wrapped snugly in a bath towel from head to toe.

Fu Zheng placed him on the bed and tucked him into a quilt. He dried his hair first, then applied essential oils all over his body, massaging him meticulously. Once the massage was finished, he changed him into a nightrobe and held him in his arms, massaging his twitching calves and the soles of his feet. Throughout the process, he handled Cheng Huai like a delicate figurine.

Cheng Huai hummed comfortably, his body as soft as a lump of mud.

He loved fragrant things, a habit Fu Zheng had cultivated in him since childhood.

After every bath, Fu Zheng would apply various oils and lotions to his body, massaging them in slowly. It was this decade of patient care that had nurtured his skin into such a delicate state.

This body of his had grown up under Fu Zheng’s caresses; it belonged entirely to Fu Zheng.

They had been apart for four years, and he had missed him for four years every day a piercing pain, a misery worse than death.

Being massaged so comfortably, Cheng Huai burrowed deeper into Fu Zheng’s embrace, his two arms winding around Fu Zheng’s waist like lithe snakes.

Sensing Cheng Huai’s movement, Fu Zheng stopped massaging his calves. He leaned back against the bed and tilted his head up, his breath heavy. He patted the arms that were tightening around him. “Let go.”

Cheng Huai opened his eyes and blinked twice. The belated depression tangled in his heart again; he had actually been dizzied by this long-lost tenderness.

He released Fu Zheng’s waist and rolled over on the bed, his nightrobe flipping up to his waist with the movement.

Feeling a chill on his bottom, he looked down and realized Fu Zheng hadn’t put any underwear on him.

“Where are my clothes?” Cheng Huai sat up, lifting his eyes lazily to ask.

“Thrown away.” Fu Zheng stood up. His shirt was somewhat rumpled, and there were dark circles under his deep, dark eyes as if he hadn’t rested well. His voice was also raspy.

Fu Zheng pulled the quilt over those pale, round buttocks.

They were blindingly white.

“You’re sick.” Cheng Huai didn’t give him a kind look.

“Yeah, I’m sick.” Fu Zheng’s expression grew colder. He said icily, “Stay here until military training is over. You aren’t allowed to go anywhere. I’ll come back every day to cook for you.”

“What about you?” Cheng Huai asked.

Fu Zheng pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m busy.”

“Busy with what?”

Fu Zheng didn’t answer, standing silently by the bed, watching him.

Cheng Huai’s heart gradually grew cold. He longed to be with Fu Zheng every day, but not like this—endlessly waiting for Fu Zheng to return.

“What do you mean, ‘not allowed to go anywhere’?” Cheng Huai’s voice also sank.

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

“Then what about my military training?”

“I’ve already requested leave for you.”

“By what right!” Cheng Huai growled.

How was this any different from house arrest!

Before they had even exchanged a few words, Cheng Huai’s temper flared. He grabbed everything within reach and hurled it at Fu Zheng.

Pillows and quilts were all thrown at Fu Zheng. Cheng Huai acted like he was possessed, kneeling on the bed and grabbing objects from the bedside table the lamp, a photo frame throwing them all.

With a thud, a sharp-edged photo frame hit the floor. Fu Zheng let out a muffled groan from the impact, but his emotions remained steady. He watched Cheng Huai’s tantrum without changing his expression.

Not satisfied, Cheng Huai resorted to his fists, kicking and hitting Fu Zheng as he growled in a low voice: “By what right do you get to decide when I leave and when I stay!!”

But he was truly too weak. The strength of his punches was like that of a little lamb, doing zero damage to Fu Zheng. Instead, having survived on glucose for several days, he felt his vision go black after shouting. He collapsed onto the bed, trembling all over. His heart hammered so hard it felt like it would burst from his chest. Unable to catch his breath, he opened his mouth, gasping for air. His face was deathly pale, looking like a broken doll.

Fu Zheng’s face darkened even further at his words. “By what right?”

With a grim expression, Fu Zheng grabbed his arm and hiked up the nightrobe sleeve. Seeing the fresh needle marks amidst a sea of old scars, his heart twitched. “By the right that you are courting death.”

“Cheng Huai, are you playing with your life? If you really want to die, find a quiet place to do it alone. Don’t make others go crazy with you.” Fu Zheng let go of his arm. The force wasn’t great, but because Cheng Huai was so weak, he was tossed back onto the bed.

Fury burned in Fu Zheng’s chest, the vein in his forehead throbbing. The words he spoke had lost all warmth.

He had been busy beyond belief these past two days, getting only two hours of sleep yesterday. He hadn’t even eaten lunch today. When he found out Cheng Huai hadn’t been going to the dining hall and had vomited several times, he immediately halted his meeting, left a room full of people, and rushed over without stopping.

Besides being a third-year PhD student at Peking University, he had to clean up the mountain of mess left behind by the company after Fu Yunshang’s death.

Cheng Huai’s shoulders shook as he pulled his sleeve down. Knowing he was in the wrong, he didn’t dare talk back again.

“Hyperosmolar coma, cerebral edema, heart failure.” Fu Zheng’s face was iron-blue as he repeated the doctor’s warnings word for word. “The consequences of any of those intravenous injections are enough to kill you.”

“Cheng Huai, I don’t want to repeat what I’ve told you.” Leaving those words behind, Fu Zheng turned to leave.

Seeing Fu Zheng’s back, Cheng Huai’s defiance deflated. He lay on the bed, weak and limp, enduring the dizziness. With no outlet for his bottled-up frustration, he could only boss Fu Zheng around from behind: “I want braised prawns and celery and pork dumplings for dinner.”

It was unclear if Fu Zheng heard him, but the force with which he slammed the door was enough to make Cheng Huai’s eardrums vibrate.

“So mean.”

Cheng Huai stared at the needle marks and muttered a small complaint, pouting aggrievedly.

He glanced out the window; it was already dark. He lay there for a while until his head stopped spinning, then reached for his phone on the bedside table and started scrolling.

As soon as he opened WeChat, he was bombarded by 99+ messages from Gu Siming, along with one or two greetings from Meng Qi.

Scrolling down, Cheng Huai saw a group chat named “The Four Top Escorts of the CS Department” constantly popping up with messages.

Cheng Huai clicked in and saw only his three roommates were there. He replied with a few question marks and asked: Who is the head escort?

As soon as Cheng Huai replied, Gu Siming himself immediately popped out.

Gu Siming: Holy crap!! Cheng Huai, you’re finally alive!!

Before Cheng Huai could reply, Gu Siming called him, and he could hear him asking in the background, “Meng Qi, what did you say you wanted to ask Cheng Huai?”

Cheng Huai said “Hello,” and heard Meng Qi’s voice getting closer: “Cheng Huai, is your body okay?”

Cheng Huai said, “I’m fine, much better now.”

“That’s good. Rest well. Oh, by the way, a package arrived for you. I put it on your desk.” After saying that, Meng Qi stopped talking.

Gu Siming took the phone back and lowered his voice, asking, “Cheng Huai, there’s no one else here. Tell me secretly, what exactly is Senior Fu Zheng to you? I felt something was off the day of the opening ceremony. Turns out you two really do have an unusual relationship.”

Cheng Huai hadn’t planned on hiding his relationship with Fu Zheng anyway. He replied, “He’s my brother.”

“Your brother.” Gu Siming continued, “No wonder then. His face was so dark when he took you away today; even our instructor didn’t seem that scary compared to him. But which relative’s brother is he?”

Cheng Huai didn’t want to answer that and deliberately changed the subject: “What’s with this group name?”

Meng Qi’s voice came through the receiver: “Gu Siming insisted on it. Neither Leng Muyu nor I agreed; it makes our dorm sound like some shady organization.”

“How is it shady?” Gu Siming shouted, and Leng Muyu’s voice joined in too. They started bickering within moments.

Listening to their noisy squabbling, Cheng Huai’s mood unconsciously improved quite a bit.

After hanging up, he felt his stomach growling happily. His appetite, which had tortured him for so long, finally began to clear up. He wondered if Fu Zheng had finished cooking.

Cheng Huai lay on the bed and saw the group name had been changed again to “404 Not Found Club.” He rolled his eyes inwardly.

Staying here forever wasn’t an option, Cheng Huai calculated.

He didn’t have his usual medications with him, and it would be troublesome if he had an episode. Plus, Meng Qi mentioned his package had arrived. Regardless, he needed to find a time to return to school as soon as possible.

Cheng Huai played on his phone for a bit longer until he heard the familiar sound of footsteps outside. Fu Zheng walked in.

Having just had a spat, neither of them looked particularly pleasant. Fu Zheng didn’t hold it against him and walked straight to the bedside, intending to pick him up without a word.

Cheng Huai was still annoyed. Pouting, he dodged Fu Zheng’s reaching hand and scrambled to get off the bed himself.

As it turned out, not only was his body weak, but his legs were so soft he couldn’t even stand. The moment his feet touched the floor, he tumbled toward Fu Zheng.

With a thud, he fell right to his knees at Fu Zheng’s feet, and his already dizzy head bumped against Fu Zheng’s leg.

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