What Bad Intentions Could a Spoiled Little Brat Possibly have? - Chapter 9

“So clingy.”

Cheng Huai was speechless; his face flushed a deep crimson instantly. He knelt at Fu Zheng’s legs, at a loss, momentarily forgetting how he should even react.

Fu Zheng didn’t move, his voice cold and clinical as he said, “There’s no need for such a grand gesture.”

Hearing this, Cheng Huai lifted his weak, pale face. Coupled with the inadvertently innocent look in his eyes, he looked pitiful no matter how one viewed him.

Fu Zheng silently bent down, picked him up, and placed him on the bed. He grabbed socks and slippers to put on him, then lifted the boy into his arms once more.

Cheng Huai’s face was rosy, and he no longer struggled.

Lying in the curve of Fu Zheng’s arms was a wish Cheng Huai had wanted to fulfill day and night. Now that the wish had come true, he inhaled the scent of Fu Zheng’s body and breathed in his aura. Even if he was still throwing a tantrum, his physical dependence made it impossible to push Fu Zheng away again.

Fu Zheng’s embrace was too warm; Cheng Huai was so greedy for it that when he was finally placed by the dining table, he let out an unconscious hum and instinctively tightened his arms around Fu Zheng’s neck.

The table was covered with his favorite dishes.

Fu Zheng cooked quickly. In that short amount of time, besides making the braised prawns and dumplings, he had also prepared the three-delicacy braised rice and tea-fragrant ribs Cheng Huai loved, using the extra ribs to make a corn and pork rib soup.

Cheng Huai’s stomach was protesting; a long-lost sense of hunger swept through his nerves.

He licked his lips, tightening his hold around Fu Zheng’s neck slightly. His voice was soft and coquettish: “Ge, can you feed me? I don’t have any strength; I can’t even lift my arms.”

Fearing Fu Zheng wouldn’t agree, he recounted the hardships of the past few days with red-rimmed eyes.

Hooked by the neck, Fu Zheng was forced to lean down, supporting himself with his hands on the dining table and the back of the chair, forced into eye contact.

Watching Cheng Huai’s full, rosy lips part and close, Fu Zheng felt a surge of inexplicable irritability. His expression gradually cooled: “Cheng Huai, why didn’t I realize before that you were this clingy?”

Cheng Huai remained silent, but he refused to let go.

After a long moment, Fu Zheng conceded. He looked down at him: “If you want me to feed you, sit properly.”

Cheng Huai pouted, “Can’t you just hold me?”

Fu Zheng didn’t speak; he merely lifted his eyelids and gave him a faint, level look.

Cheng Huai shut his mouth immediately. His hands abruptly released Fu Zheng’s neck, and he sheepishly withdrew them, shuffling around to turn and face the table, his eyes watching Fu Zheng expectantly.

Fu Zheng pulled over a stool to sit beside him, picked up the chopsticks, and began to feed him.

As he ate, Cheng Huai began to lose himself in the moment. He kicked off his slippers and slid his feet between Fu Zheng’s legs, finding a comfortable position. He took small bites of the food brought to his lips, occasionally letting out satisfied hums from his nose—like a grumpy kitten finally exposing its belly to be pampered by its master.

“Ge, I want a rib.”

The rib arrived at his lips as requested. The juices exploded in his mouth, filled with the aroma of tea.

Cheng Huai gnawed the meat off, holding the bone in his mouth, leaning forward to spit it onto the table.

As he moved, his feet resting between Fu Zheng’s legs began to rub restlessly.

“Don’t move around,” Fu Zheng said deeply, pressing down on the boy’s feet. He set down the chopsticks and held his hand out, palm up, in front of Cheng Huai for him to spit into.

Cheng Huai complied obediently. The tip of his tender red tongue lightly licked Fu Zheng’s palm a ticklish sensation, like being lightly scratched.

Fu Zheng looked down at him. Cheng Huai chewed his food carefully, his cheeks puffing out slightly.

Once he had eaten, Cheng Huai regained some energy and started acting up again.

His feet between Fu Zheng’s legs grew restless, sliding from Fu Zheng’s thighs all the way down to his calves, his toes kneading the inner side of the calf back and forth.

Every time Fu Zheng fed him a couple of bites, Cheng Huai would nudge Fu Zheng’s arm when the chopsticks returned, insisting that Fu Zheng take a bite as well.

It was a rare moment of warmth since the two had reunited.

Satiated and content, Cheng Huai looked up at the dark circles under Fu Zheng’s eyes. He reached out a finger to touch them gently and asked, “Ge, didn’t you sleep well?”

“Mm,” Fu Zheng grunted, finishing the half-bowl of soup Cheng Huai had left. “I’ve been busy these past few days.”

“Then… will me staying here affect you?” Cheng Huai caught Fu Zheng’s free hand and started fiddling with his fingers.

“It won’t.” Fu Zheng set the bowl down and withdrew his hand. “What do you want to do?”

Cheng Huai pursed his lips, his toes hooking around Fu Zheng’s calf in a bid to be endearing. “I don’t want to do much, I just want to go back to school to get some things. You threw away my underwear; I can’t exactly walk around your house with a bare butt every day.”

In truth, walking around Fu Zheng’s house like that wasn’t shameful to Cheng Huai at all. He had long since been “candid” with Fu Zheng, and there were no secrets between them after all these years. However, he didn’t have his medicine on him, and he was worried about his condition.

Currently, just a wet dream was enough to soak his underwear. If he truly went into heat in front of Fu Zheng one day, his most wanton and unsightly state would be exposed.

Though he never hid his desire for Fu Zheng, that was entirely different from letting Fu Zheng see him in a state of pathetic debauchery.

Becoming a slave to desire was a primal choice his body made out of extreme dependence on Fu Zheng, but what he wanted was more than that.

What he ultimately wanted was Fu Zheng’s love.

Not just the love of an older brother, but the love of a partner, a lover.

He wanted Fu Zheng’s eyes to only ever look at him, his heart to only think of him, and those beautiful, deep eyes to only ever shed tears for him.

From body to soul, Fu Zheng had to belong to him alone.

Fu Zheng coughed lightly and remained silent for a moment. After a while, he said, “Your clothes are drying on the balcony; go get them yourself. I’ll take you to school to get your things tomorrow morning.”

“Eating more?” Fu Zheng pointed to the food on the table.

Having received the answer he wanted, Cheng Huai shook his head and let out a yawn so deep he almost drooled.

Fu Zheng carried him back to the room, placed him on the bed, removed his socks, and tucked him under the covers. He then cleaned up the mess Cheng Huai had made earlier. “Stay awake for half an hour before sleeping. I’m going back to the office to handle some things; I might be back late today.”

Cheng Huai nodded. He vaguely guessed that something had gone wrong with Uncle Fu’s company, but he didn’t ask.

Fatigue was evident on Fu Zheng’s face, yet he had gone out of his way to massage him and coax him into eating. Cheng Huai didn’t want to cause him any more trouble.

After Fu Zheng left, Cheng Huai wandered around the house. He ran to the balcony, blushing as he snatched his underwear and put it on. Finally, he stopped at the door to Fu Zheng’s bedroom. On a whim, he turned the handle.

He crept inside and opened Fu Zheng’s wardrobe. It was filled with black shirts, suits, windbreakers, and coats—nothing but black.

Fu Zheng loved black.

The decorations, the ornaments, even the sheets and duvet covers were all pure black.

Cheng Huai brushed his hand over the clothes in the wardrobe, picked out a shirt, and pressed it to his nose to catch the scent. Then, he swapped his pajamas for the shirt and lay down on Fu Zheng’s bed with a satisfied sigh.

He rolled around on the bed, burying his face in the pillows and blankets, soaking in the lingering scent. The cologne mixed with a faint smell of laundry detergent, and the room carried the bergamot scent of scented stones just like the man himself: calm and crisp.

Cheng Huai sighed comfortably, and smelling the scent that fascinated him, he fell into a deep sleep.

2:00 AM.

Fu Zheng returned home, his exhaustion hard to hide. He unbuttoned his shirt as he walked toward the bedroom. Just as he was about to take it off, he heard the sound of light breathing from the room.

He turned toward the bed and saw the youth who had appeared there at some unknown time.

Cheng Huai was a messy sleeper. He was sprawled out across the bed, the black shirt hanging loosely on his frame. His legs had kicked out from under the duvet, revealing symmetrical, slender ankles.

The skin beneath the black shirt glowed white, creating a powerful visual contrast against the pure black bedding.

Fu Zheng walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, his palm brushing against a pale ankle.

Suddenly, Cheng Huai let out a low moan. Dreaming of something unknown, he furrowed his brows and bit the back of his hand. Then, as if on the brink of death, he gasped for air, his whole body trembling including the ankle in Fu Zheng’s palm.

Fu Zheng looked away, pulling the duvet over Cheng Huai to cover him tightly.

The phone on the desk suddenly vibrated.

Fu Zheng checked the time, confirming it was 2:00 AM before opening the chat.

Yu Chuan: “I suddenly remembered something.”

Fu Zheng: “?”

Yu Chuan: “Holy crap, you’re alive? Replying instantly at this hour?”

Fu Zheng: “Do you even know what time it is?”

Yu Chuan called him. Fu Zheng raised an eyebrow, stood up, and walked to the balcony. He closed the sliding door to ensure he wouldn’t wake the boy before answering.

A suggestive “Hello?” came through the receiver, dripping with the satisfaction of someone who had just been “fed.” Yu Chuan never kept his affairs a secret from Fu Zheng.

Yu Chuan feigned surprise: “How come you’re not asleep yet?”

Fu Zheng said, “Aren’t you awake too?”

Yu Chuan giggled twice. “That old beast has been tossing me around until now. It’s annoying.”

Fu Zheng had no interest in his private life. He lit a cigarette. Opening the window halfway, the night breeze hit his face, dispersing the smoke. His voice sounded even colder in the wind: “What is it?”

Yu Chuan chuckled. “Nothing much. I went back to the Huo family with Huo Ting-shen today. I heard from Huo Yan that your pretty little friend fainted. If you don’t mind, I can provide free regular check-ups for him.”

Fu Zheng sat in the rattan chair on the balcony, exhaling a cloud of smoke. He looked back into the room. His vision was partially obscured by the swirling smoke, seeing only Cheng Huai’s tensed, trembling legs and his back arched like a shrimp. The smoke hid Fu Zheng’s expression. “Are you really that kind-hearted?”

“Of course. It’s not every day I find someone who shares my ‘ailment.’ Naturally, I’ll help if I can.”

“Shares your ailment?” Fu Zheng snorted coldly. “We’ll see.”

“Oh, don’t be so cold…” Before Yu Chuan could finish, a deep male voice sounded on the other end. It seemed the phone had been snatched away. After some rustling, the receiver was filled with Yu Chuan’s intermittent cries and moans. His voice drifted further away as he wailed and gasped, “Daddy, don’t… don’t tear my pajamas.”

Fu Zheng moved the phone away from his ear. A “beep-beep-beep” followed as the call was disconnected.

He sat in silence until he finished the cigarette, waiting for the smell of smoke to dissipate before returning to the bedroom.

Cheng Huai lay in the middle of the bed with a flushed face. His shoulders were bunched up, and his fingers were tucked into his mouth as he bit them. The legs that had just been tucked in were kicking out again.

Fu Zheng stood by the bed, watching silently. The lewd sounds from the phone call still echoed in his ears. Looking at the sleeping face on the bed, the boiling fire in his gut slowly surged through his entire body.

Fu Zheng watched his own rising desire with a cold, detached eye. He closed his eyes, cursed under his breath, and quickly grabbed his bathrobe to head to the bathroom for a cold shower.

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