Chapter 38: Little Chef Ming Ying

Only the sizzling of oil remained in the kitchen.

Silas: “Ming.”

“…”

Ming Ying himself was stunned.

Damn, heaven and earth bear witness, he had only meant to bite this guy’s chin! Who knew he’d suddenly look up!

Seeing things were going south, Ming Ying hurriedly returned the phone, stepped back half a pace with both hands raised, and mouthed: “I didn’t do it on purpose! I swear!”

Silas set down the steak tongs and wiped his hands with the rag on the counter.

Seeing this, Ming Ying coughed. He was genuinely getting a little scared now.

“I, uh, I’ll go rework that diagram! Go rework it again!”

With that, Comrade Ming Ying didn’t dare stop his feet and bolted out of the kitchen.

He hid in the living room for three minutes. Only when he saw the man hadn’t come after him from the kitchen did he finally relax.

Half an hour later.

“Ming, come eat.”

No one answered.

Silas brought the dishes out, then went upstairs.

He knocked on the study door: “Come out and eat.”

Ming Ying dawdled. “…Oh.”

The steak was delicious. But while eating, Ming Ying felt guilty and didn’t dare look up at all.

“Ming, look up.”

Ming Ying: “…Can I not?”

The man across from him didn’t speak again.

So Ming Ying looked up.

This one glance was enough to almost break him. Under the warm yellow light, the great, esteemed Mr. Aston had a red mark on his neck, a sight that clearly told of no good deed done.

“…”

Damn. Ming Ying wanted to laugh.

But he had to hold it in.

Silas put down his cutlery and suddenly frowned: “Ming, shouldn’t that thesis outline be updated?”

“…”

What the hell?

He thought it, and said it. Ming Ying: “What…”

Silas stood up and walked over: “Are you full?”

Ming Ying instinctively gripped his knife and fork: “Not full!”

“You are full.”

“I’m not!”

“You are.”

“…”

And just like that, Ming Ying was hauled up, dragged to the bathroom, and stripped… of all his clothes.

Then, wearing only a half-apron, he washed the dishes in the kitchen under the personal supervision of Mr. Aston.

“Wash carefully.”

“I am being careful!”

“Raise your hands a little higher.”

“Why do I need to raise my hands to wash dishes?”

“Because I’m watching you wash them.”

“…”

Ming Ying’s figure was beautiful—tall and lean, with very defined, athletic muscle lines. Especially the curve from his narrow waist down, swaying with his every movement. It stirred a desire to ravish.

Ming Ying clicked his tongue. How could he not notice the gaze behind him?

While wiping a plate, he endured the visual assault from the old pervert next to him, his heart filled with unbearable shame. He thought to himself, I should have bitten harder earlier, bitten him to death!

…

After finally enduring the washing of several plates, Ming Ying thought, That’s enough, right! No need to watch anymore!

But just then, a phone on the counter rang. This time, it was Ming Ying’s own phone.

Ming Ying’s heart skipped a beat. Just as he expected, before he could reach for the phone, Silas pressed the answer button for him, walked over, and held it to his ear.

Ming Ying: “…”

“HI Ming!”

It was Bruce’s voice.

The next second, Ming Ying felt his ass being kneaded like a rag. He stiffened and managed to reply: “Good evening, Bruce…”

“Good evening, Ming! Thomas has a discussion group tomorrow. He asked me to remind you, don’t forget!”

Not only was his ass being kneaded hard, but his neck was also savagely bitten by a vampire.

Ming Ying braced himself against the counter: “Mm… okay, thank you.”

“Have a pleasant evening, goodbye.”

After hanging up, Ming Ying’s face was flushed. He touched his neck and turned back, exclaiming: “Damn, I didn’t bite that hard!”

Silas turned his head back around: “Wash the dishes carefully.”

“Then let go!”

Damn it, who the hell can focus on washing dishes while getting their ass groped!

…

And so, before bed that night, as Ming Ying showered, he looked at his neck in the bathroom mirror and silently cursed the old pervert hundreds of times.

He completely forgot that he himself was a little hooligan of comparable measure.

He came out of the bathroom wearing Aston’s bathrobe. It was a bit big, but cinching the waist belt made it wearable enough.

Better than having nothing to wear.

The moment Ming Ying came out, he saw the bed first, then glanced at the man sitting on the sofa with his back to the bed. An inexplicable sense of awkwardness rose in his heart.

Damn, Ming Ying thought he was utterly hopeless.

Logically, they had done everything they should and shouldn’t do. So why would lying in the same bed still feel awkward?

He hesitated, but as he walked closer, he saw Silas sitting on the sofa, reading a book!

Sensing the movement of someone approaching from behind, Silas turned his face sideways.

Ming Ying was a bit surprised. “You read before bed?”

Silas seemed puzzled by his surprise: “Is that strange?”

“…No.”

Ming Ying then frowned: “It just seems like something my parents’ generation would do—”

Halfway through, he locked eyes with Silas.

“…”

Comrade Ming Ying had made progress. Before, he would only realize his blunder after the words were out. This time, he realized it before he finished.

Under the man’s gaze, Comrade Ming Ying dryly finished his sentence: “—people all like to read.”

“Mm.” Silas nodded. “So, Ming, what’s your point?”

Ming Ying smiled: “My point is, the habit of reading is good. Must read.”

Reading it is, then. At least it was better than the grandparent generation who read newspapers.

Silas didn’t hold it against him and gave a light chuckle. Then, he glanced at the bathrobe on Ming Ying and asked, “The clothes fit?”

Ming Ying: “They’re okay.”

Silas put down the book and stood up. Ming Ying blinked. The man ruffled his hair: “Go to sleep first. I’m going to shower.”

“Oh.”

How could Ming Ying fall asleep?

As soon as Silas entered the bathroom and the sound of water started, Ming Ying burrowed under the covers—these covers were full of the old man’s scent.

So he crawled back out.

After ruffling his hair, Ming Ying grabbed his phone and wanted to play a couple of games.

But everything felt boring. Playing without paying attention meant the only outcome was dying, dying, dying. After three losses in a row, he threw his phone aside in frustration.

Just then, Silas came out. His bathrobe was untied, the chest slightly open, revealing the chest muscles underneath. Ming Ying saw this and cursed him as an old pervert.

The Old Pervert lifted the covers and got into bed.

The dip in the bed beside him made Ming Ying cough.

Silas glanced at him: “Sleep early. You have to get up early tomorrow.”

To go to that group meeting.

Ming Ying: “…”

I know! No need to remind me again!

So Ming Ying closed his eyes. The sound of paper pages turning filled his ears, and his mind couldn’t help but replay the day’s events over and over.

He couldn’t sleep.

Ming Ying opened his eyes: “Professor, will you go to school tomorrow?”

Silas: “I will.”

“What for?”

“To check on the lab’s progress.”

Ming Ying knew about this; it was something N University had been preparing recently.

“Oh. So, will you eat lunch at school?”

“Not sure yet.”

“Then will you—”

“Ming, sleep.”

Ming Ying shut his mouth and stayed still.

But a moment later, Ming Ying started fidgeting around beside him again.

Silas finally put down the book, looked down at him, and asked: “What is it?”

Ming Ying poked his head out, blinking, and said: “I also, I also want to read.”

Silas raised an eyebrow: “Are you sure?”

“…” Ming Ying sat up defiantly: “What’s with that look? Looking down on me?”

Half an hour later.

Ming Ying struggled to keep his eyelids open, a parade of ABC floating before his eyes…

He knew his English wasn’t bad, but how come he couldn’t understand a single word…

But Comrade Ming Ying wouldn’t blame himself. It had to be because this damn book wasn’t meant for humans to read.

It was meant for perverts.

Thump. Ming Ying’s head lolled to the side, and he fell asleep, so under the tutelage of this so-called great philosophical work.

In his sleep, Comrade Ming Ying came to a conclusion:

Don’t read philosophy books in an old man’s bed, or your life will be a complete failure.

…

The next day, Ming Ying was hauled out of bed by Silas.

Actually, Ming Ying could have stayed at Aston’s place for a few more days at first, but Thomas’s sudden ambush was nothing short of miserable.

When waking up, Ming Ying had a bad habit: he was grumpy.

The timing of this grumpiness also had its patterns. For example, if he woke up on his own, he’d just sit on the bed for ten minutes before snapping out of it and getting dressed. In that case, the grumpiness wouldn’t manifest. But if someone forced him up, then Ming Ying’s expression would definitely not be pleasant.

Even if that someone was the Board Member.

So right now, Ming Ying got up, dressed, brushed his teeth, and prepared to leave with a completely expressionless face.

Standing there, he looked at Silas as if he were sulking. The latter fastened his watch and glanced at him: “Ming, you haven’t eaten yet.”

Ming Ying: “Don’t want to.”

Silas frowned: “You’ll be hungry if you don’t eat.”

“Then I’ll starve.”

“…”

Ming Ying coughed: “Uh, I mean, I’m not hungry. Let’s go.”

Saying this, he turned and walked toward the door himself. But at the door, noticing the man hadn’t followed, he looked back.

Ming Ying: “Aren’t we going?”

Silas stood in place, offering a very kind reminder: “Ming, we can leave, if you think walking in your shoes like that is fine.”

??? What did that mean!

Ming Ying followed his gaze down. Damn, he had put his shoes on backwards!

Having never done something like this before, Ming Ying snapped fully awake immediately. He hurriedly bent down to change shoes and explained: “Uh, I was in too much of a hurry this morning.”

Silas smirked, walked over, and touched his face: “No rush.”

…

Probably every student heading to school feels the same, especially someone like Ming Ying, just coming out of a “gentle land,” with the sudden feeling of a beautiful dream shattered by reality.

All the way there, his brows were furrowed tightly, as if he were heading to a battlefield.

When they reached the school parking lot, Ming Ying said: “Thanks.”

He wanted to get out, but he pulled the car door handle and it wouldn’t budge.

He turned to look at the driver.

The driver looked back and said: “Ming, check for me.”

Check what?

Before Ming Ying could ask, he suddenly understood from Silas’s gesture of tilting his chin up.

He was asking him to check if that red mark on his neck was still there.

Ming Ying thought about how that red mark came to be, and then imagined Aston meeting various professors and school leaders like this. His face immediately reddened slightly.

“Uh.” He thought, Early in the morning, and this old pervert is already trying to seduce him.

Silas frowned: “Ming?”

Ming Ying had no choice but to glance quickly and deliberately said: “It’s gone. All gone now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Really.”

“Mm.”

Ming Ying opened the car door. Just as he was about to get out, he heard Silas say: “If I go down there and find it’s still there, Ming, think hard about what you want to eat tonight.”

Ming Ying immediately shut the car door and leaned over naturally: “The light was too dim just now. Let me look again.”

Silas curled his lips into a laugh.

Now, Ming Ying really looked closely: “It’s really gone now.”

“Mm.”

But Ming Ying didn’t move.

Silas raised an eyebrow: “What is it?”

Ming Ying looked at him and said: “But, well, I kind of wanted to leave another one.”

Damn, what was he saying! Had he already forgotten last night’s humiliation!

“Forget I said anything.”

“…”

Ming Ying made to shrink back, but the next second, he was dragged back to the driver’s seat, his head pushed down, and thoroughly bitten.

The word “bitten” was used because it indeed felt like being gnawed on.

A red mark was even left at the corner of Ming Ying’s mouth.

“Damn.” Ming Ying wiped his mouth: “What are you doing! Repaying kindness with malice!”

Silas smirked again.

The two got out of the car just like that.

Ming Ying was huffing with anger, rubbing his mouth as he said: “You can’t walk with me. My classmates will see!”

Silas nodded: “Mm, you go first.”

So the two of them left the parking lot one after the other, keeping a distance of about ten meters.

Actually, Ming Ying was just talking nonsense, mainly to vent. He never expected to actually run into a classmate.

“Ming!”

Ming Ying froze in his tracks.

He looked at the curly-haired white guy walking toward him not far ahead and his memory blanked for a moment.

But as the person drew closer, Ming Ying suddenly stopped and his eyes widened.

—Oh crap. It’s Luck…