Chapter 67: Provocation Part 3

“I never agreed to fair competition.” Fu Si Heng’s voice was indifferent as he looked down at his phone, thumb tapping the screen casually while answering Fu Zheng: “Once you have the 200,000, I’ll let you go free.”

“By the way, I sent you the hospital bill via WeChat. Remember to pay up.”

Fu Zheng: “…”

Fu Zheng selectively ignored him, saying only what he wanted: “You’d better stay away from Tao Zhi for a while. Don’t think I don’t know—you’ve been shamelessly following him around school every day—”

“?”

“Wait, wait.” Tao Zhi, overhearing the brothers’ exchange, looked up hurriedly.

Right, there was that too. He’d almost forgotten to tell Fu Zheng.

Tao Zhi said: “Fu Zheng, you don’t need to earn—”

Just as the words reached his lips, his pocket phone suddenly dinged, interrupting what he was about to say.

…Huh?

Tao Zhi checked the message first.

Lighting up the screen, it showed [Message from Fu Si Heng].

Tao Zhi looked up blankly.

Even sitting right next to him… he sent a WeChat message?

Tao Zhi unlocked it in a daze and opened WeChat.

Fu Si Heng: [Don’t tell Fu Zheng about paying back the money yet. I’ll explain the reason later. It’s for Fu Zheng’s own good. Don’t overthink it.]

Ah.

Tao Zhi looked down then up, eyes full of puzzled confusion.

But he chose to trust Fu Si Heng and typed: [Okay.]

“What?”

Why was Tao Zhi looking at Fu Si Heng? It irked him.

Fu Zheng frowned and interrupted them.

“Nothing.” Tao Zhi said: “Want some snacks?”

VIP ward service was great—the bedside had not just water, fresh flowers, and fruit, but snacks too.

Tao Zhi picked up a piece of chocolate and asked Fu Zheng: “This one’s delicious.”

Fu Zheng: “?”

What the hell.

So weird.

Fu Si Heng lowered his gaze and chuckled softly.

Good boy.

“Tao Zhi.” Fu Zheng felt his topic change was too forced.

Was this little fool Tao Zhi trying to play mind games with him now?

Fu Zheng was about to speak up.

Two knocks at the door interrupted them again.

Fu Zheng: “.”

“Sorry.” The door opened from outside, and a nurse came in with clean, tidy bedding and pillows.

All three looked over.

“Mr. Fu, shall I put the bedding on the sofa?” The ward had only one accompanying bed, and with both Tao Zhi and Fu Si Heng staying, one would have to sleep on the sofa.

Tao Zhi wanted to take the sofa; he wasn’t as tall and broad as Fu Si Heng—the sofa wouldn’t be too small for him.

If Fu Si Heng slept there, it wouldn’t fit well.

His hands and feet probably wouldn’t stretch out straight.

Sigh, there were empty rooms next door, after all.

But Fu Si Heng refused to go.

Tao Zhi tried to get up to go to the living area, but Fu Zheng pulled him back down with one hand, seating him on the chair again.

“Let him sleep on the sofa.” Fu Zheng said.

Tao Zhi disagreed: “The sofa’s a bit small for him.”

“Who cares about him.” Fu Zheng didn’t give a damn.

But Tao Zhi did.

He still tried to stand, but seeing he couldn’t keep him, Fu Zheng suddenly came up with a desperate idea and hissed, putting on a pained expression: “Ow, my arm hurts so much. Ah, why’s it suddenly hurting like this?”

“Huh?” Tao Zhi had reached the door but stopped at the sound, turning back and rushing to the bedside anxiously: “Why’d it suddenly start hurting? Is it bad?”

Fu Zheng: “Dunno, maybe bumped it somewhere.”

Damn, he hadn’t expected this trick to actually work.

Before leaving, the doctor had whispered to Fu Zheng: “Second Young Master, showing appropriate weakness can stir pity in others. Seize the opportunity well; don’t be dumb again.”

Fu Zheng hadn’t believed it at first, but now he had no choice.

He developed a newfound respect for the doctor.

“Where’d you bump it?” Tao Zhi was quite worried: “Should we call the doctor to check?”

“No need, you staying is enough.” Fu Zheng said.

Tao Zhi: “?”

That sounded off.

But Fu Zheng’s personality didn’t seem like the lying type, especially about this…

No.

Wrong.

It wasn’t that he didn’t lie; Fu Zheng was the dead proud, face-saving type.

He wouldn’t deliberately lie and show his vulnerable side.

Tao Zhi half-believed it.

“Ah, my leg hurts too.” Seeing Tao Zhi unconvinced, Fu Zheng immediately started complaining again: “My head hurts too.”

“My neck hurts too.”

“How’s everything suddenly hurting?”

“…”

Fu Si Heng placed the bedding back on the sofa and returned just in time to hear this exchange.

Compared to Tao Zhi’s worry, Fu Si Heng stood at the door, watching Fu Zheng’s performance with a blank face.

He said nothing.

But his lips moved.

Fu Zheng didn’t know lip-reading, but those two words were too easy to make out.

Retard.

Fu Si Heng was cursing him.

Fu Zheng sneered.

Their gazes met over Tao Zhi’s head, thick with gunpowder.

They both saw two words in each other’s eyes.

Provocation.

Declaration of war.