Lin Jianxi felt like he was dreaming. Gu Heng repeated himself: “Song Cheng’an has no parents, and you feel sorry for him. Why don’t we raise him into a proper adult?”
Lin Jianxi never interfered with Gu Heng’s decisions, but raising a child was another matter entirely…
Gu Heng went on: “We won’t have kids of our own.”
Lin Jianxi eyed him closely. “If you like kids so much, why’d you hit him yesterday?”
Gu Heng let out a chuckle. Lin Jianxi couldn’t tell if it was his imagination, but there seemed to be a trace of contempt in it. “Seeing him just reminded me of his parents. I couldn’t help myself.”
Lin Jianxi leaned back against the headboard and nudged Gu Heng with his foot. “Couldn’t hold back yesterday, but you can today?”
Gu Heng replied earnestly, “I’ve realized my mistake. I’ll treat him right from now on.”
Lin Jianxi narrowed his eyes.
“Ask Song Cheng’an if he’s okay with it.”
Song Cheng’an was in the guest room, sipping porridge. The boy sat ramrod straight, and now that he wasn’t starving anymore, his movements had taken on an air of refinement. Lin Jianxi felt even more certain of his suspicions.
A few months back, the Song Family must have been one of the prominent clans around here.
Gu Heng cut straight to the chase. “Want to keep staying here?”
Song Cheng’an paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth and lowered his lashes. “Mm.”
“He’s fine with it,” Gu Heng said, glancing at Lin Jianxi. “I’ll head to work then. You two get along.”
Lin Jianxi could tell the pair was hiding something from him. He let out a helpless laugh.
Once Gu Heng had gone, the guest room held only Song Cheng’an and him.
Lin Jianxi opted to keep some distance from the boy, settling into the chair in the room’s farthest corner. He chatted idly. “How old are you?”
“Fourteen.” The voice had lost its rasp.
Second or third year of junior high. Lin Jianxi toyed with his lighter. “Rest up a few days, then head back to school. Public or private? Or your old one? Don’t worry about the money…”
“Back to my old school,” Song Cheng’an cut in. “Tuition’s three hundred thousand a year.”
He stared at Lin Jianxi, face blank.
Lin Jianxi: “…”
Kid had some nerve.
Lin Jianxi had zero experience with children. At that age, he’d already been in a top university’s youth program—small class, all girls. Teen boys and girls were always awkward around each other back then, so he’d kept to himself or trailed after professors even older than his dad, running experiments without saying more than a few words a day.
Lin Jianxi mulled it over, then called for a servant to fetch a tablet and handed it over. “Wanna watch some cartoons?”
Song Cheng’an kept quietly slurping his porridge.
Feeling a bit foolish, Lin Jianxi fired up Boonie Bears and watched with a grin. He reached for a cigarette on instinct, then spotted Song Cheng’an nearby and shoved the pack back in his pocket.
Song Cheng’an finished his porridge and pushed the bowl aside. “Phone.”
Lin Jianxi grabbed a new one for him and retreated to his corner to keep watching Boonie Bears.
Song Cheng’an eyed him. “Don’t you have your own stuff to do?”
Lin Jianxi shrugged. “Sure do. Househusband duties. Tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll whip it up.”
Song Cheng’an fell silent. Lin Jianxi didn’t press, just lounged in his pajamas, lazily taking in the cartoons.
Song Cheng’an huffed. “Why don’t you leave?”
Lin Jianxi blinked. “Oh. Guess I will.”
With that, he ambled out of the guest room and flopped onto the living room sofa. He had a servant bring a bottle of hard liquor and nursed it while watching more Boonie Bears. He held his booze well and loved that pleasant buzz. Gu Heng always called it charming, but Lin Jianxi saw himself differently—a rough-around-the-edges slob with a laundry list of bad habits. Didn’t care about fancy food or clothes, smoked and drank like a fish. Oh, and he was an otaku at heart, hooked on anime.
No real redeeming qualities. Without the System handing him this life, he’d probably have died alone.
He lost track of time drinking until the sunlight streaming in told him it was likely noon. Time to fix something for Song Cheng’an. The kid was sticking around, after all—might as well play the responsible adult.
Not that he wanted to ruffle the boy’s hair or pull him into hugs like some doting relative.
Song Cheng’an was a little pervert, after all.
Could you even fix a pervert and turn them normal?
Lin Jianxi pondered as he snatched up a tomato and hacked at it on the cutting board. Juice splattered everywhere, turning the kitchen into a crime scene. The maid came rushing in to rescue the poor vegetables, then stared in dismay at the gouged board.
“Mr. Lin.”
“Hm?” Lin Jianxi was locked in mortal combat with the eggshells floating in his beaten eggs. “What?”
“Let me handle it. You go rest.”
“Nah, I’m cooking for the kid. Hey, he’s living here now. Teens need fuel to grow—extra meals, right? Make sure to feed him plenty.”
“…” Sounded like he was fattening up livestock. The maid forced a smile. “Of course, Mr. Lin. But the young master’s stomach isn’t great. He can’t eat eggshells.”
In the end, with the maid’s guidance, Lin Jianxi managed a bowl of tomato egg drop soup that was actually edible. It looked more like pot-scraping water than anything, but it worked. Figuring kids loved sweets, he rummaged through the snack cabinet and unearthed a bag of gummy bears, then carried it all to Song Cheng’an’s room.
He knocked first. No answer after a while, so he let himself in—
The trash bin was overflowing with tissues.
Song Cheng’an faced the window, his nose pink. He turned his head away at the sound of Lin Jianxi entering, not wanting anyone to see.
Lin Jianxi set the tray on the table. “No more crying. Come eat.”
Song Cheng’an dragged himself to the chair and sat. He stared at the bowl, his spoon hand trembling faintly. A tear plopped right into the soup.
Eh, kids cried. No big deal.
Lin Jianxi leaned against the doorframe, drawling, “You can wander around down here as you like, but stay off the second floor.”
That was his bedroom and laundry room. He wasn’t about to get his underwear swiped again.
Song Cheng’an looked up, eyes icy, teeth gritted. “Why?”
Lin Jianxi shot back, “Don’t you know why?”
Song Cheng’an just glared, those eyes all puppy-like. It was kinda cute, so Lin Jianxi chuckled. “Dig in. What’s the holdup?”
He stood there in his baggy pajamas—buttons done up neatly for once—and kept a good two meters between them, like the kid carried some contagion. Not far off, really. He was dodging Song Cheng’an.
Maybe later he’d consult some child psychologist, see if they could straighten the boy out into something normal.
The way he looked at him like a pet made Song Cheng’an grind his teeth in fury. Deeply humiliated, he lowered his head and drank the soup. Lin Jianxi reminded him, “There’s sugar right next to you.”
Song Cheng’an grabbed a handful and shoved it into his mouth, swallowing it down with the soup.
Lin Jianxi arched a brow. “Slow down. We’re having the same thing tomorrow.”
Song Cheng’an: “…”
~~~
His cooking skills had inexplicably soared. Buoyed by the encouragement, Lin Jianxi bought a stack of books. He lounged on the sofa, one leg hooked over the armrest, flipping through the pages one by one. Slightly nearsighted, he wore gold-rimmed glasses, his lips a vivid red beneath the frames. The tip of his tongue darted out now and then, equally red, setting Gu Heng ablaze with desire. He knelt beneath the sofa, pressing kisses to his feet.
“If there wasn’t a kid around, I’d have you right here.”
Lin Jianxi turned a deaf ear. “Husband, what do you feel like eating?”
“You.”
“Great, I’ll make it… What do you want? Noodles or stir-fry? Chinese or Western? What flavor?”
“Lin Jianxi flavor.”
“…”
Lin Jianxi shoved Gu Heng away with his foot. “Why are you acting like a pervert too?”
Gu Heng latched onto that “too.” “What do you mean? Run into any perverts lately?”
Lin Jianxi described his first run-in with Song Cheng’an. “Find someone who knows about child-rearing and ask what to do. Gay’s not the issue—the stealing habit has to go.”
Gu Heng tugged at his lips. “Yeah? Got it.”
Lin Jianxi’s gut twisted. He shot Gu Heng a look but held his tongue.
At two a.m., Gu Heng slipped quietly from the bedroom. Lin Jianxi had been feigning sleep, eyes closed to rest his mind. Now he opened them, calm and steady, and padded barefoot after him.
The house opened onto a courtyard. Lin Jianxi pressed against the back of the door, gaze lowered, listening to the voices outside.
Song Cheng’an: “Oh, so that’s what you’re afraid of.”
Gu Heng: “I’m warning you—”
Song Cheng’an sneered. “Then kill me. You don’t have the guts, but you can’t swallow that grudge. You’re just a dog barking madly in frustration. All you’ve got are your filthy little tricks—”
Before he could finish, there came a bang!
Song Cheng’an flew back from the courtyard into the room, blood streaming from his head. He lay sprawled on the floor, motionless.
The scene stunned Lin Jianxi for a solid ten seconds. Gu Heng stepped in from the courtyard and froze at the sight of him.
Lin Jianxi wasn’t sure what tone colored his words. “What did he do wrong?”
Gu Heng kicked Song Cheng’an aside like so much trash. “It’s between him and me.”
“Does it have to be like this? He’ll die.”
“…”
Gu Heng clammed up about his beef with Song Cheng’an. He called the servants to drag the boy to the guest room. Lin Jianxi wanted to summon a doctor, but Gu Heng nixed it.
Lin Jianxi fell silent for a beat, then leaned in to brush a kiss against Gu Heng’s chin. He met his eyes. “Husband, he’s too young for this.”
Gu Heng couldn’t say no to him like that. He sighed. “Do what you want. Just don’t stay up too late.”
~~~
Lin Jianxi stubbed out his fifth cigarette, staring blankly out the window.
He didn’t go back to the bedroom. Instead, he spent the night in the rocking chair on the living room balcony.
He pinched a little bear gummy between his fingertips. Gu Heng wouldn’t elaborate on his history with Song Cheng’an and had the servants lock the boy in the guest room. Lin Jianxi had wanted to call a doctor, but Gu Heng refused.
After a moment’s silence, Lin Jianxi said, “Gu Heng, you should see someone at the hospital.”
Gu Heng: “What’re you getting at?”
Lin Jianxi didn’t beat around the bush. “I think you’ve got violent tendencies. I’ll ship Song Cheng’an out tomorrow. He won’t set foot in this house again.”
Lin Jianxi had pieced together the bad blood between Gu Heng and Song Cheng’an from the sidelines.
Song Cheng’an’s parents had royally screwed Gu Heng in some business deal. The kid was sharp as a tack, and his folks doted on him. Even young, he had pull at the company. Maybe he’d seen Gu Heng at his lowest, or maybe he’d twisted the knife himself. Either way, Gu Heng nursed a deep grudge.
He didn’t want to pick a fight with Gu Heng, so he skipped the fuss of a doctor and just tossed some bread, water, and anti-inflammatories into the guest room. Lin Jianxi knew injuries; the boy wouldn’t die from it.
Lin Jianxi toyed with the gummy bear, his mind churning.
What kind of world was this?
If it was a book, what parts were he and Gu Heng playing?
No such thing as a free lunch. It had taken until now for him to feel it—he’d been had. At this rate, he couldn’t just play househusband quietly and coast through life.