Yu Cheng: “???”
What on earth?
He saw Chu Hanfeng lift the blanket and lie down directly on the inner side of the bed, leaving him with an extremely cold and ruthless back, giving off a strong vibe of not caring whether people lived or died.
Yu Cheng was completely numb.
If he were to lie on the same bed as Chu Hanfeng, he would really die.
“Chu Hanfeng, you…”
Yu Cheng was pushed past his limit, almost ready to greet the other’s ancestors, when the buzzing sound of a cell phone unceremoniously rang out right by his ear.
The unuttered fancy greetings choked in his throat. Yu Cheng followed the sound and discovered it was Chu Hanfeng’s phone.
As for the person lying sideways on the bed, they showed not the slightest intention of moving.
He had no idea if those people knew their white moonlight could fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, possessing a sleep quality that was simply sky-high.
Yu Cheng glanced at the densely packed dark hair at the back of Chu Hanfeng’s head, then looked at the continuously flashing light of the phone screen, discovering it was a call from the production team.
After the phone vibrated for four or five seconds with no one answering, the other side hung up.
The missed call reminder instantly appeared on the lock screen notification bar.
Parallel to it were several messages sent by a WeChat contact noted as Xue Ji, with the outermost one clearly displaying: “Can I not like you for a bit?”
Yu Cheng: “…”
Yu Cheng: “…………”
Yu Cheng: “………………”
What did he just see?
Actually, it would have been fine originally, not all that strange either.
But the person sending messages to Chu Hanfeng was Xue Ji, which made it very easy for people’s imaginations to run wild.
Especially running into words like “like,” falling into Yu Cheng’s eyes, it inexplicably took on a rather impure flavor.
Without waiting to see it completely, Yu Cheng used a high moral standard to promptly shift his gaze away.
He swore to heaven that he was not deliberately prying into other people’s privacy.
It was just really coincidental, thrusting right in front of his face.
It was just that even Yu Cheng himself had not expected that Xue Ji would have already confessed at this point in time?
This tone… was it probably confessed to just the second before?
Yu Cheng sighed inwardly, living up to the name of a tsundere bamboo-horse president attack.
Even the confession looked helpless and humble.
Yet very persistent.
Unwavering, growing more courageous with every setback, it should be a high-quality stock capable of enduring prosperity for a long time.
Yu Cheng sat back down on the small stool to calm down for a brief moment, and before long, the production team called again.
This time, it was calling him.
The tone on the other end was filled with thick concern and curiosity, asking gently, “Xiao Cheng, are the cameras in your room covered up? The microphones are not turned on either.”
Hearing this, Yu Cheng glanced at that white towel Chu Hanfeng had draped over the camera lens, and was hesitant to speak: “Does sleeping require filming too?”
“Just patch in a few pre-sleep shots, like wishing each other good night and things like that.”
“…”
Yu Cheng found it very difficult to imagine the scene of himself and Chu Hanfeng wishing each other good night.
Even if he were willing, whether Chu Hanfeng could cooperate remained a question.
Not to mention that his heart would twitch at the slightest disturbance right now.
Yu Cheng simply shifted all responsibility onto Chu Hanfeng; anyway, it didn’t count as his blame: “But Chu Hanfeng is already asleep.”
“He is already asleep?” The other side was also surprised.
“Yes, asleep.”
“Didn’t he tell Teacher Chou earlier that he sleeps relatively late?”
Who knows.
Yu Cheng thought to himself, could it be that Chu Hanfeng was deliberately annoying him?
Or perhaps he felt there were too many etiquette rules and found it troublesome living with an elder, while having other people present meant he more or less had to maintain his good external image.
Better to stay with him.
At least in front of him, all the composure and cultivation of the worldly noble young master had long since been used up to the point where very little remained. He no longer needed to keep up appearances, act lofty, or maintain complete vigilance even during rest, lest a slight misstep shatter his filtered image completely.
Was he supposed to deserve getting bullied, and inexplicably fed dog food by Xue Ji?
Thinking like this, Yu Cheng felt even more aggrieved.
Chu Hanfeng was simply not human.
In a daze, Yu Cheng heard low murmurs drifting into his ears from the other end of the phone.
“He is probably really exhausted,” someone whispered. “I heard he flew to several cities in two days and basically had no time to close his eyes, just to come on our show, which is why he rushed and finished all his schedule activities for this week ahead of time.”
“He thinks that highly of us?”
“Forget it, do not wake him up. We can just patch-record a few shots tomorrow.”
The person put the phone back to their ear: “Alright, Xiao Cheng, you get some rest early too. Let us leave it at that for today.”
“I know.”
There was a moment of contemplation.
Yu Cheng stood up, turned off the overhead lighting, and, utilizing the dim, faint light of his phone, sat back down on the small stool.
Feeling somewhat tired, he rested his hands on the edge of the bed and buried his head in the back of his hands.
He really was a good person.
Yu Cheng reflected inwardly that he was still thinking of turning off the lights for Chu Hanfeng at a time like this.
Yet the next second, his own drowsiness arrived quite suddenly.
Ever since Chu Hanfeng’s appearance, Yu Cheng had kept his entire body in a state of tight tension, the string in his head never relaxing for a single moment. Now that the surroundings grew dark and frighteningly quiet, that intense wave of exhaustion swept over, engulfing all consciousness deep within his mind like a tidal wave.
Before long, Yu Cheng yawned and closed his eyes, his breathing gradually becoming light and steady.
Chu Hanfeng opened his eyes at this very moment.
He turned his head sideways. The dark, pitch-black gaze appeared exceptionally deep and clear-cut in this thick night, and then, without making a sound, he cast his gaze lightly from the corner of his eyes, letting his sight fall entirely upon the slender silhouette that was close at hand.
In front of him was pitch black, and he could only vaguely see the messy strands of hair atop the other’s head, and the sharply lined shoulder blades protruding due to his arched back.
This person really was very thin.
It seemed his picky eating habits hadn’t been corrected after all, as expected.
He had been extremely selective since back then, refusing to eat this and rejecting that, making it really difficult to put on even a few ounces of flesh.
Even if a tiny speck of scallion floated in the noodle soup, he had to painstakingly pick all of them out like someone with obsessive-compulsive disorder, otherwise even taking a bite felt reluctant.
Just like when eating crabs today, that spicy plate was left untouched even by his chopsticks simply because it contained scallions and coriander.
He kept his eyes glued exclusively to the plain, clear-soup portion.
Only…
He was much more well-behaved when sleeping than before.
During that period back then, Yu Zhengxiang was always away on business frequently, and whenever he had free time, he was busy dating and staying abroad with Song Feiwan. Yu Cheng, left behind guarding the home, would often entrust him to look after him occasionally.
Later, Song Feiwan found running back and forth troublesome and simply asked him to pick Yu Cheng up to live together at home, under the fine-sounding pretext of having an extra companion, so that maybe they could form a family later on and cultivate feelings for living together in the future.
Saying that he didn’t feel the slightest bit reluctant would certainly be a lie.
After all, this young master was truly capable of creating a huge ruckus. Even when sitting on the sofa, as long as he wasn’t paying attention, his entire body would be lying sideways.
When asleep, it was even more so, with both legs spread wide as if trying to monopolize the territory, and the blanket always draped over only half of him, while the other half had to wait until the next morning to be dragged up from under the bed.
Yet Young Master Yu preferred not using his hands whenever possible, often wrapping himself in a corner of the blanket like rolling a spring roll on the bed until he declared it a success, looking like a lazy cat.
Once, it happened to be witnessed by him when he came to wake him up, and the other guy had simply buried his entire head into the tightly wrapped blanket, attempting to escape the reality of being about to run late for school.
That was quite hard to evaluate.
After all, Chu Hanfeng had lived for fifteen years at that time, and there were naturally no peers who shared meals and lived under the same roof with him day in and day out. Among those he saw in daily life, very few possessed a personality like Yu Cheng’s.
Even Xue Ji, who appeared exceptionally annoying in front of him, was merely excessively naggy.
Yet peculiarly, his tolerance toward Yu Cheng’s matters was always extraordinarily high.
If it had been anyone else, they probably would never have had a second chance to act insolent in front of him; let alone staying overnight, they probably wouldn’t have been allowed to linger for even a single moment, directly rolling away luggage and all in one clean motion.
Much like how if the person appearing in his own home had been Pei You, staying even one extra second would have been pure torture.
Chu Hanfeng had reflected on himself in the past.
In the end, he blamed everything on the other person’s genuinely pleasing face.
People are all visual animals, and upon encountering a look they liked, they were willing to gaze a few extra times.
He ought to be the same toward Yu Cheng.
That was why the moment the other party first appeared before him, he had subconsciously remembered that name.
That was why when Song Feiwan asked him to pick someone up, the words of refusal had already reached his lips before he suddenly changed his tune.
Yu Cheng being required to live with him started from that time he went out to fight alongside Pei Yan.
When receiving the call from the police station, Yu Zhengxiang was obviously flustered, repeatedly inquiring to ensure his precious son was truly safe, before his heart finally settled down half-steadily.
Yet Yu Cheng was separated from him by the vast Pacific Ocean, making it practically impossible to rush back on short notice, which was why he thought of him.
That was already past twelve o’clock at night.
The villa was brightly lit. When receiving the call, he was sitting on the sofa with a laptop resting on his legs. The screen displayed the financial contract Chu Shihua had sent him during the day, saying he wanted to ask for his views and opinions in a few days—an intention whose aim was as clear as day, being no different from teachers who randomly checked homework.
He was actually reading it somewhat absentmindedly, and for no reason, reading one more word felt annoying.
The front door at the foyer hadn’t been bolted shut yet either, and sitting on the decorative cabinet nearby was an LED electronic clock displaying the time growing progressively later.
It wasn’t until well past midnight by more than half an hour that Song Feiwan called to ask if he had rested and whether he could go to the police station to pick someone up, saying that everything else had already been taken care of and he just needed to bring the person away directly.
Pick who up?
Who else could it be?
Thanks to Yu Cheng, he witnessed this scene for the first time in his life, and then before taking the person away, he met and exchanged greetings with a certain senior who had friendly ties with Song Feiwan.
“Actually, it is no big deal. If I were not tied up, I would have directly helped send people back for you,” the other person said. “It is just that children are mischievous, and you as the older brother must educate him properly; otherwise, this time he only got bruised, but next time there is no telling what the outcome might be.”
With that, he was led to see that little ancestor who was waiting idly on the bench.
The little ancestor was propping his chin, staring blankly at the wall clock with nothing to do.
Until he heard movement and casually glanced in his direction, his whole body freezing blankly for a long while, even the sleep-drenched pupils brightening for a split second before he knew it.
Yu Cheng’s eye color was inherently slightly lighter than others. When illuminated by the overhead incandescent light, it looked as though it had been washed through by a clear, bright spring, carrying even the fine star fragments falling into the spring reflected together inside those eyes.
Yet this look lasted only for a single instant.
In a flash, he put on a stinky expression again with his bruised and battered face, attempting to sneak away, only to be dragged back by the collar of his back seized preemptively.
He truly was a child who was very hard to deal with.
Much like later when he led the person back home, buying iodophor cotton balls and Band-Aids at a twenty-four-hour pharmacy, treating the person’s wounds with cautious care while the other still maintained an awkward look, gritting his teeth through the pain for a moment before finally speaking up unwillingly: “I will do it myself.”
He ignored the person, using tweezers to clamp a cotton ball to disinfect the abrasion on Yu Cheng’s lip corner.
The little ancestor probably felt it hurt, shrinking his neck while drawing in cold air, and kept shouting: “You… you lighter…”
When Yu Cheng said those words, he suppressed his voice, sounding like a low purr emitted by a cat deep in its throat.
For some reason, he suddenly felt somewhat thirsty.
Thus, when lowering his eyes to gaze at the person before him, he subconsciously swallowed very lightly, yet still felt his throat was dry.
This sensation was actually very uncomfortable.
Especially since the distance between them was truly too close, making it seem as though any slight carelessness might let the other perceive it.
But in reality, this trace of movement wasn’t enough to disturb anything.
Even from the surface, he hadn’t even disordered his breathing by half an inch.
Only the voice that abruptly broke the silence between them harbored a trace of faint hoarseness that hadn’t had time to recede, yet it was also barely audible.
Chu Hanfeng said coolly: “Stay away from anyone surnamed Pei from now on.”