Arc.
1.15
The Wicked Child of the Stepmother
Nian Zhen finally got his wish: a grand seafood feast.
Now he lay back on a lounge chair, gazing at the clear ocean water, inhaling the salty sea breeze, and feeling the fresh coolness of the wind.
Hugging a large coconut with a straw sticking out, he sipped the cool coconut water in pure relaxation, as if all his troubles had vanished.
Damn it.
If only time could freeze right here.
Life was good—perfect, even.
Surely, such moments wouldn’t come again.
Xie Yanjing lay beside him, intensely focused on the tablet in his hands.
Not wanting to disturb him, Nian Zhen turned his attention back to the view, idly rubbing his full stomach while taking another sip from the coconut, seemingly eating or drinking at every moment.
After a while, the gentle ocean breeze and his recent meal made Nian Zhen’s eyelids grow heavy, and eventually, he couldn’t resist his sleepiness and slowly drifted off to sleep.
When Xie Yanjing turned to look again, he saw that the person lying next to him was now breathing evenly.
His small face was peacefully asleep, his eyelids gently closed, giving him an innocent, harmless look.
His thin lips were a delicate, flushed pink.
His cheeks were particularly round, and his skin a healthy pinkish-white.
Looking up, he could see his long, naturally wavy eyelashes and soft, light brown hair naturally falling down across his forehead, giving him a gentle, peaceful look.
Even though the person was lying so close, Xie Yanjing couldn’t bring himself to touch him, not because he didn’t want to reach out, but because he couldn’t.
Since birth, as ‘Xie Yanjing,’ the heir to the Xie family, he’d been given everything.
There was never a need to ask; everyone handed him everything, assuming it was what he deserved due to his status as the Xie family heir.
He had it all, and yet nothing was truly his.
From his earliest memories, he was raised by nannies hired by the Xie family, taught by his grandfather Xie Lanzhong.
His father and mother went about their lives as if they had no child or obligation.
No one took notice of Xie Yanjing.
And no one loved him.
Xie Lanzhong saw him as a tool for succession, not as a grandson.
He wanted to control the power of his son Xie Heng, who had grown too influential.
Xie Lanzhong even forced him into a marriage alliance with a daughter from An family, who had an equal status, to pressure Xie Heng and maintain family control.
Xie Yanjing was merely the product of this union, an asset from a convenient union between two prominent families.
Xie Yanjing understood all this as he grew up, and with his grandfather’s strict upbringing, he became someone who had little empathy and rarely regarded others.
The only things that affected him, the few matters that even registered as bothersome, were the issues surrounding his family—something he despised deeply.
When his birth mother passed away, Xie Yanjing didn’t feel sadness.
He had no bond with her; she’d never nurtured or loved him.
Shortly after her death, his father, Xie Heng, quickly remarried.
Just over a month had passed, and his father couldn’t seem to wait.
He didn’t even care if it upset the An family or hurt his son’s feelings; he simply did as he pleased without caring about anything.
Everyone thought that Xie Yanjing resented his father’s new wife, Du Yao, simply because she had taken his mother’s place.
But that wasn’t the real reason.
Xie Yanjing despised her greed, and he hated that his father, the esteemed head of the Xie family, treated her with such sincerity—as if blind to her true nature.
Xie Heng had found his true love, happily remarried, and was now expecting another son.
Everyone was happy, but what right did they have to be happy when he was consumed by hatred, used as a mere tool, while they were all about to enjoy real happiness, with a true family?
Xie Yanjing had always been vengeful but had learned to bury his feelings deeply.
If he showed a hint of negativity, it was a small matter.
But if he stayed silent, that was the warning: it meant he was storing his hatred and waiting for the right moment to strike.
The first and only thing Xie Yanjing ever truly wanted to claim as his own was Meng Zhenzhen.
He sensed that Meng Zhenzhen hadn’t always been this way, but he liked the current version of Meng Zhenzhen.
He was grateful for whatever had allowed him to discover who Xiao Zhen really was.
Someone who appeared scheming and malicious, setting traps for him to fall into, was, in reality, so innocent.
Meanwhile, the people around him, who treated him kindly on the surface, were secretly waiting for the day he would fall, so they could eagerly step in and add to his misery.
Xie Yanjing recognized that of everyone in his life, only Xiao Zhen was genuine.
Moreover, Xiao Zhen’s desires were simple.
He didn’t crave wealth or power; he only needed good food and a new novel, and he’d be content.
That little brain of his could only come up with a handful of schemes to trouble him, and none of them could actually hurt or affect him in the slightest.
To Xie Yanjing, Zhenzhen was utterly endearing.
In reality, Xiao Zhen was funny, easygoing, and didn’t hold grudges.
Being around him was incredibly comforting.
Xie Yanjing didn’t feel the need to hide his aura, nor did he need to suppress his sharpness.
In front of Xiao Zhen, he could truly be himself.
It was through reading that novel that he discovered he liked Xiao Zhen, and he was certain of them when he brought home Xiao Pang.
Taking care of Zhenzhen and Xiao Pang were entirely different things.
Through hearing Xiao Zhen’s thoughts, Xie Yanjing knew that if he wanted to win him over, he must never confess his feelings now.
Instead, he had to take care of him, pamper him, and make his life as comfortable as possible—so comfortable that he’d grow spoiled, unable to imagine living any other way.
Of course, such a life could only be sustained by staying by his side.
He was sharp and perceptive, and after getting to know Xiao Zhen’s personality, he realized that he was drawn to those who showed they cared through actions, not words.
Xie Yanjing was not one to voice his concern, so he acted instead.
And without even noticing, Xiao Zhen had grown closer to him.
Xiao Zhen himself likely hadn’t noticed how much he had come to trust him.
Despite Xiao Zhen’s cautious thoughts, he trusted Xie Yanjing without question whenever he spoke, accepting his words without a hint of doubt.
This feeling was trust.
It had taken Xie Yanjing months to earn it.
Now, Xiao Zhen lay beside him, fast asleep and defenseless.
Xie Yanjing couldn’t take his eyes off that beautiful face, and the sense of possession he felt grew stronger with every passing moment.
[…] The male lead’s Darkness Level had increased by another 5%.
The system was confused.
The darkness level rise just from the protagonist staring at the host?
Surely, he wasn’t planning to harm the host, was he?
Could the plot really be reverting to its original course?
Currently, the Darkness Level was at 20%.
The fledgling system, unfortunately, was far too optimistic.
Xie Yanjing pulled a blanket over Nian Zhen and then reclined beside him, his deep gaze unfathomable.
Xiao Zhen was so pure, and yet, people still wanted to hurt him.
He never created enemies; his days were spent simply eating, sleeping, and reading novels.
When he did think of something else, it was only about him.
Even though he tried to scheme against Xie Yanjing, it seemed as though his sole purpose in life was to succeed in his plans against him, leaving little attention for anyone else.
Knowing Xiao Zhen’s background before he’d come to live with the Xias, Xie Yanjing hadn’t realized just how much worse his life had actually been.
What the Meng family had done now could ruin Xiao Zhen’s entire future.
The scornful rumors of his birth and the public condemnation… they would mark Xiao Zhen for life.
Even so, Xie Yanjing couldn’t help him.
He couldn’t do anything for Xiao Zhen because he was constantly under Xie Lanzhong’s control.
It was then that he truly realized…just how powerless he really was.
He seemed to have everything, but in reality…he had nothing.
[…] The system wasn’t privy to the male lead’s thoughts, but his Darkness Level had increased.
The Darkness Level now stood at 30%.