The earlier collision left Fu Cen feeling dizzy and weak-legged the entire way. The maid, Aunt Wang, clearly noticed the young master’s discomfort but didn’t ask. Everyone in the manor preferred to act invisible around Fu Cen.
But perhaps it was just an illusion…
Aunt Wang couldn’t help stealing a glance at the young man opposite her. His head was wrapped in a bandage stained with blood, his face pale, his plump lips pressed together, and his eyelashes trembling slightly—a perfect image of a delicate, sickly beauty, so stunning it was almost blinding.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that something about the young master had changed after hitting his head.
The villa doors swung open from both sides, letting in a gust of wind and snow. Following the maid’s guidance, Fu Cen arrived at the garden where Shen Sigu was supposed to be standing as punishment, but there was no sign of anyone.
The thought of the little kid likely frozen stiff in some dark corner, too exhausted to even call for help, filled Fu Cen with anxiety. Just as he was about to search elsewhere, he heard a burst of cheerful laughter.
Several children were frolicking about, having a snowball fight. One little boy stood atop a tall pile of snow, commanding the others like a small general, directing where to throw. The children jumped and ran around, sweating from their play, completely unaware of Fu Cen approaching.
Looking around them, there were snowmen of various sizes, empty fast-food containers, and all sorts of snow-play toys scattered about—it seemed they had been having a wild time all day.
Fu Cen felt a bit dizzy. Emotionally, he told himself that this little one pretending to be a general with a red scarf couldn’t possibly be the same pitiful child he had punished to stand all day.
But rationally, he knew it was indeed the same child.
Forget it, he’d just have a servant call the child back later. Fu Cen turned to slip away, only to be stopped by an extremely loud, childish voice.
“Fu Cen!”
Fu Cen froze, his body stiffening as he turned around. All the children had stopped playing and were staring at him in unison. Fu Cen felt suffocated, but since they were just a group of kids, he suppressed the urge to flee.
The little calf-like child scrambled over on short legs, quickly reaching Fu Cen. Looking up with wide, pleading eyes, he said, “Fu Cen Daddy, can I go home now?”
Even after playing wildly all day, the sub-zero temperatures had left the little one’s face flushed red, with frost crystals clinging to his eyelashes. He blinked them away, looking pitifully at Fu Cen, whose heart melted completely.
This fictional child from the novel was so adorable!
The child’s eyes reddened as he said, “I won’t… ever wake up late again.”
Upon closer inspection, the little one was still trembling slightly.
Ever since his father brought his stepfather home, he hadn’t had a single happy day. Today was a rare chance to play outside, but he had been caught by his stepfather. Surely, even harsher torment awaited him.
But his father never paid him any attention. Not long ago, he had expressed disappointment that his five-year-old son couldn’t read financial newspapers, and shortly after, he brought home his stepfather.
The child had once tried to complain to his father about his stepfather’s cruel behavior, only to receive a message from his father’s secretary: “The CEO is busy.”
When his stepfather found out, he flew into a rage. After that, the child’s meals were replaced with his most hated leeks and cucumbers, and he was locked in a dark room day and night.
Perhaps this time, his stepfather would use “physical training” as an excuse to make him bathe in the icy water of the lotus pond at night.
Though the child had been optimistic and cheerful since birth, after months of daily belittlement and denial, smiles rarely appeared on his face. To protect himself, the clever child had learned to act submissive and obedient.
As long as he pretended to be more frightened and pitiful, his stepfather might be in a better mood and not torment him too much.
Just as the child was trying to make himself tremble even more, a warm blanket was suddenly draped over him. Fu Cen wrapped the little one tightly and picked him up, softly comforting him, “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid…”
He wanted to say more to reassure the child, but he wasn’t good with words. These few words were already his limit. Instead, he held the child tightly, using his actions to show that his embrace was safe.
Ironically, this only made the child tremble even more.
No matter how clever a child is, facing an adult whose attitude suddenly changes can evoke an unknown fear. At this moment, the child also suspected that his stepfather was plotting something worse, so he became even more cautious. Resting his chin on his stepfather’s shoulder, he glanced at his friends still standing in the snow and gave them a meaningful look.
—I’ve distracted the bad guy. You all run, quick.
Even if he was scared, as a man, he had to protect his companions.
Unexpectedly, Fu Cen suddenly stopped and called out to the children who had scattered in a rush, “Wait.”
The children’s faces instantly turned ashen, their heads hanging low in fear that this wealthy lady would punish their parents for playing with the young master.
These were all children of the manor’s servants. If their parents were punished because of them, they would also be scolded by their parents.
But then, the beautiful male lady spoke in a gentle, soft voice, unlike before, “Are you hungry? Would you like to have something to eat before going back?”
He had just noticed that there weren’t many fast-food boxes on the ground, guessing that the children had pooled their money to buy them from outside. Sharing among so many kids, they likely couldn’t have eaten their fill.
The little one in his arms tightened his grip on his stepfather’s thin pajamas, the only clothing left on him. Beneath his fluttering eyelashes was confusion, wondering what strange mood had struck his stepfather this time.
None of the children dared to actually go and eat. After saying, “Thank you, ma’am, we’re not hungry,” they fled as if a tiger were chasing them.
Fu Cen had mustered his courage to say those words. Seeing this, he didn’t stop them. Instead, he held the little one close and returned to the mansion.
Aunt Wang had already instructed the kitchen to serve the warmed-up dishes. In front of the little one was placed a plate of stale vegetables and white rice, without even a cup of warm milk.
Shen Sigu was used to this. Even though he didn’t like eating greens, he was so hungry that he shoveled large mouthfuls into his mouth. At the same time, he hoped that by behaving obediently, his stepfather wouldn’t punish him for not standing in the corner as he was supposed to.
The sight of the child being so cautious made Fu Cen feel deeply uncomfortable.
How could leftover food be given to a growing child?
Fu Cen stood up and went to the kitchen to take a look. At this hour, the chef had already clocked out, leaving only two servants on duty.
Fu Cen carefully washed his hands, took out flour, mixed it with water, and began kneading the dough. His movements were clumsy but meticulous, without a hint of carelessness.
Outside, the little one finished his vegetables and even mixed the leftover sauce on the plate with his rice. After eating, he still felt his stomach empty. It was only then that he realized his stepfather had disappeared.
After a moment of hesitation, the little one hopped off the stool on his short legs and made his way to the kitchen, hoping to find something to eat in the fridge.
Instead, he saw Fu Cen pulling noodles in front of the counter. The noodles were uneven in length and thickness, and the air was filled with a haze of white flour. With a blood-stained bandage wrapped around his head, his stepfather was struggling to follow the steps in a tutorial video, making a mess of things.
The little one hid behind the glass partition, peeking in. Of course, he didn’t think the noodles were being made for him. Seeing no chance to sneak to the fridge, he could only return to his room on an empty stomach.
It’s okay, he thought. Sleeping would make the hunger go away.
Little Sigu comforted himself this way. He had always been resilient. After finding the servant sister who took care of him to help him wash up, he climbed back into his small bed, ready to sleep. Throughout it all, he was very well-behaved, hardly showing any traces of the mischievous child he had once been.
The servant looked at the young master’s current state and secretly wiped the corners of his eyes.
It was also because of these illusions that the busy CEO mistakenly believed that the male wife’s guidance was effective.
On the fifth rumble of his stomach, the door was knocked, and Gugu immediately perked up his ears.
“Are… you asleep?”
It was the voice of his detested stepfather.
Gugu didn’t want to answer, because if he was caught staying up late, there would be punishment. But he glanced at the clock—there was still over an hour left before the bedtime set by his stepfather.
The voice outside the door hesitated slightly: “If you’re asleep, then forget it…”
Just as Fu Cen turned to leave, Gugu opened the door and peeked out half his head, his gaze wary yet questioning, before finally landing on the tray in Fu Cen’s hands. On it was a bowl of plain, hand-pulled noodles in clear broth.
Gugu swallowed a tiny gulp.
His two short arms wrapped around Fu Cen’s long legs as he looked up with pleading eyes and asked, “Daddy Fu Cen, is this for me?”
Only at times like this would he sweetly call him “Daddy.”
Even as a little child, he understood the wisdom of adapting to circumstances.
Fu Cen stiffened momentarily when the child hugged his leg—he had never been comfortable with close contact. But remembering that this was just a five-year-old child, he gradually relaxed. Carrying the noodles into the room and placing them on the table, he smiled gently and said, “Want to try?”
Gugu eagerly picked up the silver short chopsticks, scooped up a mouthful of noodles, and stuffed them into his mouth. The next second, tears welled up in his eyes.
Sure enough, the wicked stepfather wasn’t that kind-hearted—he was just finding another way to humiliate him!
The little one wore an expression of enduring hardship, but Fu Cen mistakenly thought he was moved to tears. Considering the original host’s past behavior, it was no wonder that just cooking a bowl of noodles would make Gugu unable to hold back his tears.
Fu Cen’s heart softened once again like spring soil. He spoke gently, “If you like it, eat more.”
Shen Sigu: “…”
Clenching his teeth, he chewed through the unevenly thick dough pieces, even tasting some that were too thick and still raw inside. The little one really didn’t want to swallow, and the tears in his eyes grew even more intense. Choking up, he cried out, “Daddy Fu Cen, you eat too.”
His mouth was full of dough pieces he couldn’t swallow.
Fu Cen radiated the glorious aura of great fatherly love: “Daddy won’t eat. You eat, little one.”
Shen Sigu: So devastated.
While cooking the noodles earlier, Fu Cen had already silently decided: the little one still had psychological trauma toward him, so it wasn’t appropriate for him to stay by his side. Moreover, the identity he had transmigrated into was at the center of the story’s storm—the job was not only a 007 schedule but also highly dangerous. Fu Cen didn’t want to get entangled in the conflicts of the original story.
After cooking this farewell bowl of noodles for the little one, he would leave this place.
Having made up his mind, Fu Cen’s expression grew even more benevolent. Seeing how happily the child was eating, he went downstairs to ask the night-shift servant for the private doctor’s number. After mentally preparing himself, he called the doctor and asked him to come check on the little one.
After all, he had been outside all day—there was a fear that he might have caught a chill.
When Fu Cen returned to the little one’s room with a cup of warm milk, the large bowl in front of the child was already completely empty. The little one sat obediently on the stool, looking at Fu Cen.
No matter how many tricks the wicked stepfather had, he had one more to counter them!
Seeing the empty porcelain bowl, not even a drop of broth left, Fu Cen was surprised for a moment: “You ate so fast? That could cause indigestion.”
The little one shook his head, secretly pleased, his eyes darting a glance toward the bathroom. That foolish stepfather would never guess where all those food scraps had gone.
Better to starve to death than eat slop!
However, before the little one could revel in his triumph for long, the private doctor arrived at the mansion. Accompanied by an assistant, he gave Shen Sigu a full-body checkup and administered a shot in the buttocks. Instantly, the little one lay limp and motionless on the bed.
That wicked stepfather had no sense of honor!
After collecting the medicine from the doctor and instructing the servants to administer it to the young master on time and in the correct dosage, Fu Cen returned to find Shen Sigu lying on the bed, pretending to sleep in a huff.
The edge of the bed dipped under added weight, and a warm hand gently touched his forehead. The little one’s eyelashes fluttered, but he didn’t open his eyes.
He feared the next move would be his stepfather yanking him up and forbidding him to sleep—after all, the matter of him playing all day instead of standing in punishment wasn’t over yet.
But the hand simply moved to the top of his head, gently ruffling his hair.
Under the covers, the entire little body stiffened.
His father had never patted his head, and the servants didn’t dare overstep their bounds. Shen Sigu had often watched other children at kindergarten having their heads patted with envy, but he was a positive and optimistic little one—even if he felt envious, he never showed it on his face.
The stepfather’s sudden tenderness left Shen Sigu at a loss, but his small body unexpectedly relaxed under the gentle strokes.
Only after the lights in the room were turned off and the sound of the door closing echoed did Shen Sigu suddenly sit up, his delicate little eyebrows tightly furrowed.
At the same time, the night-duty servant received a call from the secretary, informing her that the president would be returning to rest that night.
This was the first time President Shen would be staying overnight since bringing the male wife home. Auntie Wang, after responding, thought to herself that the wife would probably be very happy to hear this news.
However, just as she was about to knock on the door, the socially anxious person inside, who was hastily packing a suitcase, had already heard the footsteps. Quick as lightning, he snapped off the light.
Already asleep, do not disturb!
Author’s Note:
Fu Cen: What decent person wants to be a 9-to-5 corporate drone?
A certain president: ?