Chapter 2 - The Supporting Villain Is Raising a Cub Online

Translator's Note:

Hello, I hope you've all been doing well.

Here you go, and I wish you a good read.

And, as I said before, if you wish to read ahead, you can head over to my Patreon to get early access to all the translated chapters.

He Mingyu's son is in my hands!

 

Selling a kid might sound simple, but putting it into practice was a bit tricky.

 

The hardest part? Setting a price.

 

Also, it is said that human trafficking is illegal in human society, and he had no intention of ending up in jail.

 

After finishing off the baby formula meant for the little one, Tan Qing smacked his lips and nimbly jumped down from the kitchen windowsill.

 

He thought long and hard—perhaps the best course of action would be to sell the teary, clueless little brat to his real father.

 

Even though ever since Tan Qing's failed tribulation that zapped him into this book, he hadn't met the protagonist of the novel, who was none other than the father of the brat—Mr. He Mingyu.

 

Sigh.

 

If he had known his tribulation would fail, he would've done it sooner and gotten struck by lightning earlier.

 

Maybe then he could have entered the book at just the right moment, while the original host and He Mingyu were still tangled up in bed.

 

After all, a man who can hit the mark in one try must possess an exceptionally attractive physique and remarkable abilities."

 

The more Tan Qing thought about it, the more annoyed he became. With a face full of sorrow, he shook the now-empty bottle he had just drained and set about boiling more water to make another batch for the kid.

 

As the water bubbled away in the kettle, Tan Qing's phone rang.

 

One hand turned off the stove while the other fished the phone out of his pocket. He glanced at the caller ID.

 

His agent—Zhao Cong.

 

This was rare. Ever since Tan Qing had been kicked out of the company following the scandal of seducing He Mingyu, Zhao Cong hadn't shown him a single friendly face.

 

Especially after finding out that Tan Qing had taken up a side gig selling trinkets at the night market—the look in his eyes practically said it all.

 

Tan Qing mixed the hot water into the formula and answered the phone at the same time, "Hey there, Zhao bro, good evening! You eaten yet?"

 

On the other end of the line, Zhao Cong frowned, "Seriously, Tan Qing, you've only been at that night market stall for a few days, and just listen to the way you talk now!"

 

Tan Qing felt rather wronged. This casual greeting was something he had learned specifically from a local guidebook, "What's wrong with it?"

 

Zhao Cong said, "You're an idol! Do you even remember what an idol is supposed to represent after all that training?"

 

Seeing that Tan Qing didn't reply, Zhao Cong continued, "Don't remember? Let me remind you—idols are supposed to be ethereal beings, untouchable by the mortal world, sipping dew and divine nectar, and never needing a restroom! Got it now?"

 

Tan Qing: "..."

 

Oh wow.

 

Except for the fact that he hadn't reached the level of not needing a restroom yet, the rest actually wasn't too far off from his old life.

 

But honestly, dew and divine nectar couldn't compare to spicy crayfish.

 

So Tan Qing, torn, replied, "Brother Zhao, are you calling to ask me to go back and be your little fairy?"

 

Zhao Cong snorted, "Tan Qing, are you still dreaming? A fairy? Have you forgotten about climbing into Chairman He's bed?"

 

Fine.

 

Tan Qing figured this conversation wasn't going to end anytime soon.

 

Feeling tired of standing, he hopped up onto the kitchen counter and slowly unfurled his nine fluffy white tails, absentmindedly smoothing them out one by one. "Brother Zhao, let me remind you… that bed incident was almost a year ago…"

 

Even the cub was already born.

 

"But it only got exposed two months ago!" Zhao Cong's tone dripped with disdain. "Tan Qing, let me tell you something. Once you've done something, you have to own up to it—especially when it involves He Mingyu, the head of the entire He family. Can we really afford to offend him?"

 

Tan Qing twisted three of his tails into the shape of an SB (Stupid Bitch) and lamented, "Of course I know. I've already paid dearly for it, nearly going bankrupt. All that's left to sell is myself."

 

That last sentence was exactly what Zhao Cong was waiting for.

 

He had managed Tan Qing for over four years, from his teens to adulthood. From his debut up to now, he'd released music singles and starred in countless films.

 

But in the end, this person was like mud that just wouldn't stick to the wall.*

 

[T/N: It conveys the idea that the person is beyond help or improvement, incapable of achieving anything substantial, no matter how much effort is made.]

 

Yet, Tan Qing had a face that was simply too stunning—rosy lips, seductive eyes. No matter where he stood, he was a spotlight all on his own.

 

Whenever he was around, the other artists, Zhao managed, would fade into the background.

 

And in an industry where resources were already scarce…

 

Driven by his own dark, selfish motives, Zhao Cong had stopped offering Tan Qing any prime opportunities.

 

What puzzled him was that Tan Qing had never once come to him begging for work.

 

Until the scandal of Tan Qing climbing into He Mingyu's bed exploded.

 

The heavy burden of breach-of-contract penalties had crushed Tan Qing.

 

Zhao Cong's expression darkened as he spoke again, "The company's year-end audit found you still owe some unpaid fees from a product endorsement. The amount isn't huge—about six hundred thousand."

 

Tan Qing pitifully said, "Brother Zhao, I only make a hundred bucks a night at the night market."

 

Zhao Cong: "…"

 

He couldn't, for the life of him, understand why Tan Qing insisted on working at that night market stall. After a deep breath, Zhao Cong forced a tone of concern, "How about this—you come by the company tomorrow, and we'll have dinner with the advertisers to sort it out. If it's really tough, the company will think of something to help. Sound good?"

 

What choice did he have?

 

Tan Qing yawned lazily and hung up the phone, bottle in hand, wandering out of the kitchen.

 

On the wooden bed, the little brat had already learned to sit up on his own. He was chewing on his hand while staring at Tan Qing. "Pa…pa…drink…pa…"

 

Tan Qing stuffed the bottle into the kid's hand. "Do it yourself. You reap what you sow."

 

The weak, pitiful, and helpless little one didn't understand what that meant. He simply stared at Tan Qing with his big, innocent, and beautiful eyes.

 

Unfortunately, Tan Qing, with equally beautiful eyes, wasn't moved.

 

The kid pouted, on the verge of tears, but then remembered the bottle in his hand.

 

After a moment's hesitation, he decided to cling to the bottle and started drinking.

 

Being so little, he soon fell asleep while drinking.

 

Tan Qing gently pulled the bottle out of the kid's hand and set it on the table.

 

Then, as if a thought suddenly struck him, he sneakily lifted the blanket, peeking at the little one's smooth, chubby bottom.

 

Sure enough.

 

Bare. Not a single tail.

 

Tan Qing tucked the blanket back around the kid and, lying back on the big bed with his legs crossed, thought angrily:

 

—Damn it.

 

—It's been over a month and still no tail. That lousy father's genes must be seriously lacking.

 

Clearly, selling him back was the best option.

 

Determined to get rid of the little burden as soon as possible, Tan Qing got up bright and early the next morning and headed to his former turf…

 

Or rather, his former employer.

 

The company's name was Shengjing Entertainment.

 

Two years ago, the old chairman had stepped down, and the company was now run by his young and charismatic son, Rong Sheng.

 

Rumor had it that Rong Sheng and He Mingyu were childhood friends, so close that even when Shengjing Entertainment was founded, the He family had invested in it.

 

Ah, the evils of capitalism.

 

Tan Qing, with a backpack slung over his shoulders, stood at the reception desk, grinning as he flirted with the two receptionists. "You two are looking prettier than ever!"

 

After that scandal about Tan Qing seducing He Mingyu, his reputation had plummeted. The receptionists were anything but warm: "Are you here to see Zhao Cong? He's in his office."

 

Completely oblivious to the cold treatment, Tan Qing shook his head. "No, I'm here to see the President. Is he in?"

 

The two receptionists exchanged glances. "If you don't have an appointment, we're not allowed to disclose Mr. Rong's whereabouts."

 

Tan Qing nodded understandingly. "Oh, okay. Could you help me call him? I'd like to make an appointment now."

 

After some hesitation, one of the receptionists picked up the phone but ultimately shook her head at Tan Qing. "Sorry, Mr. Rong says he's unavailable."

 

Tan Qing pouted, pretending to be disappointed. "Oh… Well, can you tell him that He Mingyu's son is with me? And if no one claims him, I'll sell him to human traffickers!"

 

Receptionist: "???"

 

The two receptionists were so startled they fumbled with the phone, quickly dialing again.

 

This time, after hanging up, they addressed Tan Qing with far more warmth. "Mr. Rong will see you now."

 

Tan Qing adjusted his backpack and turned toward the elevator, but before he could take a step, one of the receptionists timidly asked, "Um… does He Mingyu really have a son?"

 

Tan Qing paused, then flashed a grin. "Of course not, I made that up to mess with Rong Sheng."

 

Receptionist: "..."

 

Tan Qing added, "But I did notice you didn't even dial the phone the first time."

 

Receptionist: "..."

 

Tan Qing smiled mischievously. "You know, Pinocchio from the fairy tales says that if you lie too much, your nose will grow."

 

Before the receptionists could get any angrier, Tan Qing had already stepped into the glass elevator.

 

Rong Sheng's assistant was waiting for him and led Tan Qing directly into the President's office.

 

The moment the door opened, Tan Qing saw Rong Sheng pinning a beautiful woman on the desk, seemingly ready to share an intimate moment.

 

Even though they were interrupted, Rong Sheng didn't seem upset. He helped the woman stand up, whispered a few sweet nothings into her ear, making her blush and smile, before she strutted out in her high heels.

 

She even paused beside Tan Qing for a moment, giving him a suggestive look before sauntering away with swaying hips.

 

Tan Qing: "..."

 

Rong Sheng stretched lazily and leaned back in his large chair, giving Tan Qing a pointed look. "You know her?"

 

Tan Qing nodded. "Oh yeah, He Mingyu's son loves watching her kids' show."

 

Rong Sheng: "..."

 

In all his life, Rong Sheng had never been stumped like that. After a sip of water, he said, "Tan Qing, are you messing with me? I grew up with He Mingyu. If he had a son, I'd know about it."

 

Tan Qing thought for a moment. "Can I call He Mingyu?"

 

Rong Sheng: "Go ahead."

 

Tan Qing replied sincerely, "But I don't have his number. Not the public one—his private number. Could you call him for me?"

 

Rong Sheng: "..."

 

Sighing, Rong Sheng pulled out his phone and dialed. He handed it to Tan Qing with a wave. "It's connected."

 

On the other end, He Mingyu's voice was low and cold. "Rong Sheng?"

 

Tan Qing took the phone, forming a playful heart shape with his hands toward Rong Sheng. "Hello, He Mingyu? It's me, Tan Qing."

 

He Mingyu: "..."

 

After a long, frosty silence, He Mingyu's voice dripped with ice. "Tan Qing, what are you up to this time?"

 

Tan Qing, completely unfazed by the chill in his tone, rolled his eyes playfully. "Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to ask if I could borrow some money. Not much—just a million!"

 

Author's Note: Mini-theater

Rong Sheng: I thought the penalty fee was only 600,000.

Tan Qing: Oh, the extra 400,000 is for child support. And I even gave you a discount.

He Mingyu: …Darling, I love you, but could you please stop holding the baby by the scruff of his neck?

Baby: TVT

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