Chapter 43 - The Supporting Villain Is Raising a Cub Online

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"But Mr. He, Lamb Testicle Soup Really—"

 

 

He Mingyu, with his refined upbringing, couldn't hold his ground against Tan Qing's shamelessness.

 

In the end, he had no choice but to bend down, allowing this shameless "heavy load" to leap onto him like a sloth clinging to a tree. Tan Qing swayed slightly, then sweetly leaned toward He Mingyu's ear, exhaling softly and mischievously whispering, "Daddy, let's go!"

 

He Mingyu: "..."

 

Tan Qing's breath tickled He Mingyu's neck, but it wasn't just his neck that felt the sensation. It was as though the itch spread from deep within his bones, touching his very core.

 

Tan Qing, being his usual mischievous self, wriggled on He Mingyu's back, glancing left and right, his smooth, bare legs wrapped around him. From He Mingyu's lowered angle, he could see Tan Qing's feet, bare and without even socks.

 

Tan Qing's skin was pale, and naturally, his feet were the same. Unlike the feet of many, which are misshapen from wearing shoes too often, Tan Qing's toes were delicately white, with each bone finely shaped, leaving no trace of excess flesh.

 

He Mingyu found himself staring at them for several moments before awkwardly looking away.

 

Meanwhile, Tan Qing, riding high on He Mingyu's back, was enjoying his sense of superiority, entirely oblivious to He Mingyu's inner turmoil. After waiting for a while without his "human cart" moving, Tan Qing squeezed his legs in curiosity and urged, "Start driving already!"

 

To get a better grip, Tan Qing leaned forward, pressing himself even closer to He Mingyu. The two were now practically glued together.

 

Through Tan Qing's thin pajamas, He Mingyu could even feel the shape of that between Tan Qing's legs. That little thing, thanks to its unruly owner's movements, rubbed against He Mingyu's back—half-soft, half-hard, thoroughly shameless.

 

Late at night, a man is least resistant to teasing.

 

He Mingyu took a deep breath, subconsciously checking the looseness of his robe. After double-checking, he finally felt relieved. He reached out, placing his hand on Tan Qing's backside. "Stop squirming. You're not even wearing underwear?"

 

Tan Qing, of course, paid no mind. He happily wriggled a couple more times on He Mingyu's back, raising his head and declaring, "I don't wear them! They're so tight and uncomfortable, they'll stop my little bird from growing."

 

He Mingyu: "..."

 

Carrying his load, He Mingyu silently walked out of Little Jiji's room, carefully closing the door behind him. "When I took elective medical courses abroad, the professor emphasized to us three times that male reproductive development is pretty much set by age eighteen."

 

At this sudden blow of bad news, Tan Qing's heart sank.

 

He slumped against He Mingyu's shoulder, pitifully blowing a sad bubble from his nose. "Waaah, does this mean Qingqing will never become the biggest and longest in the world…?"

 

Before He Mingyu could respond, they ran into the housekeeper, who had just finished tidying up the kitchen and bathroom and was heading to her room to sleep.

 

He Mingyu: "..."

 

Housekeeper: "..."

 

Usually, He Mingyu took care of Little Jiji himself, while the housekeeper was only responsible for washing dishes and cleaning. He Mingyu had always been serious and proper, exuding an air of distance that even Lin Yu, who drove him to and from work, approached with the utmost respect.

 

In the two-plus months the housekeeper had worked here, this was the first time she had ever seen anyone act so… playfully with He Mingyu.

 

The awkwardness hung heavy in the air.

 

The housekeeper, wiping her hands on a cloth she had tucked into her apron, glanced at Tan Qing and hesitantly offered, "Mr. Tan, there's no need to worry too much… Back in my village, the men love drinking lamb testicle soup. I could make you a couple of bowls tomorrow; you could give it a try?"

 

Instantly, a hopeful light flickered in Tan Qing's previously desolate eyes.

 

He lifted his head from He Mingyu's shoulder, gazing longingly at the housekeeper. "Really?!"

 

The housekeeper nodded quickly. "Really, really, you—"

 

"Fake."

 

He Mingyu coldly interrupted their conversation, adjusting his grip on Tan Qing's backside and lifting him a bit higher. Without mercy, he added, "You'll be twenty-one in a few months. You've already hit your limit. Time to sleep."

 

Tan Qing: "..."

 

The housekeeper paused. "But Mr. He, lamb testicle soup really—"

 

He Mingyu's gaze swept over her, cool and indifferent. "Really?"

 

Housekeeper: "..."

 

The housekeeper cast a sympathetic glance at Tan Qing, then reluctantly shook her head. "Mr. He, you're absolutely right. There's no way Mr. Tan's will ever grow again. Not in this lifetime!"

 

Tan Qing: "..."

 

Tan Qing, still pouting, was carried all the way back to the master bedroom by He Mingyu.

 

He Mingyu's apartment originally had five bedrooms, all about the same size. However, since he'd merged his master bedroom with the adjacent study, it appeared more spacious than the others.

 

The décor of the bedroom mirrored that of the living room, where Tan Qing had first moved in: a huanghuali wood chair, an ebony desk, and most striking of all, a large ink painting hanging behind the desk in the study.

 

He Mingyu set Tan Qing down on the bed and, seeing those white, delicate feet swinging aimlessly, grabbed a pair of brand-new socks he hadn't worn and knelt down to put them on Tan Qing's feet.

 

The socks were several sizes too big for Tan Qing. Once on, a large space gaped between his toes and the ends of the socks, making them look like the sleeves of a costume too long for the wearer.

 

Tan Qing began swinging his feet even more vigorously, singing as he did: "A man who shuns his vows, seeks a new embrace; In shadows dark, he slaughters his wife and child, his conscience erased…"*

 

[T/N: This line "悔婚男兒招東床，殺妻滅子良心喪" is from the Chinese opera 《鍘美案》. In the opera, the line reflects the central conflict surrounding 陳世美 (Chen Shimei), a character who, after achieving success and wealth, betrays his wife 秦香蓮 (Qin Xianglian), who had supported him throughout his struggles. After marrying into wealth and power, he forgets his past and the sacrifices his wife made for him, leading him to deny her and their children.]

 

He Mingyu: "..."

 

Liao Xian, He Mingyu's mother, was a national-level opera performer who had studied in J City. From a young age, He Mingyu had often listened to her early morning vocal exercises, so a few famous Peking opera lines were etched into his memory.

 

This particular one was about scolding a heartless lover.

 

He Mingyu changed into his pajamas in the walk-in closet and came back out. He glanced at Tan Qing and raised an eyebrow: "Stopped singing?"

 

Tan Qing immediately sat up obediently, crossing his legs and raising two slender, pale fingers: "I only know two lines."

 

He Mingyu gave him a look and calmly said, "That's perfect. My mom specializes in that. If you're interested, she can teach you sometime."

 

Tan Qing: "..."

 

Tan Qing quickly burrowed under the covers, wrapping himself up tightly, leaving only two bare buttocks peeking out from beneath the blanket. From underneath, a muffled voice refused, "No, no, I don't like learning opera."

 

He had learned those two lines back when he was in the mountains cultivating, overhearing heartbroken girls sing them outside his cave after being tricked by scoundrels.

 

He Mingyu pulled Tan Qing out from under the blanket and tugged down his robe to cover his exposed backside. "Go brush your teeth and wash your face. Only when you are clean can you sleep."

 

Tan Qing sighed, "Okay..."

 

He jumped off the bed, his oversized grey cotton socks slapping against the floor as he padded toward the bathroom inside the bedroom.

 

The entrance to the study was right next to the bathroom sink.

 

As Tan Qing shuffled to the bathroom door, he suddenly poked his head out and glanced into He Mingyu's study.

 

Then, curious, he turned back and asked, "Hey, is that a wutong tree* in the painting in your study?"

 

[T/N: The wu-tong tree is native to China and Japan, and is regarded as the tree par excellence, favoured by the phoenix when it wishes to alight. For this reason it often used to be planted in courtyards in the hope that a phoenix would come and bring luck to the whole family.]

 

He Mingyu, who was texting Lin Yu to push tomorrow morning's meeting to the afternoon, glanced toward the study at Tan Qing's question. "You recognize it?"

 

Ink wash painting, with its emphasis on spirit rather than form, was difficult for the untrained eye to interpret, except for very iconic subjects like peonies or plum blossoms. Trees with large green leaves, like this one, were rarely immediately recognizable to a layperson.

 

And Tan Qing usually didn't seem like someone with any knowledge of the arts.

 

Tan Qing tilted his head, looking at the painting again. He even read the calligraphy inscribed by He Mingyu: "Of course, I recognize it. The phoenix rests in the wutong tree, right? This is that tree."

 

Tan Qing mischievously added, gesturing dramatically, "Let me tell you something. Even though the tree looks ugly, it burns really well. Keeps you super warm in winter—the fire's huge."

 

It had supplied his firewood for an entire winter.

 

He Mingyu: "..."

 

He Mingyu glanced at his watch and raised his wrist. "Ten minutes. If you're not done by then, you're sleeping in the study tonight."

 

Tan Qing bolted into the bathroom. "No, no, no! I'll be out in one minute!"

 

True to his word, he emerged in just over a minute, hopping barefoot back into He Mingyu's bed.

 

The bed was spacious enough, but unfortunately, He Mingyu had spread two comforters across it.

 

And he steadfastly refused to let Tan Qing crawl under his blanket.

 

Tan Qing, now annoyed, rolled left and right, wrapping himself up into a fox-like cocoon. Poking his head out from the covers, he seriously reminded He Mingyu, "It's time for a bedtime story."

 

He Mingyu: "..."

 

Relentless, Tan Qing pulled one paw out of the cocoon, making a clawing motion. "Three stories."

 

He Mingyu sighed and had no choice but to turn on the bedside lamp. He picked up the children's book from the desk, flipping to a random page. "A long time ago in Egypt, there was a fox who loved to eat grapes..."

 

"Foxes don't eat grapes."

 

Tan Qing wiggled further up in bed, correcting seriously, "If a fox eats grapes, it'll get a stomachache."

 

He Mingyu glanced at him, sighed again, and flipped to another page, starting over. "There was once a merchant..."

 

But before he could even finish the third sentence, Tan Qing had already obediently closed his eyes, his breathing soft and steady as he drifted off into sleep.

 

Long, curled lashes rested against his cheeks as he lay turned toward He Mingyu, lips gently pressed together, looking peaceful and serene.

 

He Mingyu quietly placed the book back on the bedside table and softly called, "Tan Qing."

 

Maybe because he was fast asleep, the pair of striking eyes that usually drew all attention were closed, allowing his other equally beautiful features to take the spotlight.

 

His lips, a deep shade of red, his straight nose, and delicately arched brows.

 

He Mingyu reached out, gently brushing away the stray hairs that had fallen across Tan Qing's forehead, and called again, "Tan Qing?"

 

Tan Qing slept sweetly, looking harmless and innocent.

 

He Mingyu hesitated for a long moment.

 

Then, he leaned down slightly and brushed his lips against Tan Qing's.

 

So soft.

 

Though He Mingyu didn't consider himself a particularly upstanding gentleman, he had never done something so... improper.

 

He felt a wave of self-reproach.

 

But ten seconds of self-reproach later, He Mingyu leaned down again and kissed Tan Qing once more.

 

It felt really nice.

 

In that instant, his self-reproach shrank from ten seconds to merely one.

 

As He Mingyu leaned in for a third kiss, Tan Qing's eyes suddenly opened. With a pitiful expression, he dodged He Mingyu's lips and mumbled, "Mmm... Are you going to do something or not? The books all say that men who only kiss but don't do anything are scoundrels."

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