Chapter 45 - Parallel Lines

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Chapter 45

 

 

Taotie was clearly pleased with his answer. His lips brushed lightly over Serg's flushed cheek—somewhere between a kiss and a soft lick. Though the gesture resembled his usual displays of affection, it felt strangely different, making Serg shy to his core.

 

It seemed Taotie had been restraining himself for a long time. Though Serg had already felt as if he were being "tasted" before, this time, the intensity was unparalleled. Though it was just a touch of the lips, his eagerness resembled someone ready to devour a freshly baked pastry.

 

Serg cleared his throat softly, and Taotie halted immediately. Warm breath washed over the sensitive side of his neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

 

"Taotie! Now's not the time for snacking!" Migu's cheeks were flushed a bright red. As an onlooker, the scene had her blushing and her heart pounding—she was on the verge of bolting from the room.

 

There were no overtly inappropriate actions; everything happened through clothes or with kisses to non-sensitive areas. But why did it still feel so sensual? She should really ask Taotie for some tips.

 

"Hmm?" Taotie let out a dissatisfied hum. One hand remained on Serg's waist, gently stroking, while the other took hold of his braided, waist-length hair. He deftly removed the hair tie, and his strong fingers began to slowly comb through the strands.

 

"Ugh, you're doing this on purpose!" Migu pouted, adjusting her slipping glasses and batting her doe-like eyes. "What about Qingji? Are you really going to let him go after Tengshe and Sara?"

 

"Sara..." Taotie sighed, his tone laced with disinterest. Serg could hear the apathy in his voice. "Migu, I have no interest in dealing with Sara. Maybe I should just let Qingji catch her and give her a good spanking."

 

"Oh, come on! Qingji wouldn't stop at just a spanking—you should be the one doing it." Migu stuck out her tongue, a giggle slipping out. "All this over those winter-exclusive cream scones? How long are you going to stay mad at Sara? And what about Tengshe? Aren't you worried about him?"

 

"Are you?" Taotie's calm question hung in the air. Migu pushed up her glasses, her little nose wrinkling.

 

"Fine! I'm not worried. If Grandpa wants him to inherit the position of family head, then he has to prove his worth." She pulled a silly face at Taotie, her small hands idly fidgeting with the objects on the table. "But... I don't want anyone to get hurt."

 

"Zhuque's dog is already dead." Taotie's voice remained indifferent, almost dismissive, as if mentioning a mundane fact. Serg shivered slightly; he didn't like it.

 

Sensing his reaction, Taotie's lips moved to the temples hidden beneath Serg's loose hair, delivering two gentle touches. Serg's body trembled again, and he lowered his gaze, his face burning. He didn't dare meet Migu's knowing smirk.

 

"Taotie, both Peter and I share the same concern—Qingji isn't just after Tengshe." Celine's expression remained mostly impassive, save for a slight hint of disapproval at Taotie's fond treatment of Serg. Her strikingly beautiful face otherwise remained unreadable.

 

"I think so too!" Migu pouted, clearly upset at being left out.

 

"Yes, my master feels the same." Celine's reply was perfunctory, not even bothering to look Migu's way. "Taotie, if we can't track down Qingji's whereabouts, it could pose a danger to everyone."

 

"Are you trying to find him?" Serg's voice was still a bit hoarse. Taotie was idly playing with the ends of his hair, keeping him on edge.

 

He couldn't deny he was worried Taotie might just... well... have his "snack" right here and now. He wasn't sure if he was entirely opposed to it. Though he'd had one or two relationships in the past, back in his home country, he'd been forced into an encounter with a young girl at the age of thirteen—a traditional expectation he hadn't been able to defy. The experience had been nothing but painful.

 

An innocent girl had given away her most precious first time to something so meaningless. Back then, he was too young, too powerless to resist tradition. As a result, he had never been able to develop a true "physical" relationship with anyone—it always made him uncomfortable. Except for Shuai Zhaomin, who had once made him feel the desire to embrace someone.

 

"Yes, but we've exhausted all our methods and still haven't found any trace of Qingji," Celine admitted, surprised by Serg's offer. She hesitated for a few seconds before raising a delicate brow.

 

"Would you let me help?" Serg had his own channels and methods. In the past, he hadn't liked revealing this side of himself to Shuai Zhaomin, but now he was offering it up freely. Why?

 

"This..." Celine hesitated, her beautifully groomed brows knitting together. "I apologize—it's not that I doubt you, Mr. Serg. But if even Peter couldn't find him, I just..."

 

Taotie slowly raised the hand resting on Serg's waist, signaling Celine to stop. "What do you need?"

 

"A photo of Mr. Qingji, a computer, and a scanner." With the reduced physical contact, Serg noticeably relaxed.

 

"Understood. Vito."

 

"Yes, Master." Vito's bright, cheerful response was accompanied by his bouncing steps forward. His vivid blue eyes shimmered with a thin veil of moisture, and Serg understood how emotional he must be feeling right now.

 

No matter how long this fragile peace might last, simply being by Taotie's side meant a complete world for Vito.

 

"Young Master Taotie, I don't think this is necessary." Celine's voice rose slightly. Her fingers tapped the table with a sharp rhythm. "Master, please talk some sense into Young Master Taotie."

 

"Ah... Oh..." Suddenly addressed, Migu scratched her chestnut hair, blinking her big, doe-like eyes in confusion as she looked left and right. "It's fine. The chocolate pie won't cause any trouble."

 

"Master!" Celine couldn't hold back anymore, shouting in frustration, while Serg wished he could disappear—especially with Taotie's soft chuckle behind him and Vito laughing so hard he clutched his stomach.

 

"Huh? D-Did I say something wrong?" Feeling wronged by the outburst, Migu pouted and shrank into the corner of the table with no dignity at all. "Finding him is good, but if we don't, it's not a big deal, right? After all, if even Peter couldn't find him, it's not like Qingji could just show up here looking for us."

 

"Master! I object to involving a civilian!" Celine glared, her finger jabbing furiously at Migu's wrinkled little nose, her voice booming.

 

"But... But Mr. Serg isn't a civilian! He's—"

 

"Even if he were Rosaline's nut cake, it wouldn't matter!" Celine slammed her hand down on the table. The entire piece of furniture groaned and jumped on the floor.

 

"It's chocolate." Taotie's calm voice cut through the shouting, so clear that Serg felt an overwhelming urge to turn around and clamp his hand over Taotie's mouth.

 

"Young Master Taotie, whether he's chocolate or a nut cake, Mr. Serg is still a civilian! You wouldn't want your lover in danger, would you?" Celine, dressed head-to-toe in red like a fierce little chili pepper, spun around and pointed at Taotie's brow, shouting loudly.

 

"Are you my lover?" Uh... Serg's head drooped, too flustered to answer such a direct question.

 

"Master, Mr. Serg is shy. You're being too blunt." Vito stepped in to defuse the situation. Taotie nodded slowly, his gray eyes wandering the ceiling, completely ignoring Celine's angry outburst.

 

"No! It has nothing to do with desserts! Celine, how could you look down on me? I'm the master!" Migu stomped her foot in displeasure, but the action only led to her ankle catching on the table leg. She staggered backward, sending the entire table crashing to the floor with a heavy thud.

 

"Master!" Celine cried out, lunging forward to catch the petite figure before she could hit the soup pot on the stove. The table landed with a mournful groan.

 

After a whirlwind of chaos, the dining room fell abruptly silent. The guilty Migu scratched her cheek and buried her face in Celine's shoulder. Taotie's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, his eyes moving lazily, showing no interest in the fate of the fallen table.

 

"What a disaster." The eerie silence was finally broken by a refined, restrained voice, laced with a touch of mocking laughter. Migu, perched on Celine's shoulder, shivered, her small frame wriggling as if wanting to disappear.

 

"Peter! Please, speak to Young Master Taotie!" Celine looked as though she had seen her savior, nearly bursting into applause.

 

"Young Master Taotie, I apologize on behalf of our master for any inconvenience caused." The man in the crisp white shirt and black suit bowed deeply, his black hair impeccably neat. His English was flawless, devoid of any accent.

 

"No. She is a trial*." Taotie's drifting gray eyes settled on the man, and Serg could feel Taotie's body subtly tensing.

 

[T/N: In the biblical sense. Haha, I can't. :')]

 

"Peter, I object to involving a civilian." Celine had no patience for pleasantries, her hands firmly keeping Migu from shrinking any further.

 

"Master, are you feeling cold?" The man's gentle but firm gaze landed on the curled-up gray fluffball. His thin lips curved into a polite smile as he asked softly.

 

A different kind of pressure than Taotie's... That was Serg's first impression. Taotie's presence was like a void, an oppressive black hole. The man before him, however, was a suffocating warmth, bright yet stifling.

 

"No, I… I'm actually hot. Hehehe… Peter…" Realizing she couldn't hide, Migu peeked out from behind Celine's shoulder. Her glasses had slipped to the tip of her nose, and she squinted, offering Peter a silly grin.

 

"Master, I have reminded you many times: please remove your coat when you come indoors."

 

"Peter! That's not the point! Help me stop Master and Young Master Taotie!" Celine pounded the counter with a sharp thud. Migu, now struggling out of her coat, mumbled petulantly behind her.

 

"We are lovers, right?" Unfazed by the chaotic trio, Taotie's strong fingers slid across Serg's cheek, brushing aside a stray lock of hair and tucking it gently behind his ear. His question was followed by a feather-light kiss on his earlobe.

 

Was this a change of topic? Serg felt even more at a loss, lowering his head but unable to avoid the curious gazes around him.

 

"Yes? No?" Taotie's voice remained serene, tinged with a faint emptiness. And, as always, Serg found himself unable to answer, reduced to a dry cough and nothing more.

 

"That's not the point! Young Master Taotie, even if Mr. Serg isn't your lover, even if he's just a nut cake, it's still not okay!"

 

"It's chocolate." Taotie's tireless correction only seemed to fuel Celine's rage further.

 

No, he should be considered a person, shouldn't he?... Sigh...

 

"Mr. Sergi bin Lama Muhammad, is that right? I've heard of you." Being called by his full name by a stranger put Serg immediately on guard.

 

His deep, beautiful black eyes met Peter's polite yet mocking gaze, his brows knitting slightly. "No, I'm just a nobody..."

 

"That's what I've been saying! Mr. Serg is a prince! The prince from that small Arab nation who was so close with Grandpa!" Finally regaining her voice, Migu waved her hands excitedly. "I never forget a face! We met once when we were kids!"

 

Serg drew in a sharp breath, but Taotie showed no reaction.

 

"Taotie, Taotie! Don't you remember? Back then, you were already sucking on Mr. Serg's fingers!"

 

"Hmm..." Taotie's fingers, which had been toying with Serg's hair, slipped into his palm, gently kneading his soft skin. "Did that really happen?"

 

Not only did Taotie not remember—Serg himself had no recollection. He had only traveled abroad with his father before the age of three and hadn't left the country again until he renounced his inheritance.

 

"I never forget what I see!" Migu pouted, shouting indignantly.

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