Chapter 124: If You Want Something, You Have to Speak Up
Not even half a cup of tea’s time after Feng Shi finished speaking, there was indeed movement at the door once more.
Just by the sound of the footsteps, Feng Shi knew it was Shen Songhe.
Even though the other party was intentionally concealing his presence, to Feng Shi, the sound was as clear as if he were carrying a loudspeaker, amplified tenfold as it reached his ears.
[Host, you’re a genius! He really came!]
Feng Shi raised an eyebrow noncommittally, his mind whirling as a wicked smirk curled onto his lips.
A ball of pure white spiritual energy overflowed from his hand, striking into the air. He then drew a talisman, ignited it, and tossed it forward.
With a flash of golden light, the cluster of spiritual energy transformed in the blink of an eye into a small white fox, identical to the one from before—so lifelike that every single strand of fur was visible.
Feng Shi pulled the fox over, cradling it in his arms as he smoothed its fur. He chuckled, “Not bad, not bad at all. It’s a perfect imitation.”
Qingqing, realizing his intentions, clicked its tongue in admiration.
[Host, you’re so wicked!]
Feng Shi chuckled.
As the saying goes, if the Shixiong isn’t a little bad, the Shidi won’t fall in love.
Even though Shen Songhe was only fifteen right now, fifteen was precisely the age when one’s heart first begins to stir. Teasing him a bit was fine; it was better than watching him and feeling his own heart itch.
While Feng Shi was thinking this, Shen Songhe had already reached the door.
He hurriedly closed his eyes and lay back down, tucking the fox made of spiritual energy into the quilt to cuddle it.
To any outsider, it would look like a picture of pure, mutual affection.
However, Feng Shi waited for a full quarter of an hour—long enough that he was actually starting to drift off—before the door was finally, gently pushed open.
Shen Songhe entered carrying a pot of warm tea. At a glance, he saw the man and the fox on the bed, looking inseparable.
In that instant, he looked as though he wanted to grind his teeth into dust. He even forgot to keep walking, freezing rooted to the spot.
Sensing the boy was stuck at the entrance, Feng Shi suppressed his laughter and opened his eyes. He deliberately kept his voice low and asked indifferently, “Why have you come now?”
Shen Songhe’s heart felt sour. It took him a long moment to recover his composure. He lowered his head, his voice heavy. “I came to serve tea to Da Shixiong.”
Feng Shi observed his expression.
Mm, his expression and movements were very aloof; it seemed he was indeed angry.
But his jaw was clenched tight, and the strength in his hands was no small matter—the wooden tray looked as though it was about to be crushed…
“Oh. Come here, then.”
Feng Shi played along, making his voice a bit colder. He even went as far as to pull the little fox out from under the quilt, cradling it in his arms and stroking it with eyes full of doting affection.
Seeing this, the tray in Shen Songhe’s hands shattered soundlessly, but he secretly used his spiritual energy to force the pieces back together, maintaining its shape.
Feng Shi was howling with laughter internally, yet he continued to provoke him. “There’s no need for tea; I’m not particularly thirsty. However, you might as well come and see the new little spirit pet I’ve taken in.”
As he spoke, he lifted the little white fox and took a deep “sniff” of it, praising, “So well-behaved, so well-behaved.”
A hint of red reappeared at the corners of Shen Songhe’s eyes, yet he forced himself to say, “This spirit pet is… truly… good… looking. It… suits… Shixiong… very… well.”
Every word was squeezed through gritted teeth, and his gaze looked as though it wanted to bore a hole straight through the fox in Feng Shi’s hands.
He was clearly drowning in jealousy, yet he refused to admit it.
Feng Shi let out a scoff. “Quite right. It is indeed so.”
After speaking, he glanced at him sideways. “Did you come just to serve me tea?”
Shen Songhe knelt before the bed, his eyelashes trembling. He kept his eyes lowered, stubborn as a dead duck. “Yes.”
Hearing this, Feng Shi let out a long “Ah” and said, “Alright then. Since I’m not thirsty, why don’t you leave first?”
Shen Songhe hadn’t expected him to say that. His long, jade-white fingers suddenly clenched tight. His body went rigid, and he stared fixedly at the floor.
Feng Shi, who was watching him closely, couldn’t miss the change. He almost broke character.
But then, Shen Songhe spoke again. “I really did just come to serve tea to Shixiong.”
Feng Shi waited patiently. “Mm, yes, I know. And then?”
Shen Songhe’s chest heaved a few times, as if he were struggling with himself for a long moment before he whispered, “I definitely didn’t come to see if Shixiong really raised a little fox…”
There was a hint of grievance in that sentence.
Feng Shi’s heart softened. He simply tossed the fox aside and flipped out of bed.
The moment the fox hit the ground, it transformed into a cluster of ethereal spiritual energy, carrying a faint, familiar fragrance that Shen Songhe knew all too well.
Shen Songhe’s eyes widened slightly. He watched as the energy dissipated completely. He looked around, but where was the “fox spirit” that had been bewitching his Shixiong?
Feng Shi stepped onto the floor barefoot and helped the kneeling boy up, pulling him toward the table. “Alright, Shixiong was just teasing you.”
“I did raise a fox for a few days, but I truly just kept it as a pet to stave off boredom. I’ve already given it to your San Shixiong.”
Shen Songhe snapped out of his daze, and a wave of sheepishness followed.
But hearing those words, an irrepressible joy surged in his heart, clearing away the gloom.
Feng Shi looked at the boy’s reddened eyes and sighed inwardly. How is he so sensitive? Just a fox was enough to make him cry from anger.
He just didn’t know if this jealousy came from a fear of losing affection or if the boy’s heart had finally started to “open.”
He was raising him as a future husband, not just as a Shidi…
With that thought, Feng Shi reached out and stroked Shen Songhe’s dark, cool hair. “Be good. You know I dote on you the most. It’s one thing to have been sulking with me before, but are you really going to ignore me over a fox?”
Shen Songhe’s face flushed slightly at the remark.
He was, after all, only a fifteen or sixteen-year-old youth, not nearly as experienced as he would be a hundred years later. Whatever was on his mind was written plainly on his face, which had its own charm.
Seeing he was too embarrassed to respond, Feng Shi continued earnestly, “If you want something, you have to speak up. Only then will I understand, and only then can I give it to you.”
“If you always keep it bottled up and get angry in secret, ignoring me, I’ll be sad too. Do you understand?”
Recommended Reads
