Looking up at the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, Ling Yun broke into a ridiculous grin. The grin widened, and before he could stop himself he reached out and gave the person beside him a tentative pat — just to confirm he wasn't dreaming.
Warm. Firm in places. Soft in others. Absolutely a real person.
The smile on Ling Yun's face stretched even wider. Little Uncle had really come back. He really hadn't been tricking him.
With that realization, he couldn't help himself — he patted, and patted again, prodded and poked, just like when he was small.
"Little treasure, do you think you could consider stopping?" Having endured rather a lot of this unwanted contact, Jiang Xiuqing caught the mischievous hand and opened his clear, alert eyes.
He'd only slept three hours, but his energy was mostly restored. He was twenty-eight — in his prime.
"Little Uncle — you're awake?"
Caught, Ling Yun was completely unabashed — and completely unalarmed. He did just as he used to when he was little, wrapping all four limbs around Jiang Xiuqing, pressing his forehead against his, and grinning with absolute, unrestrained abandon.
"Ling Yun — you've gotten heavy."
Feeling the weight, Jiang Xiuqing carefully shifted to avoid a particular inconvenient area, then went for the attack — fingers diving straight for Ling Yun's armpits. Not a thought given to the action. Pure habit.
"Little Uncle — that's cheating! You always go for my most sensitive spot!"
Having his ticklish spots ambushed made Ling Yun writhe like a silkworm on top of Jiang Xiuqing, his bright, happy laughter sailing through the wide window and far into the distance.
Everyone who heard it smiled with quiet understanding. Only with this little troublemaker around was the house this full of life — and only then did the family head lose that untouchable, cold composure.
"Hahaha — Little Uncle, stop, stop, stop — I can't take it — let go, if you don't let go you're going to lose me, I'm laughing myself to death!" Ling Yun managed to glare at Jiang Xiuqing through the tears the laughter had brought to his eyes.
That glance — carrying an unaware, artless allure — made Jiang Xiuqing's breath catch. He released his hands.
Every ambush on Ling Yun's armpits was successful precisely because Ling Yun never learned his lesson. Every time they played like this, Jiang Xiuqing went for the ticklish spots — and Ling Yun never protected himself.
"Alright — Little Uncle won't tickle you anymore. Tell me — how have I been cheating? Wasn't it our Ling Yun who climbed on top of me first?" Holding the boy who was still squirming against him like a puppy, Jiang Xiuqing smiled with rare warmth. Ling Yun's easy affection genuinely delighted him.
Being blamed when he was the one who'd made the first move — Ling Yun turned his eyes thoughtfully and flashed a crafty smile. "Little Uncle, I told you — this was your punishment. You can't put the blame back on me."
"Oh? How so?" Knowing Ling Yun's personality inside-out, Jiang Xiuqing played along rather than calling out the obvious excuse.
"Little Uncle said I was heavy. Saying I'm heavy deserves punishment. Hmph, I'm upset." And to demonstrate how upset he was, Ling Yun opened his mouth and lightly bit Jiang Xiuqing's earlobe. He'd done it plenty of times as a child, after all.
The soft, springy earlobe between warm lips sent a tremor through Jiang Xiuqing.
Then the warm, moist breath following it slipped from Ling Yun's mouth into his ear canal. In that moment, every muscle in Jiang Xiuqing's body went rigid. His lowered gaze fixed on the head right there against him. His pupils had gone very black — deep enough to swallow someone whole.
"Little Uncle — did I hurt you?"
Feeling Jiang Xiuqing go still, the playful Ling Yun stopped immediately. He still cared about Little Uncle.
"Mm. A little painful." Taking one deep breath, Jiang Xiuqing turned an expression toward Ling Yun that carried multiple layers at once — exasperation, restraint, but above all else, indulgence.
"Sorry — should I rub it for you?" Hearing that he'd caused pain, Ling Yun reached up at once to gently massage the barely-dented earlobe, while privately puzzling: how is that even painful? He'd barely used any pressure. He'd always bitten this gently. Had something gone wrong today?
No — if you cause harm, you make it right.
Determined to make a proper apology, Ling Yun simultaneously massaged the earlobe with his fingers and blew on it gently with his breath — the way you'd soothe a child's scraped knee.
The unexpected puff of breath made Jiang Xiuqing's whole body shudder involuntarily.
God help him. His darling was growing up physically, but the awareness that went with that hadn't caught up at all.
Did Ling Yun not realize what this closeness was doing to him? Carrying the weight of something too complicated to voice, Jiang Xiuqing reached out and patted Ling Yun's back, saying quietly, "Alright — Little Uncle's earlobe doesn't hurt anymore. Time for the little sweetheart to rest, yes?"
"Oh."
Catching sight of the thoroughly abused, thoroughly red earlobe, Ling Yun belatedly suspected Jiang Xiuqing had been messing with him.
He rolled off and sat up properly, pouting.
"What — sulking?" Looking at Ling Yun's pout — the kind that could hold a whole bottle of vinegar — Jiang Xiuqing felt his own helplessness deepen: when was this child going to figure things out? The wait was becoming physically painful.
"No, I'm not sulking." The person saying not sulking turned their back on Jiang Xiuqing.
Watching this walking contradiction, Jiang Xiuqing — entirely responsible for his own suffering — could only turn and coax him. "Alright, alright — it's Little Uncle's fault. I shouldn't have teased you. Let me apologize, shall I?"
"No."
Hands clapped over both ears — absolutely unreasonable. Absolutely in character.
Exactly as blazingly wilful as ever.
"Then what do you want from me, little sweetheart? Just say it and I'll do it." Bending his head to press a kiss to Ling Yun's crown, Jiang Xiuqing gave every last shred of his patience to this child he'd watched grow up.
"Little Uncle — I've told you so many times, stop calling me little sweetheart. I'm eighteen. Eighteen years old!" Ling Yun hadn't actually been genuinely angry — and now that enough time had passed, he turned back around on his own.
The flush across Ling Yun's cheeks told Jiang Xiuqing exactly what this was about.
"Ling Yun has been little sweetheart to me since you were this small." He held up his hand to indicate the size of a two-year-old Ling Yun, his expression briefly nostalgic, then looked at Ling Yun with gentle sadness. "If Little Sweetheart doesn't want that name anymore — what should Little Uncle call you?"
"Call me —"
"Don't say Ling Yun — everyone else calls you that. If you tell me to call you the same thing as outsiders, it feels like too much distance. It'll hurt." He pressed a hand over his heart and cut off Ling Yun's reply, then looked at him with expectation shining in his eyes — a warmth that could drown a person.
Ling Yun: Everything I was going to say, you already said for me. What am I supposed to say now?!
"Little Sweetheart?" Jiang Xiuqing was still waiting for an answer.
"Little Uncle — call me whatever you like." Jiang Xiuqing was too good to him — too good for Ling Yun to refuse the love in his gaze. It was just a name, after all. He could live with Little Sweetheart. He'd been called it for years. And going forward… who knew if he'd even get to hear it at all.
Thinking of his situation, Ling Yun dropped his gaze and buried himself in Jiang Xiuqing's arms.
He needed Little Uncle to give him strength.
Holding the boy who'd flung himself at him, Jiang Xiuqing's eyes went sharp and cool. Someone dared bully his little sweetheart? They had absolutely no regard for him. He would make certain they learned their lesson.
"Little Uncle." The voice coming from inside Jiang Xiuqing's embrace was thick with stuffed-up breath.
"What is it, sweetheart?" Jiang Xiuqing's right hand moved in slow, steady strokes up and down Ling Yun's back, his eyes full of concern. He had been waiting for Ling Yun to come and report the injustice to him. He'd actually expected it sooner.
But Ling Yun had been too mature to say a word — which made him both admire the boy and feel a sharper irritation at Jiang Xiusu for being so incapable of managing his own household.
A man who can't even manage his own family clearly has limited competence across the board.
Jiang Xiuqing had just begun considering whether to pull back some of Jiang Xiusu's authority in the company when Ling Yun suddenly spoke.
"Little Uncle — you said you brought me a present, didn't you?"
The limited-edition Lamborghini.
"In the back courtyard. Would my little sweetheart like to go look?" Seeing Ling Yun still cared about his sports car, Jiang Xiuqing exhaled with quiet relief.
"Yes." The moment he heard the present had already arrived, Ling Yun couldn't lie still for another second. He sprang up, gave Jiang Xiuqing a hard kiss on the cheek, and vanished into the bathroom like a gust of wind. He had to go see the car. Whether he'd get to take it when he left the Jiang family or not — he had to see it.
Half-propped against the headboard, Jiang Xiuqing touched his kissed cheek with a rueful smile.
The effect this child had on him was growing every day.
"Little Uncle — I'm going to see the car!" A few minutes later, Ling Yun erupted back out of the bathroom, grabbed something from the wardrobe, and was gone from Jiang Xiuqing's sight before he'd even finished speaking.
Looking at the restored silence of the bedroom, Jiang Xiuqing shook his head helplessly. "Ungrateful little thing."
Sleeping was clearly out of the question now. He pushed back the covers and padded barefoot to the bathroom in his wide robe, and as he stepped in front of the mirror — in a place Ling Yun could no longer see — his eyes held something focused and determined.
It was time to collect what was owed to him. He had certain people to thank, actually. If not for their cleverness, he might have had to wait longer.
While Jiang Xiuqing went through his morning routine, Ling Yun had already reached the wide rear courtyard parking area and was staring at the gleaming new Lamborghini with barely-contained excitement.
As expected. Little Uncle never let him down.
The latest limited-edition Lamborghini. His favorite color too — yellow.
"Young Lord Ling — the keys." Special Assistant Fan had appeared silently behind him at precisely the right moment, keys extended.
Ling Yun had visited Jiang Xiuqing's home often enough to know Fan Zhengqing well. He grinned, accepted the keys, and said warmly, "Thank you for the trouble, Assistant Fan." Then he got in the car — and with one press of the accelerator, the Lamborghini let out its thrilling roar and vanished from Fan Zhengqing's view like a knife through air.
Watching the disappearing car, the special assistant immediately waved at Luo Hu and the rest of the security team. Several low-key, inconspicuous cars fell in behind the Lamborghini and followed it out of the Jiang estate.
Watching the grounds return to quiet, Fan Zhengqing shook his head with a complicated feeling. This kid really was born under a lucky star. Even as a switched baby, with the Jiang family head's personal regard, he was still the capital's golden child — every bit as free and dazzling as he'd always been.
While Fan Zhengqing was contemplating Ling Yun's enviable fortune, the subject of his thoughts was on a roadside, staring at a black Lamborghini parked at the curb with murder in his eyes.
Damn. That was his car.
Someone had touched his car.
He pulled over. Got out. Walked over with dangerous energy. And sure enough — Yang Qing, that shameless white lotus, was sitting in the driver's seat.
"Get out of there." Standing in front of the car, Ling Yun was the portrait of imperious arrogance. This Lamborghini was also a gift from Little Uncle. It didn't matter that he'd left the Jiang house — no one in the Jiang family had any right to touch it.
Looking at Ling Yun blocking the car, Yang Qing let a smug little smile play across his face.
He wasn't getting out. He'd like to see what Ling Yun could do. He'd driven Ling Yun's car on purpose today — to show the world who the real Jiang heir was. To put Ling Yun under his foot.
Ling Yun read every last calculation in Yang Qing's eyes with perfect clarity.
He gave a cold laugh — and picked up a large rock from the roadside. He swung it directly into the Lamborghini's windshield.
"Ling Yun — are you insane?!" The sight of Ling Yun's blazing eyes made Yang Qing's heart nearly stop. He hadn't expected Ling Yun to smash the car right there on the street. This car was worth tens of millions!
Ling Yun answered by swinging again. And again.
"Young Lord Ling — is there anything we can help with?" Luo Hu and the others arrived, each carrying a solid steering wheel lock. Clearly prepared.
Ling Yun glanced at Luo Hu. Said nothing. Took a step back, pointed at the Lamborghini that Yang Qing had contaminated, and said with blazing arrogance: "Smash it for me."
"Yes, Young Lord Ling." Without asking questions, Luo Hu and the bodyguards raised the steering wheel locks and brought them down on the car worth tens of millions.
"He's insane — Ling Yun — are you completely out of your mind?!"
Yang Qing scrambled out of the Lamborghini on hands and knees, face white as paper, staring at Ling Yun as if he'd seen a ghost.
"My property. I'll smash it if I want. Who asked for your opinion?" With a toss of his head, the brilliant, defiant Ling Yun showed the world exactly what Jiang family young master energy looked like — the arrogance and the fire.
