Spoiled - Chapter 16

When Fu Feng said he liked him, Fang Baijing’s first reaction was surprisingly to believe it. He couldn’t describe the feeling; it was simply a matter of course, like rain falling on a cloudy day or the sun shining on a clear one. He believed it without question.

Due to the pain, Fang Baijing subconsciously shrank back, but Fu Feng’s fingers were pinching his chin, forcing Fang Baijing to meet his gaze.

Fu Feng’s eyes were slightly lowered. The confession just moments ago seemed not to have affected his mood. His light pupils met Fang Baijing’s gaze, like a silently brewing vortex at the bottom of the deep-sea night. His hand was steady, tracing Fang Baijing’s cheek. Fu Feng paused and asked, “Why are you closing your eyes?”

Fang Baijing didn’t know when he had closed his eyes. His thin eyelids were shut tight, and a slight tremor made his eyelashes flutter, like the quivering wings of a butterfly. He suddenly opened his eyes and violently flinched, accidentally hitting the wound on his cheekbone against Fu Feng’s hand.

“Hiss—” Fang Baijing’s eyes felt hot, and he nearly shed reflex tears.

“Don’t move,” Fu Feng warned, pinching his chin to straighten his face, and finally applying a layer of ointment to the wound. “Does it still hurt?”

The spray had a pain-relieving effect. Fang Baijing wasn’t hurting as much as before. He was now in a haze, unable to speak clearly, and could only manage a muffled “Mm” after a long pause. He was like a cat being stroked the right way. He watched as Fu Feng crouched down to check the other wounds on his body without saying anything.

Fu Feng’s brow furrowed as he asked, “Where else are you uncomfortable?”

“…My back,” Fang Baijing’s voice became softer. “It hurts so much.”

Fu Feng said without consulting him: “We’re going to the hospital.”

“I’m sure I don’t have a fracture. Can’t we skip the hospital?”

“No,” Fu Feng said, taking a tissue to wipe the sweat from Fang Baijing’s forehead. He asked mildly, “Do you need me to carry you on my back?”

Fang Baijing’s pupils constricted, and he raised his tone. His voice finally carried its usual fire: “Who wants you to carry them!”

Fu Feng took Fang Baijing to a private hospital, where he had his entire body checked. Only after confirming that all injuries were superficial did he bring him home.

Fang Baijing took off his costume and changed into his own clothes. The wound on his back had been dressed, but the doctor said the dressing needed to be changed twice a day.

As he lay heavily asleep on his stomach, he vaguely felt a chill on his back. Fang Baijing woke up suddenly, hitting the wound on his back with the large movement. His eyes blinked, and this time, real tears fell.

Before Fang Baijing could react, Fu Feng’s hand wiped away the tears from the corner of his eye.

“Why are you crying again?”

The word “again” annoyed Fang Baijing. He turned his head and buried it in the pillow, saying, “I’m not crying.”

His shirt was lifted, exposing his smooth back.

Fang Baijing instinctively wanted to struggle, but then remembered Fu Feng was applying medicine.

Fang Baijing’s shoulder line was taut, the line from his shoulder to his arm extremely smooth. He was very thin, his shoulder blades protruding, but his waist curved sharply inward. Under the cold white light, Fang Baijing’s already pale skin seemed to have a halo around it, making the red and blue marks on his back more striking.

Fu Feng’s eyes briefly darkened. He followed the doctor’s instructions and applied the medicine for Fang Baijing. He finally reminded him: “Don’t rush to cover yourself with a blanket.”

For the next few days, Fang Baijing recuperated at home. He worried about his work and wanted to return to the set the next day, but Fu Feng stopped him: “Rest well. They’ve stopped filming over there.”

He only said that, but Fang Baijing inferred the rest of Fu Feng’s meaning. If the film crew had stopped, Fu Feng was definitely covering the losses. In fact, his absence alone wouldn’t cause a stoppage. Fang Baijing felt there was only one reason for the halt: Zhuang Chengyan. In other words, Fu Feng was going to do something to Zhuang Chengyan.

Since Fu Feng said that phrase, which was both like and unlike a confession, Fang Baijing always felt very awkward around him.

Before, he would command Fu Feng and throw tantrums if anything displeased him. Now, Fang Baijing was completely silent and had even started to avoid him, because avoidance, though shameful, was useful.

But today he couldn’t avoid it. He was sitting in the living room when he received the Weibo push notification.

Weibo gave Zhuang Chengyan the full treatment, with three consecutive hot searches. —#ZhuangChengyanFetish# —#ZhuangChengyanSugarMommy# —#ZhuangChengyanGetOutofEntertainment#

This was within Fang Baijing’s expectations. He changed his posture, lying on the sofa, and clicked on the Weibo topic with a lack of interest.

The pictures were 360-degree high-definition shots taken by a paparazzo. It was probably at some special club. Zhuang Chengyan was kneeling on the floor with a collar around his neck, his profile clearly visible. The person on his right was completely pixelated, though you could vaguely tell it was a woman. Along with this, his pre-debut activities were also dug up, such as bullying others in school, emotionally abusing his girlfriend, and abandoning his ex-girlfriend for a rich woman as soon as he entered the industry. The revealed gossip was enough to stuff anyone. Overall, Zhuang Chengyan’s fate was sealed; he could be considered ruined. The film crew also opportunistically bought a trending topic about their heartbreak, and the reactions of Chen Yun’s fans and Fang Baijing’s fans below were the most intense, which also generated buzz for the show.

Fang Baijing sneered slightly, his mood predictably joyful. After all, although he threw the first punch, Zhuang Chengyan was the one who was verbally abusive first.

Just as he put down his phone, the villa door opened, and Fu Feng walked in from outside.

Fang Baijing first met his gaze, then awkwardly looked away, his fingers nervously twining together. He asked dryly, “Did you do… the thing with Zhuang Chengyan?”

“Yes,” Fu Feng replied. He loosened the tie around his neck, sat down next to Fang Baijing, and said casually, “It won’t affect your scene. We’ll just replace the actor.”

“Are you trying to please me?” Fang Baijing blurted out. After saying it, he wanted to slap himself twice. A hint of annoyance flashed in his eyes. He turned away, embarrassed and angry: “I just said it casually! Don’t take it seriously!”

“I suppose so,” Fu Feng actually took his words seriously. He stared at Fang Baijing, the corner of his cold, hard lip seemingly lifting slightly, his tone holding an imperceptible smile. “Something like that.”

Fang Baijing’s ears turned a little red. He looked straight ahead, his back stiff: “I didn’t ask you to do that!”

“Mm.”

The half-wall-sized projector was still playing a movie—a very old romance film that Fang Baijing had watched repeatedly and was his favorite. But now, Fang Baijing couldn’t focus. His fingers unconsciously picked at the sofa, as if trying to scratch a hole in it.

Fang Baijing muttered softly and asked, “How about I play the piano for you?”

Fu Feng had said before that his piano playing was beautiful. So now, he would play the piano for Fu Feng as a form of reciprocation. Perhaps because his voice was too soft or for some other reason, Fang Baijing didn’t get a reply from Fu Feng.

He was silent for two seconds, then glared at Fu Feng: “Do you want it or not! Listen if you want to!”

“I do,” Fu Feng replied, lowering his eyes. “There happens to be a piano at home.”

Fang Baijing asked in surprise, “Is that so? Why haven’t I seen it?”

Fu Feng didn’t answer him, only stood up and led the way.

The villa was huge, and Fang Baijing didn’t have the habit of wandering around other people’s homes. The places he spent the most time in were the kitchen, living room, and bedroom. He followed Fu Feng into a room.

The furnishings looked like a collection room, but it was different from a normal one. The display cabinets were not glass but tightly closed wooden cabinets. In the center of the large room was a piano. It must have been unused for a long time, as it was covered with a dust sheet.

“Oh?” Fang Baijing took a few steps forward and lifted the dust sheet. He was slightly surprised when he saw the piano. The grand piano was well-maintained, but there were inevitably some scratches on the body, which didn’t quite match Fu Feng’s refined appearance down to every strand of hair. Fang Baijing raised an eyebrow and said, “This piano is exactly the same one I used to practice on.” He tentatively touched the keys with his hand. The sound from the piano, whose gears hadn’t turned in a long time, was still crisp. Fang Baijing commented, “Maintenance must cost a lot of money. Why didn’t you buy a new one?”

Fu Feng said mildly, “I like this one.”

Fang Baijing dragged a chair over and sat down. His expression while playing was devout. Even in ordinary loungewear, the moment his fingers touched the keys, his posture was as straight as if he were in a grand concert hall. His fingers hovered over the keys. After a brief hesitation, the piece Fang Baijing chose was Canon.

Fang Baijing hadn’t played the song in a long time, but the score was deeply etched in his memory. Coupled with his years of mechanical practice, he played it effortlessly. The piano music flowed smoothly, and Fang Baijing’s expression was incredibly serious.

When the song ended, Fang Baijing turned his head to look at Fu Feng, looking triumphant, with a slight boast in his tone: “How was it?”

“It was beautiful,” Fu Feng suddenly took a few steps forward. He rested his hand on the edge of the piano, his eyelashes half-closed, hiding all emotion in his eyes. He suddenly said, “Not enough.”

Fang Baijing didn’t understand: “Not enough of what?”

Fu Feng still didn’t speak. He just leaned down, his handsome nose almost touching Fang Baijing’s cheek.

Fang Baijing seemed to understand Fu Feng’s meaning. He hesitated, then stiffly tilted his chin up almost imperceptibly.

The moment Fu Feng kissed his lips, Fang Baijing closed his eyes. His lips were lightly ground against. His pointed chin was pinched and lifted a little higher. Fang Baijing’s back of the neck was supported by Fu Feng. Fu Feng’s fingers gently brushed over his hair, and his breathing started to deepen again.

A kiss can be intoxicating. It wasn’t until Fang Baijing felt the hem of his clothes being lifted that he suddenly reacted. His palm pressed onto the piano, creating a chaotic sound of notes.

Fang Baijing frantically pushed Fu Feng’s shoulder, his panting heavy: “Stop… Not here!”

Fu Feng’s movement stopped. He picked Fang Baijing up from the chair. Fang Baijing had nowhere to lean, so he could only wrap his legs around Fu Feng’s waist. His arms tightly hugged Fu Feng’s neck, and he buried his head in his shoulder and neck, only revealing his flushed ears.

He had an injury on his back. Just as he was dizzily about to lie down on the bed, he was suddenly flipped over. Fang Baijing knelt on the bed unprepared, his knees and calves trembling weakly. He couldn’t help but try to escape forward, but an arm around his waist pulled him back. This position made him feel very insecure. He couldn’t see Fu Feng behind him. The veins on his clenched fingers bulged as he gripped the bedsheet, only to have them covered by a large hand.

“…Fu Feng,” Fang Baijing whimpered.

He was suddenly pulled into an embrace. Fu Feng’s scent enveloped him. A kiss was pressed onto his shoulder, and a finger gently stroked the wound on his back. “Yangyang,” Fu Feng whispered, “I’ve avenged you.”

Fang Baijing realized that Fu Feng only clearly expressed his emotions in situations like this—but Fu Feng’s “I like you” was said when he was sober.

Fu Feng actually liked him. His heart tingled. Tears uncontrollably slid down his cheeks.

Fang Baijing was facing away from Fu Feng, and could only viciously bite the finger that was wiping his tears.