TYMRHBDES Chapter 29

When Fu Tingchuan returned to the villa that evening, he put down his briefcase. “Where’s the young master?”

The housekeeper took the package from his hand, smiling warmly. “Young Master Jiang was on the balcony all afternoon. When I brought out the afternoon tea, I saw him weaving something!”

Fu Tingchuan’s gaze lowered slightly. “Still weaving them?”

“You bet!” the housekeeper continued, “Taking apart one, then weaving another. It’s been a whole day like this! I’ve never seen Young Master Jiang put so much effort into anything before!”

The housekeeper handed the bag to the secretary who approached, indicating for him to deliver it to the study. Turning again, he noticed Fu Tingchuan swiftly leaving and followed after.

The relationship between the young master and Little Young Master Jiang has been quite good recently. They’re constantly affectionate with each other, and with their looks, it’s like watching an idol drama.

After being alone for so many years, our young master must have been lonely. Now that someone can finally be by his side as a partner, I should at least try to nudge things along!

It’s just that our young master doesn’t know how to care for others!

When serving afternoon tea on the balcony, the housekeeper had seen Little Young Master Jiang rolling up his sleeves to make braided cords. Noticing similar marks near his collar, he later inquired about the maids who cleaned the bedroom. It turned out the young master had no restraint and did that every day—careless of tiring the poor man out.

With this thought, even the housekeeper’s elderly footsteps seemed to quicken as he followed behind Fu Tingchuan. “Young Master Jiang is young and innocent,” he said. “He doesn’t understand much. You’re many years older; you should always be yielding and comforting him, taking care of his needs.”

Fu Tingchuan picked up on the man’s unspoken words.

He stopped, giving the butler a cold look.

He hadn’t even touched Jiang Luoluo yet.

What could be anything more humiliating than being told outright that your own wife might cheat on you?

This old thing knew everything and still had the nerve to tell him not to touch Jiang Luoluo.

Was he supposed to leave Luoluo for that other guy?

The one with the friendship bracelet? The guy named Long?

Fu Tingchuan’s fingers curled into a fist, but he forced a smile at the butler. “You’re right, as always.”

‘Luoluo is young and doesn’t know any better,’  he thought.

He doesn’t understand that being two-timing and half-hearted is wrong.

It’s all those sycophants around him confusing right and wrong. They’ve corrupted my Luoluo.

Fu Tingchuan’s deep gaze left the housekeeper’s face, and he clapped him on the shoulder. “You always think things through, Housekeeper.”

The housekeeper chuckled kindly. “It’s my job, sir.”

Pulling his hand back, Fu Tingchuan said, “Thank you, I know what I must do now.”

Watching Fu Tingchuan head into the bathroom, the housekeeper’s face was full of happiness. ‘The young master listened to reason and was polite—’ he thought, — ‘he’s truly grown up and matured.’ With light steps, he headed to the kitchen.

On the third floor of the villa, there was a small balcony with various expensive flowers lining the railing. A hanging chair was nestled amid the pink rose bushes, and Jiang Luoluo leaned against it, one hand holding the rope, the other grasping small scissors as he carefully trimmed the plants with a determined yet clumsy look.

The task seemed to be quite challenging for him, his pretty little face slightly furrowed, delicate eyebrows drawn together, and teeth biting his lower lip as he concentrated intently.

This scene is what greeted Fu Tingchuan when he approached.

He stood nearby, simply watching.

Jiang Luoluo was truly beautiful, a kind of pure and innocent beauty that had grown exactly according to Fu Tingchuan’s wishes.

Dressed in a set of white cotton loungewear, his light blond hair draped over his ears, and his calves rested against the sides of the hanging chair, the golden tassels at his ankles draping calmly over his feet.

Against the backdrop of the sky filled with pink clouds, sitting amidst the crowd of pink and white roses, he looked as lovely as a European prince from the Middle Ages in an oil painting.

Unfortunately, the little prince’s hands held something meant for someone else, and his thoughts and gaze were not focused on Fu Tingchuan.

If this bracelet, gradually taken apart and reassembled by those soft hands, holding his hopes and expectations, were to be worn—would even dreams smell sweet?

Fu Tingchuan lowered his gaze, long black lashes moving downward, casting cloud-like shadows beneath his eyelids.

His heart twinged, like a tiny hammer with nails was striking against it.

That man who made him jealous enough to ‘want’ him dead…

Fu Tingchuan pressed his lips together, his sharp and cold profile taking on a frosty hue—

He began to envy him.

With a soft gasp, Fu Tingchuan came back to his senses. He took a few steps over, got down on one knee beside Jiang Luoluo, and picked up his hand.

Looking worried, he asked, “What happened? Are you hurt?”

The sharp edge of the scissors had sliced open a thin cut on Jiang Luoluo’s slender index finger, pressing out two drops of blood as round as red beans.

Before Jiang Luoluo could react, he quietly explained, “It was getting dark, and I couldn’t see clearly…”

“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt. Just wipe it off…”

The rest of the sentence was swallowed back down. Jiang Luoluo’s fingers curled in on themselves, his round almond eyes wide as he watched Fu Tingchuan take his injured hand into his mouth.

The soft tip of the tongue glided over his finger, found the cut with perfect accuracy, and began to slowly lick it.

“Uhh, it’s not clean…” Jiang Luoluo protested, trying to pull away but was held back by a big hand.

A blush spread across his face. Jiang Luoluo bent down and looked at Fu Tingchuan kneeling beside him. His eyelashes lowered like a faucet turned down full blast.

When Fu Tingchuan let go, Jiang Luoluo didn’t know what to say. He stared at his finger, eyes wide and moist, unmoving.

The sky was getting dark. Fu Tingchuan faced away from the boundless dusk, half of his face immersed in the night, looking even more profound and handsome.

Jiang Luoluo gaped at him for a good while before snapping back to reality. Flustered, he moved the basket off his lap and held up the black cord bracelet in his palm, placing it between them.

“Fu Tingchuan, do you like it?”

Fu Tingchuan looked down at the bracelet resting in Jiang Luoluo’s smooth palm and nodded. “It looks nice.”

The corners of Jiang Luoluo’s mouth lifted, his eyes sparkling. “I made it myself~”

His voice was cheerful, but Fu Tingchuan felt his heart growing heavier, a sour, bitter taste rising in his throat.

His wife had made a bracelet for another man.

And he was there, just a witness to this display of affection.

The fingers resting on Jiang Luoluo’s waist slowly tightened. But the owner of the lovely waist leaned forward, offering the hand with the bracelet. “Here, Fu Tingchuan, for you.”

Fu Tingchuan’s head snapped up, his gaze meeting Jiang Luoluo’s shining eyes, his throat tightening painfully.

He thought he must have misheard.

His heart felt like it was being squeezed, the air suddenly heavy. Fu Tingchuan dared not blink, afraid to lose sight of that charming face before him.

In the face before him, a sweet smile played across delicate features. He bit his lip, looking a bit shy. “I’m not very skilled. It took me a long time to finish it. It’s not as pretty as the ones in shops. I hope you won’t laugh at me…”

A whirlwind of emotions hit Fu Tingchuan as he blinked, staring in disbelief at the bracelet in front of him.

For me?

Was it really for me?

Slowly, he raised his hand, the tips of his fingers touching the bracelet with barely perceptible trembling.

Jiang Luoluo’s soft voice seemed to come from clusters of clouds, and the words he spoke to Fu Tingchuan felt more uncertain than anything he’d heard previously.

“I messed up several ropes, you know. When you take them apart and put them back together, they don’t look as nice…”

“You’re a dragon, so I figured I’d add a little charm with a pendant of a little golden dragon to it. It’d be too simple to just give you a ring of rope…”

Looking at Fu Tingchuan’s unmoving eyes, Jiang Luoluo suddenly felt a bit self-conscious. “I know it’s not that attractive or anything, and it feels a little embarrassing to hand over, but—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before a large hand cradled the back of his head, pressing cool lips against his forehead in a kiss.

With one knee on the ground before Jiang Luoluo, Fu Tingchuan held him tightly.

The feeling of their lips and teeth entwined made Jiang Luoluo close his eyes involuntarily. The sweet, slightly metallic taste of blood spread across his tongue, each breath a struggle for dominance between them.

Second persona Fu Tingchuan rarely ever lost control like this.

But today, he couldn’t seem to regulate his breathing or maintain that polite facade. Restlessness surged in his blood, and he suddenly didn’t want to pretend to be a good person anymore.

Jiang Luoluo’s body went limp against him, his arms draped over Fu Tingchuan’s shoulders like wet noodles…

The evening breeze blew from the balcony, rustling rose petals and leaves together, sending a shiver through Jiang Luoluo.

Only then did Fu Tingchuan reluctantly let go of him.

The orange-red horizon began to meld with the darkening earth, the night growing deeper. Jiang Luoluo sat in the hammock, his hands resting on its sides. His lips were red and full, his eyes beautiful and radiant, and his whole face seemed to glow.

With a blush, he smiled at Fu Tingchuan, half-lidded gaze fixed on him. Leaning against the bright moon, he looked like a child, innocent as a fairy.

Fu Tingchuan’s heart swelled with emotion, his eyes stinging as tears threatened to spill over.

The little fairy standing above him was trying to love him—love the lowly, insignificant him, trapped in life’s muck.

Fu Tingchuan tilted his head back, placing his hands on Jiang Luoluo’s shoulders. He gently kissed the spot between Jiang Luoluo’s eyebrows, as if a devout believer were kissing an incorruptibly pure deity.

At that moment, his heart raced wildly, pounding so fiercely it seemed ready to leap from his chest. Yet, he also felt an unparalleled sense of tranquility, as if his brief life had never known such peace.

Jiang Luoluo picked up the bracelet, carefully extending his small head so Fu Tingchuan could fasten it in place. He held up the wrist in question, turning it this way, and then smiled with a slight pout: “Just right.”

Following Jiang Luoluo’s gaze, Fu Tingchuan looked at his wrist too.

His other hand caressed the band, twirling it gently around his wrist. Fu Tingchuan swallowed hard, throat bobbing as he met Jiang Luoluo’s eyes.

Many times, he had doubted the reality of the world was not real enough for himself. He lived in constant fear that one day he’d wake up, only to find it all a dream, everything he cared about stripped away.

But this bracelet on his wrist—this piece of jewelry—seemed to anchor him to this world, linking them inextricably.

It was a gift not just of love, but of *material* love—a love forever manifested in this tangible form.

At last, he had something that was truly his own.

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Ahhh, my fingers hurt from typing all this sweetness! 💘 Fu Tingchuan, my guy, you were ready to start a war over a friendship bracelet, and now look at you—absolutely wrecked by one (1) handcrafted gift. Jiang Luoluo, keep this man on his toes. 👀

If you enjoyed this chapter and want to fuel my caffeine addiction (or bribe me to work faster), consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi! ☕💖 Every donation helps me recover from the emotional damage caused by these two love-struck fools.