Chapter 12 Dad, why does your mouth taste like Shang Youqing? !

The man's arms were strong and powerful, clamping around the narrow waist and the warmth of the embrace that was exactly the same as in his memory.

He lowered his head and pressed hard against her neck, biting a small piece of soft skin with his dry, warm lips as if to vent his anger, and murmured with hot breath mixed with a faint smell of alcohol. However, before he could even utter the two words filled with extremely strong resentment, he was pushed away unexpectedly.

He Cong seemed unable to understand how she dared to push him away. He staggered half a step, his eyes flushed, and he raised his head with heavy breathing. However, after seeing the face in front of him clearly, he felt as if he had fallen into an icy cave.

He regained consciousness in an instant, and his facial features became cold as ice.

"It's you."

He Cong calmed his breath, his thin lips forming cold straight lines. He stared at Shang Youqing, who looked at him in disbelief, covering her bitten neck. But he only felt a clear mockery: "What else do you want, Miss Shang?"

Shang Youqing was still in shock, trying to calm his thoughts: "What do you mean, Mr. He?"

"You even knew about my private trip to Tan Palace to discuss cooperation, and you deliberately showed up here to create a chance encounter." He looked the woman in front of him up and down coldly, approaching aggressively, "Miss Shang, you don't think you are so clever, do you?"

"Indeed, He Zhimo was born without a mother, so he lacks maternal love. It just so happens that your back looks very similar to my late wife, so it's natural for him to project his longing for his mother onto you. A child can't tell the difference, so can't Miss Shang tell the difference either?"

He Cong's breath was scorching, but his eyes were cold. He spoke a warning through his thin lips, almost pausing on each word: "I advise Miss Shang to put aside these thoughts. Even if you look alike, I will never find a stepmother for He Zhimo."

Shang Youqing had already calmed down by now. She stood there, watching calmly as He Cong bit people like a mad dog and then started to lash out at her with a cold face. Her eyebrows and eyes were relaxed from beginning to end, and she waited patiently for him to finish his words. Finally, she spoke in a clear voice: "Are you done?"

Shang Youqing pointed with his fair fingertips at his body, which was like a high wall blocking his way, and said, "Make way."

He Cong's eyes unconsciously followed the movement of her slender fingers. Then he realized something, and with a cold face, he turned his body to the side. Then he caught a cold glimpse of a young man standing behind him in amazement.

Because he had just approved the investment plan of a program not long ago, He Cong recognized at a glance that the sunny and handsome man behind him was one of the star guests of that program.

He Cong's eyebrows knitted together. Before he could figure out why this male star was here, Shang Youqing brushed past him, walked towards the male star and said, "Where is your car?"

The male star stammered and pointed to the right, "Here, here..."

The car door opened, and Shang Youqing was about to lean in when he suddenly remembered something. He placed his slender hand on the door and glanced sideways at He Cong, who was still standing still a few steps away. He said calmly, "I didn't realize Mr. He had such a rich imagination. However, I do have something to remind Mr. He."

Shang Youqing used his fingertips to hold the back collar of the shirt that had been messed up by the man, and straightened it out bit by bit, lightly returning the words that He Cong had just said.

"Mr. He, please restrain your thoughts. Now that you know I'm not your lover, please stop projecting your thoughts and feelings towards me. Even a child can't tell the difference, so can't Mr. He, an adult, tell the difference?"

He Cong: “…”

Soon, the dark blue car drove away.

A few minutes later, inside the Bentley.

On the way back to Yanyuan, Yu Zhu didn't dare to breathe. The air pressure in the car was almost so low that it was about to freeze.

He Cong sat very calmly in the back row, his eyes thick and dark, looking at the night scene passing by quickly outside the window, as if he was thinking about something.

After a long moment, he suddenly retracted his gaze, gently turning the ebony Buddhist beads on his slender wrist, and said calmly, "Go check what the relationship is between Shang Youqing and that pretty boy celebrity just now."

Yu Zhu resisted the urge to ask, "What's the point of checking this?" and replied, "Okay, Mr. He."

When they arrived at Yanyuan, fifteen minutes had passed since the curfew time He Zhimo had set for him as his father. He Cong had thought that He Zhimo would have been taken back to his room by the servants to sleep by then. However, just as he got out of the car, Butler Chen came up to him and whispered a reminder. He Cong paused and said, "I understand. You should go back and rest first."

He Cong returned to the main house in the heart of the lake. As soon as he entered the entrance and approached the hall, he saw the scene described by Butler Chen -

In the huge living room with floor-to-ceiling windows, He Zhimo was wearing fluffy penguin pajamas. I don't know who he learned it from, but he was imitating the penguin, holding his two little hands, sitting on the sofa with a little face, and his two short legs hanging over the edge of the sofa.

Hearing He Cong's approaching footsteps, Young Master He didn't even raise his head. Like a little overlord, he spoke coldly in a baby voice, "You're back."

He Cong: "...Why don't you go to bed?"

"You still have the nerve to ask me, Dad, do you know what time it is now?"

He Zhimo was about to imitate his father's usual majestic look towards his subordinates, but as soon as he finished speaking, his nose twitched slightly, as if he had keenly smelled something.

He suddenly couldn't sit still anymore, and stood up from the sofa. He hugged He Cong's arm, who was standing in front of the sofa, and sniffed his suit hard, "Dad, are you still drinking?"

"I drank a little."

He Zhimo snorted angrily. He was about to interrogate him for some other details when his eyes suddenly froze. He tilted his head back and sniffed He Cong's chin. He shouted in shock, "Dad, why does your mouth smell like Shang Youqing?!"