Chapter 17 Resentment is heavier than a ghost
Not long ago, in the bedroom.
Duan Mingxiao lay on the sofa, his long, straight legs crossed, sunlight scattering on him, making him look like a handsome Greek sculpture.
The boy raised one arm, closed his eyes, and pretended to sleep.
A feeling of unease instantly overwhelmed him, and his other right hand hung limply at the edge of the sofa, revealing a section of his wrist with prominent veins.
In the silent room, a door was suddenly opened a crack, and a large, dark brown shadow slipped in through the gap.
A slight itch crept onto his wrist as a black Rottweiler wandered in. The boy, lying on the sofa, parted his thin lips and whispered as he shooed it away.
"Get away." The boy's voice was a little hoarse.
The Rottweiler didn't leave; it continued to swat at Duan Mingxiao's wrist with its tail. Only then did Duan Mingxiao raise his arm and give it a cold glare.
Rottweiler had a white handkerchief in his mouth.
A moment of darkness flashed in Duan Mingxiao's eyes as he recalled the scene of Cong Chun wiping his hands with a handkerchief.
He sat up abruptly and slumped onto the sofa.
Duan Mingxiao irritably rubbed his hair with his well-defined fingers, making a mess of it.
The boy then took the handkerchief from Rottweiler's mouth and looked at the handkerchief covered in saliva.
Although Duan Mingxiao's eyes revealed a hint of disdain, he did not let go.
"Stupid dog, where did you pick you up?"
This Rottweiler belongs to Duan Mingxiao. It has a fierce appearance and a domineering personality, and its name is "Mengmeng".
Duan Mingxiao looked at the handkerchief in his hand and muttered to himself.
[Always so forgetful, and when you lose something, you expect my dog to help you find it. Who's really serving whom here?]
A moment later, Duan Mingxiao, leaning on his cane, arrived at Cong Chun's room. The boy knocked on the door, but there was no response.
Duan Mingxiao saw Butler Chen preparing to go downstairs, hesitated for a moment, and awkwardly asked.
Where is he?
Butler Chen responded to him politely with his head bowed.
"Young Master, Xiaochun was weeding in the backyard this afternoon."
Duan Mingxiao, leaning on his cane, slowly walked to the French windows, from which he could see the entire backyard.
However, the next second, under the blazing sun, Duan Mingxiao's eyes suddenly turned gloomy, as if shrouded in a thunderstorm.
Cong Chun took off his sun hat and wanted to return it to Lu Tinglan. He was used to being in the sun in the fields since he was a child, so he didn't really need to wear a sun hat.
Lu Tinglan took it, but the next second she put the hat back on Cong Chun's head.
"This is new, I hope you don't mind."
A hint of panic flashed in Cong Chun's eyes, but he didn't mean to be disgusted.
"By the way, my name is Lu Tinglan. What's your name?"
"My name is Cong Chun."
"Your name is very special."
A faint smile appeared on Lu Tinglan's lips, a sincere compliment.
Cong Chun was a little embarrassed, as this was the first time someone had said his name sounded nice.
As soon as he finished speaking, Lu Tinglan reached out and brushed some hair from Cong Chun's forehead. Cong Chun instinctively took a step back, avoiding Lu Tinglan's action.
"Sorry, I couldn't help myself when I saw your hair was a little messy..."
Lu Tinglan awkwardly withdrew her hand, her tone apologetic.
Cong Chun shook his head and whispered that it was nothing.
Standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, Duan Mingxiao was like a volcano about to erupt, clutching the white handkerchief in his hand tightly.
On the grass, Lu Tinglan quickly noticed the gaze from the second floor.
The boy looked up at Duan Mingxiao and greeted him first.
"Ah Chan, it's been a long time."
He and Duan Mingxiao hadn't seen each other for four years. Lu Tinglan spent most of her university years abroad. This time, she returned to China to pursue a master's degree at Peking University and also served as a teaching assistant for her supervisor.
Cong Chun looked up and realized that Duan Mingxiao had arrived there at some point.
He was about to say hello when he realized that Duan Mingxiao had turned and left without even responding to Lu Tinglan's words.
Lu Tinglan wasn't annoyed. He gently shook his head, though his tone was somewhat helpless.
"Ah Chan still seems angry."
"That's why Aunt Yun told me to come back to China and talk to him when I have time."
Cong Chun looked at Duan Mingxiao's departing figure, a hint of worry flashing in her eyes.
Then Lu Tinglan's gaze slowly returned to Cong Chun, and she said softly.
“Ah Chan recently injured his leg, so he might not be able to control his temper.”
"Please be patient with him."
On the second floor, Duan Mingxiao stood behind the curtains, his eyes lowered, seemingly lost in thought.
The next second, the boy clenched his fist and sneered.
He threw the white handkerchief in his hand into the trash can.
If you say I have a bad temper, then all the good-tempered people in the world are dead.
On the other side, after cleaning the backyard, Cong Chun returned to his room, took out his phone, asked Butler Chen for the young master's contact information, and added Duan Mingxiao as a friend.
About fifteen minutes later, Duan Mingxiao accepted his friend request, but Cong Chun was still in the bathroom.
In fact, Duan Mingxiao had already noticed that Cong Chun had added him as a friend.
However, the young master deliberately put the "friend verification message" aside for fifteen minutes before clicking "accept".
As for why he knew that the person who added him was Cong Chun?
These days, the only person who's ever registered their real name online is probably this fool; whoever likes others uses their real name as their nickname.
So when Duan Mingxiao saw the account that had added him, nicknamed "Cong Chun," and the profile picture was still a lush green vegetable garden.
The young master couldn't help but twitch his lips, almost thinking he had turned on eye protection mode.
After about two minutes, the other person still hadn't sent him a message, and Duan Mingxiao couldn't help but frown.
What does that mean? I added him and then didn't say a word.
I'm giving you a chance. If you don't message me in two minutes, I'll block you.
Duan Mingxiao thought resentfully.
Two minutes passed, and Duan Mingxiao stared intently at the chat dialog box, which remained completely blank.
Fine, I'm in a good mood, I'll give you five more minutes.
...wait eight minutes.
Fifteen minutes—this is my final deadline.
However, no new information was released.
Duan Mingxiao: ……
Duan Mingxiao couldn't hold back any longer. Almost half an hour had passed; even if they were making paper from tree bark, they should have finished by now.
Duan Mingxiao couldn't help but send Cong Chun two messages.
(Did you need something?)
Five minutes later, another message was sent.
(Are you asleep?) [Retracted]
Finally, after 22 minutes, Cong Chun came out of the bathroom and found that Duan Mingxiao had accepted his friend request.
Cong Chun's hair was still wet, and a towel was covering her head.
Cong Chun stared at the message on the screen, somewhat puzzled.
What message did the young master retract?
He typed a reply to Duan Mingxiao on the other side of the screen.
(Nothing much, I just wanted to add the young master's contact information.)
When Duan Mingxiao saw that Cong Chun had finally replied to his message, the frustration in his heart finally dissipated a bit.
[You want to add my contact information? Hmph, looks like you understand the principles of "first come, first served" and "advantageous position."]
The young master, with an air of self-importance, replied to Cong Chun with a single word.
At this moment, Cong Chun put his phone aside and started drying his hair.
Duan Mingxiao was somewhat annoyed to see that his message was the last one in the chat.
They didn't even say goodnight to me.
(What are you doing?)
Duan Mingxiao lay on the bed, bored, and sent another message.
Just then, Cong Chun put down the hair dryer.
(I was just blow-drying my hair, young master.)
Duan Mingxiao curled his lips into a smile. So you were drying your hair. That's a barely acceptable excuse for your neglect of me.
(Oh, I see. Go to bed early.)
(Okay, young master, you too. I'll reply to my friend's message and get ready to rest.)
Duan Mingxiao's eyes widened suddenly when he saw the message. Should he reply to his friend's message?
What friend would send a message to Stupid Spring so late at night?
(Your friend? Sending you a message so late?)
Cong Chun had only recently registered his chat account, and he had very few friends—only three.
These three people are Butler Chen, Lu Tinglan, and Duan Mingxiao.
Lu Tinglan took the initiative to add Cong Chun's contact information after leaving the Duan family in the afternoon.
He had just sent Cong Chun a greeting message, and Cong Chun was preparing to give him a polite response in return.
(Yes, young master. I'm going to sleep after replying to his message.)
(Young master, you should get some rest too.)
…Following this, news about Duan Mingxiao continued to bombard us.
Lu Tinglan's face flashed through Duan Mingxiao's mind.
(Is it Lu Tinglan?)
Five minutes later, Cong Chun sent a reply.
When Duan Mingxiao saw the word "hmm," a nameless fire ignited in his heart. That stupid Chun must have gone to chat with Lu Tinglan first, which is why his reply to him was so perfunctory!
666 is chatting with his mistress and doesn't reply to me.
Duan Mingxiao was filled with more resentment than a ghost, and he sent Cong Chun a voice message.
Cong Chun was drinking water when he opened the voice message and was startled, almost spilling the water on the bed.
A resentful voice echoed in the room.
"I, you, are, not, allowed, to chat with him."
"This young master, no ...
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