The Fake Son Wants to Live [BL]

Chapter 72 - 72 - Piercing green eyes

Xing Yu stared at the boy’s back, narrowing his eyes a little. Just a few days ago, the kid had been this shy, nervous thing, hiding and peeking at him like a baby duckling. But now? Now he was strutting around like a proud little peacock, snorting at him like he had something to prove. Without even realizing it, a small smile crept onto Xing Yu’s face.

”You’re smitten,” Dican whispered, barely loud enough to hear, but the teasing was clear.

The smile disappeared instantly. Xing Yu shot him a glare and took a sip of the watered-down human booze in his hand. ”You might wanna think about shutting up for once, Your Highness.”

”Aww, come on! Don’t hit me with the Your Highness thing every time you’re pissed,” Dican grumbled, kicking a few rocks by his feet. ”I’m just calling it like I see it. I mean, seriously—you gave that kid your blood. Your blood, dude! Do you know how insane that is? Royal blood isn’t exactly meant to be handed out like candy.”

Xing Yu glanced at him, his glare speaking louder than any words could.

”What? I’m not wrong!” Dican threw up his hands dramatically. ”I’m just saying—what you did? That’s a big deal.”

Xing Yu let out a quiet sigh. ”Our blood keeps evil away,” he said, his tone clipped but serious. ”You’ve seen those things. The ships? They’ve been lurking around ever since we got here. They might’ve picked up on us. And that boy... he got too close. Anyone we’ve been near has disappeared. I wasn’t gonna let that happen to him.”

Dican’s lips twitched into a smug grin. ”So... you’re worried about him, huh?” he said, drawing out the words in a singsong voice.

Xing Yu didn’t even bother responding. He just spun around and started walking back to the manor, his boots crunching against the gravel.

”Hey, wait for me!” Dican called out, hurrying after him, laughter bubbling in his voice.

Jian slouched further into his corner, doing his best to stay out of sight. The party buzzed around him, full of laughter and chatter, but none of it really reached him. His elder cousin, the host, stood at the center of it all, effortlessly charming the crowd. Jian watched him for a moment, idly swirling his wine around in the glass.

”Why’d he even drag me here?” he muttered under his breath.

Unlike his second cousin, this one didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives. He’d brought Jian to the party and then... just left him alone. Some people might’ve been offended by that, but Jian didn’t mind. Actually, he kind of liked it.

His stomach grumbled, pulling his attention to the buffet table. Quietly, like he was sneaking, he made his way over and loaded a plate with as many pastries and tiny, fancy snacks as he could fit. He made his way back to his corner, plopped down, and immediately took a bite of a golden little pastry.

The tangy sweetness of passionfruit and mango hit him, and his face lit up. ’Worth it,’ he thought, already reaching for the next one.

He was halfway through his plate when the mood in the room shifted. The chatter grew quieter, replaced by murmurs and curious glances. Jian glanced up, confused, and noticed people gravitating toward the ballroom doors, moving like a school of fish toward whatever—or whoever—had arrived.

Then he saw him.

A tall man walked into the room, his white hair tied back in a low ponytail with a few loose strands framing his face. He moved with an easy confidence, casually greeting the crowd, like he was completely at home here.

Jian froze, a pastry halfway to his mouth.

It was him.

The man he never thought he’d see again.

Memories came rushing back, and with them, a sharp stab of guilt. That gift... the one the man had given him... he’d broken it. His chest tightened, and he couldn’t help but stare.

The man’s eyes—those striking green eyes—swept across the room. And then they landed on him.

Jian’s breath caught, his grip tightening on the plate in his lap. He stared back for a second, feeling like a deer caught in headlights, before quickly dropping his gaze to the pastries. His heart was pounding now, way too fast for comfort.

’...His eyes are so pretty...’

The thought made his face heat up, and he shoved another pastry into his mouth, hoping it would distract him. It didn’t. He could still feel those green eyes on him, and it made him want to sink into the floor.