Bai Maomao’s cheeks flushed red as he was passively led by Lang Junxian toward the bed.
Lang Junxian was drunk, and his hidden nature was starting to show, his glazed eyes nuzzling against Bai Maomao’s neck.
The scruffy stubble on his chin rubbed against Bai Maomao’s skin, making him itch and feel awkward.
He tried to wriggle away.
“Don’t rub against me. You’ve had too much to drink.”
Lang Junxian paused slightly; a fleeting gleam flashed in his eyes before he resumed nuzzling at Bai Maomao’s neck.
Occasionally, he even stuck out his tongue to lick it!
Bai Maomao was nearly ready to lose it—and worse, he noticed that Xiao Xiaobai was stirring!
This was awkward.
Instinctively, Bai Maomao covered his little brother, feeling particularly flustered.
Just a couple of rubs, how did it turn into that?
Before Bai Maomao could figure it out, Lang Junxian collapsed onto the bed with him.
The bed was large, the mattress soft and bouncy.
Falling onto it felt plush and comforting, and Bai Maomao couldn’t help but nuzzle into it a few times.
Behind him, Lang Junxian held him tightly without letting go.
Bai Maomao was pressed face down on the bed, his anxiety mounting as he struggled more vigorously.
Lang Junxian was relentless, his entire body sprawled on Bai Maomao’s back.
When he felt that heavy presence behind him, Bai Maomao was stunned.
He couldn’t believe it.
Rubbing against it, the solid mass pressed uncomfortably against his most private part, its presence overwhelmingly obvious!
Frustrated and shocked: I treated you like a brother and you’re standing up to me?!
Lang Junxian let out a muffled groan as Bai Maomao rubbed against Xiao Xiaohei a few times, sounding both pained and pleased, eyes closed as he pressed closer.
The presence became even stronger.
“Xiao Hei, Xiao Hei, get up,” Bai Maomao pushed him anxiously.
But it was useless.
Bai Maomao’s soft pushes and whiny voice only encouraged Lang Junxian.
So, politely, Lang Junxian enlarged his presence even more, almost tearing through his pants.
Bai Maomao: QAQ
Lang Junxian rubbed against him like a big dog, the heavy, intimate atmosphere filling the room.
Bai Maomao’s drunkenness seemed to deepen; he lay softly on the bed, dazed and unfocused.
Lang Junxian’s lips curved into a smirk as his hand slipped inside Bai Maomao’s pants…
When Bai Maomao came to his senses, his mind screamed in disbelief—
Xiao Xiaohei and Xiao Xiaobai had spent the entire night face to face, and to make matters worse, Xiao Xiaobai was especially pleased.
Bai Maomao’s face grew redder the more he thought about it, burying it in the pillow and squirming.
A pair of hands rested on his head, and Lang Junxian’s voice sounded, hoarse from the wine, exceptionally seductive.
“Shy now?”
Bai Maomao’s head stayed still, silently pressing into the pillow, pretending to still be asleep.
Lang Junxian chuckled low by his ear, teasing, “Really shy? Want me to let you touch me back tonight?”
Bai Maomao shot him a fierce glare.
“You did it on purpose.”
Lang Junxian put on an innocent face.
“You started it—you rubbed me first.”
So frustrating.
Bai Maomao ignored him in annoyance, hastily putting on his clothes and preparing to go eat breakfast.
But when he reached the door and saw the deep path lined with dense trees, he realized he had no idea where to go.
He was even more annoyed.
Lang Junxian lagged behind by a step, seeing Bai Maomao’s sulking face and couldn’t help but poke him.
“Be good, I’ll let you touch me back tonight, I won’t make the first move, okay?”
Bai Maomao turned the back of his head to him.
At that moment, the Butler appeared at the door.
“Second Young Master, the Jiachu requests your presence for breakfast.”
Lang Junxian’s cheerful face instantly cooled, nodding coldly, “Understood.”
At a time like this, Bai Maomao didn’t argue and took Lang Junxian’s hand, walking with him toward the main house.
In the main house dining room.
Lang Juntian and Lang Furen were already there, along with another couple who, by their age, should be Lang Juntian’s peers—likely Lang Junyi and his wife.
Lang Junyi smiled warmly when he saw Bai Maomao, but the woman beside him shot him a disapproving glare as if unhappy with his friendly gesture.
Lang Junyi just chuckled and poured her some tea.
“You’re here, sit down. Junqi and Junning haven’t arrived yet,” Lang Juntian said.
Lang Junxian nodded and pulled Bai Maomao to sit at the farthest end of the table.
Shortly after, the two Lang brothers arrived.
Lang Junqi was dressed neatly in a suit, his expression serious; Lang Junning wore a flashy shirt with jeans and yawned as he trailed behind.
Lang Juntian scolded them displeased but with a hint of affection, “Junning, you’re getting more and more unruly.”
“Say less about him,” Lang Furen interjected, “He came home late yesterday.”
Lang Junning grinned cheekily as he sat down at the table and agreed, “Yeah, there was a gathering. I didn’t get back until midnight.”
Lang Juntian snorted and stopped reprimanding, picking up his chopsticks to eat.
Once Lang Juntian started eating, the others began as well.
Bai Maomao felt at ease, ignoring the scrutinizing gazes.
His cheeks puffed as he ate, occasionally offering dishes to Lang Junxian.
The two were so affectionate that not only did they not feel neglected, but they also showed off their romance to the others.
After breakfast, Lang Juntian began the introductions.
The slightly older couple was indeed Lang Junyi and his wife.
The Lang family had only two brothers in Lang Juntian’s generation.
Lang Juntian, as the eldest, naturally inherited the Family Business.
Lang Junyi spent most of his time at home, helping with the business and living comfortably.
Fortunately, Lang Junyi was known for being honest and obedient, always following his brother’s arrangements and never causing trouble.
So the Lang family had passed through quietly with no Brotherly Wall Incident scandals.
Lang Junyi had only one son, who had been abroad and hadn’t returned.
At the table were the two legitimate full brothers, Lang Junqi and Lang Junning.
Lang Junqi, the eldest, had always been groomed as the heir.
Although not outstanding, he was respectable.
Lang Junning, the second son, was a typical spoiled heir, spending his days indulging in food and drink.
With both sons disappointing, having another to groom was no longer an option—this was why Lang Juntian was so eager to officially recognize Lang Junxian.
After finishing introductions, Lang Junxian called each person by name.
When it came to Lang Furen, he hesitated but eventually said “Lang Furen.”
Lang Furen clutched her chest, hurt and aggrieved, glaring at Lang Juntian.
Lang Juntian was silent for a moment but finally agreed to Lang Junxian’s request.
The boy had just returned; he couldn’t be pushed too hard.
“Junxian just came back. It’s just a matter of a formality.”
With the Jiachu’s word, everyone else shut their mouths.
But Lang Junxian was not one to settle quietly.
He spoke again, “When can I see my mother?”
Lang Juntian’s face turned pale, and Lang Furen slammed her teacup down on the table before turning away.
The Lang brothers exchanged hostile glances.
Lang Junyi remained calm and quiet, sitting with almost no presence.
Lang Junxian seemed oblivious to the tense atmosphere and calmly asked once more, “When can I see my mother?”
“In three days,” Lang Juntian replied, also looking troubled.
This newly recognized son was not a pushover—he was stubborn.
Leaving the dining room, Bai Maomao stretched lazily and walked slowly back to the courtyard with Lang Junxian.
The sunlight outside was warm, casting a soft golden glow on Bai Maomao, outlining his fur with a fuzzy edge.
Lang Junxian hurried to catch up, taking Bai Maomao’s hand as they returned to the courtyard.
With no ears around, Bai Maomao relaxed and spoke freely.
He was a bit happy.
“In three days, we can go pay respects to Auntie.”
“Mm.”
Lang Junxian rubbed his head absentmindedly.
“Not happy?”
Bai Maomao asked curiously.
“Silly Maomao,” Lang Junxian mocked with a smile, “I doubt my mother’s remains still exist.”
The Lang family had wanted nothing more than to catch and cremate the two of them back then.
How could they have set up a monument or buried her in the Lang Family Ancestor’s Tomb?
Lang Juntian’s lies were never believed by Lang Junxian—this was just a convenient excuse to get back into the Lang family.
Bai Maomao’s happy expression fell, his signature tuft drooping.
His eyes looked downcast.
“I’m not sad, why are you?”
Lang Junxian sighed helplessly and pulled him close.
“Mother would be happy. After death, she’s finally free from the Lang family’s prison.”
The Lang family had trapped his mother her whole life.
Now, even if she was buried in a desolate place, she would surely be relieved.
But Bai Maomao was not comforted at all.
He looked even more dejected.
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