Returning to the Lang Family, Bai Maomao clearly felt that the hostility—or rather, the disdain—the Lang Family once held toward him had vanished.
Whenever he ran into the Lang brothers, they all greeted him politely.
The little vine on his wrist twitched as he shifted position and curled up.
Although he could stay inside his Dan Tian, he seemed to prefer being outside to photosynthesize.
The Lang Family’s sudden change in attitude puzzled Bai Maomao, and he voiced his confusion.
Lang Junxian chuckled softly and reached out to press down the tuft of hair sticking up on Bai Maomao’s head.
“What’s so strange about it? You’re already a Stage Three Expert now. Before, everyone thought you were my…”
Lang Junxian’s words trailed off as he glanced at Bai Maomao with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Bai Maomao was completely bewildered, returning the look with an innocent, pure expression.
Lang Junxian’s gaze burned intensely, almost tangible in its heat, as if he wanted to lick Bai Maomao all over.
Even slow-witted Bai Maomao caught on, his cheeks flushing deep red, the blush creeping down to his neck.
A faint gleam flashed in Lang Junxian’s eyes before he withdrew his gaze, letting out a cryptic chuckle.
Bai Maomao thought: That fluttery feeling in my chest again.
His treatment in the Lang Family had improved by leaps and bounds.
Previously, his cultivation was one level below Lang Junxian’s, and his face was strikingly beautiful, hardly fitting the image of a proper young man.
Even though their relationship was currently as pure as distilled water, the Lang Family’s narrow-mindedness had convinced them that he was Lang Junxian’s secret lover, which made them despise him deeply.
Although his cultivation wasn’t weak, who knew if he had used something to artificially boost it?
To the Lang Family, he was just a little nobody who couldn’t be taken seriously.
But those days were gone.
Bai Maomao had just broken through, and the imposing aura radiating from him hadn’t yet been fully restrained.
A heavy pressure surrounded him, and anyone with a weaker cultivation level needed immense courage just to stand nearby.
Lang Junning fell into that lower category.
The two sons of the Lang Family in this generation were of average talent.
The eldest, Lang Junqi, was slightly better and harsh on himself, having at least reached the Fan Jing Hua Qi stage.
The second son, Lang Junning, was a complete second-generation rich kid, spending most of his time in decadence with little patience or effort for cultivation.
If it weren’t for Lang Juntian’s disdain and the fact that he was forcefully given Foundation Establishment pills, he would probably be an ordinary person now, barely able to touch the threshold of cultivation.
Lang Juntian was losing hair over these two sons.
Fortunately, Lang Junxian appeared—at twenty years old, he was already a Stage Three Expert, a rare talent.
Now, with Bai Maomao added to the mix, Lang Juntian placed even more weight on their shoulders.
His two sons had to take a backseat.
The Lang Family clearly saw the family head’s attitude, and the sympathetic looks toward the two brothers said it all.
Lang Junqi was cunning and deep-thinking.
He always wore a stern face, and if you didn’t notice his clenched fists tucked in his pockets, you’d think he had everything under control.
In contrast, Lang Junning was much more impulsive.
He paced around the room like a headless fly, clearly agitated.
Turning around, he accidentally kicked a stool, recoiling in pain as he sucked in a sharp breath before furiously kicking it aside.
That only made his foot hurt more.
Lang Junqi, bothered by the noise, growled sharply, “Are you done making a scene?”
Spoiled by his mother, Lang Junning was unrestrained and knew his older brother only talked big but couldn’t really do anything.
He scoffed even more boldly, “Hey, Brother, are you just going to stand there and watch that bastard climb all over you?”
A vein throbbed at Lang Junqi’s temple.
He closed his eyes and reminded him, “It’s our bastard.”
“Pfft,” Lang Junning sneered, crossing his legs and shaking them, “Anyway, the family head’s position isn’t up for grabs by me.”
Lang Junqi had no words for his younger brother and turned his face away, “Out of sight, out of mind.”
The room fell silent.
After a moment, Lang Junning spoke again, “Lang Junxian’s bastard sure has lucky stars. No idea where he found such a gem.”
“You—” Lang Junqi looked at his brother oddly but swallowed his warning.
“You like Bai Hongyuan?”
“That’s a gem.”
He smiled with narrowed eyes.
“Not your type.”
Lang Junqi didn’t reply.
He frowned, thinking for a moment before pulling a bottle from his Qian Kun Dai and tossing it to him.
“Here. If you can force-feed this to him, he’s yours.”
Lang Junning caught it, opened the cap, and sniffed.
At first, he was pleased, then suspicious.
“You’re being nice?”
Lang Junqi nodded.
“I’ll deal with Lang Junxian. Whether you can get the guy depends on you.”
“Deal.”
Lang Junning shoved the bottle into his Qian Kun Dai, already imagining how he would bend Bai Hongyuan to his will.
Half a month later, the Lang Family made headlines in every major newspaper.
The front pages reported that the Lang Family had found their second son, missing for many years.
In the photos, Lang Juntian smiled with relief, his eyes shining with fatherly love as he looked at his second son.
Lang Junxian maintained his usual cold expression throughout, but his handsomeness made the photos impossible to dislike—his good looks were hardware; no angle could ruin them.
He was wildly popular with fangirls and fans alike, and thanks to his handsome face, the internet was flooded with small snippets about the Lang Family’s dramas and conflicts.
Bai Maomao held his phone, engrossed in the gossip.
It’s no wonder the wisdom of the working people is infinite.
Lang Junxian barely showed his face and didn’t even open his mouth, yet netizens conjured up countless different rich family dramas all from his looks alone.
At the most exciting parts, Bai Maomao’s little face flushed, his black eyes sparkling.
Lang Junxian snatched the phone from him with a cold expression.
“What are you looking at?”
Bai Maomao smiled sheepishly, reaching out to grab the phone back.
Lang Junxian held it just out of reach.
Bai Maomao was annoyed—little Black had grown taller again!
He was already over 1.9 meters tall, and if he kept growing, he’d practically poke the sky.
Bai Maomao, at a mere 1.78 meters, pouted in frustration.
He couldn’t reach the phone.
Lang Junxian ruffled his tuft of hair.
“Stop looking at this nonsense; it’ll make you stupid.”
Bai Maomao glared with wide eyes.
His small sharp face puffed up, round like a juicy red apple.
Lang Junxian’s throat tickled, craving something fruity to soothe it.
He bent down and planted a peck on that red apple.
“…”
The red apple instantly deflated, turning pointy.
Lang Junxian looked eager for more.
Bai Maomao pushed his face away.
“You kissed me!”
Not a question, but a statement.
His eyes shone brightly, as if a tiny flame was flickering inside.
“Yeah, I kissed you.”
“Then I’m going to kiss you back.”
Bai Maomao’s eyes widened excitedly, his gaze darting over little Black’s face.
His heart pounded in his chest, completely ignoring everything else.
The flood of adrenaline squeezed out all other thoughts.
All he could think about was kissing back!
Lang Junxian readily complied, offering his face.
His sharp, masculine features looked especially tough—if only his ears weren’t turning red.
Then Bai Maomao really kissed him, too excited to find the right spot, burying his mouth into Lang Junxian’s upper lip.
Their straight noses bumped.
Tears welled up in Bai Maomao’s eyes, barely falling as they clung to his lashes, glistening and pitiful.
Lang Junxian felt pain too, but as a tough guy, he couldn’t cry.
He gritted his teeth through the sting in his nose, also trying to comfort the hurt and aggrieved Bai Maomao.
The room’s romantic atmosphere completely dissipated.
Finally, once the discomfort faded and Bai Maomao’s face was no longer flushed, his heart no longer racing, he looked at little Black calmly and asked,
“Do you like me?”
“I do.”
Tears still hanging on his lashes, Bai Maomao grinned, “Perfect. I like you too.”
Lang Junxian was stunned for a moment before helplessly rubbing his head.
This was nothing like the scene he had imagined.
He never expected Bai Maomao to see right through his feelings so quickly, much less to openly confront the truth without hesitation.
But this was exactly Bai Maomao’s style—so dense it was frustrating, yet so clever, always knowing exactly what he wanted.
Their relationship was settled just like that.
Even the servants could feel the change between them.
Before, although the two often walked hand in hand, there was no sticky, sweet pink aura between them.
Now, the servants couldn’t bear to look at them too long, feeling their eyes would go blind if they took another glance.
But when they thought about it carefully, the two were behaving just as usual—so what was really different?
No one could figure it out.
Lang Junning saw it immediately—they were definitely an item now.
Just a few days ago, they had been pure friends; now, in just a few days, they were “good buddies.”
Plans couldn’t keep up with changes.
Lang Junning clenched the little bottle in his Qian Kun Dai, his expression twisted.
He refused to believe he couldn’t get his hands on this little beauty.