NOVEL NEXT Chapter 430: The Cabbage and The Pig
Micah reached the top of the stairs, walking down the quiet hallway toward his room. His hand had just brushed the doorknob when the sound of another door opening drew his attention. He stopped, glancing sideways.
The room right beside his was Darcy's room. Darcy stepped out, tall and composed, his dark eyes immediately locking onto him. "Hey," he said in a low voice. "Did you eat out?"
Micah paused and turned his head. "No. I've been eating at home," he mumbled.
The truth was that for the past two weeks, he had no appetite and no will to go out and eat alone.
Darcy's shoulders relaxed as if relieved. "Good. I made some fish soup for you. It's good for your health. I'll go and add shrimp to it. Come down and eat." He turned as though the matter was settled, already starting toward the stairs.
"Wait!" The words slipped out before Micah could stop them. He reached forward, fingers curling into the fabric of Darcy's shirt, halting him. "I… we…"
Darcy stopped mid-step. He turned his head back slowly, one brow lifting. "What is it?"
Micah swallowed hard, looking at those dark eyes. His palms got sweaty. He didn't know why he was dreading the two of them, Clyde and Darcy, meeting, but he forced himself to say it. "Clyde is coming over."
Darcy's expression shifted for a split second, but it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. His face smoothed into composure again. "For dinner?"
"No. He'll be staying with us…" His voice trailed off when Darcy stepped close. Micah instinctively leaned back against the wall as the dark-haired boy reached out, fingers brushing at the collar of his shirt. In one smooth motion, Darcy tugged the fabric downward, exposing the side of Micah's neck.
A muscle pulsed in Darcy's temple. His jaw clicked, and he said through gritted teeth. "Have you already met him?"
Micah looked at him questioningly. "Yeah… what? Why?" He reached up instinctively, fingers grazing his own neck. "Is there something on my neck?"
Darcy's gaze lingered too long on the faint mark on Micah's skin. His hands trembled faintly before he released the collar, letting it snap back into place. "It's nothing. A bug must have bitten you. I'll give you some cream later," he said, voice tight.
Micah tilted his head, puzzled. But before he could question further, Darcy turned around and walked downstairs. His voice echoed behind him. "I'll add another serving."
Micah stood frozen in the hallway, staring after him. A strange feeling filled his mind. He gave his head a quick shake, dismissing the unease, and slipped into his own room.
He quickly took a shower and threw on a casual t-shirt and shorts. Hurrying, Micah went down, worrying Clyde would arrive in the meantime and face Darcy and Zhou Ruyan alone.
When he reached the living room, Darcy was setting a small teapot on the table. He looked up immediately, his brows knitting. His eyes flicked to the damp strands clinging to Micah's temples, then down to the droplets falling onto the floor. "Why didn't you dry your hair? Look, the floor's already wet," he said and strode to a nearby closet. He returned with a towel in hand and, without asking, dropped it over Micah's head. His hands rubbed gently but firmly on his hair, drying the strands.
Micah lowered his head obediently and did not resist.
Darcy's hand moved, his fingers brushing the base of Micah's neck. His eyes kept darting to that hickey.
He quickly pulled back, afraid of what he might do if he lingered.
Micah mumbled a thanks and rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes had already passed. Clyde should be arriving soon.
The door was knocked on a cue. Micah jumped, his body moving instinctively, wanting to get to the door before Zhou Ruyan's voice cut through the air like a command. "Sit down."
Zhou Ruyan glanced at her grandson and finally understood what people meant when they said their cabbage had been stolen by a pig. They had raised Micah on the palm of their hands, and out of the blue, an unknown man fell from the sky and wanted to steal him! And worse, that silly grandson of hers couldn't wait to rush out to be eaten.
Micah froze, then lowered himself back onto the couch, his movement stiff.
Meanwhile, the butler had already moved to answer it. The creak of hinges followed.
"Welcome, please, come in. The old Madam is waiting for you." Butler Sunny said practised politeness.
Micah's lips twitched in a grimace. He threw a look at his grandmother.
Zhou Ruyan put down the teacup calmly, her face unreadable.
Clyde stepped inside, his presence immediately filling the room. He carried himself with quiet confidence, his posture impeccable. In his hands, he held the carefully chosen gifts, which he handed smoothly to the butler before bowing slightly toward Zhou Ruyan. "Good evening, ma'am."
Zhou Ruyan's eyes swept over him from head to toe. Too polished. Too handsome. Too cold. His eyes carried a weight, a maturity that didn't belong to someone so young. She didn't like it. "Evening, sir," she replied curtly. Then she gestured lightly to the seating far away from Micah. "Please, have a seat."
She watched as the man looked at Micah for a brief second, then, after Micah's nod, he finally sat down.
Zhou Ruyan raised an eyebrow. Not bad. At least the man knew to check with Micah first before acting.
"Grandma, this is my...friend. Clyde Du Pont." Micah forced the words out, too embarrassed to say the actual word.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," Clyde said.
"Likewise," she replied curtly. She threw a glare at Micah. The cheeky boy had deliberately failed to mention something crucial, that the man was from the Du Pont family. She hadn't been keeping up with the powerhouses of Isatis city for a long time. So she had no idea the man sitting in front of her was the infamous patriarch. Otherwise, she would have twisted Micah's ear for hanging out with the wrong crowd.