Chapter 33 "Want You"

"Mom?!" 

Huaixu shoved Jing Zhengxuan away, frantically wiping his lips.

How could they have been caught by his mom here, of all places?!

Jing Zhengxuan staggered slightly but quickly steadied himself, standing tall in front of Huaixu. 

"Auntie Mo, we—"

Before he could finish, Huaixu pinched the back of his hand sharply, shooting him a warning glare before turning to Huaimo with an awkward laugh. 

"Mom, let me explain."

Huaimo’s expression cycled through a myriad of emotions, her gaze flickering between the two before she finally exhaled, forcing herself to remain composed.

She jerked her chin toward the exit. "Let’s go."

This wasn’t the place for this conversation.

Huaixu and Jing Zhengxuan followed her like guilty puppies.

Back home, Huaimo stepped out of the car first, smiling politely. "Zhengxuan, I won’t see you off. You can walk back yourself."

Her tone was gentle, but her eyes were laced with wariness, guilt, and worry.

Jing Zhengxuan pressed his lips together. "Auntie Mo, this isn’t Huaixu’s fault. It was all my scheming. Let me explain."

Huaixu tugged at his sleeve, whispering urgently, "What are you saying?! Just go home!"

Jing Zhengxuan ignored him, meeting Huaimo’s gaze head-on.

Huaimo’s lips curled slightly, but her eyes remained icy. "This matter, I’ll hear it from my own child. Your reckoning will come later."

Huaixu tugged at Jing Zhengxuan’s sleeve again, pleading softly, "Listen to me, just go home first."

His mother might seem gentle, but she had a spine of steel—how else could a woman have built an empire from scratch?

Huaimo glanced at her son but didn’t stop his fidgeting.

Jing Zhengxuan’s jaw tightened. He patted Huaixu’s hand reassuringly before suddenly addressing Huaimo:

"Mom. From today on, I’m your son too."

Huaixu: "..."

Absolutely no fucking words.

Huaimo’s pupils trembled before she let out a disbelieving laugh. "You’re quick to claim the title. But Zhengxuan, you’re not even twenty yet—do you really think you can make decisions like this?"

Without waiting for a response, she grabbed Huaixu’s arm. "Let’s go."

Huaixu stumbled after her, glancing back at Jing Zhengxuan and mouthing "Go home!"

But Jing Zhengxuan wasn’t having it. He moved to follow—only for a wall of burly bodyguards to block his path.

A furious voice cut through the air.

"Go home."

Jing Zhengxuan looked up at the window, where Huaixu was waving at him reassuringly.

Remembering how much Huaimo doted on Huaixu, he relaxed slightly.

She’d probably just ask some questions.

Exhaling, Jing Zhengxuan clenched his fists and strode home, his expression cold.

He’d been preparing for this storm for years.

---

In the Hua family’s second-floor sitting room, Huaixu sat stiffly on a single-seater sofa, his hands rubbing nervously against his knees. He didn’t dare look up, only sneaking glances at his silent mother.

Guilt gnawed at him. He should’ve told her sooner.

He’d wanted to, but fear had held him back—and now it had blown up in his face.

If only he’d been braver.

His head drooped lower. He felt utterly ashamed, unworthy of his mother’s years of love and care.

But if she asked him to break up with Jing Zhengxuan…

The mere thought made his chest ache, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

Outside, the sky was overcast, mist shrouding the distant mountains, the usual vibrant greens dulled to murky shadows. Not a single ray of sunlight—just like his mood.

Mom must be so disappointed.

He peeked at her again.

Huaimo sat deep in thought, fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest.

The silence stretched unbearably. Finally, Huaixu cracked.

"Mom… I like Ah Xuan."

He needed to be brave, like Jing Zhengxuan.

Huaimo looked up, studying him.

When she didn’t respond, Huaixu added, "We’re serious."

Huaimo sighed, rubbing her temples as if weighed down by exhaustion.

Huaixu’s nails dug into his palms, the slight pain grounding him.

"Mom, don’t… don’t scare me like this," he whispered, his voice trembling.

Huaimo lifted her gaze, suddenly feeling a decade older.

She’d always carried guilt over Huaixu’s frail health, blaming herself for his childhood spent drowning in medicine. She’d spoiled him, given him everything—and in return, Huaixu had grown into a warm, kind soul, a little sun brightening everyone’s lives.

Sometimes, she wondered if his body was weak because he burned too brightly for others.

Her suspicions had started on New Year’s Day, when Huaixu suddenly wore high-necked sweaters.

Then, a few days ago, she’d spotted what looked like a hickey on his neck.

And twice, Jing Zhengxuan had answered for him.

That’s why she’d followed them today—only to witness that.

Her worst fears had come true.

She didn’t care if Huaixu liked men or women—as long as he was happy.

But Jing Zhengxuan?

The Jings were old money, tangled in tradition. As the eldest grandson, Jing Zhengxuan was the heir—expected to carry on the family line.

If only he had a brother, things might’ve been easier.

But if Huaixu was serious… what then?

She’d met Jing Zhengxuan’s grandfather—a sharp-eyed old man whose quiet demeanor exuded authority.

Against someone like that, she stood no chance.

She exhaled shakily, pulling Huaixu onto the couch beside her, clasping his hands.

"Axun, do you really like him?"

Huaixu blinked at her sudden shift, then nodded firmly. "Yes. Mom, you like Ah Xuan too, don’t you? You always said he was practically your son."

Huaimo choked.

She had said that—jokingly.

Back then, she’d been thrilled that moving houses had given Huaixu such a devoted friend.

Who knew "friend" would become "boyfriend"?

Objectively, she was grateful for how Jing Zhengxuan had cared for Huaixu all these years—far better than she could’ve hoped for.

But gratitude didn’t mean handing her son over.

The Jings were old money. Her family couldn’t compete.

Ignoring his words, she asked, "What if the road ahead is hard? Can you handle it?"

Huaixu fell silent.

He’d agreed in the heat of the moment, without thinking ahead.

What would Jing Zhengxuan’s parents say?

They’d expect him to marry a girl, continue the family line.

Same-sex marriage was legal, but it couldn’t produce heirs.

Marriage meant alliances, power, inheritance—things old families took deadly seriously.

He trusted Jing Zhengxuan, but what if his family pressured him?

Would he make things difficult for him?

The light in Huaixu’s eyes dimmed. He stared at the intricate carpet patterns, messy and tangled—just like his thoughts.

Suddenly, he understood his mother’s expression.

Not anger. Not disappointment.

Just worry.

Worry for him.

"Mom…" He slumped against her shoulder, his eyes misting over like the fog outside.

Huaimo patted his back. "Axun, I just want you happy. But with Zhengxuan… you might not be. Maybe it’s better to end things now. You’re young, handsome—plenty would love you."

Huaixu listened numbly, his gaze drifting to the window, where two sparrows preened each other affectionately.

Logically, he knew she was right.

But his heart ached.

A hot tear slipped free before he realized he was crying.

Once the dam broke, he couldn’t stop—sobbing into her shoulder, his words fragmented.

"I d-don’t… don’t wanna…"

Huaimo’s own eyes burned, but she bit her lip hard, refusing to cry.

If only she were stronger. If only she could protect him from this.

What was wrong with loving someone? Why did her child have to suffer?

"It’s my fault," she whispered. "Blame me."

Huaixu pulled back, wiping his tears with a shaky smile. "How could it be your fault? I’ll… I’ll figure it out. Just give me time, okay?"

His smile didn’t reach his eyes, his face etched with sorrow.

Her heart shattered.

Her sweet, thoughtful boy—always smiling through pain, swallowing bitter pills without complaint.

Why did life have to be so cruel to him?

A thought struck her.

How many people truly found love in their lifetime?

What if losing Jing Zhengxuan meant Huaixu never smiled genuinely again?

She wiped his tears gently.

"Axun, do you believe you can overcome those hardships?"

Like sunlight piercing fog, hope lit up Huaixu’s eyes.

His lips trembled before he nodded firmly. "Yes. I do."

It hadn’t been long, but these few days had shown him one thing—

With Jing Zhengxuan, he wanted to live a hundred more years.

Without him, nineteen would be enough.

Huaimo smiled faintly, though worry still lingered. "And Zhengxuan? Do you believe he can?"

Huaixu hesitated.

Could he?

The pressure on Jing Zhengxuan would be even greater.

Maybe he shouldn’t be selfish.

Before he could answer, a deep voice cut in—

"I’ve already overcome them."

"Auntie Mo, I promise—I’ll never let Huaixu cry again."

Huaixu turned.

Jing Zhengxuan stood there, his gaze unwavering, bruises on his face, blood at the corner of his lips.

Huaixu shot up. "What happened?! Who hit you?!"

---

Jing Zhengxuan had been preparing for this for years.

The Jing family was vast, but power lay with two people—his grandfather and his father.

And his father?

Jing Heheng listened to his wife.

Win over Xi Qing, and Jing Heheng would follow.

As for his grandfather?

That required more finesse.

The daily "outings" during school? All part of the plan.

After refusing arranged matches, he’d noticed tails—undoubtedly his grandfather’s doing.

He’d bribed one, feeding false intel back.

Then, he’d staged photos—intimate looking, but no actual contact.

Still disgusting.

But for Huaixu’s future acceptance, he’d endured.

The photos were released in three batches.

The first batch had enraged his grandfather, who’d called, screaming—but stopped pushing matches.

The Jings had their shadows, but they didn’t toy with innocent lives.

The second batch?

New men.

His grandfather had video-called, livid. "Even if you’re gay, must you be a playboy?!"

The third batch?

Multiple men in one frame.

His grandfather had stormed to Jin City, berating him face-to-face—until Jing Zhengxuan cried.

That stopped him cold.

Jing Zhengxuan never cried.

Not from scolding. Not even from beatings.

So he’d confessed—his love for Huaixu, his heartache, his self-destructive spiral.

A perfect performance of a man ruined by unrequited love.

His grandfather had sat in silence for three minutes.

Of course he knew Huaixu—a good boy. Without him, Jing Zhengxuan might’ve grown up twisted.

Liking him proved his grandson had taste.

But—

Huaixu was an only son. Would his mother really agree?

The old man had principles. He wouldn’t force things.

Finally, he’d asked, "Can you let go?"

Jing Zhengxuan’s reply was instant. "If I let go, don’t ask about my life again. Without Huaixu, I’m already dead."

His grandfather had nearly had a stroke.

Then sighed. "Fine. If you can win him, I’ll swallow my pride and beg his mother myself."

Jing Zhengxuan had bowed his head, hiding a smirk.

"Thank you, Grandfather."

Now, he summarized vaguely for Huaimo—"Grandfather agreed."—omitting the theatrics.

Huaimo stared, stunned but relieved.

Huaixu dabbed at his wounds. "Who did this?"

Jing Zhengxuan gazed at him, aching to kiss him but restraining himself.

He smiled reassuringly. "Dad. It’s nothing."

Then, to Huaimo: "Auntie Mo, Dad said he hit me on your behalf—since you might hold back. If you’re still angry, he’ll beat me again. As many times as you want. I won’t fight back."

Huaimo: "..."

Before she could speak, Huaixu was giving her puppy-dog eyes, as if she were the villain.

She sighed.

All those years raising him—wasted.

---

That night, Xi Qing and Jing Heheng arrived at the Hua residence—to apologize.

Huaimo took one look at Xi Qing’s guilty face and realized—

"You knew?"

Xi Qing nodded sheepishly. "I couldn’t help it, you know how—"

Huaimo waved her off. "If they’re both willing, I won’t object. But can your family truly accept this?"

"Of course!" Xi Qing beamed, producing a list. "This is Huaixu’s betrothal gifts. Since they’re both willing, why not set a date?"

Huaimo stared.

She hadn’t expected the Jings to move this fast.

Xi Qing unfurled the list eagerly.

A fleet of luxury cars.

A private jet.

A yacht worth billions.

Multiple high-end properties.

Private islands.

Stocks, funds, shares…

Huaimo wasn’t easily impressed, but even she was stunned.

She’d known the Jings were wealthy, but this?

Xi Qing continued cheerfully, "For the wedding, we’re thinking both Western and traditional ceremonies. How does that sound?"

Huaimo pushed the list back. "This is too much. I’m not selling my son."

Xi Qing laughed. "It’s not like that! We just feel Huaixu’s too good for Zhengxuan. Who else would put up with his temper? This is compensation."

Huaimo relented slightly. "Let’s ask Huaixu. If he agrees, I won’t stop it."

Xi Qing brightened, exchanging a look with Jing Heheng. "Perfect! Now, about the wedding date—"

---

Upstairs, in Huaixu’s room, the two "newlyweds" cuddled.

Huaixu lay with his head on Jing Zhengxuan’s arm, their legs tangled like intertwined vines.

Jing Zhengxuan stroked his hair gently, gazing at him.

"Do you regret it?" he murmured.

Huaixu traced the groove of Jing Zhengxuan’s spine. "Regret what?"

Jing Zhengxuan pulled him closer, burying his face in Huaixu’s neck, inhaling deeply—as if trying to steep his lungs in Huaixu’s peach-sweet scent.

"Regret being with me."

Huaixu dug his nails into Jing Zhengxuan’s back playfully. "So much regret."

Jing Zhengxuan flipped him onto his back instantly, eyes dark with desire. "Then I’ll make sure you can’t regret it."

Huaixu pushed at him, blushing. "Your parents are downstairs!"

Jing Zhengxuan kissed his forehead. "Axun."

"What?"

A kiss on the eyelid. Then the nose. A teasing lick at his lips.

Their foreheads touched.

The room was so quiet Huaixu could hear his own heartbeat—and the way Jing Zhengxuan’s breath hitched.

A feather-light kiss landed on his lips, then trailed to his ear.

Hot. Ticklish.

"I want you."

The whisper sent Huaixu’s pulse skyrocketing.

Thud.

Thud.

THUD.

His heart threatened to burst from his chest.

---

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