Chapter 383: Two-Legged Pig on the Loose
The indoor garden was quiet except for the soft trickle of a small fountain. Sunlight filtered through the glass ceiling, painting the space with dotted light. The scent of damp soil mixed with rose hung in the air. Micah sat hunched on the chair beside Zhou Ruyan, his mask tugged slightly down so he could sip at the tea she had poured him earlier. His leg bounced restlessly, heel tapping against the tiled floor.
"Grandma, I’m out of options," Micah whispered at last.
Zhou Ruyan set her teacup down elegantly, her hand resting lightly on the porcelain lid. She studied him, the lines around her eyes tightening in concern. "Why don’t you let me try?" she suggested gently.
"No," Micah immediately shook his head. "I thought about it. If someone from Ramsy’s family steps in, he will either think you’re trying to pressure him to not come back to the family, or he’ll assume you are trying to use him because there is no suitable heir. It’ll affect his judgment." His hands twisted together in his lap, restless fingers fidgeting at his sleeves. "It’s better he learns accidentally. But I don’t know how..."
Her brows lifted slightly, her sharp intuition flickering through. "Do you want him to see my brother’s picture?"
Micah’s head jerked up. "Will that be enough to pique his curiosity?" His tone was wary, as if afraid even to hope.
"Most people would," she said simply, looking at the pink rose bush nearby. "You can try."
"Mmmn," Micah hummed in response, thoughtful.
"I assume you have dealt with whatever reasons were holding you back, hm?" she asked, her gaze narrowing.
Micah blinked for half a second before letting out a dry chuckle. "Half done. The rest... I found a backup... so I’m not so stressed about it anymore."
Her lips quirked, both amused and suspicious. "Oh? You’re asking some stranger for help? That’s a first."
"I know!" Micah’s grin spread wider, his teeth flashing, his eyes softening with a warmth he didn’t even realise was slipping out. The thought of Clyde lightened his heart.
"If you need help, just know you can count on me," she said, her tone soft but resolute. She reached over, patting his knees lightly.
"Thanks, Grandma." He exhaled slowly. After a moment of silence, he spoke, his mischievous surfacing. "Right, speaking of help... can I sneak out from here?"
Zhou Ruyan’s eyes turned sharp. "What mischievous idea is in your potato head this time?"
"Grandma!" Micah gasped in exaggerated offence. "How could you call me a potato head? Just because you saw the perfect new grandson once, now I’ve already lost your favour?"
She looked up and down, staring at Micah’s face. "Look at yourself in the mirror before denying it!"
Micah groaned. "I was beaten unjustly! It wasn’t like I volunteered for that! If I were in my best form, I would have crushed them in a second."
"Yeah, yeah. You are a tough boy." she waved a hand dismissively, though her smile betrayed her affection. "Promise me you won’t cause trouble again, alright?"
"Look at me, Grandma! I’m basically a two-legged walking pig. What trouble can I cause?" Micah argued, puffing his cheeks childishly beneath the mask.
"Fine. Just be careful." she gave in, sighing.
Micah leaned forward and flashed her a wide grin. "Okay. Love you, Grandma," he said, before rising to his feet and leaving the garden.
The moment he stepped outside, the cool air hit against his bruised skin. Micah tugged his cap lower, pulling the mask higher, and walked the stone path, taking the shortcut to the outside of the Ramsy mansion. His body ached, but he forced himself to continue.
In the back alley, he looked around until he spotted the familiar car. Sliding into the backseat, he buckled himself and huffed. "I told you I could go by myself," he lamented, shooting a sideways look at Clyde, who sat beside him with his laptop open across his knees.
Without even glancing up, Clyde typed swiftly. "No, I’ll die of anxiety not knowing what kind of trouble you’re up to. Better to be by your side." His tone was dry, laced with calm sarcasm.
Micah cursed under his breath and turned his head to stare out the window, his ears heating under the cap. He muttered inwardly, annoyed. This man couldn’t utter sweet words at all. Always poking at his sore spots.
"Where’s Emile?" Clyde asked suddenly, showing a rare flicker of concern for his nephew.
"At my home. With my family." Micah mumbled.
"You left him behind?" Clyde’s lips stretched upwards, eyes full of amusement.
"He was the one who wanted to come, so I left him there." Micah shrugged.
Clyde chuckled low in his throat. "You hateful shrew... what did he do?"
"I don’t know what you’re talking about." Micah feigned ignorance, his eyes darting away too quickly to be convincing.
"Fine," Clyde allowed, shutting his laptop with a soft click and placing it in the seat beside him. He turned slightly. "Where to go?"
"Did you get what I asked you?"
"Yeah," Clyde’s lips twitched. "My secretary got them."
"Oh boy... is he trustworthy? Well, even if he is... in the end, it will blow up. Your employees must’ve been shocked seeing the receipt! Their boss is ordering women’s clothes and breast pads!" Micah cracked up.
"So, what else should I have done? Go straight to a store myself?" Clyde said, amusement in his eyes.
Micah snorted, still laughing. "Nah, order online. Then pick it up. Simple."
"You are so experienced." Clyde teased, leaning his head slightly toward him.
"Shut up," Micah huffed, smacking his arm lightly before folding his arms across his chest, then flinching in pain, forgetting his broken ribs. "Let’s go to your place. I have to change," he said, trying to sound normal.
Clyde’s eyes lingered on him for a moment, taking in the mask, the cap, the stubborn way Micah suppressed his discomfort. Then he said calmly. "With that ugly, bruised face, does it matter whether you are a girl or a boy?"
"Hey! Watch yourself, mister!" Micah hissed, glaring at him. "Even injured, I’m sure I could take a chunk out of you in a blink."
"Sorry, my bad. You are always beautiful in my eyes, even if you turn into a zombie."
"Are you itching for a beating?" Micah tilted his head, chin out, like an arrogant cat ready to crush a bug under his paws.
A smile spread on Clyde’s face. He leaned toward Micah and whispered, his breath brushing into his ear. "Maybe."
Micah shivered, pushing him away. "You’re nuts."
Clyde reached out and grabbed Micah’s hand into his own. "Mmm... I think I am still shaken, afraid you might disappear again."
Micah pursed his lips, eyes full of guilt. He squeezed Clyde’s hand, offering reassurance in action instead of words.
The car pulled out smoothly, sliding into the road. They drove through quiet Sunday streets. Eventually, the tall silhouette of Clyde’s apartment came into view.