Chapter 11

In the days that followed, he and I were like water from separate wells, not interfering with each other.

Every night, he would come to my room, pretending to have me tutor him for an hour.

In reality, he was just reading my comic books.

I couldn’t understand my dad’s logic; did he really think cozying up to the boss’s son would help him get promoted?

From what I’ve seen, Liam Evans has been here for days, and no one has come looking for him. I suspect he’s already struggling to keep himself afloat.

“When do you plan to stop freeloading at my house?” I asked him while playing games beside him.

Without turning to look at me, he replied, “Until my dad throws me abroad.”

“Studying abroad?” I asked.

“Sort of…” He didn’t intend to engage with me.

“Studying abroad is great, coming back with a degree makes you a high achiever. Which school are you going to?” I casually asked.

He paused and said self-mockingly, “Depends on which school he decides to throw money at.”

So… he’s that wealthy? This is an opportunity many people dream of, yet he seems indifferent. Truly a young master unaware of the hardships of the world.

Suddenly feeling a surge of goodwill, I decided to advise him.

“Actually, your dad treats you quite well. Even though he hits you, he’s still willing to spend money for your future.”

He was taken aback, a slight smile at the corner of his mouth, “After all, he never spent time on me, only money.”

After saying that, he put down the book and went to the balcony to smoke.

Isn’t he already 20 years old? Why is he still in a rebellious phase?

Taking advantage of the 30 seconds when my game character died, I walked to the balcony, staring at him, thinking of many wise words, but when he looked at me, my brain short-circuited, and I forgot them all.

“Why do you, a kid, like smoking so much?”

He moved the hand holding the cigarette to the other side, lowered his eyes to look at me, “Kid or not… you know.”

I was speechless again. The scene from that night flashed through my mind, and I suddenly felt my cheeks getting warm.

I quickly changed the subject on purpose, “Smoking is bad, why don’t you know better?”

He paused for a moment, then asked me softly, “Concerned about me?”

“I… if you don’t listen to my advice, forget it.”

He fell silent, and after a long pause, he said, “You’re just like them… why should I live according to others’ advice?”

His tone carried emotion, though I didn’t know why, I could sense his displeasure.

So rebellious…

“It’s not like you have to listen to everything; you can choose selectively…” I organized my thoughts, “You don’t have to go against your family, right?”

He’s been here for days, not answering calls from home, not responding to his girlfriend’s calls either, as if he’s determined to oppose his family completely.

Seeing no end to his stay, I’m starting to get anxious.

“Then what do you think is right?” He asked me with a smile, his emotions had calmed down.

“Everything can be discussed, not answering calls is unreasonable.”

He stared at me for a while, and I thought he would refute me, but instead, he just said, “Sleep.”

After saying that, he waved his hand at me, leaving me with only his back.

So arrogant? If he were my brother, I would have beaten him to death.

“So rude.” I couldn’t help but curse.

He stopped at the door, remained silent for a while, then turned back to me, lowered his head with a smile, and asked, “Then what counts as polite?”

“When someone is still talking, you can’t just walk away. Didn’t your mom teach you?” I took a step back.

His smile froze, something flickered in his eyes, and he softly said, “She didn’t.”

He’s lying, unwilling to listen, dragging his mom into it.

“Can’t be bothered to talk to you.” I decided not to argue with him anymore; there’s no point in discussing with him.

He suddenly stepped back, looked up, “She died.”

Without any hesitation, he walked out of my room.

My mind went blank for a moment, completely stunned.

His mom is gone? I never heard my dad mention it…

By the time I reacted, he was already gone.

I seem to have made a mistake.

That night, lying in bed, I recalled the way he said “She died,” even though he said it so lightly, why did I feel he was very sad?

Thinking of my words, “Didn’t your mom teach you?” I wanted to slap myself.

Unable to sleep due to guilt, I got up in the dark and went to his room.