The Fake Son Wants to Live [BL]-Chapter 87 - - Only person who cared

Xing Yu stood frozen, staring at the boy who had just rejected him.

He had expected hesitation, maybe even reluctance. But outright rejection?

That was a shock.

His kind was known for being social creatures. The children banded together, living in close-knit groups as if it were instinct. It was their nature to seek companionship, to rely on one another. Yet, since young, he had never found comfort in that.

Not once.

The Third Prince had pestered him endlessly, insisting they should live together, that it was only natural. But the very thought had repulsed him. The idea of sharing his space, of letting someone close enough to see his weaknesses, had always been unbearable.

And now, for the first time in his life, he had extended an offer.

Only to be rejected. So easily. So effortlessly.

Jian had spoken his piece and turned away without a second glance.

Xing Yu's eyes followed him as he ascended the staircase, his small frame disappearing into the shadows of the upper floor.

He felt something foreign twist inside him.

Frustration?

No, not quite.

Something deeper. Something he couldn't place.

"I'm sorry about him," Wang Bushen whispered, stepping closer, trying to smooth things over. "He must be angry about what happened today."

Xing Yu scoffed under his breath. Angry? That was an understatement.

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But it wasn't just anger. The boy's refusal wasn't born solely from temper or pride.

It was distrust.

Jian didn't trust him. He didn't trust anyone.

That realization settled in Xing Yu's chest like a weight.

"...Never mind," he muttered, forcing himself to push the thoughts aside. His gaze flickered up to the top floor, lingering for a moment longer before he pulled out a card.

"This is my number." He handed it to Wang Bushen, his expression unreadable. "Give it to the boy. Tell him to call me anytime he is in trouble."

His grip tightened for a brief second before he let go.

Then, his sharp, silver eyes locked onto Wang Bushen's.

"I hope," his voice was low but firm, "that he is never in trouble after this."

A warning.

Wang Bushen nodded hastily, a flicker of nervousness in his expression. "I'll make sure he's safe and sound. You can rest assured, Mister Yu."

Xing Yu swallowed down the strange feeling lodged in his throat and turned away.

As he walked out of the mansion, the cool night air hit him, but it did nothing to clear the thoughts storming in his mind.

Jian's words echoed back at him. "You're a stranger to me."

They really were strangers to each other

So why did it bother him so much?

On the other hand jian did not even look back. He ran up the stairs into his room in a hurry. "grandpa!"

The old man was seen sitting on the bed holding a half folded blanket in his hand.

Jian swallowed the lump in his throat and held his grandfather tightly. The old man smelled of herbal medicine, the familiar scent calming him like a gentle embrace.

"Ah, Jian... it's strange." His grandfather sighed, rubbing his temples. "Yesterday, I felt like Bian was here... he was talking like you, acting like you. It was strange..."

Jian stiffened.

Of course, his grandfather had noticed. How could he not? This was the man who had helped raise them, who had seen them since they were in diapers. Unlike the others, his grandfather never confused them.

"When he returned home yesterday," his grandfather continued, frowning deeply, "I called his name—Bian—but he just smiled coldly and whispered, 'I'm Jian now. Bian is with Grandmother.'"

Jian clenched his fists. That bastard. Even in his absence, Bian was still trying to dig his claws in deeper.

"I was very confused, really. Did you two play a prank on Grandpa?" The old man smiled gently, raising a trembling hand to pat Jian's cheek.

Jian forced a wide, cheerful smile. "Yeah... we were playing a prank. But Bian had to go home."

He lied.

How could he tell the truth? That Bian had stolen his identity? That his own father had not noticed? That the only reason he was standing here now was because someone else—someone he barely knew—had interfered?

No.

That truth would only break his grandfather's heart.

"Ah, you little rascal," the old man chuckled, squeezing his face affectionately. "Always so clingy."

Jian swallowed down the lump in his throat as he hugged his grandfather tighter.

The old man smelled of herbal medicine and the faint scent of the wooden beads he always carried around. It was warm, comforting—like home.

For a moment, Jian allowed himself to sink into that warmth, closing his eyes as he held onto the one person who had never once wavered in recognizing him.

"You've gotten thinner," his grandfather murmured, gently cupping his face with his rough, calloused hands. "Are you eating well? The Wang family feeds us so well, yet you're growing thinner by the day..."

Jian smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I eat well, Grandpa. I just have a fast metabolism."

The lie rolled off his tongue effortlessly.

The truth was far uglier.

For years, he had lived on scraps, on whatever leftovers tossed his way. He had learned not to complain, not to demand more. He had learned to be grateful for whatever he got because they had made it clear—he was lucky to even be given that much.

And now, even though his situation had changed, his habits hadn't. He still ate quickly, quietly, and never more than what he thought was necessary. It was ingrained in him. A survival instinct.

His grandfather hummed, clearly not convinced.

"I miss my chubby, chubby boy," he sighed, running a hand over Jian's hair. "You used to cling to my leg so sweetly."

Jian chuckled, pressing his face against his grandfather's shoulder. "I'm still your sweet boy."

The old man let out a deep chuckle. "Oh, but that boy has grown into skin and bones." He shook his head as he got up, folding his duvet neatly.

Jian watched him, his chest tightening.

His grandfather wasn't young anymore. His movements were slower, his hands trembled slightly as he tucked the blanket in place.

He was getting old.

A cold sense of urgency crawled up Jian's spine.

He needed to get stronger. He needed to take his grandfather away from here, away from the Wang family's control.

No more playing along.

No more pretending.

But for now... just for tonight, he allowed himself this moment of peace.

"You should rest, Grandpa." Jian reached out, smoothing out the wrinkles in his grandfather's sleeve. "I'll take care of everything."

The old man smiled at him, eyes filled with warmth and trust.

"I know you will, my boy."