Chapter 57: A strong scent of green tea

Chapter 57: The Overpowering Scent of Green Tea

A heavy silence fell as Fu Cheng's words died away.

He assumed his words had cowed everyone, but his youngest son's voice soon shattered the quiet.

"Dad, we already share the same surname, don't we?"

Wagging a finger between himself and his father, Fu Siyuan pressed his lips together, barely suppressing a laugh—his smirk practically begging for a punch.

The flicker of anger that had just begun to subside in Fu Cheng's heart instantly flared up, hotter and brighter than before.

He thrust a hand behind him, grinding his back teeth, and glared at his youngest son with a menacing expression. "Good. At least you still remember you're a Fu."

Finding his hand still empty, Fu Cheng roared at the people behind him, "My belt! Give it to me!"

Dr. Wang glanced back, only to realize the bodyguards who had been following Fu Cheng earlier were nowhere to be seen.

Then, noticing Fu Cheng staring directly at him, he widened his eyes and pointed at himself. "Sir, me?"

Fu Cheng gritted his teeth. "Who else? Me?"

Undoing his belt in front of so many people was something Dr. Wang had never done—it was utterly mortifying.

His fair face flushed scarlet as he hesitated, unsure whether to remove it or not.

Finally, spotting a willow tree in the courtyard, a brilliant idea struck him. He dashed toward it.

"Sir, use this. My dad used willow branches to whip me when I was a kid—it stings far worse than a belt."

After stripping the willow branches of their leaves, Dr. Wang twisted two together and placed them in Fu Cheng's palm.

Fu Cheng had used baseball bats and belts before, but never willow branches.

He tested them on his palm, confirming they delivered a sharp, burning sting, then nodded in satisfaction before turning to his youngest son.

"Siyuan, don't make me do it myself. Drop your pants. Be a good boy."

Fu Cheng's tone was calm, and those still standing by the wall outside hadn’t heard him.

As a child, Fu Siyuan had indeed been frequently disciplined by his father, but in front of so many people...

Holding his sister with one hand and covering his rear with the other, Fu Siyuan protested, "Dad, isn't this a bit much? So many people are watching. What about my dignity?"

Mentioning dignity only stoked Fu Cheng’s fury further.

"Dignity? You dare talk to me about dignity? All these people just watched you, Fu Siyuan, making a spectacle of yourself trying to climb over the wall!"

"Did you think about your old man's dignity when you were climbing that wall?"

With that, Fu Cheng stopped caring whether his son had taken his pants off or not—the willow switch came down hard across his legs.

One second, Fu Siyuan had been joking and negotiating with his father; the next, he was yelping and leaping into the air.

"Ow! Dad, you're really hitting me?! Can't we do this at home? Everyone's watching!"

Even now, Fu Siyuan had the gall to negotiate with his old man—clearly, the beating wasn’t harsh enough.

Little dumpling was too young to fully grasp what her father and brother were saying, but the moment she saw her dad hitting her Third Brother, her cheerful grin vanished.

"Dada! No hit Third Bro!"

Hugging her squirming brother tight, she tried to wiggle out of his arms, but he was too tall—she couldn’t get down.

Her lip wobbled, and she was on the verge of tears.

Fortunately, Fu Cheng was simply teaching his son a lesson, not losing his mind.

Hearing his youngest daughter’s voice, he immediately stopped and turned, arms outstretched toward his son.

Fu Siyuan was still hopping in pain.

Seeing his father’s open arms, his eyes narrowed, and he tightened his grip on his sister.

"Dad... are you trying the gentle approach now?"

In his childhood, Fu Siyuan had been scolded and beaten countless times by Fu Cheng for being unruly and disrespectful.

The old saying "strict discipline breeds filial piety" might be outdated, but for a little hellion like Fu Siyuan, it worked wonders.

Without Fu Cheng’s strict discipline over the years, the Fu family might have ended up with a good-for-nothing.

Now, seeing his father actually extending his arms, Fu Siyuan’s first thought was that his dad had lost his mind—or worse, was luring him in for an even harsher beating.

The sting on his legs suddenly felt even more searing at the thought.

"Gentle my— Give me Zhizhi! You're jumping around—you'll drop her!"

Hearing her dad wanted to hold her, little dumpling immediately released her grip on her Third Brother’s neck, tilted her head, and leaned forward, arms outstretched.

"Dada, up! Third Bro, Zhizhi wants Dada!"

Fu Siyuan’s legs still throbbed, and now his sister was rejecting him—it cut deep.

His bright, puppy-like eyes dimmed as he roughly mussed her hair with his grimy hand.

"You little traitor. Got Daddy and forgot about your Third Bro? After I climbed the wall just to come home for you."

The teen scoffed, his brows furrowed in indignation.

Just yesterday, she’d been glued to him, whispering that he was her favorite. Now, with their father here, she was ditching him.

His jealousy boiled over, and he all but dumped his sister into their father’s arms.

"Go on, go to Daddy. Don't come looking for Third Bro to play anymore!"

The sudden shift in her brother’s attitude left the little girl bewildered as she was deposited into her father’s embrace.

But the moment she saw her dad’s face up close, she immediately spun around and clung to his neck.

"Daddy liar! Daddy's a doggie! Daddy pinky-swore not to say bad things about brother!"

Sticking out her tiny pinky finger, her cheeks puffing angrily, her huge, tear-filled eyes accusing.

"Daddy mean! No hit Third Bro! If Daddy hits Third Bro, Zhizhi won't be Daddy's friend!"

Once she’d spoken her mind, she loosened her grip on her father’s neck and carefully began wriggling free.

"Third brother has an owie, Zhizhi wants to blow on the boo-boo for third brother."

Muttering softly to herself, the little dumpling braced her hands on her father's legs, her short little legs cautiously shifting backward, afraid she might lose her balance and fall.

Fu Siyuan was close enough to hear his sister's murmurs.

His jealousy flared up but then subsided.

Ignoring the pain in his calf, Fu Siyuan bent down and swept his sister up into his arms.

"My sweet Zhizhi, what were you mumbling just now? Third brother didn’t hear clearly. Say it again, okay?"

As he spoke, a clear smile danced in his eyes.

And, as if to provoke, he deliberately let his amused gaze linger on his father.

Fu Cheng was furious.

How long had he been unconscious? This brat Fu Siyuan had clearly leveled up in his ability to infuriate him.

This thickly layered "green tea" behavior made him grit his teeth in frustration.

Withdrawing the hand that had been protectively hovering behind his daughter, Fu Cheng gritted his teeth and said, "Are you deaf? You were standing so close and still couldn’t hear?"

Fu Siyuan raised an eyebrow, pushing his luck further. "Yeah, Dad. After that hit from you, it hurt so much my ears are still ringing."

"My sweet Zhizhi, do you think third brother might go deaf? Then I won’t be able to hear your sweet words or your cute little voice anymore."

Pouting exaggeratedly, Fu Siyuan’s mock acting was so obvious that even Fu Yuchen, who had been watching the show, couldn’t take it anymore.