Chapter 12 Daddy, why does your mouth taste like Shang Youqing? !

The man's arms were strong and powerful, clamping that slender waist, clamping the warmth of the hug that was exactly the same as in his memory.

He lowered his head and pressed hard against her neck, his dry and warm lips biting a small piece of soft skin as if to vent his anger, and murmured with a hot breath mixed with a faint smell of alcohol. However, before he could even bite out the two words of extremely strong resentment, he was pushed away unexpectedly.

He Cong seemed unable to understand how she dared to push him away. He staggered half a step, his eyes flushed, and he raised his head with a heavy breath. However, after seeing the face in front of him clearly, he felt as if he had fallen into an icy cave.

He regained consciousness in an instant, and the contours of his face instantly became as cold as ice.

"It's you."

He Cong calmed his breath, his thin lips forming cold straight lines. He stared at Shang Youqing, who looked at him in disbelief, covering her bitten neck, but he only felt a clear mockery: "Miss Shang, what else do you want?"

Shang Youqing was still in shock and tried to calm her thoughts: "What do you mean, Mr. He?"

"You even knew about my private trip to Tan Palace to discuss cooperation, and deliberately showed up here to create a chance encounter." He looked the woman in front of him up and down, approaching aggressively, "Miss Shang, you don't think you are so clever, do you?" "

Indeed, He Zhimo was born without a mother, so he lacks maternal love. It just so happens that your back looks very similar to my late wife, so it's natural for him to project his longing for his mother onto you. A child can't tell the difference, can't Miss Shang tell the difference?"

He Cong's breath was scorching, but his eyes were cold. He warned from his thin lips, almost word by word: "I advise Miss Shang to put this little thought into it. Even if you look like me, I will never find a stepmother for He Zhimo."

Shang Youqing had already calmed down by now. She stood there, indifferent. She watched calmly as He Cong, like a mad dog, bit people and then began to lash out at her with a barrage of coldness. She kept her brows and eyes calm the entire time, patiently waiting for him to finish. Finally,

she spoke in a clear voice, "Are you done?" Shang Youqing pointed with her fair fingertips at his body, which was still like a high wall blocking them. "Make way."

He Cong's eyes unconsciously followed the movement of her slender fingers. Then, realizing something, he turned aside with a stern face. Then, out of the

corner of his eye, he caught a cold glimpse of a young man standing behind him, stunned. Having recently reviewed an investment proposal for a TV show, He Cong recognized the sunny and handsome man behind him as one of the show's star guests.

He Cong's brows knitted together. Before he could comprehend why this male celebrity was there, Shang Youqing brushed past him, approached him, and said, "Where's your car?"

The male celebrity stammered, pointing to the right. "Here, here..."

The car door opened, and Shang Youqing was about to lean in when something suddenly occurred to him. He placed his slender hand on the door, glanced sideways at He Cong, who was still standing still a few steps away, and said calmly, "I didn't realize Mr. He had such a rich imagination. However, I do have something to remind you, Mr. He."

Shang Youqing's fingertips grasped the back collar of the shirt that had been messed up by the man, and he smoothed it out bit by bit, lightly returning He Cong's words.

"Mr. He, please put your thoughts aside. Now that you know I'm not him, don't project your thoughts about your lover onto me anymore. A child can't tell the difference, so can't Mr. He, an adult, tell the difference?"

He Cong: "..."

Soon, the dark blue car drove away.

A few minutes later, inside the Bentley.

On the way back to Yanyuan, Yu Zhu didn't dare to breathe, the air pressure in the car was almost freezing.

He Cong sat very calmly in the back seat, his eyes thick and dark, watching the night scene passing by quickly outside the window, as if thinking about something.

After a long time, he suddenly withdrew his gaze, gently turned the ebony Buddhist beads on his slender wrist, and said calmly: "Go and check what the relationship is between Shang Youqing and that pretty boy celebrity just now."

Yu Zhu resisted the urge to ask "What's the point of checking this?" and replied with a stiff upper lip, "Okay, Mr. He."

When they arrived at Yanyuan, it was more than fifteen minutes since the curfew time set by He Zhimo as his father. He Cong thought that He Zhimo should have been taken back to his room to sleep by the servants by now. However, as soon as he got off the car, Butler Chen came up to him and whispered a reminder. He Cong paused after listening and said, "I see. You go back and rest first."

He Cong returned to the main house in the lakeside area. As soon as he stepped into the entrance and approached the hall, he saw the scene described by Butler Chen -

in the huge living room with floor-to-ceiling windows, He Zhimo was wearing fluffy penguin pajamas. He didn't know who he learned it from, but he was imitating the owner, holding his two little hands, sitting on the sofa with a little face, and his two short legs hanging over the edge of the sofa.

Hearing the approaching footsteps of He Cong, the young master He didn't even raise his head, and spoke coldly with a baby voice like a little boss: "You're back."

He Cong: "...Why don't you go to bed?"

"You still have the nerve to ask me, Dad, do you know what time it is now?"

He Zhimo was about to imitate his father's usual majestic look towards his subordinates, but as soon as he finished speaking, his nose twitched slightly, as if he had smelled something keenly.

He suddenly couldn't sit still anymore, and stood up from the sofa, hugged He Cong's arm who was standing in front of the sofa, and sniffed hard at his suit, "Dad, are you still drinking?" "

A little."

He Zhimo snorted angrily, and was about to interrogate some other details, but suddenly his big eyes were stunned, and he tilted his head back and sniffed hard at He Cong's chin, and shouted in shock: "Dad, why is there the smell of Shang Youqing in your mouth?!"