Pampered By My Fake Boyfriend's Brother-Chapter 502: The Phone Call

Meng Sihan’s eyes, bright as stars, shimmered with a cold luminescence beneath his sword-shaped eyebrows. His heart chilled at his mother’s words.

"Uncle Ma said he’s not available."

Xu Ming gazed at her tall and elegant son, her eyes gradually turning gloomy, "Heh, indeed, the two of us together probably can’t compare to a single brick or tile in that house."

Meng Sihan’s black eyes flickered slightly; he had heard these words more than ten times.

"Mom, it’s late. You should go to rest," Meng Sihan said, stepping forward towards his frail and thin mother.

"Go away..."

As Meng Sihan reached out to support her, Xu Ming reflexively swatted his hand away harshly.

His high-set brows carried a trace of coldness, yet upon seeing his mother’s timorous expression, a sliver of hope flitted through his heart.

"Mom..." Though his mother’s words were hurtful, he always consoled himself with what the doctor had said.

His mother had been ill for years, sometimes lucid, sometimes confused; the words she spoke and the actions she took were often not her true intentions. Regardless, he should be tolerant of her.

Realizing her earlier action had been too abrupt, Xu Ming slowly looked up, her hollow gaze finding her son’s silhouette, as if waking from a dream. She took a deep breath.

"Did I scold you again?" Xu Ming’s previously sharp demeanor softened, becoming particularly sensitive and suspicious, her pale face showing faint concern.

Accustomed to his mother’s unpredictable tone, Meng Sihan was unfazed, "It’s okay." He bowed forward, intending to support his mother once more.

He saw his mother staring at him.

"Sihan, over the years, his attitude towards you has grown colder, hasn’t it?" Xu Ming leaned back against the soft chair, her words coming out weakly.

When the stark truth was laid bare, Meng Sihan’s heart still ached quietly, "Dad’s been busy lately."

Xu Ming listened to her son’s words, observing him for a moment before speaking softly, "You don’t hate him?" Her tone was always gentle when mentioning Meng Heming.

As if Meng Heming was her entire world.

"No." Meng Heming lowered his head, his refined face upright and dignified.

He had resented and been angry at his parents, but never felt hatred.

"Good child, good child..." Xu Ming muttered a few times, as if chilled by the evening air, she shivered slightly and turned her head toward the door.

In a daze, she seemed to see the tall figure of a strong man.

"Heming!" Xu Ming called into the distance, her voice tender and lingering, revealing that for her, Meng Heming was her entire obsession.

Seeing this, Meng Sihan signaled to the servant standing by, who quickly assisted Xu Ming to her bedroom.

Watching his mother slowly walk away, Meng Sihan lowered his gaze to his hand suspended in mid-air, a sarcastic smile appearing on his lips. All these years, whenever he tried to get close to his mother, he was treated like trash and ruthlessly pushed away.

Yet he never learned his lesson; whenever facing his parents, he couldn’t help but try to get closer. It was despairing how he repeatedly hit a wall.

At this moment, the elegant indoor surroundings felt exceedingly lonely to him.

Since childhood, the Meng Family had given him everything of the best—clothing, food, housing, education... but they couldn’t spare even a little time for him. From a young age, he strove to excel at everything, hoping his parents would notice him.

As he grew up, this unrealistic expectation gradually buried itself in his heart.

There were things that didn’t belong to him, things he shouldn’t have demanded—like familial warmth.

He slowly made his way to the front yard, his polished black shoes stepping onto the lush green grass. With each step, his dark eyes roamed around the house. Over the years, whenever returning to this villa, he liked to circle it in the dead of night.

It not only held his joyless childhood but also his boundless longing for familial affection.

However, this time, after circling only halfway, he decisively turned and headed toward the garage.

Soon, the roar of an engine was heard, and a black car disappeared into the night.

In this dreary night, he couldn’t find anyone to confide in. At his most oppressed, an image of a beautiful, alluring face suddenly appeared in his mind.

Meng Sihan parked the car by the roadside, turned off the engine, took out his phone, and opened WeChat to make a voice call.

"Hello?"

A few seconds later, a soft, slightly whispery voice of a young girl came through.

"Are you asleep?" Meng Sihan asked, unable to help himself upon hearing her sweet, tender voice.

For people in their social circle, night was the golden time to relieve fatigue, and each had their own way of doing so; the object of leisure just differed.

Some indulged in smoking and drinking, others in women...

"Not yet," An Yin cautiously replied on the other end of the line.

"Do you have time? I want to talk to someone," Meng Sihan said, exhaling a breath of stale air as he gazed into the distant darkness. Every time he left home, his heart felt stifled.

"It’s very late now," An Yin murmured.

Meng Sihan glanced at his watch and smiled faintly. For him, it was still early, but the young girl was already going to sleep. Sleeping this early, does she still have to grow?

Meng Sihan didn’t voice his thoughts, instead adjusting his seat. He reclined in the driver’s seat, adopting a posture for a long conversation, "If that’s the case, let’s chat on the phone."

"Huh?" An Yin exclaimed in astonishment, doubtful about what she and the man had to discuss. "What should we talk about?"

She stammered, clearly bemused by their conversation.

"Let’s talk about you," Meng Sihan said, opening the car’s sunroof, a breeze ruffling his hair, concealing his eyes under the dark strands, leaving his thoughts inscrutable.

"Me?" An Yin raised her voice, hesitating at his sudden question, "There’s nothing much to say about me."

Her voice was listless, yet Meng Sihan, adept at reading minds, could discern her troubles.

"Really?" Meng Sihan’s gaze grew sharp, narrowing his eyes at the vast night sky. A star or two twinkled, resembling the young girl’s lively eyes.

Though they’d only met a few times, he felt a rare connection with the girl. Truly remarkable.

"False," the man’s earnest tone made An Yin lower her guard, "I do have a concern."