Chapter 11: The Miserable Young Master
2060 Words
That evening, Ryan had to return to campus.
Before leaving, he shook his head in disbelief, sighing as though Ethan were a hopeless fool. “Have you completely lost your mind? What kind of sucker are you, huh? What kind of spell did that idiotic parrot cast on you?”
Ethan said nothing for a while before replying quietly, “He’s… going through a hard time.”
Ryan misunderstood, assuming Lucien came from a poor family. After all, the vampire only owned two sets of clothes, both of which he wore in rotation, and his sneakers looked like they hadn’t been changed in ages. Indeed, he seemed rather down on his luck.
But something didn’t add up—children from poor families were supposed to be more sensible, not spoiled beyond reason.
Worried his friend had been duped, Ryan pressed him for more details. Ethan, adept at evasion, spun the story into something else entirely—Lucien became a fallen aristocrat, a tragic young master whose once-glorious family had lost everything, forcing him to drop out of school. Unable to bear the cruel contrast between past and present, his mind had become unstable—sometimes lucid, sometimes not. When he was lucid, he’d stay at home; when not, he’d escape reality by coming here, hiding behind games.
Ryan was convinced. His tone softened with sympathy. “So his parents just… abandoned him?”
Ethan countered mildly, “You think they’re still around to care?”
Ryan nodded quickly. “You’re right. If they were, he wouldn’t be like this. Honestly, you’re more like his dad now—buying him computers, phones… though you could’ve at least gotten him a few more sets of clothes.”
Ethan: “…”
Ryan sighed. “No wonder he sucked your finger like that. Poor guy probably snapped under pressure. You should’ve told me earlier! If I’d known he was that pitiful, I wouldn’t have yelled at him.”
Ethan seized the opportunity. “Exactly. He’s fragile—stop calling him names. He never used to swear before. You could try teaching him something decent.”
Ryan threw up his hands. “Alright, alright. From now on, I’m his uncle. I’ll keep him in line.”
If only he actually could keep him in line, Ethan might have had some peace. After Ryan left, Ethan stayed downstairs—his own bedroom had long been occupied by the vampire. He only went in once to grab a change of clothes.
And what was Lucien doing then?
Barefoot, cross-legged on the chair, immersed in a video game—keyboard clacking, mouse clicking, mouth running nonstop, spewing colorful profanity like a broken faucet.
By the time Ethan finished his shower, it was past nine-thirty. He went to Ryan’s old room and lay down, but no sleep came.
His thoughts wandered. Lucien was such an i***t—falling into every trap, helping the con man count his own money. What kind of charm could a fool like that possibly use to bewitch him?
Yet tonight, he truly had acted as if under a spell.
The night made him brutally self-aware. Ethan knew exactly what he was thinking—thoughts that were wrong and impossible.
Humans and monsters, the tales always said, belonged to separate worlds. He forced himself to dismiss the notion, labeling it what it was: lust.
Lucien was beautiful. Any ordinary man might falter. He was only human, after all—a man swayed by desire, nothing more.
He’d once been curious—about Lucien, about everything related to him. At first, he thought the vampire was tied to the three murder cases. But Lucien’s earnest, almost childlike insistence on his people’s innocence made it clear—he wasn’t lying.
Perhaps there were other races out there. Humanity, proud of being a “Level-One Civilization,” might be little more than fragile mayflies, unable to alter fate’s grand design.
So Ethan decided not to care anymore. Let Lucien do as he pleased—sooner or later, he’d grow bored and leave. Life would return to normal.
He closed his eyes, ready to drift off—when footsteps sounded. Thump, thump, thump, down the stairs, closer and closer—then bang! The door flew open.
“Hey, Ethan, I’m sleepy.”
Ethan gritted his teeth. “Then go sleep. No need to report it.”
Vampires were powerful for a reason—night vision, transformation, heightened senses. The stronger the bloodline, the greater the power.
Purebloods could charm and control humans with ease, but alas, the weak little oddball before him was an exception.
Lucien had long wanted to enchant Ethan, but lacking the strength, he had to resort to something else—to negotiation.
He crawled into bed, reaching for Ethan’s bare neck. “Let me drink a little—just a few sips—and I’ll wash your dishes tomorrow.”
The cool touch on his skin sent an involuntary shiver down Ethan’s spine. His fists clenched. He couldn’t allow this foolish vampire to run wild. He swatted the hand away.
“Not tonight,” he said coldly. “I’m tired. Go downstairs.”
In the darkness where humans saw nothing, Lucien saw everything—the same expression his elder brother used to wear: cold and impatient.
Leo always said he was a burden.
Now this detestable Ethan thought so too?
How dare he! Washing dishes was more troublesome than biting him! He’d lowered himself to a peasant’s bargain—and got rejected?
“You have no right to say no! I’m drinking your blood now!”
With a snarl, Lucien bared his fangs and lunged, straddling Ethan without realizing exactly where he sat.
The contact made Ethan’s body tense—his restraint stretched thin as paper. It was maddening.
One fought to feed, the other to resist—they wrestled, tangled, rolled.
Until Ethan lost control and punched Lucien squarely in the face. The blow landed hard on his left cheek. Lucien froze. Ethan froze too.
A flush bloomed on that pale skin—color, warmth, life. For the first time, Lucien looked almost… human.
“You dare hit me?” Lucien hissed through his teeth.
Ethan moved away, switched on the light, blinked against the brightness, and looked at him again—momentarily stunned by what he saw.
Lucien’s once bloodless face now glowed faintly pink. It was oddly beautiful.
“You’re dead! Ah—!” Lucien hissed again, clutching his cheek. He wet his palm with his tongue and pressed it to his face, muttering furiously, “Just you wait! Once this stops hurting, I’ll kill you!”
Such a brainless fool.
Ethan turned away, exhausted.
“No! I’ve changed my mind!” Lucien barked. “I won’t kill you—I’ll torture you! I’ll tie you up and make you my blood slave! I’ll bathe in your blood until you beg—”
“Shut up,” Ethan interrupted. “Two sips. I’ll get the knife.”
“Oh—wait!” Lucien objected quickly, clutching his sore cheek, eyes glinting slyly. “You hit me. You must atone. Two sips aren’t enough. I want your neck.”
Ethan’s tone was flat. “I decide where. No bargaining. Pick one.”
Lucien insisted, “But my face hurts! You have to make it up to me!”
Ethan knew he was right to restrain himself earlier, yet somehow Lucien’s persistence rekindled those unwise, forbidden thoughts he’d tried to bury.
The vampire pouted, then compromised. “Fine. Forget your neck. Buy me golden skins instead—you choose!”
In the end, Ethan paid in cash. Peace was restored.
But when Lucien finally drifted off, still clutching Ethan’s finger in his mouth like a child with a pacifier, Ethan’s heart was in turmoil.
He didn’t sleep that night.
The next day, with a splitting headache, he went to the gym to burn off the tension. When he returned, there was the troublesome vampire again, arms crossed, accusing him the moment he stepped inside.
“I’ve been waiting forever! Where were you? You promised to buy me skins!”
Ethan rubbed his temple. “What did I buy you a phone for?”
“I wanted to call you, but it’s missing!” Lucien pouted. “If you call it, it’ll ring and I’ll find it. Hurry up!”
Ethan: “…”
“Come on! I want my gold skins!”
Ryan’s joke from last night echoed in Ethan’s mind—he really was like a father now.
Though not much effort was required, his “child” wasn’t ordinary—he needed blood to stay calm. If deprived, he’d throw tantrums. Ethan’s fingers were practically pacifiers by now.
He found the missing phone under the bed and nearly laughed—or screamed. Would it kill the noble blood prince to bend down and look?
Lucien pulled up Ryan’s game profile and pointed at the glittering gold-framed skins. “See? I want all of these.”
“Got it.” Ethan sighed. “Move. Let me check how to buy them.”
Lucien obediently stepped aside, though he leaned over the desk, watching closely. “That one’s rare,” he added. “Ryan said you have to win a lottery to get it.”
Ethan browsed the in-game store, only to realize most of Ryan’s skins weren’t even available. He searched online—apparently, they were all limited editions, long discontinued. The only way to get them now was to buy an entire account, and those cost a fortune.
“Can’t buy them?” Lucien asked anxiously.
Ethan nodded. “They’re exclusive. Gone for good.”
Lucien froze, then flared up instantly. “But you promised! You said you’d always keep your word! You have to buy them for me!”
“Funny,” Ethan said mildly. “Didn’t you promise to stop swearing? How’s that going?”
Lucien’s mouth snapped shut.
Ethan leaned back. “Tell you what. I’ll buy you something—but first, tell me where you’ve been these past five days.”
After the hike, Lucien had collapsed from exhaustion and slept three days straight in the South District villa. When he awoke, his brother Leo and Liam were gone. The next two days he’d spent searching for a new blood donor—but no one’s blood compared to Ethan’s.
He raised his chin proudly. “I was looking for Blood Donor No. 2. You know why I haven’t killed you yet? Because you’re still useful. Once I find No. 2—hmph! You’ll see!”
Ethan deadpanned, “Terrified.”
Lucien beamed. “Good. Then hurry and buy me those skins. I’ll spare your life.”
Ethan turned, catching sight of the vampire’s small fangs and foolish grin. He couldn’t even stay angry.
Two days later, Ryan received an unexpected call—from the tragic young master himself.
Lucien’s tone was triumphant. “I have more skins than you now! Limited editions! Ethan bought them for me—over ten thousand yuan! Want to play?”
Ryan nearly choked. His friend might not be Lucien’s real father, but he was sure acting like one.
He laughed helplessly. “You’re lucky, kid. He’s stingy with me. Maybe I’ll ask him for a gaming laptop too.”
Lucien snapped, “No! He can only buy things for me!”
Ryan teased, “Oh yeah? Then call me ‘uncle,’ and maybe I’ll let him.”
The line went dead.
Back at the house, Lucien tossed the phone aside, stormed into the yard, and grabbed Ethan’s arm while he was hanging laundry. “You’re not allowed to buy Ryan a laptop! You can only spend money on me!”
Ethan: “…”
Lucien added fiercely, “Did you hear me? He hasn’t even apologized to me yet!”
“Fine,” Ethan said at last, handing him a shirt. “Help me hang the laundry, and I won’t.”
Lucien grumbled as he complied. “Why do you have so many clothes? Equal exchange—tonight I get to bite your neck.”
Ethan looked at the fresh clothes in his hands—new ones he’d secretly bought for Lucien on Sunday—and sighed.
Maybe he really was the fool here.
- Writer
