Quick Transmigration: God of Slaughter? But He Calls Me Baby! - Chapter 40

“Why are you reacting so strongly?” Qian Zhou tilted his head, looking toward Jiang En.

The nameplate on the table read “Pei.” Qian Zhou looked at his face and asked, “Young Master Pei?”

Pei Fangyu leaned back, staring at Qian Zhou. His tone was a little unnatural, his eyes blinking rapidly.

“Y-you… don’t suddenly lean in so close…”

What? Close?

Jiang En spread his arms to measure the distance. “How is that close?”

Pei Fangyu cleared his throat and suddenly asked, “Um… do you have a younger sister? Or an older one works too.”

Qian Zhou’s expression was pure confusion. “No. Why are you asking that?”

After seeing Qian Zhou’s face properly, Pei Fangyu acted like ants were crawling all over him, fidgeting restlessly—wiping his cup, wiping his hands, fiddling with his hair.

Jiang En scooted his stool away in disgust. “You have dandruff.”

“That’s not dandruff! That’s my chicken’s feather sheath!” He hurried to defend himself, picking up the little white flakes that had fallen onto his leg.

He almost shoved them into Jiang En’s face.

“See? Crush it and it crumbles—how could that be dandruff?! Smell it if you don’t believe me, there’s no greasy odor at all!”

“Who wants to smell that thing?! Get it away!” Jiang En was already losing it, almost falling off his stool as he struggled.

Pei Fangyu’s face flushed red, babbling at Qian Zhou to explain, “Really, it’s not dandruff! I wash my hair every day!”

He reached his hand out. Jiang En recoiled in horror and pushed it back.

Pei Fangyu widened his eyes and reached again. Jiang En, on the verge of collapse, shoved him back harder.

Qian Zhou shielded Jiang En, pressing a single finger against Pei Fangyu’s arm.

The instant they touched, Pei Fangyu’s face flushed scarlet. “You… you believe me now?”

Qian Zhou rubbed his brow. “I believe you.”

If he didn’t, Jiang En might actually puke.

Pei Fangyu shyly held onto Qian Zhou’s finger. “My chicken is really cute—it can do backflips while singing ‘Get Rich.’ I’ll bring it here to show you.”

“That’s really not necessary…” Qian Zhou forcefully pulled his finger back, bit by bit.

But Pei Fangyu acted like he hadn’t heard, making a phone call:
“Hey, Grandpa? Can you tell the staff to bring my chicken over? You can come later, I’ll sit at your spot. Huh? The Huo family’s daughter? No, not interested. I don’t like plastic faces. Her nose could prop up a soda can.”

Jiang En pointed at his temple and whispered, “Qian Zhou… does he have something wrong up here?”

“I think so too.”

Qian Zhou glanced at the nameplate on the empty seat to his left. Just a single word: “Gu.”

Clearly, Gu Sheng hadn’t replied to his messages. No one told him Gu Sheng would come, yet he had a gut feeling.

Qian Zhou scooted left, letting Jiang En sit in his original seat.

If this “Gu” turned out to be someone else, they could always switch back later.

Someone sat down across from Qian Zhou, the chair creaking under the weight. Miles set a black case by his feet.

Then he immediately fixed his eyes on Qian Zhou, wobbling to his feet with a wine glass, circling over from the long table.

“Why haven’t I seen you at business events before? Who brought you here?”

Miles looked him up and down, clearly pleased, and nodded. “You—”

Pei Fangyu hung up and shoved Miles back with one arm, blocking Qian Zhou. “Who the hell are you?!”

Miles glared. “How dare you talk to me like that?!”

“Yeah, I’m talking to you! Fat like a pig—can’t you lose some weight? How many rolls are on that belly, three?”

Miles jabbed a finger at his nose. “You! You—!”

He turned to look for backup—only to remember all his bodyguards had been stopped outside. Only guests with admission cards could enter the banquet.

“Pei Fangyu, what nonsense are you causing now.” An elderly voice drifted closer.

Grandfather Pei strolled in at an unhurried pace, dressed in a neat Zhongshan suit, drawing gasps from the crowd.

People chatting nearby stepped respectfully aside, and the old man made his way to his grandson.

“Young people get hotheaded. Fangyu, apologize.”

From his seat, Qian Zhou saw it clearly: Pei Fangyu hid his hand below the table, secretly flipping Miles the universal insulting gesture.

With a look that screamed What can you do about it?, he said, “Sorry.”

Miles nearly fumed smoke from his ears, but with Grandfather Pei present, he had to swallow it down.

Jiang En clasped his hands in excitement, rocking them up and down. He obediently greeted, “Grandpa Pei.”

The elder smiled kindly and nodded, sitting in the seat Pei Fangyu vacated.

Then—his expression darkened as he yanked his grandson’s ear. “You little idiot! Didn’t I tell you to behave? What woman would ever want to marry a blockhead like you?!”

Pei Fangyu stole a glance at Qian Zhou, cheeks flushing. “But you can’t let those plastic faces harass your grandson either…”

“Nonsense! That was your blockhead dad’s doing! And you, you still don’t have a girlfriend. Who would ever want to date you? If you don’t find someone soon, I’ll arrange one myself!”

Qian Zhou and Jiang En’s ears perked up in shock. Truly a grandfather, a father, and a grandson of the same bloodline.

Grandfather Pei raised his hand, and a green-winged macaw swooped down from above, landing on his shoulder.

It weighed a solid three jin, its tail feathers nearly as long as an adult’s arm.

“Chicken!” Pei Fangyu’s eyes lit up.

He stretched his hand out, letting Chicken perch, then trotted over to Qian Zhou, squatting down as if showing off treasure.

“What a big parrot…” Jiang En reached out to pet its head.

Qian Zhou also found it amusing, but before he moved, Pei Fangyu, like a big golden retriever, pushed it closer.

“Go on, pet it.”

Grandfather Pei turned his head, carefully observing Qian Zhou, but he had no memory of him.

When he saw the “Gu” on the nameplate, however, a clear wariness crossed his face—he’d guessed the boy’s background.

He saw Qian Zhou also teasing the parrot, while his own grandson knelt nearby, gazing at him like an idiot.

Pei Fangyu’s eyes were soft with devotion, overflowing with fondness as he asked gently, “Isn’t it… really cute?”

Then his face was blocked by Chicken’s large wing, as the bird rubbed its soft feathers against Qian Zhou’s hand.

Qian Zhou couldn’t help but praise, “Cute. Its feathers are so soft.”

Chicken hopped onto Qian Zhou’s lap. Pei Fangyu squawked, reaching to grab it.

“You lustful bird, get down!”

The bird nipped at Pei Fangyu’s hand but nuzzled Qian Zhou’s.

The double standard was outrageous.

Their little commotion drew plenty of stares. There were still two minutes before the banquet began.

Pei Fangyu scooped up Chicken and stood. “I’ve got to go. Let’s play again tomorrow.”

He brushed past Biebert on the way out.

As the banquet’s host, Biebert only now strolled in, paint still smudged on his fingers.

He seemed utterly indifferent to others’ opinions, ignoring greetings along the way, heading straight for the main seat.

His presence was overwhelming—Qian Zhou couldn’t ignore his approach.

Biebert swept an impatient glance at Miles. The man, who had wanted to approach him, had no choice but to sit back down, sulking.

Qian Zhou keenly sensed Biebert’s irritation—it felt eerily similar to Gu Sheng’s episodes.

The banquet had already started. Why wasn’t Gu Sheng here yet?

Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe Gu Sheng never came at all.

Qian Zhou stared blankly at his plate—until suddenly, a black gift box appeared before him.

Biebert rested his chin on his hand, motioning for Qian Zhou to open it.

“Darling, a meeting gift for you.”

“Your neck is very beautiful.”