The Fake Son Wants to Live [BL]-Chapter 137 - Privacy

Jian continued to dig another spot for his morning duties when he noticed the man still lingering behind him.

He glared back at him.

The Farian stood silently, silver eyes still watching.

Jian narrowed his eyes at him. "You’re seriously messed up, you know that?" he muttered under his breath, shooting a glare out the window. "Pooping is a private thing. Not something you just—stand around and gawk at."

His voice was laced with irritation, but also undeniable discomfort.

Xing Yu didn’t respond. Not a word. He simply turned away and resumed his silent vigil beside the car, head tilted as if scanning the horizon. Still, his posture seemed heavier somehow. Stiffer.

He didn’t argue. He didn’t explain.

Instead, he stayed still—like a statue standing watch.

A small rustle came from the backseat.

The little boy sat up with a yawn, rubbing his eyes sleepily. His hair stuck up in all directions and his blanket had tangled around his legs.

"Mm... Where’s Mister Jian?" he mumbled, blinking around blearily.

Xing Yu turned his head slightly. "He is... pooping."

The boy froze.

Then frowned.

"You’re not supposed to say that out loud," the kid said in a small but serious voice, crossing his arms. "Mama said pooping is private. You don’t tell everyone, and you definitely don’t watch them. That’s rude."

Xing Yu looked at him. His expression didn’t change, but he blinked slowly.

He didn’t say anything.

The child tilted his head. "Did you... watch him?"

Xing Yu hesitated—then gave the slightest nod.

The little boy gasped like it was the biggest scandal in the world. "That’s so weird! You’re not supposed to watch!"

Still, Xing Yu said nothing. His eyes drifted, distant. Even though he’d been on Earth for a long while, he hadn’t spent time among humans. Dican had always been the one who mingled, who talked, who adapted.

Xing Yu had one task: find the prince. Protect him. Take him home.

Everything else—human customs, human rules, strange human ideas about privacy—it never mattered.

Until now.

His fingers flexed slightly at his side. His gaze, as always, drifted back to the direction Jian had gone.

It didn’t make sense. Why push someone away when they’re most vulnerable?

On Gia, no one defecated alone. It was a time of exposure. Risk. Even high-ranking officers didn’t isolate themselves. There were designated areas—open communal spaces—where comrades shared news, plans, and laughter during such moments.

It wasn’t strange.

It was safe.

His jaw tensed. But he didn’t speak. He couldn’t explain, not when the very idea made the human prince glare at him like he was disgusting.

He looked down at his hands.

The young prince doesn’t trust me...

The thought lingered.

Unspoken.

Heavy.

He said nothing more.

Jian finally returned to the car, shoulders stiff, movements sharp. His face was tinted pink, the flush of embarrassment still fresh on his skin. He slammed the door shut and slumped into the seat, letting out a heavy sigh.

He held a half empty bottle in hand as he wiped his wet hands on his pants.

The little boy, now fully awake, wiggled in his seat.

"Do you need to go too?" Jian asked, rubbing a hand through the boy’s messy hair.

The boy blinked at him, then nodded shyly.

Jian sighed and got out again, walking around to help the kid down from the car. He led him a short distance away, crouched beside him, and carefully helped the boy tug his pants down. He stood nearby, arms crossed, scanning the ruined surroundings, making sure no Graylings crept up.

Xing Yu watched this quietly, head tilted in confusion.

Why?

Why was this considered acceptable? A moment ago, Jian had snarled at him for watching. Called it shameless. But now, he was standing guard himself—doing exactly what he claimed was so perverse.

Unable to stop himself, Xing stepped closer.

"Pooping is... private?" he asked softly, like he was trying to solve an equation.

Jian turned his head slowly and fixed him with a look colder than the ruins around them. "What part of that was unclear?" he snapped.

Xing Yu paused. Then, eyes calm and direct, he asked again, "Then why are you watching him?"

Jian didn’t answer immediately.

He helped the boy finish up, adjusted his clothes back on, and gave him a reassuring pat. Then he turned, dusted off his hands, and faced Xing fully.

"You really don’t get it, do you?" he said flatly. "It’s not about the act, it’s about the intent. He’s a child. I’m making sure he’s safe."

Xing Yu’s lips parted, a flicker of something confused on his face.

Jian’s gaze sharpened. "You... You make it so damn obvious."

Xing blinked.

"Obvious that you’re not human," Jian added, voice low. "You really thought no one would notice how weird you are?"

The Farian stayed still. For once, his calm didn’t hold so tightly—there was a faint stiffening at his jaw.

"How long have you been on Earth?" Jian asked, voice gentler now. Still suspicious, but touched with something like reluctant curiosity.

There was a pause.

Xing Yu’s eyes dropped to the ground briefly, then back to Jian’s golden ones.

"Since I was of age," he said quietly.

Jian raised a brow. "Why?"

Silence again.

Then Xing looked directly into Jian’s eyes. The world seemed to still for a breath. The ruins, the wind, the faint cries of distant crows—all dimmed.

"Searching for you," he said.

And Jian’s breath caught.

Just slightly.

His lips parted, then closed. Words hovered there—but none came out. His fingers tightened a little at his side, and he stared hard at Xing Yu, as if trying to decide whether or not to believe him.

"Me?" he repeated, voice low.

Xing didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

He just stood there—steadfast, silent, unwavering.

And Jian didn’t know why, but his heartbeat started to pick up.

He looked away first.

"...You’re unbelievable," he muttered under his breath, turning back toward the car with the little boy in tow.