The Fake Son Wants to Live [BL]-Chapter 166 - The wang family

"Dican," Bian said suddenly, his voice switching back to that familiar soft, syrupy tone he always used when he wanted something.

Dican glanced over from the controls, smile warm and obedient. "Yes, my love?"

"Make sure the ship lands outside the Wang family mansion. I want to make a grand entrance."

There was a pause as Dican processed the request, then a small chuckle left his lips, eyes filled with affection. "Anything for you."

Bian didn’t smile back. His attention was already shifting. He couldn’t sit still, couldn’t stay calm. His body was filled with a rush of anticipation that tingled in his chest and made his limbs twitch restlessly. He stood up, leaning closer to the screen at the front of the cockpit as the craft began to slow down, stars giving way to Earth’s familiar blue and green hues.

The mansion came into view like a rising mountain — large, lavish, surrounded by carved stone walls and heavily tended gardens. The old Wang family estate.

He knew every inch of that place. Every hallway, every creaking floorboard. That was the mansion where he’d grown up. The place that had tossed him out like trash. The gate he had once walked through barefoot, covered in blood, only to be locked out. That was the place where they’d sneered at him, mocked him, humiliated him.

He grinned, teeth showing.

"I’ll show them all," he whispered to himself, eyes gleaming. "I’ll show them what offending me costs."

Behind him, Dican adjusted a lever and tapped the screen. The craft let out a deep, metallic wail — a loud, long siren-like sound that echoed through the skies like a storm warning. Then came the pressure. Wind exploded from underneath the descending ship, powerful gusts shooting out in every direction. Trees bent violently. Flowerbeds were ripped from the earth. Leaves and dust swirled into the air like a miniature hurricane.

Below, Bian could see the panic begin.

The guards stationed by the gate — stiff, dull men in uniform — scrambled as the huge shadow of the ship fell over them. Their hats flew off. One of them fell back onto the grass, scrambling on his elbows to get away as the entire garden trembled beneath the thrusters. The other one tried to speak into his walkie, but the wind distorted the signal. The gate clanged wildly against the stone as the air pressure forced it open.

And then came the people.

Dozens of them — family members, old staff, new housekeepers, cousins, distant relatives, all pouring out of the mansion like ants from a kicked nest. The way they moved — unprepared, disorganized, terrified — sent a wave of joy through Bian’s chest.

They were running in all directions, pointing at the ship, yelling, pushing each other to look, to hide, to escape.

Like headless chickens.

Bian watched with utter glee as the chaos below continued to unfold. Every servant, every distant relative, every nosy cousin came spilling out of the Wang mansion like cockroaches in the light. The once majestic garden was now a mess of flying leaves and overturned pots, and at the center of it all was their ship — hulking, loud, and nothing short of terrifying.

He leaned forward, soaking it all in. His fingers tapped eagerly on the glass as he looked at the scrambling bodies below.

"Dican..." he said, voice syrupy sweet with a touch of casual curiosity. "Do you have anything with you? Something like a gun?"

Dican, who had just finished pressing a few controls to steady the craft, shook his head. "All of my gear broke down in the crash... But I have my sword."

That was enough. More than enough.

As the ramp of the ship lowered with a mechanical hiss, Bian reached for Dican’s hand. Their fingers intertwined naturally, and he held on tightly. There was a smugness in the way he walked — like every step was a performance. He strode down the ramp with Dican beside him, the Farian prince a picture of alien beauty and strength, his sword slung across his back.

The moment Bian’s feet touched the ground, the air shifted.

Everyone turned. Dozens of faces stared. Frozen. Speechless.

And right at the center of it all stood the man himself — Wang Bushen. His once cold and stern face was now carved in open shock.

Bian smiled.

"Surprised to see me?" he called out, his voice echoing across the courtyard. He didn’t wait for an answer. "Oh, come on. Show me something. A tear. A scream. Maybe some begging?"

He laughed, eyes wild with delight.

"You chased me away like a dog," he said as he slowly descended the last few steps of the ramp, dragging Dican along, hand-in-hand like a prized date to a wedding. "You closed the gates in my face and turned away when I bled. But look at me now..."

He extended his arms dramatically, voice rising.

"Back with more power than any of you could’ve imagined!"

He stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and his father.

Wang Bushen didn’t speak. His jaw was clenched, hands trembling slightly at his sides. But he didn’t step back. Not yet.

Bian stood inches from him now.

"Do you regret it?" he asked softly, tilting his head with mock concern. "Or should I even call you that anymore? No... You have no right to be called my father."

His expression twisted, eyes narrowing into slits.

"You chose Jian. The losing side. So sadly," he sighed, smile returning, "you’re all my enemies now."

He giggled — sharp, high, and unhinged.

Then he gestured smoothly behind him. "Dican, darling. Come."

Without hesitation, Dican stepped forward, drawing his blade in one graceful motion. The silver gleamed in the light, and in one swift move, he pressed the cold flat edge of the sword against Wang Bushen’s throat.

Gasps rang out around the courtyard.

Guards reached for weapons but paused when they saw the sword’s alien design — and the unreadable power in Dican’s glowing eyes.

Bian turned his attention back to Wang Bushen, eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and danger.

"Now," he whispered, leaning in close enough that only the two of them could hear, "tell me... Where are you hiding my dear, darling brother of mine?"