From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)
Chapter 138: Big Dog Clyde and the Elegant Teapot Master

Chapter 138: Big Dog Clyde and the Elegant Teapot Master

When Lin Heye returned with the tea and snacks, he placed the tray gently on the table. The delicate clink of ceramic cups on the wooden surface filled the quiet room. The scent of freshly brewed herbal tea drifted through the air.

Clyde leaned back slightly, his eyes flickering toward the door. "Is your father here?" he asked casually, though his tone carried weight.

Lin Heye straightened. "Yeah. He is in the Lotus room." his brow furrowed a little. "Why? Is that your old problem again?"

Clyde didn’t waste time explaining. He stood up smoothly and glanced at Micah, who was halfway through pouring himself a second cup of herbal tea.

"Let’s go. I want him to examine Micah," Clyde said.

Micah’s hand froze in mid-air. He pointed at himself. "Me? What for?"

Clyde raised an eyebrow. "What? Did you forget your stomach has been bothering you all day?"

Micah winced and placed the cup down gently. "Oh. That." He had been so focused on enjoying the privilege of being here that his uncomfortable stomach had long been dismissed.

Clyde motioned toward the door. "Get up. Heye’s father is a traditional Chinese medicine expert. Very well-known."

Micah perked up at once. His face lit up with relief. "Wait! So that means... we aren’t going to the hospital, right?"

"Yeah, if he says you are fine," Clyde said, nodding.

"Great!" Micah hopped to his feet, his hands already brushing off the front of his hoodie. "Lead the way!"

Lin Heye stood frozen, watching them. Clyde’s sharp gaze landed on him. He quickly stepped forward to guide them. The three of them moved through the quiet corridor of the restaurant, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpet.

At the end of the hallway, Lin Heye pushed open the door to the Lotus Room.

Inside, an elderly man sat at a small table, sipping tea with both hands, his posture straight and composed. The soft sound of the door creaking open made him look up.

The old man’s face broke into a warm smile. "Ah, Clyde! Is that you?"

Clyde stepped inside with a polite nod. "Uncle Lin. How do you do?"

Uncle Lin stood up with surprising energy for his age and approached with calm steps. "What a nice surprise! You look good." Then he paused, and his eyes drifted to Micah, standing a little behind Clyde. "And who might this young man be?" Uncle Lin asked.

Micah stepped forward quickly and gave a small bow. "Hello, Grandpa. I’m Micah Ramsy. Thank you for seeing me."

Uncle Lin was taken aback. "Seeing you?"

Clyde answered for him. "Yes. He has been hospitalised twice in the past two weeks. Stomach ulcer. And then today I caught him eating greasy food from a street vendor. If it is not trouble, could you take a look at him?"

Micah kept his face polite, lips curled in a tight smile, but inwardly he was rolling his eyes and cursing Clyde. Thanks a lot for the full health report, jerk.

Uncle Lin gave Micah a kind look and reached out to take his hand. "Sure. Come here. Sit down. Let me take your pulse."

Micah obeyed without hesitation, settling into the cushion beside the old man. He extended his arm, resting it lightly on his knee.

Uncle Lin placed his fingers carefully on Micah’s wrist, his expression turning serious. He didn’t speak for a while, only closed his eyes, his brow tightening slightly. Then he opened them, sharp and knowing. "Your pulse is thin and uneven," he murmured. "There’s damp heat, too. No wonder you’ve been unwell."

Then he gently pulled down Micah’s lower eyelid, looking at it. Next, he asked Micah to show his tongue, inspecting the colour, shape, and coating of the tongue carefully.

"Hmm..." Uncle Lin spoke again. "You have a weak stomach, yes. But it’s not just food. It’s stress too. You’re carrying a heavy load on your shoulders."

Micah nodded, in awe of his quick accuracy.

"I’ll prescribe some nutritional tonics," the old man continued. "You’ll also need a proper diet. And no stress. Not even a little." he paused. "How do you feel about Acupuncture therapy?"

Clyde cut in. "Would you perform it yourself?"

Uncle Lin gave a short nod. "I will be staying in Isatis City for the time being."

Clyde smiled finally. "Thank you, Uncle Lin. I will bring him here anytime that is convenient for you."

Micah gritted his teeth. Hello? Was Clyde thinking of himself as his guardian? Making decisions on his behalf? He was sitting right here!

Before Micah could glare at Clyde, the man glanced at him. "Lucky you. Now you’re free to go back to the dorm."

Micah swallowed his complaint. Fine. At least he wasn’t dragging him to a hospital this time.

He broke into a grin. "Grandpa, I appreciate your help so much. You are a lifesaver. Let me make you tea to show you my gratitude," he said excitedly.

Without waiting for a reply, he stood up, walked over to the nearby tea set, and began to prepare the with smooth practised motions. His fingers moved confidently, folding the cloth, rinsing the leaves, pouring the right temperature of hot water, and letting it steep just the right amount of time.

The other three people were stunned.

Lin Heye asked, voice a bit high. "Wait a second... you know how to do a tea ceremony?"

Micah smiled softly. "I learned it from my grandmother."

"She is Chinese?"

"Yeah, her surname is Zhou," Micah replied.

"Wait, Zhou? Do you mean the famous Zhou family in the jade business? " Lin Heye said, eyes widened.

Micah nodded. "Yeah. That’s them, but unfortunately, they had moved to the southern city."

"Oh. That explained your refined posture and mannerisms!" Uncle Lin said with an approved tone.

Micah looked proud. "Thanks. Grandma would be happy to hear that."

Clyde stood nearby, watching the whole scene. He felt strangely excluded from their conversation. Or more forgotten. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Micah had a way to undermine all the norms around him.

At least the boy was happy.

Then Lin Heye leaned toward Micah, eyes twinkling. "So how did you meet Clyde? This stone-cold man?" he whispered the last part.

Micah’s lips twitched, clearly amused. "He helped me once. I almost collapsed. He took me to the hospital."

"Him?!" Lin Heye exclaimed in mock horror, pointing at Clyde.

Uncle Lin cleared his throat, giving his son a warning look.

Lin Heye quickly straightened up, trying not to laugh. "Really? I mean.., are you sure it was him?"

Micah nodded while rotating the teapot and pouring elegantly the clear tea into a cup. "Yes, he even stayed with me at the hospital." then he offered the tea respectfully to Uncle Lin.

Lin Heye’s jaw hit the table in shock upon hearing Micah’s words.

Meanwhile, his father took a careful sip of the tea Micah had just poured. He hummed in approval. "Very well done. Smooth and balanced."

Micah’s eyes brightened and turned to Lin Heye. "Here, try some too." he poured a cup and passed it over. "Are you a friend of Mr Clyde?" he asked, his tone curious.

Lin Heye took it. "Mr Clyde?" he shot a glare at Clyde. "May I ask how old are you?"

Micah tilted his head. "I will turn nineteen soon."

Lin Heye nearly choked on his tea. Nineteen? Clyde! What were you doing hanging out with kids?

But he didn’t voice it out. He just wiped his mouth. "Yes, we were classmates. Of course, he is younger than me. He was placed two years ahead of his age."

Micah poured another one. "Won’t you sit?" he asked Clyde, placing a teacup on the table.

Clyde finally walked over and sat down beside Micah, accepting the tea without comment. He tried hard not to appear eager to taste the tea.

He lifted it to his lips, took one sip and paused. His eyes flicked toward the boy beside him. It was really fresh and mellow.

Micah watched him from the corner of his eyes. A smug smile spread on his face.

Lin Heye suddenly stood up, "I’ll go check on the food."

As soon as he was out of the room, he yanked his phone from his pocket like a man on a mission. His fingers flew across the screen as he opened a small group chat and started typing furiously. He was exploding inside. He needed to tell someone about what he had seen. Clyde, that iceberg, was acting like a domesticated big silly dog! He had finally lost it!

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