After a Top Idol Married the Sickly Young Master of a Wealthy Family to Bring Him Good Luck - Chapter 8

After a few days of absence, Ling Suiyao’s complexion had improved, and his spirit seemed much brighter.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to pull off late-night bread-stealing and playing ghost to scare people.

Pei Xinglu couldn’t help but mock him: “If I remember correctly, you are someone so critically ill and weak that you needed a feudal superstitious ‘joy-bringing’ marriage to recover. So, what’s this? Not sleeping in the dead of night—are you planning to cultivate immortality on a single breath of air?”

“Shhh!” Ling Suiyao quickly raised a finger, signaling him to lower his voice. He peeked stealthily toward the rooms on the first floor. “Uncle Zhou is sleeping; we can’t wake him up! Let’s talk upstairs.”

Ling Suiyao turned off the lights and, clutching his unfinished bread, tiptoed upstairs.

Hearing no movement behind him, he called out to Pei Xinglu in a stage whisper, hunching his body and waving him over: “Brother Pei? Hurry up and come up.”

Pei Xinglu twitched the corner of his mouth, picked up his phone, and followed him upstairs, carrying his suitcase.

Once upstairs, Pei Xinglu set his things down. Just then, a WeChat message arrived. He pressed the phone button, only to discover that the screen was covered in a dense web of cracks; the lock screen and push notifications were sliced into fragments.

Pei Xinglu: “…”

Ling Suiyao saw it too and said guiltily, “I’m sorry, Brother Pei. I’ll buy you a new one to make up for it.”

Pei Xinglu replied to Yang Xing’s WeChat with an expressionless face, not even looking up: “No need.”

“Then I’ll transfer the repair fee to you?” Ling Suiyao added.

Pei Xinglu’s face remained paralyzed: “No. Need.”

Ling Suiyao felt even more guilty. He lowered his head and said weakly, “Then what do I need to do for Brother Pei to forgive me? I really didn’t do it on purpose.”

Not on purpose?

Pei Xinglu pointed at his watch and asked coldly, “Can the ‘physically weak and sickly’ Young Master Ling explain to me why it is already 1:20 AM, and you aren’t asleep? And even if you aren’t sleeping, why did you hide there without making a sound when you heard me coming?”

It was 99.9% intentional.

Asking him in advance when he would be back, then staging an ambush while wearing those strange monster pajamas.

He was both idle and childish.

Ling Suiyao’s gaze followed Pei Xinglu’s movement to his watch. Certain memories that were detrimental to a good night’s rest instantly woke up, looping infinitely and crashing wildly through his brain.

The tips of Ling Suiyao’s ears turned slightly red. He shook his head repeatedly and answered earnestly, “No, I thought it was a thief, so I didn’t dare make a sound.”

“?” Pei Xinglu didn’t believe a single word of it. “Didn’t you know I was coming back tonight?”

“I’m sorry, Brother Pei. Dad came back to the country today, so I forgot about everything else.”

Ling Suiyao’s eyes were very dark and round. “Originally, Dad wanted me to stay at the old family manor, but then he said the Feng Shui here at Pingye Residence is best for me, so he sent me back. Luckily, I came back; I wouldn’t have seen Brother Pei.”

Pei Xinglu gritted his back teeth. “I’m not wasting words with you. You aren’t sleeping, but I am.”

He took a few steps forward, then stopped again, speechless. His temples throbbed.

Ling Suiyao gave an embarrassed and awkward smile. He hurried over, pulled three plush dolls out from under the covers, and placed them on the carpet against the inner side of his bed. Then, very tactfully, he tidied Pei Xinglu’s bedding and stood obediently to the side.

“Brother Pei is busy with work, so it’s often just me alone. Sometimes it feels empty and lonely, so I put some dolls there to keep me company.”

He made it sound very pitiful.

Pei Xinglu thought to himself, Isn’t this self-inflicted? Who told him to have two beds in one room?

The dignified Ling family had been fooled to this extent by a traveling swindler. Truly embarrassing.

Pei Xinglu didn’t speak. Ling Suiyao, worried that he minded the dolls, said, “Brother Pei, why don’t you sleep in the guest room tonight? I’ll have Uncle Zhou change the linens for you tomorrow.”

Pei Xinglu was just about to move—

When he heard Ling Suiyao say, “But Second Brother came to stay with me a few days ago and slept in the guest room. It seems his things haven’t been cleared out yet, Brother Pei, you…”

The foot Pei Xinglu had stepped out with was pulled back. He said coldly, “I’ll sleep here.”

Ling Suiyao was delighted. “Then Brother Pei should wash up and go to bed early.”

Pei Xinglu looked suspiciously at Ling Suiyao, who looked every bit the picture of a pure, harmless, “good boy.”

But why did he feel like this little sickly kid had said that on purpose just now?

The kid had plenty of schemes.

Forget it. It had nothing to do with him; he didn’t care.

Pei Xinglu took his clothes into the bathroom to shower.

Hearing the sound of water in the bathroom, Ling Suiyao breathed a sigh of relief. He patted his flushed, hot cheeks, pulled out the tablet hidden under the covers, and unlocked it with his fingerprint to start a video.

Over the past few days, he had caught up on the highlight cuts of Pei Xinglu’s talent show from seven years ago. He still liked the live performance of Ding Feng Bo (Calming the Waves) the most—confident, flamboyant, completely devoid of any greenness, and radiating a powerful aura.

As he watched, he accidentally stayed up late.

While spiritual food was important, one could not ignore material needs—simply put, he was hungry.

And then, quite coincidentally, he ran into Brother Pei.

Fate!

After finishing the remaining cranberry bread, Ling Suiyao watched the live singing and dancing performance once more. Seeing that it was truly late, he quickly brushed his teeth and reluctantly turned off the light on his side.

By the time Pei Xinglu finished his shower and came out, Ling Suiyao was already asleep. Perhaps because the lamp on Pei Xinglu’s side was still on, his face was buried in the quilt, leaving only his fluffy hair visible.

Pei Xinglu walked softly to the bedside, turned off the light, and plugged his phone in to charge.

With a ding-dong sound, a square of light suddenly illuminated the pitch-black room.

Pei Xinglu followed the light source above his head; it was the screen of the tablet by Ling Suiyao’s bed.

His vision was comparable to a pilot’s. At a glance, he clearly saw the screen saver on the tablet—a man in a white shirt and black trousers, with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs. A man who could be called perfect.

Pei Xinglu’s expression suddenly became complicated.

So… Ling Suiyao was his fan?

Pei Xinglu sat upright on the edge of the bed with his arms crossed.

Actually, there was no need to be too surprised. He knew he had many fans.

Pei Xinglu flipped the tablet over and placed it on the nightstand.

Then he went back to his own bed, leaning against the headboard to browse Weibo, which was now a chaotic mess due to the shattered screen.

It had been three days. He deeply suspected that “Suisui’s Little Rice Cake” had already jumped ship to another idol. It was clearly the other person who sent the message first, yet after he finally replied, it was like a stone sinking into the ocean.

Since becoming famous, this was the first time Pei Xinglu had messaged someone without receiving a reply.

His self-esteem was seriously bruised.

Pei Xinglu tapped into the private message interface. After hesitating for a long while, he decided to give up. Just as he was about to exit, his thumb accidentally brushed against the cracked part of the screen, mis-tapping an emoji in the bottom right corner.

“Ding-dong—”

At the same time, Ling Suiyao’s tablet chimed again, and the screen lit up once more.

Ling Suiyao rolled over. Seeming to feel stuffy, he pulled the quilt down, his cheek rubbing against the pillow that looked exceptionally soft.

Pei Xinglu froze for a moment. Realizing what happened, he hurriedly retracted the “aggrieved” emoji.

He turned off the network, and the world became quiet.

Ling Suiyao’s tablet didn’t ring again.

The next morning, when Pei Xinglu woke up, Ling Suiyao was already out of bed. The quilt was folded neatly, a panda pillow sat by the bed, and a row of animal plushies stood on the carpet.

After washing up, Pei Xinglu went downstairs. Ling Suiyao turned his head to wave at him, a radiant smile on his face: “Brother Pei, good morning!”

Pei Xinglu pulled out a chair and sat opposite Ling Suiyao, eating breakfast with a weary expression.

“Brother Pei, did you not sleep well yesterday?” Ling Suiyao pushed a glass of warmed milk toward him.

Pei Xinglu sat with poor posture.

Traveling between several cities and then sleeping in a strange, rejected environment—it would be a miracle if he slept well.

However, when he met Ling Suiyao’s bright, clear eyes, he suddenly remembered the screen saver on the tablet from the early hours. Realizing this person was his fan, Pei Xinglu immediately sat up straight and gave an “Mhm.”

There were faint dark circles under Pei Xinglu’s eyes, yet they added a touch of atmospheric storytelling to his face.

Before his performance in the movie Ding Feng Bo, many people didn’t think highly of him, feeling he couldn’t carry a big-screen role.

Looking at him now, this face worked for both movies and TV dramas—a natural-born actor.

Pei Xinglu lifted his eyelids. Sure enough, Ling Suiyao was staring at him with the literal “starry eyes” of a fan looking at an idol.

Pei Xinglu’s brow twitched. He tapped his finger on the table and asked back, none too friendly: “Is there breakfast on my face?”

Ling Suiyao pursed his lips, controlling his expression. He reminded himself to abide by the “joy-bringing” marriage agreement and not cross any boundaries.

He said politely, “I wanted to say, if there’s anything you aren’t used to in daily life, you can tell Uncle Zhou. He will handle it. After all, there are still three years left.”

Pei Xinglu pinched the bridge of his nose.

Truly, thanks for the reminder.

Three more years until liberation.

Ling Suiyao added another sentence: “Don’t be a stranger, Brother Pei. Uncle Zhou is a very good person.”

Speak of the devil.

Butler Zhou paced into view behind Ling Suiyao, whispering like a demon: “Little Master, when I opened the refrigerator just now, it seemed like two pieces of the bread the Master brought back yesterday were missing.”

Pei Xinglu swept a heavy glance toward the culprit, Ling Suiyao.

Ling Suiyao blinked: “How could that be? Did Uncle Zhou count wrong?”

He stood up and very obediently helped Butler Zhou sit down, then circled to Pei Xinglu’s side. “Uncle Zhou, you haven’t had breakfast yet, have you? Quick, eat some, or it’ll get cold.”

“Thank you, Little Master, but I’ve already eaten. Let’s continue talking about the bread.” Butler Zhou maintained an air of being beyond temptation. “After my inspection, I found that a cranberry scone and a butterfly pastry are missing. Little Master, did you sneakily eat them?”

“Of course not.”

Ling Suiyao raised two fingers to swear, while his other hand secretly tugged at Pei Xinglu’s sleeve.

Pei Xinglu remained unmoved, drinking his healthy nutritional porridge.

Butler Zhou said with certainty: “Little Master, who else could it be but you?”

“It’s…”

Ling Suiyao tugged Pei Xinglu’s sleeve again, casting a pleading look that had “please, please” written all over it.

Looking quite pathetic.

He originally didn’t want to get involved, but… after all, he was a fan.

Pei Xinglu said lazily, “I ate them. I didn’t arrive until after one in the morning yesterday. I was hungry, saw the bread in the fridge, and just grabbed a few pieces to fill my stomach.”

He put down his chopsticks and gave a fake smile: “Butler Zhou, I can testify that no little thief entered Pingye Residence.”

Butler Zhou was half-skeptical. “Is that so?”

Pei Xinglu shrugged, looking as if he didn’t care whether the butler believed him or not.

“Uncle Zhou, I was long asleep by one o’clock. It couldn’t have been me. If you don’t believe me, ask Brother Pei,” Ling Suiyao said.

Pei Xinglu covered a yawn with his hand. “Ah, right. He was asleep long ago. He slept—very soundly.”

He put heavy emphasis on the last two words.

Butler Zhou’s suspicious gaze returned once more. Ling Suiyao immediately put on a smiling, innocent look and nodded: “That’s right, I slept very soundly. My sleep has been super good these past few days.”

Pei Xinglu thought to himself, Heh. You couldn’t tell from the outside, but this sickly kid who acted all sweet and obedient was actually quite the little liar.

However, Ling Suiyao didn’t get away with it entirely.

Butler Zhou earnestly told him again that he couldn’t stay up late or eat random things. After saying it once, the butler called Madam Ling and the newly returned Master Ling, and together they lectured him on the particulars of nursing his health for over an hour.

During this time, Ling Suiyao kept his head down and listened to the reprimand, knowing he had made a mistake and reflecting seriously.

After the lecture ended, Ling Suiyao took his medicine under Butler Zhou’s supervision before finally gaining his freedom.

Ling Suiyao finally showed a trace of a relieved smile and went upstairs to the room.

Pei Xinglu looked up briefly, then continued reading his script.

A few minutes later, Ling Suiyao came down, holding a long white box in his hand, which he handed to Pei Xinglu.

“A phone?”

Pei Xinglu frowned. The box bore the logo and name of a certain latest-model smartphone.

Ling Suiyao said, “This was a gift from my eldest brother. I haven’t unboxed it yet. Just take it as compensation and thanks. I checked; this phone is from the same series as the one you endorse, so there’s no conflict.”

“I said no need…” Pei Xinglu tried to give it back.

Ling Suiyao took a step back first, hiding his hands behind his back and shaking his head stubbornly: “A gift given is like water poured out; it can’t be taken back. You deal with it yourself, Brother Pei.”

Having said that, he walked away happily.

However, after only a few steps, he suddenly popped back and crouched in front of the coffee table. He picked up the book on the table and smiled in surprise: “This set of Zhe Dao Xing (The Folding Blade’s Journey) is out of print! Brother Pei, is this yours?”

“Mhm.”

“Can I take a look?”

Ling Suiyao’s eyes were glowing.

Pei Xinglu: “…Up to you. Just don’t damage it.”

He wasn’t a stingy person.

Ling Suiyao started reading from the first volume with great interest. Occasionally, he would hit a certain part and get goosebumps, his scalp tingling with embarrassment. He muttered to himself: “Oh dear, the writing here is so sentimental, and the plot arrangement is very forced.”

Seeing his favorite book being criticized, Pei Xinglu’s lip curled. Displeased, he said: “You’re so capable, why don’t you go write one then?”

Ling Suiyao blinked and casually tossed out a sentence—

“But I wrote this book.”