After Ghost Marriage with My Arch-Rival - Chapter 11

After leaving the study, Liu Xiangyi washed his face to clear his head. He instinctively began walking toward his own bedroom but stopped halfway.

If he suddenly retreated to his own room to sleep, he could already imagine the mockery Zhong Qinhuai would heap upon him. He absolutely could not show a hint of cowardice in front of that kid!

Liu Xiangyi turned back, climbed into the coffin, lay down, and closed his eyes to fake sleep.

This way, it won’t be awkward when he comes in. Genius!

Liu Xiangyi lay there resting his eyes for a while before the mattress on the other side of the coffin dipped slightly.

Liu Xiangyi: “…”

Do ghosts really walk without making a sound?

As Zhong Qinhuai lay down, a faint ghostly chill, mixed with the scent of body wash and lingering steam, drifted over.

Liu Xiangyi: “?”

If I recall correctly, his hair was already wet when he came to the study. He’d clearly already showered, why did he take another one?

Then, the mattress shifted with a faint rustle. Zhong Qinhuai had rolled over.

In the darkness, Liu Xiangyi felt a hollow, lingering gaze fixed squarely on him.

Liu Xiangyi: “?”

This kid has been a very ‘honest’ sleeper the past few nights, staying perfectly still in one position. Why is he so restless tonight?

The intensity of the gaze was impossible to ignore. Liu Xiangyi continued to play dead, wondering if he should speak up and tell the guy to knock it off, when the mattress creaked again. Finally, Zhong Qinhuai turned away.

Liu Xiangyi breathed a silent sigh of relief. But a moment later—creak. Zhong Qinhuai had turned back to stare at him again.

Liu Xiangyi: “…”

Tossing and turning like this. I guess that ‘contest’ in the study wasn’t nearly as casual for him as he pretended, huh?

Good.

Who told him to insist on ‘misunderstanding’ that I have a crush on him? Can’t sleep now, can you? Tossing and turning like you’re sitting on a bed of needles?

Behind his closed eyelids, the corners of Liu Xiangyi’s lips curled up in a tiny smirk.

The next morning, Liu Xiangyi went downstairs to find Zhong Qinhuai already up. He was curled into a beanbag chair in the corner of the living room, holding a book.

Liu Xiangyi made sure to sneak a glance at the title: The Wise Do Not Fall in Love.

Zhong Qinhuai seemed back to normal, lacking the strangeness of the previous night. He wore his usual expression of airy indifference.

Liu Xiangyi smiled and remarked as if in passing, “President Zhong, you look a bit drained today. Didn’t sleep well last night?”

To his surprise, the kid admitted it quite candidly. “I didn’t.”

He continued with natural, languid ease, “I spent the whole time thinking about how to win the next contest.”

Liu Xiangyi: “?”

Seeing Liu Xiangyi fall silent, Zhong Qinhuai set down his book and offered a provocative arch of his brow. “You didn’t already forget what you said last night, did you, President Liu? You called for an ‘intermission’ and said we’d ‘continue next time’.”

He even had the audacity to urge him: “So, are you well-rested? When shall we continue?”

Liu Xiangyi: “…”

How can this guy say such embarrassing things in broad daylight with a straight face?

While he did need to continue to siphon yin energy, surely a contest shouldn’t take place in the middle of the day?

Liu Xiangyi cleared his throat, remembering that if he hadn’t faked sleep last night, he wouldn’t have known that this guy who looked so calm on the surface was actually losing his mind internally. A trash bag isn’t as full of it as he is!

He wants to talk big? Fine, two can play at that game!

Liu Xiangyi fired back with a competitive smile, “Since I have such a ‘crush’ on you, President Zhong, next time for sure.”

Even though he had used this line many times now, the “Magic Attack” remained incredibly effective! Every time Zhong Qinhuai heard it, his expression turned remarkably peculiar.

Satisfied that he’d won the round, Liu Xiangyi proceeded to change Zhong Qinhuai’s bandages as usual. When he unwrapped the gauze, however, his brows knitted. The deep wound on the palm showed no signs of healing; the flesh was still raw and seeping blood.

Zhong Qinhuai sat in the beanbag chair, resting his chin on his uninjured hand, watching Liu Xiangyi re-apply the medication. Liu Xiangyi’s fingertips occasionally brushed against his skin, carrying a coolness like a morning breeze—like a light feather fluttering across his palm.

With every brush of contact, the corners of Zhong Qinhuai’s mouth lifted just a fraction. He looked relaxed, almost as if he were enjoying himself.

When the bandage was finished and Liu Xiangyi withdrew his hand, Zhong Qinhuai’s fingers twitched instinctively, as if trying to catch something in the air. Their fingertips met for a fleeting, subtle moment in mid-air before Liu Xiangyi pulled away and Zhong Qinhuai let his hand drop.

The contact was so brief that Liu Xiangyi didn’t notice. He stood up and suggested they go out for dinner. He had looked it up online; a hand injury required high protein to heal properly. If it worked for humans, it should work for ghosts, right?

“So, would President Zhong do me the honor?”

Zhong Qinhuai was still staring at his own fingers, rubbing them together as if lost in a melancholic trance. It took Liu Xiangyi asking a second time for him to snap out of it. He glanced out the window.

Sunlight filtered through the dense leaves, and the crows hidden in the banyan tree were restless from the heat, flapping their wings to cool themselves down.

Zhong Qinhuai shifted his gaze back to Liu Xiangyi’s face. “The weather is bad during the day,” he said lazily. “Not suitable for going out.”

Liu Xiangyi: “?”

The sky is perfectly clear—how is the weather ‘bad’?

He suddenly remembered folklore about ghosts being afraid of the sun. He crossed his arms and smiled. “Then, my Distinguished President Zhong, what kind of weather would convince you to do me the honor of having dinner?”

Zhong Qinhuai replied, “The Distinguished President Zhong is available tonight.”

Liu Xiangyi: “…”

I thought so.

Liu Xiangyi spent the rest of the day working in his study. When dusk fell and he stepped out, he found himself thinking: Zhong Qinhuai didn’t disturb me once. He was perfectly quiet. This kind of ‘co-habitation’ without interference is actually quite harmonious.

Then he saw Zhong Qinhuai still curled in the beanbag chair reading. Liu Xiangyi squinted at the new title: 108 Tricks to Make Your Rival Kneel and Sing of Your Conquest.

Liu Xiangyi: “…”

I spoke too soon.

An hour later, a yellow Bentley pulled up in front of a private club. Liu Xiangyi tossed his keys to the valet and headed inside.

The moment he stepped through the door, a young man with dyed yellow hair lunged toward him, aiming a kiss at Liu Xiangyi’s cheek.

Caught off guard, Liu Xiangyi was about to be hit when a violent, icy wind suddenly roared through the entrance. Everyone in the lobby was knocked off-balance; the yellow-haired youth was sent flying through the air, hitting the wall before sliding to the floor.

Liu Xiangyi: “…”

Behind the door stood seven or eight others. Liu Xiangyi recognized a few of them—scions of the city’s wealthy elite.

Once the wind died down, they steadied themselves and realized who had arrived. They immediately scrambled to apologize.

“Sorry, President Liu! We’re celebrating a birthday and playing Truth or Dare. He lost, and the dare was to wait by the door and kiss the tenth person who walked in. We didn’t mean to offend you!”

As they spoke, the boy who had been blown away stood up shakily. He looked toward the door and froze. Standing there was a tall, elegant young man wearing large sunglasses that masked the upper half of his face, leaving only a refined, pale chin visible.

“President Liu!” The yellow-haired youth’s eyes lit up, and he dashed toward him again. Before he could get close, another blast of icy wind roared through the lobby. The boy was sent flying once more.

Thud! This time, he was blown straight through the back doors of the lobby, which slammed shut with a resounding bang, locking him outside.

Liu Xiangyi: “…”

Everyone in the lobby: “…”

The room erupted in whispers over the bizarre occurrence. Liu Xiangyi knew exactly where that wind had come from. To prevent further scenes, he headed straight for his private room.

The club manager, hearing the commotion, hurried over. He caught up to Liu Xiangyi in the hallway, his face plastered with a welcoming smile. “President Liu! How many in your party?”

Liu Xiangyi paused. “Two,” he replied with a smile.

The manager looked around. He only saw Liu Xiangyi. Though puzzled, he didn’t pry and quickly ordered the staff to bring out the pre-ordered dishes.

Liu Xiangyi sat down in the private room and glanced at Zhong Qinhuai sitting across from him. Even though the ghost was right there, the manager and the server acted as if he were invisible, setting the table for only one person.

So, am I the only one who can see him?

To test this, Liu Xiangyi asked the server to set another place across from him. The server looked at the empty seat, hesitated, and set a place anyway. However, she didn’t realize the setting was misaligned, placing the chopsticks and bowl right next to where Zhong Qinhuai was actually sitting.

Liu Xiangyi confirmed it then: no one else could see this ghost.

Once the food was served and the staff had left, the room was occupied by only one man and one ghost.

Liu Xiangyi glanced at the plates of seafood covering the table, then shifted his gaze to Zhong Qinhuai’s still-bandaged hand. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled on a pair of gloves and began peeling shrimp.

“Wasn’t President Zhong being a bit rude just now?” he asked with a faint, knowing smile.

Zhong Qinhuai rested his chin in his hand and let out a flat, “Oh?”

“Indeed, how rude of me,” Zhong Qinhuai continued. “President Director Liu actually enjoys being kissed by strangers?”

Liu Xiangyi: “?”

Zhong Qinhuai added frostily, “My apologies for being so thoughtless and ruining your fun. Since President Liu is a man of such politeness, quality, and refinement, surely you wouldn’t stoop to my level and take offense?”

Liu Xiangyi: “…”

Forget it. I’ll just keep peeling.

Meanwhile, the yellow-haired youth from the “Truth or Dare” game walked up to the private room door.

He took a deep breath and knocked. There was no response. He had already confirmed with the manager that Liu Xiangyi was in this room; and while Liu Xiangyi had requested a table for two, the manager said he was currently alone.

This was a rare opportunity!

Finding no response to his knock, the youth tried to push the door open, only to find it wouldn’t budge an inch.

Yellow-haired youth: “?”

He pushed again. It was like a “ghost wall”—no matter how hard he shoved, the door remained immovable. He slammed his fist against it. A loud thud echoed through the hallway, but the door remained steady.

Inside the room, not a single sound could be heard. It was a picture of absolute tranquility.

As if sensing something, Zhong Qinhuai turned to glance at the door, his brow furrowing slightly as if he had spotted something filthy.

Liu Xiangyi followed his gaze, but the door looked perfectly normal to him. “What is it?” he asked.

Zhong Qinhuai shifted his focus back to Liu Xiangyi, arching an eyebrow. “Nothing. Just a mosquito.”

Liu Xiangyi: “?”

He didn’t press the issue and returned to his task. Zhong Qinhuai watched him from across the table, staring as if observing some rare, exotic creature.

Feeling the weight of that intense gaze, Liu Xiangyi kept his head down, focused on the shrimp. He teased, “Has President Zhong never seen someone peel shrimp before?”

Zhong Qinhuai looked at Liu Xiangyi’s hands—slender, pale, and clearly well-kept; the hands of someone who enjoyed a life of privilege and never touched housework. Now, those hands were efficiently stripping shells, one after another, leaving the meat clean and whole.

“Don’t you think this is a waste of time, President Liu?”

“Naturally.”

For a man who usually finished his lunch in five minutes, peeling shrimp was a pure waste of effort; he’d usually rather not eat them at all.

Once he had filled a small bowl to the brim, Liu Xiangyi slid the heap of shrimp meat over to Zhong Qinhuai and replied with a smile:

“But what can I do? I’m ‘nurturing a secret crush’ on you, after all.”

Zhong Qinhuai: “…”

Realizing that this entire bowl of shrimp had been peeled specifically for him, Zhong Qinhuai stared at Liu Xiangyi, frozen.