Beautiful Wife: The Cold Boss is My Husband - Chapter 12

Having been cared for by Zhuo Xiao for two years, Yan Chengming had grown accustomed to returning home to hot meals, warm soup, and a wife waiting for him. Now that Zhuo Xiao had left without a word, he found himself alone in the dark, empty villa, like an abandoned large dog.

He dialed Zhuo Xiao’s number several more times, but no one answered. The sliver of hope in Yan Chengming’s heart instantly vanished, and he let out a choked sob.

With trembling hands, he called Chen Xi, anxiously asking, “Didn’t you pick Zhuo Xiao up from the gallery? He still hasn’t come home!”

But Chen Xi replied, “Mr. Yan, I don’t know. Brother Zhuo didn’t ask me to pick him up.”

Where could Zhuo Xiao have gone? In his panic, Yan Chengming remembered Lin Xiao, whom he had met with Zhuo Xiao at the gallery.

He no longer cared about maintaining any semblance of propriety and immediately called Lin Xiao.

After a long silence, Lin Xiao finally spoke: “Um… Chengming, I’m not sure if I should tell you this. After you left, Mr. Zhuo said he wanted to talk to me. He knew the bracelet was a gift from you to me, and he also knew about our interactions back in school. He asked what our relationship is now. He even insisted on buying the bracelet from me. Seeing how determined he was, I had no choice but to give it to him. After that, he left. I’m sorry, I don’t know where he went either.”

As Yan Chengming listened, his mind grew increasingly chaotic. How did Zhuo Xiao find out about his past with Lin Xiao? How did he know about the bracelet? And why was he so insistent on having it?

“Tsk.”

As he pondered, the old wound on the back of his head began to ache faintly. He raised a hand to press against it.

Hearing this, Lin Xiao sensed something was wrong and asked with concern, “Chengming, are you okay? Chengming…”

Yan Chengming’s head throbbed from the incessant calling. Suddenly, a memory flashed through his mind, and his heavy heart jolted violently. Without waiting to hear what Lin Xiao was saying, he hastily ended the call and rushed out.

On the other end, the sudden silence left Lin Xiao blinking slowly. After a long pause, he let out a disappointed sigh.

…

The winter night was bitterly cold and nearly deserted.

Zhuo Xiao sat on the guardrail, facing the turbulent river. The deep night breeze brushed against his expressionless face. In his hand, he held a jade bracelet, its coldness seeping into his skin, turning his slender, pale fingers bright red.

He stared blankly at the shimmering, dark surface of the river, lost in thought. After a long while, he raised his hand and lowered his gaze.

Moonlight fell on the skin of his fingers, illuminating the calluses.

For two years, he had used these hands to cook for Yan Chengming. From burning water to preparing a full banquet of Yan Chengming’s favorite dishes, avoiding every ingredient he disliked.

Calluses had accumulated bit by bit, and his hands had become unrecognizable to him. In the repetitive days of life, he, too, had transformed into someone he no longer recognized.

—

Startled awake from another nightmare, Zhuo Xiao woke drenched in sweat, his throat parched. His forehead was burning, and he pressed the back of his cool hand against it, finally feeling slightly more alert.

This was the thirty-second time he had dreamed of him.

With great effort, Zhuo Xiao sat up. After a long moment of contemplation, he finally called for the butler and said, “Go find me information on someone.”

After obtaining the documents, Zhuo Xiao read through every single word from beginning to end without skipping a line, then fell silent. Just as the butler thought he wanted to be alone and was about to slip out quietly, Zhuo Xiao spoke.

His voice was calm as he asked, “What kind of person do you think someone with his personality would like?”

This abstract question truly stumped the gray-haired butler. How could he possibly answer such a question about someone he’d never even met, whose life was only described in flat text on paper?

After a long contemplation, the butler said, “He has very little romantic experience, almost none at all. The only exception was dating a boy for two and a half days during university. I suppose he might like someone like that.”

Zhuo Xiao instructed him to investigate that boy.

Fortunately, the boy was a minor actor with plenty of recorded footage. The butler gathered all the TV shows, films, and commercials the boy had appeared in—every last one, regardless of size or significance—and handed them all over to Zhuo Xiao.

Zhuo Xiao wasn’t the type to enjoy going out.

He stayed holed up in his room, sitting on the carpet beside the warm, dimly lit fireplace, and watched all the footage at normal speed.

The first time through, he was confused.

He couldn’t understand what was appealing about such a drawn-out way of speaking and delicate mannerisms.

So, he watched it again.

Still didn’t get it.

But that didn’t matter.

During his third viewing, Zhuo Xiao suddenly realized something: whether he understood it or not wasn’t important. What mattered was that Yan Chengming liked it.

And he… Zhuo Xiao flipped open the paper documents and accurately found the line that read, “Was pursued during freshman year, dated the pursuer for two and a half days before rejecting them.”

He wanted to date Yan Chengming too.

Even if it was just for two and a half days.

So, he opened the footage for the fourth time, pausing after each segment to practice imitating the boy’s way of speaking.

“Don’t you think we should eat this?”

“I didn’t mean to, can you forgive me?”

His repeated recitations echoed through the quiet room.

Today, Zhuo Xiao saw that face again, the one he’d grown sick of seeing and that bracelet he’d wanted but couldn’t have, now casually worn on the other person’s wrist.

He knew there was a difference between the genuine article and a counterfeit.

For two years, Yan Chengming had soaked him in sweet words like a honey jar, making him believe that even a counterfeit might hold a bit of truth. But it turned out to be nothing but an illusion.

His nose tingled with emotion. Zhuo Xiao lowered his head to take another look at the bracelet, finding it increasingly irritating, and raised his hand—

Suddenly, the sound of a car door opening came from behind, followed by hurried footsteps and a loud, panicked shout: “Darling, don’t do anything rash!!!”

Zhuo Xiao’s expression froze as he turned around in confusion: “…?”

Yan Chengming saw his wife sitting on the railing in thin clothes, buffeted by the cold wind and waving his arms erratically, looking as if he were about to do something desperate. Yan Chengming felt like his heart was going to stop.

The cold wind made his nose run, and he felt his eyes sting helplessly, as if he were about to cry.

Sniffling, he rushed over: “Darling, it’s a misunderstanding! It has to be a misunderstanding! Don’t leave me behind and jump into the river! Waaah.”

He dashed over in a few quick strides, wrapping his arms around Zhuo Xiao like jelly, hugging him tightly while dragging him away from the edge, sobbing loudly: “Darling, if you have any questions, just ask me! I’ll tell you everything! I’ll explain it all! Waaah.”

Zhuo Xiao was dazed by the heart-wrenching roar, blankly enveloped in a broad chest. It took him a long moment to remember to say, “I wasn’t thinking of doing anything reckless.”

“Then—then why are you sitting here in the middle of the night? It’s dangerous!” Yan Chengming was certain now that he was truly crying; the cold tears traced paths across his face, whipped by the wind. He sniffled as he asked.

Zhuo Xiao opened his mouth, feeling at a loss for the first time. He wanted to brush Yan Chengming off with an excuse, as he had countless times before—one more lie wouldn’t hurt.

But his throat seemed frozen. He realized he couldn’t speak in the soft, pleasing tone Yan Chengming had always liked. Sensing that Yan Chengming might dislike his current stiffness, he averted his gaze and murmured, “I just came here to clear my mind.”

Yet Yan Chengming cupped his face, forcing him to meet his eyes. His warm palms stroked Zhuo Xiao’s cheeks as if trying to melt away the frost of hardship.

“You shouldn’t come to a place like this just to clear your mind,” Yan Chengming said.

Zhuo Xiao saw his red, moist eyes, the bloodshot whites, and heard the tender tone in his voice.

For some reason, his heart trembled, and that flicker of emotion traveled through his nerves to his eyes. Zhuo Xiao’s eyes stung, his voice cracking with emotion.

For the first time, he directly accused Yan Chengming, “You made me sad, so I came here.”

“How did I make you sad, Xiao Xiao? Tell me.” Seeing Zhuo Xiao’s tears shattered Yan Chengming’s heart even more. He knew Zhuo Xiao was genuinely hurting. “You know I can’t always tell,” he added, his large hand clumsily wiping Zhuo Xiao’s eyes, pressing against his lashes and smearing the tears.

Zhuo Xiao’s throat moved, his voice hoarse. He lifted his hand and showed Yan Chengming the bracelet he had been clutching. “I know you really wanted this bracelet, spent a fortune to get it. But something so important—you gave it to Lin Xiao, not me. Do you like him and not me?”

Yan Chengming grew frantic. “Who told you that? Wang Lang? How could he spout such nonsense!”

Seeing that Yan Chengming didn’t immediately deny it, Zhuo Xiao’s heart ached with bitterness. “You must like him. Even being with me is because you think I resemble him.”

“No…” Yan Chengming’s eyes widened, as if hearing this for the first time. He stared at Zhuo Xiao’s righteous yet clearly pained expression. “How are you two alike? You don’t even look similar! He looks like a minor, but you’re so much more handsome!”

“Personality,” Zhuo Xiao blurted out, then paused before adding, “And the way we talk, our expressions, even our names.”

The more he spoke, the less confident he felt. This admission laid bare the fact that he was an imitator before Yan Chengming.

Fate had played a cruel joke on Zhuo Xiao. Though he never intended to mimic even the name, the startling coincidences constantly reminded him that he was fake—deliberately packaged into the version Yan Chengming would love, not his true self.

The one Yan Chengming had married wasn’t the real him. Everything about him was stolen.

Yan Chengming’s eyes widened further as he recalled their mannerisms and expressions. There was some resemblance, but…

He said in utter frustration, “How could it be the same? The same words, the same expression—they’re completely different when different people do them! And also, why are the names Lin Xiao and Zhuo Xiao so similar? They sound the same, but I can read! I’m not illiterate! I can tell the difference!”

Zhuo Xiao was momentarily stunned by his impassioned outburst.

Yan Chengming grew angrier as he spoke, “And this bracelet—yes, I was determined to get it no matter the cost, but that was to spite Hao Tianlei! He talks nonsense behind my back and plays mind games—of course I’m angry! Besides, my brother paid for this bracelet. How could I let you wear it? How unlucky would that be?”

Zhuo Xiao, the one who had actually paid for it, blinked his teary eyes and uttered a confused, “Huh?” He opened his mouth slightly, at a loss for words.

Yan Chengming was truly furious. He pried the bracelet from Zhuo Xiao’s grasp, lifted his hand, and flung it outward—

Plop.

The bracelet sank into the deep, unfathomable river.

Zhuo Xiao hadn’t expected him to do this. He reached out hastily to stop him but was too late. His hand brushed against Yan Chengming’s forearm, only for Yan Chengming to quickly withdraw his arm and grab Zhuo Xiao’s hand instead.

Yan Chengming rubbed Zhuo Xiao’s cold hands, then released them and cupped his equally chilled face. Leaning in, his tall, straight nose brushed against Zhuo Xiao’s.

His tone was coaxing as he said, “Xiao Xiao, let it go. We don’t need the bracelet anymore.”

As the last syllable faded, Yan Chengming pressed closer, his lips meeting Zhuo Xiao’s cold ones.

“Mmm.”

Zhuo Xiao felt a hot, slick tongue licking his lips, melting away the chill until they grew soft and warm. Then, his lips were gently parted.

Zhuo Xiao closed his eyes.

A long while later, he heard Yan Chengming say, “Xiao Xiao, you are one of a kind, not a substitute for anyone. It’s because you’re you that I like you—not anyone else. Otherwise, why would I marry you?”

Zhuo Xiao’s heart was pricked by his words. He lowered his gaze, tracing patterns on Yan Chengming’s chest, his expression unreadable.

After a long silence, he murmured, “You wouldn’t like the real Zhuo Xiao.”