Chasing My Husband! The "Crown Prince" of the Beijing Circle Is Wildly Unruly! - Chapter 62

The Lantern Festival.

Chen Junsheng finally returned home to spend the holiday. He entered the apartment carrying a durian and a box of butter cookies.

“Oh, Xinghe is here too. Perfect, we can all celebrate together,” Chen Junsheng greeted him, acting as if nothing was wrong.

Wang Xinghe couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. Knowing that Xinghe wouldn’t expose him just yet, Chen Junsheng had the thick skin to take a seat at the table. He played the part of the devoted, attentive husband to perfection—opening the durian for Wang Mingyue and handing her chopsticks.

Xinghe had no appetite for the performance. “Sister, I’m heading out. I have things to do,” he cut in abruptly.

“You aren’t staying for dinner?” Mingyue looked at him in surprise. She wondered if his attitude was a lingering result of her previous argument with Junsheng.

“No, I’m meeting a friend. I’ll be going now.” Xinghe walked out of the complex. The scent of cooking fires lingering in the air left him feeling strangely hollow.

Just as he reached the gate, a pair of large, warm hands pulled him back. He looked up into Lu Jingze’s handsome phoenix eyes, which were gazing down at him with tenderness.

“Happy Lantern Festival, Gege. Will you eat with me? I’m hungry.” Lu Jingze took Xinghe’s hand and tucked it into his own overcoat pocket.

Xinghe nodded, not pulling away. “Happy Lantern Festival.”

In the loft apartment directly across from Mingyue’s complex, the dining table was already overflowing. Judging by the presentation and style, it was clearly the work of Lu Jingze’s personal chef and nutritionist. The spread was extravagant to the point of excess.

There was “Buddha Jumps Over the Wall,” Squirrel-shaped Mandarin Fish, Consommé Chinese Cabbage, Longjing Shrimp, lobster, Alaskan King Crab, and several Western-style delicacies.

“This is…” Xinghe was stunned. “It’s just the two of us. How could we possibly finish all this?”

“We’ll eat what we can.” Lu Jingze hung Xinghe’s down jacket on the rack and gently nudged him toward the sink to wash his hands.

He then retrieved a bottle of Château Cheval Blanc from the wine fridge. With practiced elegance, Lu Jingze uncorked the bottle and poured it into a decanter. The deep crimson wine swirled under the light, casting a mesmerizing glow.

Once seated, Xinghe looked at the wine and the feast, then back at Lu Jingze’s burning gaze.

“Gege, cheers. Happy Lantern Festival.”

Xinghe raised his glass and lightly clinked it against Lu’s. The crisp ping echoed through the loft. Xinghe took a sip; the acidic, tannic bite of the red wine made him frown. He truly hadn’t developed a taste for it.

Lu Jingze, however, found the moment refreshing. If Xinghe knew that this single bottle of wine was worth as much as a small apartment, he might have found the taste more agreeable.

Lu Jingze was incredibly attentive, placing food into Xinghe’s bowl. Every dish was exquisite. After they had finished, Lu Jingze led him to the window to look out at the city lights.

“Actually, I could find a much better nutritionist for Sister Mingyue,” Lu Jingze said, leaning in. “You don’t have to work this hard.”

“It’s different.” Xinghe didn’t explain further. He felt a quiet happiness in the fact that his relationship with his sister was finally beginning to mend. Though there were scars between them that could never be spoken of, the current peace was something he hadn’t dared to imagine for years.

“Gege, do you have a wish for yourself?” Lu Jingze pulled him into his arms, resting his head lightly on Xinghe’s shoulder.

“I don’t.” Before his parents’ accident, Xinghe had wanted to be a famous painter. But the plagiarism scandal had dealt him a crushing blow. Art requires money and connections to flourish. A “grassroots” talent like him could be replaced easily—or worse, as in his case, framed for plagiarism with no way to clear his name, banned forever from using his own signature.

After his parents died, he realized he had no wishes left. The only thing that had stirred his emotions recently was the thought that Chen Junsheng—that animal—deserved to die.

As for Lu Jingze, he still couldn’t fully let him in. He knew Lu was doing everything in his power to please him and earn his forgiveness. But his situation was different from Mingyue’s. He needed Mingyue to forgive him so they could be family again. But he had already given Lu Jingze his complete trust and his entire self once before.

Now, he found it impossible to hand himself over again. Furthermore, he reminded himself soberly: His name is Xinghe (Galaxy), yet he was born in the mud. The other’s name is Jingze (Lustrous Marsh), yet he hangs high above the stars.

Xinghe could not reach Lu’s status or background, and he had no desire to become a “canary” dependent on him. For a man, that was a loss of dignity—a slow execution of the soul. The moment he accepted Lu Jingze, he would have to accept Lu’s entire world. In that realm, his own abilities, finances, and reputation would be limited; he would inevitably have to beg Lu for everything.

The weight of their social disparity couldn’t be overcome by simply saying “I love you.” A commoner entering a wealthy clan must be prepared for a bloody struggle. He had neither that resolve nor that ambition. He refused to be looked down upon and bring shame to his parents’ memory.

If Lu Jingze still likes me and the novelty hasn’t worn off, then we’ll maintain this relationship, he thought. Sooner or later, the Great Young Master Lu will find this game of pursuit boring.

“I have a wish,” Lu Jingze whispered near his ear, his voice tinged with a spoiled, coaxing tone. “Will Gege help me fulfill it?”

Xinghe could guess the wish; a man in the throes of passion would naturally want something related to him. But he didn’t call him out. “What is it? Let’s hear it.”

“Gege, I want to kiss you. Can I?” Lu Jingze tightened his grip, leaving Xinghe no room to escape.

In the silence of Xinghe’s hesitation, a large hand cupped the back of his head. Lips flavored with wine pressed down in a fierce, hungry kiss.

This time, Xinghe did not resist. Perhaps the wine had gone to his head, but he didn’t bite Lu’s lip. He kissed back—a mix of clarity and drowning, like a soldier resigned to his fate, marching toward a battlefield with no future.

Feeling the reciprocation, Lu Jingze grew ecstatic. He pressed Xinghe against the wall, shielding his head with his hand. As the kiss deepened, his hands began to wander.

Xinghe broke away and caught his hand. Breathing heavily, he lowered his head to stop him. “Don’t.”

He didn’t want to go that far.

Lu Jingze felt a flash of disappointment, but he had no choice but to stop. He pulled Xinghe into a tight embrace. “Are you going to be the death of me before you’re satisfied?”

“Wang Xinghe, listen to me. This isn’t just a game to me, and it’s not a whim. I truly cannot live without you.”

It was a confession straight from the heart. But Xinghe could only manage a bitter, secret smile.

If there had been no deception from the start… if you had been honest… if you had told me this when you first came looking for me… perhaps I would have willingly gambled everything on you.

But now, he had seen the mask of the “perfect husband” crack on Chen Junsheng. He had seen his own “good brother” ignore his sibling’s suffering. He had seen his sister being maliciously fed toward an early grave. And he still couldn’t let go of that one sentence Lu had once said: “Sir, we are not acquainted. Please do not claim a connection so casually.”

If Lu could discard him for the sake of interest when his love was at its peak, what about the future? When the passion faded into the mundane, what kind of discarded trash would he become then?

How was he supposed to believe him?