Fell Deeply In Love With My Ex-Husband's Fiancé - Chapter 10

Chapter 10: New Prey

Despite Lance’s gentle manner, Lu Feiran could still sense…

“Hello,” Lu Feiran greeted softly, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hello.”

Cheng Ming was Lance’s psychiatrist, and he also unilaterally considered himself a friend of Lance.

At that time, Lance didn’t quite know how to perfectly camouflage himself, and Cheng Ming, who was studying psychology, tracked and investigated him as an excellent research case for a long time. After graduation, Cheng Ming coincidentally became Lance’s psychiatrist, and this “observation study” has continued ever since.

Cheng Ming hadn’t expected anyone else to be at Lance’s house. He watched Lu Feiran sit back down at the table, rubbing the corner of his forehead with the cuff of his slightly oversized sweater, his hands clasped around a steaming hot water mug, looking surprisingly docile.

Lu Feiran felt uncomfortable under his gaze. He took a sip of water and started walking towards the kitchen: “I’ll go call him.”

Cheng Ming noticed Lu Feiran was ill, and his mind turned. He stopped him: “I’m a doctor. Let me check you out.”

Lu Feiran froze, retreating a few steps to look at Lance. Only after confirming Lance nodded at him did he obediently sit on the sofa.

Not only did he stay overnight at Lance’s house, but Lance also called a doctor to examine him. This level of thoughtfulness and attention was extraordinary and made Lu Feiran very uneasy.

Despite having no familial connection, Lance was too kind to him. Even for newly acquainted friends, this was excessive.

There was only one reason: Lance himself was an exceptionally kind person.

“Thank you for your trouble,” Lu Feiran said.

“No trouble at all. I am Lan—”

“Cough, cough!” Lance interrupted Cheng Ming.

Lu Feiran nervously looked at Lance and asked, “Devel, are you sick too?”

Lance just smiled: “I’m not.”

Cheng Ming keenly understood Lance’s intention: he was concealing his true identity from this man.

Considering that Lance hadn’t told anyone about his return to the country this time, Cheng Ming guessed that Lance was operating under the name of his nephew, Noah.

That’s something he would do.

Cheng Ming brought a thermometer as per Lance’s request. Although he wondered why he, a psychiatrist, was doing this, he still carefully disinfected the thermometer.

“Sir, please open your mouth. I’ll take your temperature.”

Cheng Ming leaned close to Lu Feiran. Watching Lu Feiran obediently open his mouth, he observed Lance out of the corner of his eye and slowly extended the thermometer into Lu Feiran’s mouth.

As expected, Lance moved.

He naturally took the thermometer from Cheng Ming’s hand, placed his left hand gently on Lu Feiran’s shoulder, and said softly from a commanding height, “Feiran, open your mouth.”

Cheng Ming watched the seemingly meek, slender man hold the thermometer in his mouth, turned his head, and frowned: “Devel, come here, let me check you too.”

Lance glanced at him, instructed Lu Feiran to keep it in for three minutes, and turned to lead Cheng Ming into the study.

Only after the door was locked from the inside did Cheng Ming whisper: “Is he your new prey?”

He couldn’t help but worry. As Lance’s unilateral friend and psychiatrist, he understood Lance’s condition best.

Lance was extremely arrogant and sensitive, with an inherently cold heart. He could meticulously observe everything in his environment but struggled with empathy. He appeared elegant and gentle, but in reality, he enjoyed manipulating others, like a large feline toying with its prey until death.

He had genuinely cooperated with treatment for a while, even moving to an uninhabited island to eliminate the possibility of encountering a “new prey.”

But Cheng Ming knew in his heart that people like this were never truly cured. Lance, returning three years later, would surely be more skilled at disguise, capable of perfectly simulating a likable personality.

Lance looked at Cheng Ming, his eyes cold, utterly devoid of the warmth he displayed in front of Lu Feiran. He saw him as an obstacle in his way.

Lance said coldly, “Leave the medicine.”

Cheng Ming: “I can sense that your attitude towards him is somewhat cautious.”

Lance gave him an unimpressed look.

Cheng Ming continued: “You never proactively invite me to meet.”

A subtle impatience showed on Lance’s brow: “Because you are convenient.”

“Is that so?” Cheng Ming looked at Lance’s back, frowning. “How about giving yourself a chance to stop this now?”

Lance chuckled softly, his back twitching. He turned sideways, his face now wearing a mask that was somewhat unfamiliar to Cheng Ming. A smile hung on his handsome face, making one mistakenly believe he was looking at them with deep affection, instinctively softening their stance, wanting to listen to what he had to say, and then doing anything according to his will…

Cheng Ming took a deep breath, feeling sorrow for the oblivious Lu Feiran outside, but the most he could do was offer some admonition to Lance, his patient, in his capacity as a doctor.

After saying things no one wanted to hear, Cheng Ming handed the bag to Lance. It contained common household medicines for colds and fever, and Olanzapine for Lance.

He watched Lance take out the portion of medicine meant for Lu Feiran and toss the rest, bag and all, into a cabinet.

He had always known Lance wouldn’t cooperate with taking the medication.

Lance held Lu Feiran’s medicine in his hand, asking like someone warmly hosting a friend: “Cheng Ming, would you like to stay for lunch?”

Such a friendly and inviting gesture—the former Lance would never have done that.

Cheng Ming once again lamented how perfectly Lance was mimicking, and immediately refused. He knew Lance didn’t genuinely want him to stay.

“No, I’m going back. Remember to come for a follow-up visit promptly.”

Cheng Ming left in a hurry. Lu Feiran, holding the thermometer in his mouth, watched Cheng Ming leave without looking back and looked at Lance with bewilderment.

Did they have a falling out?

Lance took the thermometer out of Lu Feiran’s mouth: “$37.8,^{circ}text{C}$ (100.04°F), a low fever. Let’s not take a fever reducer. Take some cold medicine, then sleep for a while. I’ll wake you up in the afternoon, okay?”

Lance’s tone was like coaxing a child. Lu Feiran, facing this level of gentle persuasion for the first time, was completely unable to cope.

His mother died early, and only his maternal grandmother cared for Lu Feiran, but his grandmother’s love was hidden behind strict guidance.

Zhou Zihua was his only close friend, and Zhou Zihua was carefree and frank, never speaking to him in this tone.

In Lu Feiran’s life, Lance, a person so gentle and meticulous, was the only one.

“Mhm, okay.” Lu Feiran’s heart suddenly pounded fast, as if he were about to die.

He was genuinely flustered. What should I do? He should have left earlier, but… he truly couldn’t refuse.

Lu Feiran had no choice but to listen to Lance, return to the room, take off his clothes, and go to sleep. Before falling asleep, he told Zhou Zihua he wasn’t feeling well and would be late in the afternoon.

Ten minutes later, Zhou Zihua replied: [Shoot, my dad needs me for something. I can’t go this afternoon. How about the day after tomorrow?]

But Lu Feiran fell asleep quickly and missed Zhou Zihua’s text message.

…

Lu Feiran was woken up by Lance.

The blonde man merely touched his finger and called his name softly twice, and Lu Feiran woke up confused.

The moment he opened his eyes, he suspected he hadn’t fully woken up, seeing an angel. It took him a while to realize it was Lance.

After taking medicine and sleeping, Lu Feiran felt much better. He felt embarrassed to stay in bed any longer and fumbled for the sweater to put it on.

Lance picked up the sweater and helped Lu Feiran pull it over his head.

Lu Feiran’s cheeks flushed, and it took him a while to emerge from the neckline.

In that instant, he suddenly recalled the scene at Yulin where he saw Zhai Qiance and Lance standing together.

His philandering husband looked at Devel gently, as if he had seen some rare treasure he wanted to hold tightly and never let go.

Lu Feiran lowered his eyelashes, his brows furrowing, wondering why he felt a strange sense of grievance.

He dared not think any further, fearing Zhai Qiance’s repulsive face would appear in his mind.

Lu Feiran finished putting on the sweater, picked up his phone, and saw that Zhou Zihua had stood him up.

He paused for a moment, then quickly replied to Zhou Zihua that he could go alone.

Lance, however, glanced at Lu Feiran’s message and asked, “Are you feeling better? Do you want to rest a bit more?”

Lu Feiran felt too awkward to continue sleeping at someone else’s house and have Lance care for his sickness. Since his condition was much better, he said, “I’m fine. I need to go now. Thank you.”

Lance smiled: “We’re friends, no need to say thank you. Where are you going? I’ll drive you.”

Lu Feiran was about to refuse, but Lance pressed his index finger against his lips.

His finger was cooler than Lu Feiran’s lips and landed on the Cupid’s bow, startling Lu Feiran as if he had touched a hot coal.

“Don’t refuse me. Thanks to you yesterday, I was able to get home safely,” Lance said lightly, then removed his finger.

Lu Feiran was still dazed, pinching his palm to bring his soul back down to earth.

…

Arriving at Qiongzhu Gallery at three in the afternoon was the peak time for visitors.

Lance was looking for a parking spot. Lu Feiran looked at his profile, his fingers involuntarily intertwining.

Didn’t he say he would just drop me off? Why does it seem like he’s planning to go in with me?

Lu Feiran wanted to say something several times but held it in with great effort.

He didn’t dislike Lance; it was just that several coincidental meetings had quickly closed the distance between them, making Lu Feiran feel somewhat flustered.

Lu Feiran turned his face away from Lance. His lowered posture allowed his gaze to be hidden in shadow, making him look a little dejected.

Lance found a parking spot. While parking the car, he said, “My grandmother was a painter. I learned to paint from her for a few years when I was young.”

Lu Feiran looked at Lance again.

Since he said that, how could he refuse him accompanying him to the gallery?

Never mind. Lu Feiran had no choice but to invite Lance, and Lance agreed as he turned off the car engine.

Before driving me here, he probably never considered just dropping me off and leaving, Lu Feiran thought.

Despite Lance’s gentle manner, Lu Feiran could still sense his inherent, powerful proactiveness.

With an extremely gentle yet forceful approach, he had aggressively squeezed into Lu Feiran’s world, nearly occupying the high ground before Lu Feiran could drive him out.

Before meeting Lance, Lu Feiran had always felt that he probably didn’t like forceful men.

Forceful men were mostly like Lu Liyie and Zhai Qiance—selfish, self-centered, and “forcefully” plundering others for their own gain.

Lance was too different from them, a world apart.

Lu Feiran smiled with relief.

Qiongzhu Gallery was far more famous than Lu Feiran had imagined. Seeing many young people dressed like students among the visitors, Lu Feiran knew that Jin Zhan was managing Qiongzhu Gallery very well.

Walking into the gallery, Lu Feiran discovered that Qiongzhu Gallery not only hosted the graduation exhibitions for art academy students but also displayed student paintings from a remote area’s Hope Primary School.

Lu Feiran stopped in front of this small exhibition area.

Perhaps because he stood there for a while, a staff member approached and introduced Qiongzhu Gallery’s one-on-one assistance program with a certain mountain village school to Lu Feiran.

“These paintings have been on display for five days and will be taken down in two days. If no one buys them by then, the curator will personally purchase all the paintings, and the proceeds will be donated entirely to the school for renovating their canteen and improving their meals.”

Lu Feiran was slightly astonished: “Can I buy all of these?”

The staff member couldn’t stop the corners of their mouth from curving up but forcibly suppressed their excitement: “Yes, you can! Please wait in the VIP room for a moment. I’ll contact the curator.”

Lu Feiran’s purpose was to meet Jin Zhan, the curator of Qiongzhu Gallery, the former art academy student, and one of Zhai Qiance’s current lovers.

And Lance, similarly, knew the purpose of Lu Feiran’s visit.

Lance looked at Lu Feiran’s calm profile, mentally anticipating how he would interact with Jin Zhan.

He couldn’t accept Lu Feiran actively seeking out Jin Zhan while being evasive with him.

Lu Feiran had better not be too enthusiastic towards Jin Zhan.