Fell Deeply In Love With My Ex-Husband's Fiancé - Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Raphael looked up at Lance kneeling on his body…

Back at Lance’s house, Lu Feiran familiarly grabbed a pair of pajamas and took a shower.

He had been rolling around on the ground with Lu Xingli several times, and he was filthy.

He thought to himself that it was a good thing he had been exercising frequently during this time and his physical strength had improved a bit, otherwise, even though Lu Xingli was thinner but not taller than him, he might not have been able to hold Lu Xingli down.

After the shower, Lu Feiran lingered and didn’t come out. He wiped away the misty condensation on the mirror, looking at his own red, tear-stained eyes in the reflection, feeling terribly panicked.

He had been too reckless, actually crying like that in someone’s arms.

How was he going to smooth this over now? As soon as he went out, he would be relentlessly questioned about what had happened today and why he was crying. And he had already promised Lance that he would tell him everything, without reservation, when they got home.

Lu Feiran didn’t want to lie to him anymore.

“Sit down.”

Lance was holding a towel in his hand, and the towel was bulky, wrapping something up. When Lu Feiran approached, he realized it was a packet of ice.

“What is it?” Lu Feiran sat down.

“For your ice pack.”

Lu Feiran’s fingertip touched the ice-wrapped towel, and he quickly withdrew his hand, curling his fingers and hiding his fingertips in his palm.

He was quite sensitive to the cold.

“It’s okay, it will disappear in a few days.” This cold thing on his neck, it would freeze him to death!

But he was extremely grateful to Lance in his heart, marveling at how thoughtful he was. Zhou Zihua, in contrast, was not so meticulous. Zhou Zihua didn’t have the spare inclination to insist on him using an ice pack, and might not even know that ice could help with bruising.

“Come here.”

Lance’s face was devoid of expression, and he commanded Lu Feiran in a low, steady voice. His attitude brooked no refusal, watching Lu Feiran lean his head back, lifting his chin, and exposing his entire fair neck completely to his view.

That area should have been snow-white, but there were markings that shouldn’t have been there.

Lance’s eyes darkened, and he forcibly suppressed the surging emotion. He gently touched Lu Feiran with the ice-wrapped towel, and saw Lu Feiran shiver violently.

Lu Feiran pleaded pitifully: “It’s too cold, I’m sensitive to the cold, let’s not ice it anymore.”

Lance didn’t speak, meaning he wouldn’t compromise.

But he sighed, lifted his left leg and knelt on the outside of Lu Feiran’s thigh, grasping the towel-wrapped ice pack in his hand. After a moment, his warm, large palm gently covered Lu Feiran’s neck.

“Will this be better?” Lance’s tone softened considerably.

The warmth of his hand neutralized the damp coldness of the ice, gently conforming to Lu Feiran’s neck.

The most vulnerable place was held by someone again, but there was no sense of suffocation or pain, and he wasn’t facing that twisted, angry face. Lu Feiran looked up at Lance kneeling on his body, like the compassionate Raphael, the healing holy light shining upon his entire being.

Lu Feiran became unusually docile, no longer saying things like the ice pack was useless or unnecessary.

But Lu Feiran wasn’t wrong, this kind of ice pack wasn’t of much use. The glaring fingerprints still remained on his neck, which made Lance very unhappy to look at.

Lance used a warm towel to heat Lu Feiran’s neck, and then found a thin scarf and wrapped it around him circle after circle.

Lu Feiran: “Why do I have to wear a scarf even at home?”

Lance’s fingers paused: “You’re sensitive to the cold, don’t catch a cold.”

Lu Feiran stopped talking. He could tell that Lance had been in a bad mood ever since he saw those marks; perhaps he just didn’t want to look at them.

Ding. The oven timer finished, and Lance decisively drew away, put on oven mitts, and opened the oven.

Before Lu Feiran could react, he was the only one left in the vast living room.

Finally able to relax, Lu Feiran immediately slumped onto the sofa with no regard for his image. He touched the scarf on his neck with his fingers. Lance’s assertive demeanor lingered in his mind.

Is he really only 21 years old?

Lu Feiran felt a sense of incongruity but could only force himself to accept it, figuring that heirs of families like theirs were probably all like this.

A sweet aroma gradually wafted from the direction of the kitchen. Lu Feiran sat up straight, got up, and followed the source of the smell.

He narrowed his eyes and hovered about a meter away from Lance, watching his skilled, busy back. He felt like a swollen marshmallow in his heart.

Looking at him like this, he didn’t seem like a young master anymore.

“You’re really good at making things, so amazing,” Lu Feiran praised sincerely. “Few men your age enjoy doing this, especially when you’re a young master.”

Lance’s movements slowed down a little. He couldn’t really say he loved doing this, but whenever he worked with food, he could always achieve peace of mind.

When he was desperate for something he couldn’t have, when he was jealous and resentful, when he was angry and manic, when he was about to turn into a twisted worm… Watching various ingredients change form in his hands and emit tempting aromas, he could always calm down.

When his servants were around, he would give them the finished products to take away. If there was no one around, even the best food could only be thrown away.

Lance enjoyed the process of cooking food, but he didn’t value the result.

However, if these things could all go into Lu Feiran’s stomach…

“What are you making?”

Lu Feiran only moved closer after Lance took the food out and placed it down.

“Apple pie,” Lance said. “Want some?”

Before going to pick up Lu Feiran, Lance had already started making the apple pie. Everything was ready, and he only put the pie into the oven and set the timer after getting Lu Feiran home.

Originally, he had planned to throw it away after it was done.

Lu Feiran nodded: “Yes!”

It smelled so good! Hot and steaming! The golden, flaky crust looked delicious! He had tried his best to eat a lot at the Lu family dinner tonight, but seeing those people made him nauseous, and he hadn’t eaten enough!

“Wait, let it cool a bit before eating.”

“So… Ranran, when are you planning to start? Telling your story from tonight?”

Lance set the apple pie aside, turned around composedly, and watched Lu Feiran stiffen and flinch, then smiled.

What kind of story will he make up to lie to me this time? Lance thought.

“Hmm…” Lu Feiran’s mind suddenly worked incredibly fast. “Actually, today, I finally drew a line with a group of people I despise. It was a very happy day. I cried because I was happy, my heart wasn’t sad at all.”

“Really? Your tears didn’t say that.”

“Huh?”

“Happy tears are sweet; sad tears are bitter. Your tears were bitter,” Lance leaned against the kitchen counter, his ambiguous whisper sounding like constant declarations of love.

Lu Feiran touched his own cheek. Why was it burning!

What sweet and bitter? All tears are salty!

Saying such a thing… it was as if he had tasted them…

Lance continued: “You’ve been enduring for a long time, haven’t you? Why stop enduring now? What happened that made you suddenly decide not to endure anymore?”

Lance looked up, and Lu Feiran suddenly felt the urge to flee. Lance’s profound gaze was like a deep pool, sucking Lu Feiran into a whirlpool.

After seeing the text message from Zhou Zihua, Lu Feiran hadn’t replied for almost a day. Even after being reminded by Aunt Chen to check the surveillance footage, he didn’t feel the urge to call and question Zhai Qiance.

Even during the meal at Yu Lin, Lu Feiran had wanted Zhou Zihua to stop talking, just to give him a moment to breathe.

It wasn’t until he saw Lance that anger and resentment broke through the dam of suppression, and for the first time, Lu Feiran wanted to ask, “Why?”

Lu Feiran smiled: “Because I met a very special person, and it made me feel that those other people are simply awful.”

Lance’s finger twitched. He was eager to ask who that person was, and immediately searched Lu Feiran’s network of relationships in his mind, but couldn’t find any particularly special existence.

Lance’s throat tightened, and he tentatively asked: “Does that include your husband?”

“…It includes him.”

“Then, what are your thoughts?”

Both became hesitant, unsure whether to ask or whether to answer.

“What thoughts could I have? Just live my own life, I guess!”

Lu Feiran intended to gloss over it, but in Lance’s ears, it meant something else.

Even after all this, he still intended to continue living with Zhai Qiance? Lu Feiran was truly beyond the limit of kind and weak.

“You don’t wear a wedding ring, is that also because he’s awful?” Lance’s gaze dropped, resting on Lu Feiran’s fingers, which were bare.

Lu Feiran rubbed the base of his ring finger: “I never wore the wedding ring from the beginning. I don’t like this kind of adornment; it feels like being branded as belonging to someone else.”

Hearing this, Lance looked elsewhere, contemplating things Lu Feiran couldn’t possibly guess.

In his view, a ring or anything else was just an extra formality. No matter how much Lu Feiran tried to be brave, he couldn’t turn into a tiger. Since he was a kitten, he would always be trapped and molded by others.

If it hadn’t been Zhai Qiance who appeared, Lu Feiran would have fallen into someone else’s trap.

For example, Lance himself was a trap.

The apple pie finally cooled down a bit. Lance handed the knife to Lu Feiran, telling him to eat as much as he wanted.

…

After tearing off the facade with Zhai Qiance, Lu Feiran took a few days off work and arranged to meet Jin Zhan at the Qiong Zhu Gallery.

This time, Lu Feiran was led in by Jin Zhan’s assistant, who directly knocked on the door of Jin Zhan’s studio.

Jin Zhan looked disheveled, with an obvious look of fatigue on his face, completely unlike the polite, spirited curator Lu Feiran had seen a few days ago; he looked more like a university student tormented and balding from his graduation project.

Jin Zhan was wearing an apron, and his fingers, arms, and even his white shirt were stained, with drops of oil paint on his trouser legs.

Seeing Lu Feiran enter, Jin Zhan showed the first genuinely happy smile he’d managed in days: “Mr. Lu, you’re here. I apologize, my place is messy, and I haven’t had time to tidy up.”

Lu Feiran walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked at the vibrant potted plants one by one, saying, “It’s fine, I actually think your studio has a lot of artistic atmosphere.”

Jin Zhan put down his charcoal pencil and picked up a Pad to show Lu Feiran the theme for the next children’s exhibition: “I’ve conceptualized three themes. Which one do you think is better, Mr. Lu?”

Lu Feiran took the Pad and discussed it with Jin Zhan for a while. Seeing Jin Zhan rub his eyes, he asked, “Are you not in a good state recently? Is something bothering you?”

Jin Zhan was stunned for a moment, then forced a relaxed smile: “You must have heard what happened the day you were here last time, right?”

Lu Feiran averted his gaze, not wanting Jin Zhan to feel embarrassed: “I don’t know the details.”

“…” A complex emotion surged in Jin Zhan’s eyes. He wanted to say something, but held it back, and sat down in front of the easel again: “I’ve been trying to paint some new pieces recently, but I lack inspiration. I want to paint some portraits to calm my mind. If you’re not in a hurry, Mr. Lu, would you mind modeling for me?”

The sun outside was just right, shining through the floor-to-ceiling window and plating Lu Feiran with a fuzzy golden edge.

Jin Zhan looked at his smile, thought of his own lazy cat, and his eyes showed expectation.

“Sure, how should I pose? What posture should I take?” Lu Feiran agreed readily.

Jin Zhan placed a tall stool by the window: “You can just sit here. Tilt your face slightly and look at this potted plant.”

Lu Feiran sat down as instructed.

Jin Zhan stepped back a few steps to look at the overall composition, then hesitated: “Could you take off your scarf?”

Lu Feiran froze. This was Lance’s scarf. Hidden beneath the scarf were the purplish-red fingerprints that Lance couldn’t completely fade away despite his best efforts last night.

A night had passed, and the color was somewhat hideous. Lu Feiran was hesitant.

Jin Zhan noticed Lu Feiran’s discomfort and immediately said: “It’s okay, you don’t have to take it off.”

Lu Feiran still took off the scarf. For no other reason, he needed to close the distance with Jin Zhan.

As expected, the moment Jin Zhan saw Lu Feiran’s neck, his eyes widened, and the shock on his face was hard to hide. But he quickly controlled himself, didn’t say anything, and silently prepared a new sheet of paper.

Lu Feiran suddenly smiled very broadly, his eyes squinted so his pupils were barely visible, and his clean, straight teeth were showing. He was lively and vibrant, making the sunlight seem dim in comparison.

Jin Zhan captured this moment, his mind constantly replaying Lu Feiran’s smile, determined to deeply imprint it in his memory.

He drew like a man possessed, completing a complex play of light and shadow in one painting using only charcoal pencil and an eraser.

Lu Feiran couldn’t draw, and he couldn’t imagine how Jin Zhan could paint so quickly and so well, depicting his momentary smile and expression so vividly.

He thought Jin Zhan was talented.

Jin Zhan took over Qiong Zhu Gallery and was a manager rather than a painter, so painting could only be his hobby, which must have caused some frustration.

Lu Feiran understood, so he didn’t mention it.

Jin Zhan took down the portrait of Lu Feiran and asked his assistant to frame it, intending to give it to him.

Lu Feiran just took a photo: “It’s inconvenient to keep valuable items at my house right now. Can I leave it with you for now?”

Jin Zhan immediately showed an understanding expression, took down an early painting from the wall, and hung up Lu Feiran’s portrait.

The studio fell silent again. Lu Feiran felt enough time had passed, so he sat on the sofa and poured himself a cup of hot tea.

Sure enough, Jin Zhan slowly began to speak while tidying up: “Actually, that day was the first time I met that person. He said he was my lover’s husband.”