Fell Deeply In Love With My Ex-Husband's Fiancé - Chapter 23

Chapter 23: The Law of Apology (2)

The lingering wetness on his fingertip, licked by a tongue…

“Feiran, you need to compensate me with a proper meal,” Lance said, standing in the supermarket. “Come choose the ingredients, according to your taste.”

Lu Feiran had considered treating Lance to a proper meal, but he hadn’t realized Lance’s focus was on “together,” not just the “meal.”

“You’ll cook?” Lu Feiran was a little unsure of Lance’s intention. Who apologizes this way?

“Don’t think it ends this easily. All of your time today belongs to me,” Lance said, leaving no room for argument.

“Fine, I’ll stay at your place today. When you’re satisfied, I’ll leave,” Lu Feiran indulged Lance, his tone light and playful, like he was coaxing someone.

In front of almost every ingredient, Lu Feiran would discuss with Lance what dishes they could make. He was cautious, checking recipes as they shopped. If a dish seemed too troublesome or time-consuming, he would put the item back.

Lance had to stop him: “I told you, I can cook all of it. I can make Chinese food if you want. Theoretically, I can cook all types of cuisine, as long as I have the recipe.”

Lu Feiran laughed, bending over for a good while, finding Lance’s claim amusing. He knew Lance could bake Western pastries, but cooking all dishes was too exaggerated, wasn’t it?

However, Lance’s “theoretically” was practically factual. When he was on the island, Lance had thoroughly studied recipes from various countries, constantly changing the menu to coax himself into eating every day.

The two laughed and bantered until they were almost done shopping. Lance also gained a more comprehensive understanding of Lu Feiran’s preferences.

“Feiran?”

A clear voice sounded behind them. It was Jin Zhan.

This area was far from the Qiong Zhu Gallery, so Lu Feiran was surprised: “Jin Zhan? Do you live nearby?”

Jin Zhan walked closer. Although he greeted Lu Feiran, his gaze dared not linger on Lance.

Jin Zhan had seen someone with a similar back to Lu Feiran in the supermarket and followed. The first time Lu Feiran came to the Qiong Zhu Gallery, this man was by his side, and he still was.

The man’s gaze was very gentle, focused entirely on Lu Feiran, with a smile in the corners of his eyes, yet the moment he looked at Jin Zhan, his eyes suddenly turned cold, like ice scraping against him.

Jin Zhan felt a sense of fear for some reason. How could a person have such a dual personality? Furthermore… he had heard from Lu Xingli about Zhai Qiance’s recent activities, learning that his “lover” was about to marry the young master of the DeWitt family.

And the DeWitt young master was tall, handsome, with platinum-blond hair and emerald-green eyes.

This perfectly matched the features of the man in front of him.

Besides fear, Jin Zhan instinctively developed hostility toward him.

What was the relationship between a man who was about to get married and Lu Feiran, with whom he was so intimate?

“Jin Zhan? Jin Zhan?”

Jin Zhan snapped back, a smile returning to his face: “My university advisor lives nearby. I wanted to buy some fruit and gifts to visit him.”

“You decided to continue studying?” Lu Feiran was delighted.

“Yes, I’m currently preparing the application materials and will talk to my advisor. Hopefully, I can start school by next autumn.”

Jin Zhan had inadvertently mentioned to Lu Feiran that if he hadn’t taken over his lover’s gallery, he would have preferred to pursue advanced studies in art.

In the days immediately following Lu Xingli’s intrusion into his life, Jin Zhan looked like his soul had been sucked out, half-dead. Today, he was radiant and in high spirits.

“You’re not keeping the gallery?”

“No, I’m giving it back to him!”

“Go for it, great artist! Once you become famous, the painting you did for me will be worth a fortune.”

The two exchanged a few laughs. Lu Feiran unintentionally caught Lance’s darkening gaze, so he quickly ended the conversation and temporarily parted ways with Jin Zhan.

Jin Zhan stood at a distance and looked back at Lu Feiran again. With his back to them, he finally dared to fix his gaze on Lance.

So strange, truly so strange…

“I want extra time,” Lance said, bending slightly and looking down at Lu Feiran. The corner of his mouth, which was usually slightly raised, was now slightly turned down, making him look unhappy and a little wronged.

Lu Feiran chuckled. He was starting to find Lance cute.

He couldn’t resist raising his hands to touch Lance’s mouth, pressing both index fingers up slightly, forcibly creating a big smile on Lance’s face, which made him laugh too.

“As you wish. You can have as much extra time as you want, okay?”

At this moment, Lance was being as willful as he had been when playing in the rain after drinking too much, making Lu Feiran want to indulge him.

Lance’s mouth was red from the squeeze. Lu Feiran gently rubbed it, but his fingertips didn’t linger for too long. He curled his slender fingers into his palm and turned to look at other products.

Back at the apartment, Lu Feiran realized he had underestimated Lance. He was truly too skilled, far surpassing a Michelin chef.

“Hungry?” Lance turned and saw Lu Feiran following him like a little tail.

“Yeah, I want to eat something to tide me over first. I need to eat now.” Lu Feiran had to eat when it was time. He pouted and stood next to Lance, his eyes darting around, searching for something in the kitchen that could be popped into his mouth immediately.

The dishes Lu Feiran ordered were very simple, even including barbecue. He had already figured that if Lance couldn’t cook it, they could just pour oil into a frying pan and eat the seared meat; no need for anything fancy.

Of course, Lance didn’t make a dish as rudimentary as barbecue. He scooped the shrimp out of the pot, ran them under cold water, and started peeling them.

“Very hungry? It won’t taste very good right now.”

Lu Feiran didn’t tell Lance about his stomach ache; otherwise, Lance would feel apologetic again.

He didn’t owe him anything. Lu Feiran didn’t like hearing Lance apologize. Such a noble person shouldn’t have to apologize to anyone.

Lu Feiran nodded and opened his mouth, trying to take the fresh, plump shrimp meat with his lips.

Lance raised his arm an inch, just enough for Lu Feiran to miss.

He saw Lu Feiran’s wet tongue darting out between lips more gorgeous than a rose, flicking upwards, leaving a watery sheen on his full philtrum. Lance was momentarily stunned, and in the blink of an eye, the shrimp was snatched by Lu Feiran.

Lu Feiran, in his slippers, immediately ran out. Lance turned the heat down, stopping his movements.

The wet sensation of being licked by a tongue still lingered on his fingertip. The watery sheen on his fingertip reflected the same luster as the moisture on Lu Feiran’s lips.

Lance looked at the pad of his index finger, the smile fading from his face. He opened his mouth, took the fingertip into his mouth, and savored the taste that wasn’t his own.

It was sweet.

One dish after another was placed on the table. Lu Feiran couldn’t help but write a five-hundred-word essay on the spot for each dish, praising Lance to the high heavens.

Eating with relatives and friends was the only time it felt like home. Usually, Lu Feiran ate alone, occasionally accompanied by Zhou Zihua. Now, with Lance too, his heart was easily filled with happiness.

A drop of water fell onto the calm lake surface, causing ripples. Looking up, it turned out to be a fine spring rain. The silver-thread-like rain kept Lu Feiran’s heart gently swaying.

He got Lance’s permission, took a photo, and sent it to Zhou Zihua. Zhou Zihua, like a number one fan concerned about his idol, kept pressing Lu Feiran about whose house he was at and whose food he was eating.

Lu Feiran just smiled, his mouth full of food, suppressing the strong desire to share, and replied: [I won’t tell you. Guess.]

Lance opened his phone. The portrait of Lu Feiran playing the violin still rested in his photo album. The Lu Feiran in the painting stood in an empty space, yet it made people imagine him standing at the center of a stage, with lights and people’s admiring gazes converging on him.

Lance wondered, How could Jin Zhan paint this? Did he ever see Lu Feiran play the violin?

Watching Lu Feiran giggle foolishly at his phone, an indescribable annoyance rose in Lance’s heart.

When Lu Feiran put down his cutlery, Lance took out a sizable box and placed it on the other side of the dining table.

Lu Feiran glanced at the box a few times, his eyes blinking rapidly, then looked at Lance. His throat tightened, and his fingertips felt numb, as if a weak current flowed through every tendon.

He drew his gaze back, staring at the plate in front of him, pretending he hadn’t finished eating, picking up his chopsticks, putting them down, repeating this restlessly. Finally, he took a deep breath and met Lance’s smiling eyes.

“What is this?”

Lance felt Lu Feiran was like a small animal chasing its tail. He sharply tapped the dining table with his right knuckle, making a crisp sound to regain his focus.

“I want to listen to some music. Can you indulge me?”

The siren-like voice was tempting Lu Feiran to open the box. He didn’t know how he managed to stand up and walk over.

Inside the box was a dark brown, old violin. The entire body was glossy and shiny, clearly indicating meticulous care, while the wood grain showcased the accumulation of time.

Lu Feiran’s soul was almost sucked away by the violin. He couldn’t wait to wipe his hands clean, pick up the violin, and place it on his shoulder…

The sound of the violin was incredibly pure and clear. The vibration and resonance were very comfortable, unlike ordinary violins. Lu Feiran was astonished by the instrument. He couldn’t resist playing two more passages, confirming that this was a historically significant, famous violin.

A Stradivarius?

“Norn—”

Lu Feiran hadn’t said anything before Lance interrupted him: “Why don’t you continue?”

Lu Feiran placed the violin back in the box, his gaze lingering on the strings for a moment, then closed the lid: “What is this?”

Lance leaned back in his chair, a casual smile on his lips. He subtly lifted a finger, signaling Lu Feiran not to put the violin away: “I just wanted to listen to music.”

Lu Feiran thought he was joking: “How did you buy it? How much was it?”

“I don’t quite remember. Over ten million US dollars?” Lance’s gaze drifted to the left, seemingly in thought, but quickly returned to Lu Feiran. “Is it bad? I don’t understand violins; I just bid casually.”

In fact, he had kept this violin in mind ever since hearing Lu Feiran’s conversation with Zhai Qiance.

It’s just a violin as a birthday gift. Why be so hesitant and evasive about it?

Lu Feiran felt momentarily suffocated. He thought that even during the Lu family’s peak a few years ago, they were only so-so. No matter how much they splurged, it couldn’t compare to the DeWitt family’s extravagant spending.

He didn’t understand the violin, couldn’t play the violin, yet he bought one.

“What’s wrong, Feiran?” Lance looked at him blankly. “If you don’t like it, I’ll have someone buy another one. Can you help me choose?”

“Why buy it? Is it a gift for me…” Lu Feiran almost bit his tongue.

“No,” Lance denied flatly. “I just want to listen to music. Feiran, if you want to play the violin, come over. I’d love to hear it.”

He spoke of a ten-million-dollar violin as if it were a Bluetooth speaker.

But thankfully, Lance said it wasn’t a gift, which relieved Lu Feiran.

Lu Feiran only had his stock dividends and a portion of his remaining inheritance. While unattainable for ordinary people, he was relatively financially constrained compared to those in his own circle.

If Lance were to give him such an expensive gift, it would put him in an awkward position.

Zhai Qiance had promised him the violin for three years but never intended to actually buy it.

The warm airflow in the room flushed Lu Feiran’s ear tips red. The sweet satiety in his stomach fostered a reckless courage. Looking at Lance’s face, which was more serene than an angel, Lu Feiran felt an intense reluctance to leave.