Fell Deeply In Love With My Ex-Husband's Fiancé - Chapter 25

Chapter 25: Blue and Green

If a name is a curse, then Lance…

Zhou Zihua gave the two nearby sanitation workers a thousand yuan each, asking them to help clean up, and then escorted Lu Feiran into the car, seating him once again in the sea of flowers.

The fancy car carried the beauty to a bar Zhou Zihua frequented. A waiter in a black and white uniform, with a handsome face and an approachable smile, leaned slightly and led the two toward a private room.

This was Lu Feiran’s first time here. There was no noisy music or chaotic dance floor, which made him a little uneasy. He felt the bar was overly proper, not the style they used to frequent.

“You come here often?” Lu Feiran asked.

Zhou Zihua smiled sheepishly: “I’ve been here twice, both times with my cousin and his friends, but not on my own. Don’t worry, even though you’re divorced, I wouldn’t take you anywhere illegal. You’ll see for yourself.”

Zhou Zihua’s cousin was extremely well-connected and had agreed to help them arrange people in Germany to find Ms. Du, who had bought the fake painting. He recently said he had a lead and was following up on it.

Although Lu Feiran hadn’t met him many times, he always admired this cousin. He could personally manage all the family business on the front lines and secretly develop a valuable network of high-quality contacts; he was no ordinary person.

If this was the kind of place he liked to come to, it wasn’t surprising. His preferences had always been on the elegant side.

Lu Feiran ordered a drink and asked the waiter to prepare hot porridge and medicine for himself. He told Zhou Zihua to give them some private time and to call people in later.

Zhou Zihua was a little worried: “There are soft drinks here. I called you over to relax, not to drink.”

Lu Feiran made a custom drink for himself, putting handfuls of mint leaves into the glass and squeezing in some tomato juice. He smiled, “It’s okay. Just this once. If it hurts, it hurts. It’s painful but happy.”

Lu Feiran always believed in living for the moment, regardless of the consequences, living as if there were no tomorrow.

Zhou Zihua had expected that after the divorce, Lu Feiran’s life would get back on track, with someone loving him, caring for him, and holding him back when he acted recklessly.

Taking advantage of Zhou Zihua’s rare silence, Lu Feiran asked, “What made you think of finding me a Russian?”

Zhou Zihua said, “Not Russian, but blond hair. I remember! You said when you were little that you liked people with blond hair.”

Lu Feiran was stunned for a moment. He quickly recalled his past, trying to clear every corner of his memory. Convinced there was no such memory, Lu Feiran immediately denied it: “How is that possible?”

“You don’t remember. You went to the DeWitt family with your mother when you were little,” Zhou Zihua said. “For a week after coming back, you kept asking me why we didn’t have blond hair.”

“Is that so…”

Lu Feiran shook his head. He remembered seeing people from the DeWitt family before he was five, but he had absolutely no recollection of the subsequent conversation with Zhou Zihua.

That was Norn DeWitt’s one-hundred-day celebration. There were many guests, warmly sending blessings to Mrs. DeWitt and Norn.

Lu Feiran followed his mother to see Norn. The tiny baby slept in a cradle. When Lu Feiran played with him, the baby opened his blue, glass-bead-like eyes and smiled at him.

Lu Feiran smiled too, but when he looked up, he saw a boy about ten years old standing in a corner far from the crowd. He was wearing a white sailor-collar shirt, dark blue shorts, and a pair of shiny, round-toed black leather shoes. He was hidden in the shadow of the corner, out of place, looking at the joyous crowd with a puzzled expression.

Looking at that boy, Lu Feiran suddenly seemed to stop hearing any sound. The surrounding noise receded like a tide, vanishing without a trace. His eyes, like black grapes, could only see that boy.

Lu Feiran at the time didn’t understand the feeling in his heart, but recalling it now, he knew he was frightened by the coldness radiating from that person.

He looked like a non-human species, observing human behavior, feeling confused and disdainful.

That person should have been Norn’s uncle, Lance DeWitt, rumored to have been born with a mental illness and unable to integrate into normal society.

Unknowingly, most of the alcohol had been consumed. Lu Feiran had no intention of sipping. Alcohol could magnify happiness, and he wanted extreme happiness today.

Memories continued to replay unconsciously before his eyes. Lu Feiran thought of Norn’s appearance in his memory and laughed aloud. Norn was such a small baby back then. Now he was so grown up, and his eyes…

Wait, were Norn’s eyes blue?

The memory, which had been clear moments ago, suddenly turned into a faded watercolor painting soaked in rain. No matter how Lu Feiran tried to preserve it, it was futile. The memory gradually blurred. Norn’s eyes changed from blue to green, and from green to gray, no longer discernible in their original appearance.

Lu Feiran suddenly felt a headache. He pressed his temple, made himself another custom drink, and stopped trying to recall the memory.

Zhou Zihua let the people in, and the sound of footsteps gradually approached.

Lu Feiran lowered his eyes and saw the person’s leather shoes stop beside his feet.

The male model, Frank, considered himself experienced with all kinds of clients, but he had to admit he had never met a Mr. Lu like this.

Zhou Zihua tried to take the wine glass from Lu Feiran’s hand, but it was tightly clenched. Not wanting to use force on Lu Feiran, he said to Frank: “Please keep Mr. Lu from drinking any more alcohol today. Coax him to drink some juice or soft drinks. If you do well and make him happy, you can name your own price for the tip.”

Clients mostly ordered wine, and companions earned commission by coaxing them to open expensive bottles. There was no commission for juice.

Frank was reluctant, afraid the tip Zhou Zihua promised was an empty check, but he still sat down next to Lu Feiran. Accompanying a client like this was still extremely profitable, even without selling wine.

Lu Feiran’s jade-bamboo-like fingers scratched his black hair. He tilted his head to look at the person sitting next to him. The perfect level of tipsiness made his eyes lose some of their lively luster. His eyelids were half-lowered. He casually glanced over, but was stunned for a moment.

Blond hair, green eyes, white skin. Even sitting down, it was obvious Frank was tall.

Lu Feiran was momentarily in a daze, but a second look revealed the difference between him and that person.

Lance’s hair was light gold, not golden brown. His hair should be smoother and more lustrous. The man in front of him, though tall, was too thin. His shoulders weren’t broad enough, and his back didn’t look strong enough. He certainly wouldn’t feel firmly locked in place when hugged.

Ah, what am I thinking?

Having not consumed alcohol so casually for a long time, Lu Feiran’s thoughts drifted, uncontrollably running wild with imagination.

“My name is Frank, sir.” Frank’s voice wasn’t clear and melodious. Perhaps due to drinking daily, a noticeable hoarseness was present. “What are you confused about? You can tell me, but please drink less alcohol.”

He tentatively took the wine glass from Lu Feiran’s hand and was surprised that Lu Feiran let him take the drink without struggling.

Confused? Lu Feiran held the word on his lips, unable to stop thinking. What was he confused about? The color of the eyes or something else?

This question was difficult, and Lu Feiran couldn’t find an answer.

“I’m confused about whether you really care about me or if you’re just trying to get a tip?” Lu Feiran joked lightly.

Frank was very upfront and didn’t take offense: “I get the tip, and you alleviate your confusion. It’s a win-win.”

Everything has a purpose. There is no unconditional care or love. Frank stated his purpose clearly, and Lu Feiran was satisfied with the answer.

Frank was undoubtedly a handsome man, smooth yet perceptive.

Lu Feiran appreciated Frank’s gentleness and chatted with him, but the deep-seated question in his heart remained unanswered, so he temporarily set it aside.

People who came here often liked to hire companions, which might be more effective for some than seeing a professional psychological counselor.

Lu Feiran finally understood Zhou Zihua’s intention.

To avoid embarrassing Frank, Lu Feiran took the orange juice he offered and drank it. One sip of orange juice, one sip of alcohol, and the liquor went straight to his head. He finally stopped when he felt discomfort in his stomach.

Zhou Zihua saw that the two were getting along well, so he sat far away, tucked into a corner, playing on his phone. There was no way he would leave Lu Feiran alone here and walk away.

Unexpectedly, Lu Feiran suddenly wanted to leave. Zhou Zihua stood up to support Lu Feiran, his tone not very happy: “Did you mix the juice with alcohol?”

Lu Feiran burst into a toothy laugh: “Give him a tip. He worked very hard.”

Zhou Zihua was not entirely satisfied but paid the bill as Lu Feiran requested. He put Lu Feiran into the car. Lu Feiran insisted on holding a large bouquet of roses, saying he was going to give them to someone.

Give them to someone? Who? Zhou Zihua only assumed he was talking nonsense because of the alcohol.

Buckling Lu Feiran’s seatbelt, Zhou Zihua said with some unease: “I’m sorry, Ranran. I feel like I shouldn’t have brought you here. Your stomach is bothering you again today.”

“It’s nothing… nothing… I’m fine, I like it very much, I’m very happy…” Lu Feiran replied with his eyes closed.

“Come stay at my place,” Zhou Zihua wanted to stay and take care of Lu Feiran.

“No, no… someone is waiting for me. If I don’t go back, he’ll be unhappy.” Lu Feiran covered his face, missing Zhou Zihua’s shocked expression.

Lu Feiran had a hookup? Seamless transition, excellent!

But Zhou Zihua didn’t know the person. He insisted on taking Lu Feiran home, trying every way to persuade him: “Haven’t you been staying in a hotel lately? It’s too late to suddenly show up now. Go tomorrow.”

Lu Feiran didn’t know why Zhou Zihua suddenly adopted the manner of a polite parent. The alcohol made him speak the truth: “No. I’ve been staying at his place recently.”

“…” Zhou Zihua was speechless. Then why did he hide this from him this afternoon!

But Zhou Zihua arrived at an inconvenient time. Lance had not yet returned home, so he couldn’t see who the “fox spirit” was. He dropped Lu Feiran off, sat for a while, and then left.

He hadn’t expected the “fox spirit” to live in such a core, high-value area. This apartment was the heart of the city, a large flat overlooking the entire area—something money couldn’t necessarily buy.

For example, Lu Feiran’s ex-husband couldn’t buy it.

The roses were carried in by the two of them, clustered together near the entrance.

Lu Feiran used his last bit of strength to get hot water. His blurred vision made him misjudge where to put the cup, and the hot water spilled onto the back of his hand, instantly sobering him up.

The water wasn’t particularly hot. Lu Feiran ignored the burn on the back of his hand, quickly took his medicine, and securely placed the bag containing the divorce certificate into a locked cabinet in the room.

Having done all this, he squatted on the floor next to the cabinet, resting his forehead against it, continuing to ponder the things that confused him tonight.

No one gives unconditionally to others. Even if someone is naturally good, an angel, they always want to gain something.

If he truly wanted nothing, then Lu Feiran would give it to him.

A comfortable warmth emanated from the floor, bringing on drowsiness. Lu Feiran curled up and fell asleep on the floor.

He didn’t know how long passed. In a daze, he felt someone pick him up.

The person’s arms were strong, easily lifting him. Lu Feiran instinctively hooked his arms around the person’s neck and forced his eyes open. It was the familiar blond hair and green eyes.

Lu Feiran was not fully conscious and couldn’t distinguish where he was. He thought he hadn’t left the bar yet.

He let out a small whimper in his throat, his tone accusatory: “Frank, don’t hug me.”

The arms stiffened. Then, veins bulged on the back of the hands, extending up the forearms and disappearing into the muscle.

“Frank?” Lance’s voice was devoid of emotion.

Lu Feiran’s eyes widened momentarily as he looked up at Lance, recognized the person holding him, and relaxed: “Norn, it’s you.”

Lance’s face was deeply shadowed. If a name was a curse, then he was destined to be trapped by this eternally wrong incantation.