Fell Deeply In Love With My Ex-Husband's Fiancé - Chapter 43

Chapter 43: Returning to the Past: Lance came specifically to pick up Lu Feiran for dinner…

Lance came specifically to pick up Lu Feiran for dinner, and natural ingredients were already fully stocked.

After placing Lu Feiran on the sofa, Lance poured him juice and asked him to wait. He smiled faintly, noting that aside from his slightly red eyes, Lu Feiran showed almost no sign of having cried recently.

Lu Feiran’s expression was calm. He quietly drank his juice and looked for a movie, his gaze drifting everywhere except Lance’s face.

Lance couldn’t tell if the feeling in his heart was relief or bitterness, but either way, Lu Feiran was still by his side, which was a good thing. Everything could be resolved.

Since Lu Feiran didn’t bring it up again, Lance was happy to pretend that nothing had happened.

During dinner, Lu Feiran remained silent, seeming determined not to speak to Lance.

He ate slowly, as if immersed in his own world. Lance followed his gaze for a long time but couldn’t meet his eyes.

Suddenly, Lu Feiran paused. He noticed a distinct, fresh cut on the inner side of Lance’s finger. It had been simply treated, but the ugly gash was exposed to the air, and the entire finger was twitching slightly.

Lu Feiran’s heart tightened. He put down his chopsticks: “How am I supposed to eat like this? Go bandage it properly and then come back.”

“Won’t you help me?” Lance’s voice was aggrieved and pitiful. “I was distracted because we argued, that’s why I cut my hand.”

Lu Feiran shrugged, lowered his head, and continued eating: “Don’t look at me, I only have one hand.”

“Your one hand, plus my one hand, makes two.”

“Don’t bother bandaging it. Just let it get infected and die, okay?” Lu Feiran finished eating, put down his chopsticks, and turned to leave.

The gaze behind him was like a shadow. If he didn’t turn back, it would follow him forever, sticky and hot, making it impossible for Lu Feiran to ignore.

He abruptly slipped into the guest bedroom and locked himself in.

This was the room he should be staying in. He didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as Lance anymore. Hugging, kissing, and making love should all stop.

Lu Feiran contacted the construction team, offered generous payment, and requested the workers to work in shifts day and night so he could move back as soon as possible.

Fortunately, Luyuan was a detached villa surrounded by woods, quiet and peaceful, so round-the-clock construction wouldn’t disturb anyone else.

After arranging the renovation, Lu Feiran felt a wave of sleepiness. Perhaps the argument had drained too much mental energy, or perhaps he was simply drowsy after eating. Lu Feiran planned to take a nap.

But alone, he couldn’t put his pajama sleeves on. He only changed into pants and, with his upper body bare, burrowed into the soft quilt.

The cast would be removed in two weeks. He would be fine alone then.

…

Lu Feiran dreamed of the time when his mother was still alive. He had a good memory, and his young mother’s face was still clearly etched in his mind.

He greatly resembled his mother but not much like Lu Liye. His lively and agile personality was also completely opposite to the reserved Lu Liye.

His mother gave Lu Feiran his first violin and personally taught him to read music and play. After his mother passed away, Lu Liye didn’t interfere with his interests, and his maternal grandmother took over, finding the best teachers to nurture him for over a decade.

When the music played, it was as if his mother was standing right behind him, watching him play.

But he was forced by Lu Liye to give up the violin.

Lu Feiran frowned deeply, seemingly trapped in boundless pain. He curled up, his slender fingers clenching the bedsheet, veins bulging on the back of his hand, nearly ripping the sheet apart.

He saw all his violins smashed in front of him. His father personally crushed his last shred of fantasy. Losing his mother, then losing his grandmother, he had lost all love. He should have known long ago.

The wood splinters from the shattered violin body pricked Lu Feiran’s eyes, making him bleed tears, yet he stubbornly stared at the broken violins, as if focusing on them could restore them.

A warm breeze blew, and the violin remnants floated away like pieces of paper. Then the scene shifted. He stood in another familiar place. In front of him was an exciting box, containing a “Stradivarius.”

Lu Feiran’s grip on the bedsheet loosened. He was just breathing lightly. Sweat that had accumulated on his forehead dripped down from his hair and was gently wiped away by another hand.

Lance had appeared in Lu Feiran’s room at some point. Although it was daytime, the thick blackout curtains were tightly drawn, making the entire room very dim.

The pale, handsome, tall man stood by the window, bending over like a hovering ghost, watching Lu Feiran quietly with a gentle smile.

He looked at Lu Feiran’s hand, hoping it wasn’t clenching the bedsheet but intertwined with his own. He watched Lu Feiran’s slightly open, hot mouth, hoping those gasps were breathed onto him.

Lance slightly lifted the quilt. Lu Feiran’s bare back was covered in fine sweat.

Lance shook his head with a mixture of doting and helplessness. He fetched a clean towel and meticulously wiped Lu Feiran’s body clean.

Lu Feiran’s skin was equally fair, a healthy, pearly white, like a pearl or lamb’s fleece, smooth and inviting.

Lance’s eyes were practically glued to it, wanting to lick every inch of Lu Feiran’s exposed skin, but he didn’t. Just the effort of forcing himself to gently wipe his lover’s sweaty back was enough to drive him mad.

He didn’t want to disturb Lu Feiran’s dream. For the first time, he wasn’t looking forward to Lu Feiran waking up and looking at him.

The indifferent, disdainful eyes and the on-and-off attitude made Lance’s heart ache as if it were splitting.

Lance couldn’t stand it anymore, but Lu Feiran had decided not to return to the way things were.

In the dream, Lu Feiran picked up the “Stradivarius” and played a Canon, a piece mastered by beginners. The audience burst into applause. Countless flowers and compliments rushed toward him. Lu Feiran bowed to the audience, walking closer to the seats under the spotlight, only to find there was only one person in the audience.

Only Lance.

Lu Feiran felt humiliated and angry, believing Lance was deliberately making fun of him. He didn’t even want Lance’s sincere applause and turned to run.

But his feet felt like they were filled with lead, unable to move a single step. He threw the bouquet behind him. The soft petals rained down on his body, burning him like sparks.

The dream collapsed. Lu Feiran suddenly woke up, his dark pupils anxiously darting around. He felt a soft sensation on his shoulder and back, like lips and tongue.

Lu Feiran moved. He felt a foreign object in his mouth, as if something was stuffed inside, burrowing toward his throat, almost touching his pharynx. This triggered waves of dry retching, and tears spilled from the corners of his eyes.

Instinctively, he tried to lean back, only to find a wall of steel behind him, preventing any movement. Iron-vice arms were clamped tightly around his waist, threatening to snap it.

The suffocating sensation of being completely immobilized made the base of Lu Feiran’s tongue taste bitter. He wanted to close his mouth, but saliva kept drooling from the corners of his lips. He couldn’t even shake his head, only emitting pitiful “ooh-ooh” sounds.

The dim environment and the person who seemed deaf to his pleas and cries plunged Lu Feiran into a familiar helplessness. He could only tuck his knees, bringing them as close to his chest as possible, seeking a tiny measure of security in a fetal position.

But the person behind him seemed to anticipate his move, restraining his legs as well. Powerful thighs clamped Lu Feiran’s legs between them, leaving him unable to move.

Lu Feiran was like a human pillow, completely stripped of the freedom to move.

Lu Feiran’s teeth chattered, constantly knocking against the object in his mouth, the whining sound continuing in his throat. Lance enjoyed the taste, his fingertip intertwining with Lu Feiran’s tongue base. Only after he was satisfied did he stop sucking on Lu Feiran’s back neck: “Ranran, tell me, why are you sleeping in this room?”

In the dim light, Lu Feiran watched Lance’s long fingers reluctantly withdraw from his mouth. The ugly cut looked even more horrifying, making him unable to look. He immediately closed his eyes.

“I’ll sleep wherever I want!” Lu Feiran nearly bit his tongue. “Are you sick? Shoving your finger in my mouth?”

“Lick it for me, and it will heal faster.”

Lu Feiran rolled his eyes, offering Lance only the back of his head.

“Ranran, you weren’t like this before,” Lance accused, his eyes lowered, showing no remorse for his recent actions. “You used to hate seeing me injured.”

He naturally released the arms and legs pressing against Lu Feiran. Lu Feiran quickly got up, his delicate back exposed to the air. He didn’t see the string of red kiss marks on his back, like plums blooming on snow.

The marks trailed upwards from his tailbone, deepening as they went, forming a continuous patch at the base of his neck.

Lu Feiran touched his neck, feeling a stinging heat there, but he didn’t know why.

He frowned, looking at Lance’s seemingly heartbroken face. His heart clenched, but then he suddenly wondered: Was Lance truly sad? Was Lance genuinely hurt by his coldness?

Biting his lower lip, and with a testing heart, Lu Feiran slowly and tentatively raised his hand toward Lance’s chin.

He saw Lance’s gaze subtly follow his fingertips. Just as Lu Feiran was about to touch him, his lips curved upward. The sadness in his eyes vanished, replaced by the satisfied excitement of one who had succeeded.

It felt like something had clenched Lu Feiran’s heart. He immediately withdrew his hand, putting it behind his back.

Lance looked up, devoid of any smile. He looked like a towering snowy mountain after sunset; without the sun’s light, the warmth on the white snow disappeared, and the empty, sharp coldness became more pronounced.

So unfamiliar.

Yes, that’s right. The softness, warmth, and goodwill Lance displayed were all fake personas he deliberately showed to others.

“Why stop?” Lance stared at Lu Feiran’s stiff expression.

Lu Feiran rubbed the corner of his eye, looking elsewhere, saying heartlessly and firmly: “You weren’t like this before either. Go back to the way you were, or we can’t continue.”

While Lance’s attitude had changed and reversed several times, his desire for control had only become stronger without any doubt, making it very difficult for Lu Feiran to accept.

Being required to carry a location tracker, being found immediately after leaving for a short time, being semi-forced home, and even having his locked room forcibly entered.

He even shoved the finger he didn’t want bandaged directly into his mouth.

Lu Feiran couldn’t stand this. His nature was free-spirited and loved freedom. He was never one to be managed, and no one could force him like this.

Once the window of deception was broken, the crack would only deepen, and Lance’s true self would be fully exposed.

Lu Feiran asked himself, he simply couldn’t accept this. If Lance pushed him too far, even if Lance knelt down and begged him, he wouldn’t forgive him.

Like a giant wave, Lu Feiran was almost crushed by his own sudden, strange thought.

He had actually been giving Lance chances, waiting for Lance to find the key to turn things around, waiting for Lance to surrender so he could smoothly achieve a Happy Ending.

Lu Feiran sneered, working his uncomfortable neck. He kept rubbing the back of his neck, his sharp gaze directed back at Lance, without any mercy, practically spelling it out: “First, give me freedom of movement. Don’t follow me, and don’t check my location.”

Just as Lance was about to speak, Lu Feiran quickly and clearly interrupted: “Don’t say ‘danger.’ You won’t let me fall into danger again, will you? You’ve already arranged everything. I am safe.”

Like a black cat walking smoothly along a narrow wall with its tail raised in the moonlight, Lu Feiran was composed, confidently bordering on arrogance.

It was this expression that nearly knocked Lance dizzy. He cupped Lu Feiran’s face, fulfilling his wish to have Lu Feiran’s gaze linger on him again.

Leaning his forehead against Lu Feiran’s, he chuckled lightly and kissed his lover’s nose tip again. Lance’s voice was sticky and wet, filled with feigned grievance: “Ranran, you are so smart. You’re right. You can do whatever you want. Just come back after you’re done, okay?”

The nose kiss represented a light, restrained desire, full of cherishing and affection, perfectly aligning with the persona Lance had previously shown Lu Feiran, as if he wasn’t the one who desperately wanted Lu Feiran to devour his finger tonight.

The threats Lu Feiran had previously faced were now irrelevant. From now on, Lu Feiran only needed to face Lance.

“I’ve said the first point. What about the next?”

“The next is sincerity. I’ve already told you.”

Hearing this, Lance let out a low laugh. He could never be sincere, but he was happy to humor Lu Feiran.

“Alright, I’ll listen to you.”

“Schedule a time. Take me back to your house. Shouldn’t we meet your parents?” Lu Feiran deliberately proposed a radical suggestion.

As expected, Lance’s smile faded, and the topic ended.