Fell Deeply In Love With My Ex-Husband's Fiancé - Chapter 49

Chapter 49: Sophistry: Lance was coaxing him like a child. If Lu Feiran had truly been an unsuspecting…

Lu Feiran called out to Lance many times from the back seat but received no response.

Realizing Lance intended to feign ignorance completely, he angrily started kicking the back of the front seat.

What pain, sadness, sorrow, and tears? They were all crocodile tears! This person never reflects on his own mistakes. He only looks for ways to achieve his goals and doesn’t care about anyone else’s feelings!

I actually felt a momentary pang of sympathy. I actually softened toward a cold-blooded animal!

Thump, thump, thump. The seatback rattled fiercely from the kicks.

However, Lu Feiran’s movements didn’t prevent Lance from driving steadily and quickly. They continued to approach Lance’s apartment. Lu Feiran grew increasingly anxious. Amidst his frantic movements, his down jacket was kicked off the seat, and his phone fell out.

The screen lit up for half a minute, displaying many messages and missed calls from Jin Zhan.

Lu Feiran paused. The thought of asking for help lasted only half a second before he dismissed it.

How could Jin Zhan help him?

Coincidentally, the phone vibrated at that moment—Jin Zhan was calling again.

Lu Feiran’s attempts to rile Lance stopped. The car immediately went silent, and the buzzing vibration of the incoming call reached Lance’s ears.

Lance said, “It must be Jin Zhan.”

Lu Feiran glanced at him, unwilling to answer.

Lance didn’t care. The satisfaction of having bound Lu Feiran and brought him home already overshadowed all his pain: “Answer it.”

The buzzing continued for thirty seconds before falling silent, exhausted.

Anger and disdain flashed in Lu Feiran’s eyes: “Answer the phone and say what? Say I’m about to be imprisoned by you, tell Jin Zhan to call the police and bring them to your house to arrest you?”

Lance caught certain words, seemingly confused: “Ranran, why do you say ‘my house’? It’s our home. I won’t imprison you or restrict you. If you want to call the police, you can do it yourself.”

His fingernails dug into his palm, seemingly breaking the thin skin, causing a slight sting.

Easy to say, hard to do. Not restricting him? If he wasn’t restricting him, why did he tie him up?

He was pretending to be generous and easygoing, but he wasn’t.

The fact that he could so brazenly pretend not to hear the word “break up” indicated that Lance would never easily allow him to act recklessly again.

The illuminated phone screen was like a trap, the hook baited and ready, waiting for a foolish fish to bite. Lu Feiran didn’t dare answer the call.

What should I do? Can we sit down and talk when we get back? And what did he mean about painting…?

Lu Feiran was deep in thought. Unknowingly, the car stopped, having reached the familiar underground garage.

The car door opened. Lance untied the belt constraining Lu Feiran’s right hand. In the slightly brighter light, he saw the overlapping red marks, old and new, on his wrist.

The belt was only an inch wide. The indentations crisscrossed like a spiderweb.

Lance gently massaged Lu Feiran’s wrist. His warm palm stroked the protruding wrist bone, tracing upward along the smooth, delicate skin of his forearm. The corner of his mouth curved upward, but he suddenly met Lu Feiran’s cold eyes.

The gentle, warm smile blossomed in Lu Feiran’s pupils. Lu Feiran knew Lance had adjusted his demeanor and was now pretending again.

He only called him “Darling” when his emotions fluctuated wildly. The rest of the time, he called him “Ranran.”

Gentle kisses fell repeatedly on his wrist. Lance was entirely unfazed by how Lu Feiran looked at him. As long as he could see his own reflection in Lu Feiran’s eyes, he was excited enough to die.

He leaned over under Lu Feiran’s gaze, helped him put on his down jacket, picked up his slender lover with one hand, and grabbed his shoes with the other. Just then, he heard the person in his arms say, “I hate you.”

“No, you like me. You love me. You just won’t admit it.”

Lance replied composedly, carrying Lu Feiran into the elevator.

The pristine mirror inside the elevator clearly showed their posture to Lu Feiran. Only then did Lu Feiran realize he had a strange sense of docility while in Lance’s arms.

He hurriedly lowered his eyes, avoiding the sight of his own distress, and denied Lance repeatedly: “Nonsense, I don’t love you.”

“Wrong, Ranran,” Lance said. “You only love me. Should I prove it to you?”

Inside the apartment, Lance still showed no intention of putting Lu Feiran down. He placed the shoes down with his left hand, then hugged Lu Feiran tightly with both arms, carrying him into the art studio.

The constant temperature system was running, maintaining a comfortable temperature and humidity where only a single layer of clothing was needed.

The collar of the down jacket was opened, revealing the shirt collar stained with red liquor. Lance glanced at the stained shirt, reached out to adjust the collar, and said: “For instance, you tried every possible means to make me jealous, but you only chose Jin Zhan to draw you. That’s enough to prove you love me.”

Lu Feiran let out a dismissive snort.

Lance spoke like a teacher patiently guiding a student who couldn’t solve a problem: “You deliberately didn’t answer the phone to make me anxious. You guessed I would come looking for you, so you found someone else who has feelings for you. Ranran, you have always been smart, but I know all of this is false. You only love me.”

Being described as an unfaithful person who frequented the pleasure quarters, heartless and unjust, yet being contradictorily praised, made Lu Feiran extremely unhappy. It was as if everything he did was, in Lance’s eyes, just the antics of an ignorant child.

It seemed to lack any real impact.

Lu Feiran eyed him dismissively: “Is that so? Then why did you go crazy?”

Lance’s smile widened: “A lover cheating, I should indeed go crazy. You wanted to see it, so I went crazy for you.”

Lu Feiran turned his face away and rolled his eyes.

He knew very well that Lance had been successfully provoked, pushed to the brink of collapse. It was only because of his momentary kindness that Lance hadn’t been utterly destroyed.

Yet, Lance was now pretending he hadn’t fallen for it at all, and he was doing so with convincing conviction.

Lance continued his slow lecture: “Ranran, what you’re doing is wrong. You grabbed hold of my weakness and deliberately poked at my pain, making me sad and upset. You shouldn’t do that. Lovers shouldn’t behave this way.”

Lu Feiran suddenly spun his head around, looking at Lance with incomprehension: “How dare you say that to me? You approached me under the name Noen, spun me around in circles, and that didn’t make me sad and upset? How can you be so innocent? Do you have a heart?”

One question followed another, each louder than the last. As soon as his voice faded, the echo lingered on the art studio’s ceiling, sharp and jarring, stinging the corners of Lu Feiran’s eyes.

Anger made his face flush pink. He wished he could lunge at Lance and tear the flesh from his neck to vent his fury.

Lance froze for a few seconds, seemingly unprepared for Lu Feiran’s intense reaction.

He thought for a moment, his expression innocent: “But Ranran, you knew about it for a long time, yet you only said something now. You knew I lied to you, but you still embraced me, kissed me. Our bodies even became more compatible. If that’s not love for me, what is it?”

Lu Feiran opened his mouth, his vocal cords seemingly stolen, unable to utter a single word.

Lance’s counter-question had stumped him. He couldn’t come up with a reason right away.

He quickly regained his composure. He was the one questioning Lance right now. Who allowed Lance to question him back?

Lu Feiran forcefully closed his eyes, strongly suppressing the strange feeling in his chest: “Don’t change the subject. Answer me, why did you lie to me?”

Lance looked at Lu Feiran’s flushed face, his watery eyes surprisingly bright. He couldn’t tear his gaze away for a second.

It was terrible; he loved every version of Lu Feiran. He loved Lu Feiran’s vulnerability, tenderness, and cuteness, and he also loved his strength, coldness, and deliberate attempts to provoke him.

He had seen every side of Lu Feiran. Had Zhai Qiance seen it? Had Jin Zhan seen it? Definitely not.

Thinking this, Lance felt a little better. He still answered Lu Feiran after serious thought: “I didn’t lie to you, Ranran. You simply misunderstood, and I just didn’t clarify the misunderstanding. You can’t blame me.”

For every question, Lance processed and understood it with extreme solemnity, then constructed an answer, delivering it in the softest tone.

The gentle voice decorated the sophistry, making it easily palatable. Lu Feiran’s dark pupils widened. Lance’s reflection in them momentarily twisted, blurring into a mass of black mist.

“So, you blame me? It’s my fault?” Lu Feiran’s eyebrows scrunched up, his voice trembling and rising, then suddenly falling, forming a strange inflection.

Lance sighed, walked closer, and gently touched Lu Feiran’s cheek, wiping away a tear that had slid down at some point. Then, as if finding it a pity to waste, he kissed the corner of his eye.

“It’s not your fault. Ranran is never wrong.”

Lance was coaxing him like a child. If Lu Feiran had truly been an unsuspecting child, he would have been completely taken in by Lance.

Wasn’t that how I was before? Lu Feiran thought. If he hadn’t accidentally learned the truth, Lance might have fooled him for life.

Lu Feiran’s mind had never been clearer than it was now. He watched coldly, taking a step back: “You are twisting the facts.”

Lance dropped his expression of surprise, giving Lu Feiran an approving look.

Lu Feiran only felt terrified. He had almost been drawn into Lance’s trap.

He gasped for air, trying to fill himself with oxygen to resist the suffocation brought by Lance: “Why did you lie to me? Lance, tell me the truth, or I will leave immediately!”

Using himself as a threat always made Lance easily compromise. Lance’s smile dropped. He frowned with difficulty, seemingly debating whether he should let Lu Feiran know the truth.

Looking at Lu Feiran’s face, brimming with anger, Lance paced back and forth, finally seeming to make a decision: “Because your love is very tolerant. You were able to develop feelings for me even when you mistakenly thought I was Zhai Qiance’s affair partner. At that moment, I decided I had to win your love.”

Lance was sincere. Every sentence he spoke was the truth, but it sounded incredibly absurd to Lu Feiran.

“What feelings did I develop for you?” Lu Feiran simply couldn’t comprehend.

“Didn’t you want to be friends with me? Can you honestly say you didn’t feel captivated when you looked at my face?” Lance pressed closer, trying to pull the genuine feelings from the depths of those dark eyes. Seeing Lu Feiran step back repeatedly, he grabbed Lu Feiran’s arm, forcing him to stop avoiding him. “You knew Zhai Qiance’s true colors, yet you didn’t warn me. Wasn’t that because you were afraid that telling the truth would prevent us from even being friends?”

“Ranran, enjoying my kindness while knowing the truth and keeping silent, how long did your inner conscience torture you?” Lance pressed his advantage. “How different are you from me in that regard?”

The hidden secret deep inside, which Lu Feiran himself dared not look back at, was bluntly exposed by Lance. Lu Feiran’s hair stood on end, like a startled animal that could almost leap onto the ceiling.

It turned out he had been transparent to Lance all along.

“You… you knew…” The sense of suffocation kept coming. Lu Feiran had to pant to avoid being choked. “Seeing me like this, does it give you pleasure? Does admiring my distress make you feel interested and satisfied?”

He retreated until his back hit the hard wall, yet Lance was still approaching. The man’s face was still—neither happy nor angry—but it made Lu Feiran more afraid than Lance’s breakdown in the car earlier.

His fingertips began to go numb. A ringing sound appeared in his ears. His entire head felt dizzy, and his legs began to weaken, sliding down the wall.

Lance’s gaze followed him down. Every pore on Lu Feiran’s body resisted Lance’s proximity. He pushed back, but Lance approached, impossible to refuse.

Lu Feiran used all his strength to slap Lance, wanting him to get lost, but realized he couldn’t even say the word.

Lance’s large palm firmly covered Lu Feiran’s mouth, his hand cupped to form a small space. With one hand, he squeezed and soothed his neck: “Don’t be afraid. Breathe slowly, little by little. Don’t rush. You’ll be fine. Ranran, you’re hyperventilating.”

The surging tears all landed on the back of Lance’s hand.