Fell Deeply In Love With My Ex-Husband's Fiancé - Chapter 58

Chapter 58: Love Sickness – They were destined to be together, even in death…

“Why? You were the one who suggested meeting my family,” Lance’s dominating presence instantly softened.

Lu Feiran felt a lack of confidence but was still direct: “I lied. I just wanted to see you make a fool of yourself after watching you enjoy pretending.”

Lance paused, accepting the explanation, and took hold of Lu Feiran’s shoulders, turning him around: “I took you seriously.”

His undisguised look of frustration appeared in Lu Feiran’s line of sight.

Lu Feiran didn’t shy away this time. Frowning, he fixed Lance with a cool, clear gaze: “If it’s to apologize for what happened today, I’ll go. But anything else, don’t mention it.”

Lance: “You definitely need to apologize to me. Jumping into the pool from the second floor without a word worried me.”

Lu Feiran lowered his gaze, the tips of his ears flushed red. He admitted that point; he had been too impulsive, getting provoked by Lance’s few words, and jumping down as if to prove something.

Prove what? Prove that he had been infected with Lance’s insanity.

“I think you need to calm down,” Lu Feiran didn’t take the bait. He took a deep breath and changed the subject. “First, figure out whether you want to get revenge on me, or if you want me to care for you like I used to. If you want revenge, you are being completely unreasonable. If you want me to care for you, you have the wrong person. You shouldn’t lack people who care about you. Don’t casually say those two words.”

“Which two words?” Lance asked.

“‘Marriage.’ Is it appropriate for us to bring that up given our current relationship?” Lu Feiran’s brows were deeply furrowed, a crease visible between them.

Lu Feiran always found Lance incomprehensible. He was clearly a man who played with life, so why didn’t he simply walk away after achieving his goal? As for the reason Lance gave—”love”—Lu Feiran didn’t believe it at all.

“Don’t talk about that anymore. I won’t marry anyone. To me, ‘marriage’ is nothing short of revenge,” Lu Feiran said.

Love had been reduced to a looming, unsettling dark cloud, and Lu Feiran, like a person without an umbrella, only wanted to escape, avoiding an inevitable downpour.

Lance’s eyelashes fluttered, despairing over Lu Feiran’s firm rejection, yet secretly relieved that he wouldn’t marry anyone else.

“I tried to stay calm for a month, Rannan. I haven’t seen you for a month. I miss you. If I don’t see you again, I’ll go crazy. Why would I want to get revenge on you? I love you.”

The extreme, suppressed longing burst out at this moment. Lance pressed his forehead against Lu Feiran’s, almost pleadingly, wanting to kiss him again but hesitant. The colder Lu Feiran was, the more afraid Lance became. He knew Lu Feiran had made another cruel decision.

“Play your role-playing games by yourself. Before, you acted pitiful, pretending you were genuinely going to marry Zhai Qiance, and even deliberately let me see the news of your engagement period. Now you’re pretending to have a wife you desperately seek but can’t obtain, building a persona of deep affection.” Lu Feiran curled his lips, pushing Lance away. “Have you put on enough of an act?”

The atmosphere grew heavier. Lu Feiran felt suffocated, spitting out his lines like a puppet: “I’m not right for you. I’m not good to you. I have a terrible temper, I swear, and I hit people. You’ve experienced it already.”

The implication was clear: it could end now. Jumping into the icy water had calmed him down. He didn’t want to go through another round of deception and disappointment, nor did he want to differentiate which part of Lance was real and which was fake. It was better to assume it was all fake. He didn’t want anything anymore.

Lu Feiran pinched the ring with his thumb and forefinger, rotating it, the friction against his skin creating a tingling sensation. He was ready to take it off and return it to its owner at any moment.

Lance knew Lu Feiran definitely had lingering feelings and wouldn’t break off the relationship so easily, yet he could clearly separate emotion from rationality. This was what Lance feared the most.

He had endured a month of separation to allow both of them to cool down, and he had consulted trusted people for advice on winning him back.

He would sincerely show Lu Feiran all the good and the bad. If he needed to vent, Lance would satisfy that. Slaps or jumping into the water, it didn’t matter. But Lu Feiran could not reject him, nor could he be with anyone else.

“…I will never pretend in front of you again,” Lance stared at the finger that was rotating the ring, his eyes flickering with a suppressed desire to move. “I was wrong. My methods before were incorrect. Don’t take off the ring. You can do anything you want to me. Torture me!”

Lance took a step closer, his steaming body moving near, his full chest nearly hitting Lu Feiran’s face. Lu Feiran pushed him again, raising his voice and asking, confused: “Why must we torment each other! Are you a masochist?”

I shouldn’t even try to reason with him. Why talk reason to a lunatic!

Lu Feiran angrily said, “I refuse to play along!”

“You must play along. Rannan, you could marry him, so why can’t you marry me?” Lance excitedly grabbed Lu Feiran’s hand, his words spoken as if they were perfectly natural and right.

After saying this, his expression became incredibly sincere. Lu Feiran read genuine happiness on Lance’s face, as if he was already anticipating a wonderful future life.

A faint smile hung on his lips, the curve perfect, resembling the solemn, yet uncontrollable, excitement one shows when facing a priest, adding an uncanny quality to his handsome face.

“What?” Lu Feiran was stunned, asking blankly several times, “What??”

Is this like distributing candy? If you give one to Xiao Ming, you must give one to Xiao Hong?

“The moment I saw you, I knew we were destined to marry. It’s just that Chinese law doesn’t permit bigamy, so I was waiting for you. Lying was only to steal you away. Now that you’re divorced, we naturally should get married. We’re just missing a piece of paper, but that’s not very important.” His voice was gentle, his tone like a musical instrument, speaking confidently.

“???” He really is a self-absorbed madman!

Lu Feiran tried to speak several times but held back. He tensed his face, looking towards the window, seemingly considering the possibility of climbing out to leave.

Lance was starting his sophistry again. His logic was different from ordinary people; he absolutely couldn’t talk to him too much, or he risked being led into a trap.

Lance noticed Lu Feiran’s odd expression, slightly restrained himself, and his emotions calmed down. The anxious atmosphere gradually dissipated.

“You’ll rest here tonight. No more talking for now. I’ll stay with you.”

Do I… need you to stay with me? Lu Feiran thought, but he didn’t refute it again. Let the argument end here.

“…Fine, but I need to text Xiaohua. I came with him; he’ll be worried about me.”

Seeing Lu Feiran agree to stay for now, Lance completely regained his composure and said, “He was by the pool when you jumped from the second floor. The butler has already taken him to change clothes and sent him home. He’s home now. You can text him.”

Lu Feiran paused, nodded, and contacted Zhou Zihua, asking him to convey his thanks to his father.

Zhou Zihua, however, didn’t ask a bunch of questions as Lu Feiran expected, just reminding him to rest early, as if he had guessed the situation.

Putting aside the argument, Lu Feiran didn’t know what to say to Lance. He didn’t want the topic to constantly revolve around the two of them, so he simply stayed silent, pulled back the covers, and got into bed.

Lance was quite satisfied with the quiet companionship. Coincidentally, a servant brought hot milk. He placed the cup in Lu Feiran’s hand: “Drink it and go to sleep. I’ll stay here and watch over you.”

Lu Feiran didn’t understand why Lance insisted on sitting next to him; being watched while sleeping felt awkward. But he knew that with just the two of them in the room, Lance would be difficult to dismiss.

Fine, let Lance have his way tonight. He would wait until the results of Jin Zhan’s investigation were released.

Lu Feiran commanded the smart home system to turn off all the lights but left a small gap in the curtains by the window, where the faint outline of the gray moon could be seen.

The dim moonlight fell on Lance’s face, making the vivid red slap mark especially clear. Lu Feiran’s breathing hitched. He turned his back on the bed.

Before, he would never have dared to injure Lance’s face; even a light caress would have been done carefully. Now that they had broken up, why was he acting so willfully? It shouldn’t be like this. Lu Feiran felt that something was gradually straying from its original track.

Not until Lu Feiran’s breathing became steady did Lance stand up, floating like a ghost to the head of Lu Feiran’s bed. He carefully tucked the blanket around him, his hand hovering above the pale skin, making a gesture of stroking, but never actually touching the sleeping Lu Feiran.

“Don’t think I’m crazy, and don’t be annoyed by me. I truly won’t let go. I’m sorry, baby. Get used to it.” Lance’s tone was full of grievance. “Although you didn’t ask, I still have to say it: jumping into the water was cold.”

He laughed self-mockingly, the curve of his lips stiff. He restrained his intense desire to touch him, stood up straight, and quietly lowered the room temperature.

He needed to be cared for.

In the latter half of the night, Lu Feiran woke up feeling cold. He rubbed his eyes drowsily and sat up, checking the indoor temperature. Is the thermostat broken?

He turned over, and Lance’s figure suddenly entered Lu Feiran’s vision, completely stripping him of sleep. Why was Lance still here? Was he planning to sit here all night?

Lance was leaning against the armchair, his shirt open, exposing a large expanse of his chest. Even in the dim room, the distinct contours were visible. He was asleep in the armchair, his left hand supporting his chin, but he didn’t look comfortable, his brow tightly furrowed with worry and sorrow.

Lu Feiran found a shadow of the past on the face of the quietly sleeping Lance. Why couldn’t Lance be consistent, like he was before?

He sighed, and on an impulse, he stroked Lance’s hair, intending to smooth the wrinkle between his brows, but found Lance’s body temperature shockingly hot.

He quickly withdrew his hand. Lu Feiran immediately turned up the room temperature and tried to drag Lance’s wrist towards the bed, but he couldn’t move him.

He suddenly realized what he was doing and stopped, stunned. The clarity of the turmoil in his heart told him that he was worrying about Lance.

While Lu Feiran was distracted, a hand gripped his arm. The palm was dry and burning hot, much hotter than usual. He looked up, locking eyes with Lance, and saw bright surprise and satisfaction.

Lu Feiran suddenly understood. The fever was also part of Lance’s plan. This wasn’t the first time he had tortured his own body.

Lu Feiran was speechless for a moment. An unexplained fire burned in his chest, but he couldn’t unleash it. He watched motionlessly as Lance climbed into the warm covers where he had been sleeping, intending to leave and give him the bed, but Lance pulled him back.

“You guessed correctly. I did it on purpose.” Lance saw the change in Lu Feiran’s eyes and confessed before he could be questioned.

Lu Feiran didn’t look at him: “…I didn’t ask you. Do whatever you want, it has nothing to do with me.”

“Your subconscious reaction doesn’t lie. I succeeded.” Lance didn’t let go of Lu Feiran’s hand. “Rannan, I am sincere with you. I hope you won’t deceive yourself either. Admit it, you care about me.”

At half past four in the morning, snow was falling outside again, landing on the evergreen shrubs like dandelion fluff, causing a tickle in the heart.

Lu Feiran also became sentimental with the silent night, his expression peaceful, allowing a degree of indulgence. He calmly waved Lance’s hand away: “You don’t need to be sincere with me anymore. I’ll get someone to help you. How do I call your butler?”

Lu Feiran saw a call button by the window and reached for it, but Lance pulled him back to sit on the edge of the bed. Then, a pair of scalding arms wrapped around his waist. Lance lay on his side on the bed, curling up, resting his head on Lu Feiran’s lap, immediately attempting to burrow in.

Lu Feiran no longer cared about the call button. He quickly grabbed Lance’s head, stopping him from moving randomly: “What kind of fit are you throwing now?”

“Love sickness.”

“…” Lu Feiran looked up and rolled his eyes. “Don’t use things you learned from dubious sources on me.”

This sounded like pickup lines that circulated online more than a decade ago, fooling countless foolish men. He never expected Lance to resort to this tactic. Lance’s current vulnerability and plea felt awkward to Lu Feiran. The childish performance was too starkly different from his usual self, the sense of disconnect too strong, making Lu Feiran let out a small laugh.

“But it works, doesn’t it?” Lance placed his face contentedly into Lu Feiran’s palm. “You smiled.”

Lu Feiran immediately pressed his lips together.

How long had it been since they had such a calm, even intimate, interaction? In the past month, the passage of time seemed different for Lance; the bleak, desolate weather of winter felt like a funeral being held for him.

Lance thought, without Lu Feiran, he might as well be dead, but he couldn’t die now. He had to die with Lu Feiran.

He knew Lu Feiran had recently relocated his mother’s grave and reserved a vacant spot for himself beside her.

Lance thought that he, too, would eventually rest there, but he didn’t need a separate spot. His ashes would surely be mixed with Lu Feiran’s.