Fell Deeply In Love With My Ex-Husband's Fiancé - Chapter 80

Chapter 80: Medication and Concern – “Are you Lance’s… husband?…”

It was late at night when they returned to the island. The air’s humidity was rising, and a thin layer of mist was beginning to form over the sea, but luckily, it didn’t affect the flight.

As the cabin door opened, the cold, damp sea breeze rushed in, making one inexplicably feel that this island was humanity’s last refuge in a bitter winter apocalypse, with utter despair hidden beneath a fleeting tranquility.

They had left in a hurry, wearing little and bringing nothing, but before returning, Lance had brought Lu Feiran a cashmere scarf and a coat, covering him thickly, which provided some defense against the cold wind.

Lu Feiran pulled the scarf up. His face was cold like ice. He crossed his arms and jumped down. His body swayed slightly. After finding his footing, he forcefully stomped the hard helipad ground and walked forward against the howling sea wind.

After walking a distance, no one followed. He stopped, holding the scarf over his face, and slowly turned sideways.

His black hair was blown forward across his face, covering half of it. He wiped his face and looked through the thin mist toward the helicopter, using the helipad’s cold white light.

Lance had just straightened up from a posture of bending over with his head down. His face was pale, and a look of lingering worry remained in his eyes. When his gaze suddenly met Lu Feiran’s, he immediately forced a smile intended to reassure Lu Feiran.

The mist blurred his handsome features, and Lu Feiran only saw that his expression was too strange, even a bit twisted, making him look somewhat like a ghost.

Something in his heart felt sharply squeezed, the strong sense of incongruity was startling, and the accumulated anger, unsure where to be released, inexplicably dissipated.

Lu Feiran lowered his gaze, immediately turning and running toward the house.

The house was warm like spring, and the humidifier kept the humidity comfortable. While they were away, someone had replaced the fresh flowers. The hydrangeas, air-freighted from a warmer region, still had dewdrops clinging to them.

The spilled congee from before they left had been cleaned up. The little Bernese Mountain Dog immediately circled Lu Feiran when he returned.

They had left in a rush, and the dog bowl was empty. Lu Feiran tried to follow his intuition to find the storage room with the dog food, but the room at the end of the hall was locked.

He let go of the doorknob, shook his head, and was about to try another room when he turned around and saw Lance standing there, holding a bag of dog food he’d seemingly produced out of nowhere.

The fingers clutching the mouth of the dog food bag were bruised and still trembling slightly.

Lu Feiran’s heart sank. He felt nailed to the spot, unable to move. He slightly raised his eyes and saw Lance’s clearer, even slightly tighter jawline. His lips parted.

How come… he looks a bit thinner?

“Are you feeling unwell? You’re wearing too little. Are you sick?”

Lu Feiran quickly walked over, took the dog food from Lance’s hand, and was about to grab his arm to ask for more details when the haggard man stiffened his face and simply walked away.

This had never happened before. Lu Feiran stared at his empty hand where Lance had been.

Lance’s footsteps were hurried, as if fleeing. He slipped into the distant locked room, not even pausing to lock the door behind him.

“Woof woof!”

The dog barked twice more. Lu Feiran frowned deeply. He pressed his palm down, signaling the little Bernese Mountain Dog to wait quietly.

He followed, but instead of opening the door, he stood outside, carefully adjusting his angle to peer through the gap at the person inside the room.

Lance had his back to him. He opened a cabinet, and Lu Feiran heard the rustling of pills. He guessed Lance had picked out a few with his fingers.

Then, Lance tilted his head back, dry-swallowing the pills. He braced his arms on the desk, remaining silent for a while in the unlit room.

At an angle Lu Feiran couldn’t see, Lance’s expression was cold like a suspended knife, sharp and icy, carrying a disturbing sense of impending crisis.

He was like a scarred, cornered beast about to fight for its life—vulnerable, yet extremely dangerous. One absolutely could not let down one’s guard.

He was counting down the time in his mind, formulating a new plan.

Suddenly, a weight fell onto his back. His body leaned slightly forward, and he froze entirely, his pupils slightly widened, as if he had seen a rainbow at midnight.

Lu Feiran had rushed over and firmly hugged him. Separated by only a few thin layers of clothing, their bodies were pressed together.

Lu Feiran didn’t even register his own thought process; his body had already acted. Only after hugging Lance from behind did he think—

Lance is sick. I should stay with him.

The white pill bottle was very conspicuous on the desk. Lu Feiran secretly leaned his head out from behind Lance’s back to look, but the label was entirely in German. He only had a hasty glance, couldn’t remember the name, let alone check it later.

Sensing the gaze behind him, Lance casually tossed the pill bottle into the drawer, slamming it shut with a bang, which startled Lu Feiran, causing him to hug tighter.

“Um… I wanted to ask you if you brought my violin?” Lu Feiran tried to keep his tone sounding natural. “Would you like to hear me play?”

Lance turned his head to look at him. A strand of dull hair hung over the bridge of his nose, dividing his face into two halves.

One side was smiling, the other cold.

Lu Feiran’s heart sank. Without thinking much, he raised both hands and cupped Lance’s face, gently rubbing it, softening the stiff facial muscles until he finally saw a complete smile on his face.

“When you gave me the violin, you said you wanted to hear music, but I haven’t had a chance to play for you yet.”

Lance’s silence made the atmosphere heavy and tense. For the first time, Lu Feiran felt uncertain; he had never seen Lance give no reaction.

He took a long, slow breath, pushed himself away a step to pull the drawer open, but the drawer was immediately pinned down by a hand with distinct knuckles.

“What did you just take?” Lu Feiran chose to ask directly.

“Nothing,” Lance replied indifferently, pulling Lu Feiran’s wrist to bring him back to his side.

Lu Feiran wanted to press the issue, but stopped short. Everyone should have some privacy.

For a moment, another thought occurred to him: Lance shouldn’t be hiding this from him. He could be accepting of everything. If he was sick, they could treat it together.

But this thought stunned Lu Feiran for a second. In this awkward situation, why should he accompany someone to treat an illness? Just a few hours ago, he was planning to escape through a window and never see him again.

Forget it, don’t think about that for now.

Lu Feiran didn’t go near the drawer again. He walked towards the back-left, letting Lance’s body completely obscure the drawer.

“Do you really want to play the violin for me?” Lance asked, a clear nervousness on his face, as if he was worried this was another tactic to make him drop his guard.

“Of course,” Lu Feiran smiled, composed, then scratched his face awkwardly. “But my skill level is definitely not as good as it was a few years ago. I’ve been doing rehabilitation for a while, and now I have a bit of confidence.”

He was skilled in the art of language, framing the fact that he had played the violin for Jin Zhan as “rehabilitation,” avoiding Lance bringing up those memories that might make him uncomfortable.

After all, they were still on the island and dependent on Lance for food, clothing, shelter, and transportation.

Lu Feiran found a reasonable excuse for his behavior. As he walked out of the room with Lance, he realized the little Bernese Mountain Dog had been waiting patiently outside the door for a long time, its furry little face looking incredibly wronged and pitiful.

Crap, I completely forgot to feed it!

Lu Feiran smiled at the puppy, wondering if it could understand his apology.

Lance bent down and picked up the bag of dog food Lu Feiran had carelessly left by the wall corner, hiding the slight upward curve of his lips from view.

This seemingly insignificant little thing transformed into a sense of security that filled a missing piece in Lance’s heart.

His movements became fluid as he poured the food for the little Bernese Mountain Dog. He felt much more relaxed, already thinking that he could make it some homemade dog food next time.

…

Lu Feiran’s claim that his skill level had declined was entirely modesty. The moment he held the violin, his whole being radiated an extraordinary elegance, completely different from his usual demeanor.

He was naturally suited to stand on a stage, focused by the spotlight, accepting countless flowers, applause, and accolades.

His violin music flowed more smoothly and beautifully than a mountain spring. Listening to it, one knew the performer was exceptionally gifted. If he had continued on the path of art, he might very well have achieved great things.

When the final note finished, Lance clapped. He was beaming, his pale complexion restored to normal. While Lu Feiran was playing, he had also tidied his hair, returning to his refined and elegant appearance. His smile made people feel enveloped in warm light.

Lu Feiran felt somewhat relieved seeing his reaction. He carefully set down the violin and checked the date and time on the electronic clock.

Lance noticed his action and said, “It’s late. You should rest.”

After Lu Feiran had completely put the violin back in its place, Lance suddenly said, “That was wonderful. You have such talent. You’re the most amazing violinist I’ve ever seen.”

The simple, direct praise made Lu Feiran blush a little, wanting to smile from the compliment.

He knew his own level. In his youth, he might have stood out, but he hadn’t pursued this path in adulthood, and years of neglecting practice had made him just one of many.

He considered himself a reasonably good amateur enthusiast, but an acclaimed master with innate talent? Not at all.

Lance then asked, “Have you considered continuing your studies? You can attend any university in Europe you want, just say the word.”

I want to go back home. Lu Feiran swallowed the words, his throat bobbing.

“No, being a hobby is fine. I have a lot of things to do now.” He smoothly changed the topic, speaking words that implied reassurance. “If you want to hear it, I can play for you anytime, just you.”

Lance was clearly pleased by this. He became excited, a complete reversal from his sullen and aloof demeanor of half an hour ago.

Seeing him happy, Lu Feiran seized the opportunity to ask, “When will my test results be ready? Can I contact Dr. Benjamin directly?”

Hearing this, the smile on Lance’s face faded slightly. He asked vaguely, “Contact him to ask what? He will interpret your reports directly for me.”

“Give me his number, please. I want to ask myself,” Lu Feiran insisted on communicating himself. Realizing his tone was curt, he added, “I’ll use your phone to make the call. You can even keep the recording on.”

After a brief silence, Lance neither confirmed nor denied, only saying, “I’ll let you know tomorrow afternoon after the reports are ready.”

Lu Feiran knew this was agreement.

He knew that if he hadn’t mentioned the recording, Lance would absolutely monitor his calls. But if he exposed the intention… Lance wouldn’t do it.

All vile actions occurred behind Lu Feiran’s back. In his sight, everything was kept clean.

…

The next afternoon, Lance handed his phone to Lu Feiran as promised. A number had already been entered, requiring only a gentle tap to dial.

Lu Feiran sat on the sofa, his legs bent to his chest, hugging his knees, contemplating the wording for the call. At the same time, he watched Lance, checking when he would leave his line of sight.

As the clock turned to a certain hour, Lance entered the same room as last night, but this time, he quietly locked the door.

Lu Feiran gently exhaled the breath he was holding, his fingers trembling slightly as he pressed the call button.

After a brief few beeps, the call was answered quickly.

Benjamin was surprised to receive a call from Lance and spoke passionately into the phone, but Lu Feiran didn’t understand a single word and had to abruptly interrupt him.

“Dr. Benjamin? Do you remember me? My surname is Lu, and I’m Chinese,” Lu Feiran said.

Benjamin stopped speaking and immediately got to the point, saying he certainly remembered him. “Your report is ready. I’ve already sent it to Lance’s email. Would you like me to send you a separate copy?”

“No need… I’m sorry, I have a few things I want to ask you,” Lu Feiran’s expression was anxious; every second was precious. He worried Lance might suddenly come out of the room. “Do you know Lance? He seems to be sick and taking medication. Do you know what his illness is?”

Benjamin was silent for a moment, his tone surprised: “He has started taking medication?”

Lu Feiran froze slightly, then heard Benjamin continue in a professional tone: “This is his first time taking medication. Please remind him not to stop taking it arbitrarily and to come in for a follow-up every two weeks.”

Benjamin was tight-lipped, unwilling to say anything extra. Lu Feiran quickly asked, “What is the illness? Could you please explain it to me in detail?”

“…I’m sorry, Mr. Lu, this is the patient’s privacy. We are required to maintain confidentiality,” Benjamin said. “Are you Lance’s… husband?”

Lu Feiran’s throat felt clogged. He could have told a small lie and gotten away with it. After all, Benjamin couldn’t ask for proof right now.

But he just couldn’t say it. He didn’t want to lie about this matter.

“Then what should I do? I want to help him,” Lu Feiran changed the subject.

“Support and understanding are very important. Also, the medication will have side effects like drowsiness and reduced libido. We hope the family member can be accommodating.”

Clack. The door lock was undone. Lu Feiran hastily said a couple of words and ended the call.

When Lance came out, he saw Lu Feiran sitting cross-legged on the sofa, holding the phone, staring blankly at him. His dark eyes were wide, and for some reason, he was biting his lip, looking a little nervous.

Lance’s gaze dropped to the phone in Lu Feiran’s hand. He smiled and asked, “Are you relieved? There’s nothing wrong with your body.”

Lu Feiran slowly nodded, then remembered that he had only gotten the phone by using the excuse of asking about his own test results.

“…It’s strange. I’ve always felt uncomfortable in my chest, a dull feeling, sometimes painful. I was really worried, thinking there was genuinely something wrong.”

He spoke casually, shifting the topic to himself, covering up the nervousness of prying into Lance’s private matters.

But the seemingly unintentional statement struck Lance deeply. His eyelids fluttered twice. Thanks to the medication, he didn’t feel any pronounced emotional turbulence.

Lu Feiran forced a relaxed smile. Seeing no particular reaction from Lance, he held up the phone in his hand and shook it, asking, “You definitely saw the message Zhou Zihua sent me. I need to let him know I’m safe.”

He didn’t ask if he could; he stated that he had to do it. If Lance disagreed, another conflict was inevitable.

In the few seconds of waiting for a reply, Lu Feiran didn’t miss a single change in Lance’s expression.

But that face was uniform, even the smile was a manufactured one, a fake smile Lu Feiran could see through immediately. He subconsciously thought Lance would be unhappy about this, but upon closer inspection, Lance didn’t seem displeased.

Lu Feiran was a bit confused. He said, “I’ll send him a text message from your phone, and you can review it before I send it.”

These words made his heart race. He had never been so cautious with anyone in his life.

He worried that his words or actions might provoke Lance, causing him pain to the point of a breakdown.

Lance, however, brought up a different topic: “It’s your working time now. Aren’t you planning to work?”

Lu Feiran’s eyes dimmed. He thought Lance was deliberately changing the subject, implying he disagreed with him communicating with Zhou Zihua. He immediately felt wronged, suppressed his feelings, and said, “I’m taking a half-day break today.”

Lance nodded, forcefully leading Lu Feiran to the home theater. They sat side-by-side on the sofa. He pulled Lu Feiran into his embrace, holding his lover’s slender body, and took out a tablet.

“During our break, let’s watch a movie together,” Lance said. “Choose one to play, and then you can text Zhou Zihua.”

Seeing Lance agree to let him contact Zhou Zihua, Lu Feiran excitedly tried to sit up but was firmly held back, resting against Lance’s thigh.

He stopped struggling. Seeing Lance’s emerald eyes gazing down at him, he simply half-reclined, grabbed the cashmere blanket to cover his legs, and scrolled through the tablet to select a movie. It genuinely felt a bit like a vacation.

Lu Feiran wasn’t very interested in movies. He casually selected one with bright colors and hit play.

In the movie scene, a group of young people arrived at a resort with green grass and blue skies, staying in distinctively white local houses.

Lu Feiran’s attention returned to the phone. He drafted the message right in front of Lance and held it up for Lance to see.

[Xiao Hua, I am safe, and I will be back before the New Year. Don’t worry.]

Lance’s placid face finally showed a slight change. He used the white light flickering from the screen to clearly see Lu Feiran’s expression, including the hope the other man held for leaving the island soon.

“Delete the third sentence. Tell him who you’re with; otherwise, he won’t be reassured,” Lance said.

His gaze at Lu Feiran grew intense. A large, warm hand consistently massaged the back of Lu Feiran’s head, making him feel like a cat being played with on someone’s lap.

Looking at Lance’s inscrutable eyes, Lu Feiran felt that the old Lance had been so easy to read he was practically transparent!

And now? He seemed to be deliberately hiding something, making him much harder to understand.

Lu Feiran had no choice but to delete the sentence, “I will be back before the New Year.” He replaced it with, “Lance and I are in Germany,” and then angrily held the phone screen horizontally for Lance to see.

Lance nodded. Lu Feiran then forcefully pressed the screen to enter Zhou Zihua’s number, as if venting his frustration, and hit send.

After the message was sent, Lance suddenly said faintly, “You remember his phone number.”

Lu Feiran: “…What’s wrong?”

“What is my phone number?” Lance asked.

Lu Feiran couldn’t answer this question. He could recognize the number when he saw it, but he couldn’t recite it from memory. To be precise, besides Zhou Zihua’s number, he didn’t memorize anyone else’s.

And Zhou Zihua’s was simply due to knowing him for so long; he had memorized it as a child and naturally hadn’t forgotten it as an adult.

Lance knew, of course, that Lu Feiran didn’t remember it, and that was what bothered him.

He had been jealous of many people: Lu Feiran’s ex-husband, the young painter, and even a puppy. But he had never been jealous of Zhou Zihua.

Because he knew that Zhou Zihua and Lu Feiran had been close friends since kindergarten, their feelings were pure, and Zhou Zihua held a very unique place in Lu Feiran’s heart.

Lance had targeted everyone he was jealous of, even the dog, but he had never done anything to Zhou Zihua.

Now, he regretted it a little.

He should have chased Zhou Zihua out of Lu Feiran’s circle earlier too.

Thinking this, Lance recited a string of numbers, demanding that Lu Feiran memorize it.

Lu Feiran, however, felt Lance was pushing his luck. He had already made concession after concession, considering Lance’s situation, and now Lance was taking advantage.

He refused to memorize it, no matter what.

Fortunately, before their argument escalated, Lance’s phone rang wildly.

Lu Feiran saw the incoming call was a number starting with 86. Without even clearly seeing the digits, he quickly swiped to answer.

Lance’s expression wasn’t pleasant, but under the influence of the medication, he had reined it in considerably. He handed the phone to Lu Feiran, not saying a word, tacitly allowing the conversation.

As soon as the call connected, the person on the other end started wailing: “Ranran, Ranran, my Ranran, where did you go! I went to all the hotels you booked and couldn’t find you. Calling the police was useless! Are you with that pervert? Are you okay? I won’t believe that text message until you speak to me yourself.”

“…I’m doing quite well. The travel destination was just temporarily changed. Don’t worry.” Lu Feiran felt a warmth in his heart. He quickly soothed Zhou Zihua with a few words, worried that he was genuinely on the verge of crying.

“Did that big pervert take your dog? Have you seen the dog?” Zhou Zihua worried that the little Bernese Mountain Dog might suffer unintended consequences.

Lu Feiran pinched his nose, wanting to tell Zhou Zihua to stop calling Lance “pervert” so often. The man was listening closely right next to him!

“The dog is with me. Calm down.”

Zhou Zihua whimpered twice: “Then you guys are a family of three reunited.”

Lu Feiran paused, his dark eyelashes fluttering. He glanced at Lance’s expression. He saw the man’s initially blank and slightly sullen face gradually clear up, even showing a hint of a smile.

Zhou Zihua then asked, “So when are you coming back?”

Here it comes. Even if he wasn’t allowed to mention it in the text, Zhou Zihua was bound to ask.

As Lu Feiran hesitated, he felt the hand gently stroking the back of his head stop. The other hand resting on his waist tightened slightly, then restlessly lifted the edge of the blanket and slipped under the hem of his loungewear.

The warm palm rested quietly on his slender stomach.

Even though he knew Lance wouldn’t hurt him, the feeling of having both of his body’s vital weak points controlled by someone was genuinely unsettling.

…

The movie was already past the halfway mark. In the initially light and airy atmosphere, the first victim unexpectedly appeared, and the plot began to spiral out of control like an unbridled horse.

Lu Feiran inadvertently glimpsed a bloody scene and was startled. He said stiffly and haltingly, “Uh… I don’t know. We’ll, we’ll see?”

Zhou Zihua thought Lu Feiran was being coerced into saying things against his will. He immediately reacted, loudly shouting: “Lance, you’re there, right? Did you find Lu Feiran in France? Did you see the crowd of people waiting for him in France? Because the line of people waiting for him to divorce can stretch from Beijing to France!! Be normal, Fuck! Fuck you!”

Lu Feiran: “…What are you talking about?”

“Isn’t it true? A ton of people have liked you since middle school, but you just didn’t know it. They all came to ask me if you were dating anyone, and I knew you wouldn’t like it, so I helped you send them away,” Zhou Zihua said.

The uncomfortable images in the movie began to increase. The blond female protagonist, wearing a beautiful, colorful flower crown, was brainwashed and destined never to escape. It gave Lu Feiran goosebumps. He immediately turned off the movie.

At the same time the movie was turned off, the phone call was also disconnected. The enclosed cinema room suddenly became very quiet, so silent that even breathing sounds felt jarring.

Lu Feiran sat up, the blanket slipping from his legs. “He was just kidding. No one is chasing me. He didn’t really mean to curse you, so don’t take it to heart.”

Lance straightened Lu Feiran’s messy hair and said, “I’m well aware of how many people are interested in you. But it doesn’t matter. Staying here with me, no one can see you. You belong to me alone.”

“As for Zhou Zihua, I really don’t like how close he is to you, but he’s your friend, so I can tolerate it. You don’t have to worry that I’ll do anything to him. Don’t be nervous.”

He placed his hand on the small of Lu Feiran’s back, stroking it reassuringly. However, Lu Feiran was covered in goosebumps. He put his feet on the ground and stood next to the sofa.

The distance was instantly widened. Lance’s hands hovered in the air for a second before easily retracting.

But he was still smiling, like an unreal, false person. Lu Feiran looked at him, his lips white.

“…That movie was awful. It’s pure fraud. It uses a heartwarming tone at the beginning to lure people in and then kills them. It suddenly becomes terrifying later. I can’t handle it. I don’t like it. I won’t watch anymore…”

Lu Feiran was seemingly talking about the movie, but was actually making a veiled accusation.

Twenty-one days left.