I Truly Never Intended to Have a Contract Marriage with a Big Shot - Chapter 3

Is there anything more awkward than a married couple meeting at a family banquet and both mistaking who the other person is?

If one were to rank the top three “social death” moments in Sheng Mingzhi’s life, this scene would firmly hold the number one spot. For dozens of seconds, Sheng Mingzhi’s brain went completely blank.

It wasn’t until Lu Jiayan took a step forward, removed his suit jacket, and draped it over Sheng Mingzhi’s shoulders that the spell broke.

His voice carried a hint of a cool, teasing smile—the kind of “hidden dagger behind a smile” that was characteristic of Lu Jiayan: “Missed your husband that much? You’re staring.”

Oh.

So, he did it on purpose.

Not only did he do it on purpose, but now he’s being sarcastic because I mistook him for someone else.

Sheng Mingzhi’s racing heart slowly calmed down, only to be replaced by a smoldering fire of indignation.

“Mingzhi, are you alright?”

The man who looked seventy percent similar to Lu Jiayan spoke in a gentle, concerned tone. Since the person draping the coat over him was Lu Jiayan, then the man he had mistaken for his husband was, predictably, Lu Jiayan’s elder brother: Lu Xiao.

He was also Lu Jiayan’s former number-one rival.

As the second son, Lu Jiayan hadn’t held much of an advantage within the Shengjia Group back then. That was precisely why he had entered into a strategic business marriage with Sheng Mingzhi to consolidate his position within the family.

Three years of expanding overseas markets had effectively declared the final heir of the Lu family. Lu Jiayan’s return at this time signaled that he was about to take over as the Executive Vice President of the Shengjia Group headquarters.

And yet, as Lu Jiayan’s spouse, at the very first family banquet upon his return, Sheng Mingzhi had mistaken his husband’s arch-rival for his husband.

…

Sheng Mingzhi suddenly felt a pang of guilt.

“I’m fine,” Sheng Mingzhi gave an awkward smile. “Brother Lu, I was just joking with Jiayan. Sorry, please don’t take it to heart.”

He was so embarrassed he wanted to dig a hole and bury himself on the spot.

Lu Xiao considerately gave him an out: “It seems Mingzhi’s alcohol tolerance is just as low as it used to be.”

Under everyone’s tacit agreement, the blunder of mistaking the brothers was quickly brushed off with the universal excuse of “having one too many.”

Sheng Mingzhi now only wanted to find an excuse to go upstairs, change his clothes, and leave this place of social death. However, when the Old Master heard about the “spill,” he insisted that Lu Jiayan accompany him.

With their persona as a “loving couple” to maintain, Sheng Mingzhi saw no way out. He had to force a happy expression and head up to the second floor of the villa with Lu Jiayan.

________________________________________

As they moved through the corridor, the clamor of the hall seemed to be sequestered into another world; it suddenly became quiet.

Sheng Mingzhi hadn’t gotten over the embarrassment yet, so he kept his back turned to Lu Jiayan. The champagne on his clothes emitted a faint alcoholic scent that wasn’t particularly pleasant. Sheng Mingzhi, who had always been a bit of a germaphobe, furrowed his brows slightly.

As they pushed open the door to the walk-in closet, the silence of the journey was finally broken by Lu Jiayan.

“Sheng Mingzhi, it’s been three years. Are you planning to just keep showing me the back of your head?”

He used his full name. No matter how many years passed, he never seemed to use a nickname. Despite being six years older, he clearly didn’t know the first thing about “respecting the young.” He was both annoying and distantly cold.

The anger Sheng Mingzhi had managed to suppress flared up again. He turned around and sneered, “Is there a need to show you my face? It’s not like President Lu can recognize what I look like anyway.”

He had intentionally mistaken him for Sheng Xue. How petty could a person be? Did he really need to hold a grudge that long?

Lu Jiayan’s expression remained nonchalant as he replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world: “Isn’t plastic surgery a trend in your entertainment circle? It’s only normal that I’d get confused.”

“…”

Oh.

Beyond being petty, he’s also full of excuses.

“Thank you,” Sheng Mingzhi smiled, though it was more of a toothy grimace. “If you put even a little heart into it, you’d know that gender reassignment isn’t exactly a ‘trend’ in the industry.”

—Absurd. Was he supposed to bow in gratitude to the Great President for taking time out of his busy schedule to “understand” the entertainment industry?!

Since they didn’t need to act like a loving couple in private, Sheng Mingzhi rolled his eyes immediately after speaking.

They had a private master suite on a dedicated floor of the old mansion, connected to a walk-in closet. Occasionally, during holidays, they would stay over, so the nannies kept plenty of Sheng Mingzhi’s clothes stocked.

The Lu family was clearly very satisfied with this “grandson-in-law,” furnishing the space according to his picky tastes. The closet was filled with the latest haute couture of the season, categorized and hung in rows, ranging in value from tens of thousands to millions. Not a single item was a repeat; it was extravagant to the point of wasteful.

Lu Jiayan leaned idly against the doorframe, his eyes sweeping over the flamboyant decorations and the overflowing wardrobe. He could see that in three years, Sheng Mingzhi had made zero progress.

Arrogant, capricious, vain, and hollow—like a little flower peacock spirit.

Sheng Mingzhi changed quickly. He tossed the expensive suit he had been wearing onto the floor carelessly; it was obvious the young master wouldn’t grace it with a second look.

“Do you still want your coat? If not, I’m throwing it away.”

Sheng Mingzhi focused on the mirror, tying a Windsor knot. Though his words sought Lu Jiayan’s opinion, he didn’t spare him a glance, busy preening his bright feathers. The suit jacket Lu Jiayan had used to cover him was already tossed onto the sofa.

Sheng Mingzhi wasn’t confident enough to think he’d actually get a reply. Sure enough, by the time he fastened his last cufflink, Lu Jiayan was already sitting at the desk in the master bedroom, making a phone call.

As a core member of the Shengjia board, Lu Jiayan’s twenty-four hours were precious, with time allocated down to the second. Sheng Mingzhi was long used to him handling business anytime, anywhere, so he waited at the door to go down together, lest the Old Master notice something was off.

At that moment, his phone buzzed. For work reasons, Sheng Mingzhi usually kept it on silent. It was a voice message from Xiao Wang.

Sheng Mingzhi glanced at the calling Lu Jiayan and clicked “Convert to Text.” However, his finger slipped, and the audio played out loud.

“Mingzhi-ah, have you seen your husband yet—?”

Sheng Mingzhi jumped in fright.

Lu Jiayan didn’t hang up, but he raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting to Sheng Mingzhi. There was a hint of interrogation in his eyes, as if asking who the man in the message was.

Is it any of your business?

Sheng Mingzhi rolled his eyes internally. What right did a “plastic” husband who couldn’t even recognize his own spouse at a banquet have to exercise the right of “checking in”?

Then, the second half of Xiao Wang’s message echoed through the lonely bedroom:

“—Is the old gentleman’s health doing alright lately?”

…

…

Coincidentally, Lu Jiayan had just hung up. Xiao Wang’s words were like a clap of thunder, lingering in the room.

Dead silence.

Lu Jiayan’s cool gaze fixed unblinkingly on Sheng Mingzhi.

Sheng Mingzhi: “…”

“Old gentleman?”

Lu Jiayan let out a cold laugh. The mirth left his peach-blossom eyes, and his voice turned icy, making Sheng Mingzhi feel like he was freezing.

“Is this how you describe me to others?”

Sheng Mingzhi opened his mouth dryly. Seeing Lu Jiayan looking for a fight, he suddenly remembered the tabloid news from earlier today. The anger in his heart flared up again.

I haven’t even settled the score with him yet, and he dares to snap at me?

It was common knowledge: the person who dared to snap at Young Master Sheng hadn’t been born yet.

“Is something wrong?” Sheng Mingzhi sneered. “You are old.”

And you’re disrespecting your elders by bullying a kid.

Lu Jiayan had likely only heard people praise his looks since he was a child. He had never been called old. To hear it for the first time from the mouth of the spouse he hadn’t seen in three years was a shock. His expression froze for a moment. Not exactly “ugly,” but certainly not pleasant.

Seeing his face change faster than the flip of a page, Sheng Mingzhi was practically laughing from anger.

“What, President Lu thinks I’m wrong? Right, I am wrong. Though you look old, your mindset is younger than anyone’s!”

Sheng Mingzhi raised his voice toward the end.

“Running straight to a film festival to see your lover the moment you land. If people didn’t know better, they’d think I was dead! Should I praise you for getting younger as you age? Still so ‘vigorous’ at your advanced age?!”

Advanced age?

Vigorous?

Upon hearing these terms, a trace of absurd amusement appeared in Lu Jiayan’s eyes. In an instant, his already dwindling patience evaporated, leaving behind a touch of coldness.

Before he could respond, Sheng Mingzhi got angrier the more he thought about it. He felt this marriage truly couldn’t go on.

Being a “living widow for three years” was one thing, but now he was “branching out”? Did Lu Jiayan think he was restoring the imperial system with a harem of three palaces and six courtyards? He wasn’t even dead yet, and Lu Jiayan dared to slap his face by finding a side-piece outside.

The capricious Young Master Sheng was not someone to be easily dismissed.

The word “Divorce” was on the tip of his tongue, but Sheng Mingzhi hadn’t completely lost his mind. He forced himself to swallow it along with his rage. In a family like this, marriage was never something one could decide for themselves—and the same went for divorce.

The sudden argument ended with the sound of Sheng Mingzhi slamming the door hard. It was exactly like three years ago; even his way of expressing anger hadn’t changed a bit.

________________________________________

After the nighttime quarrel, they couldn’t continue the “loving couple” act. Sheng Mingzhi wasn’t thick-skinned enough to pretend to make up.

Fortunately, the Old Master had many social obligations tonight and didn’t notice the subtle, turbulent atmosphere between the young couple.

After several rounds of drinks, Lu Jiayan was somewhat tipsy, and the banquet drew to a close. After saying goodbye to Old Master Lu, Sheng Mingzhi and Lu Jiayan sat in a private Bentley, heading toward No. 1 Xishan Road in the city center.

No. 1 Xishan was a property under Shengjia, with only eight villas available for sale. Since getting married, Sheng Mingzhi had lived there—a two-story duplex French villa with front and back yards, surrounded by Moon Lake, backed by the International Trade Finance district, and adjacent to the Yunting Building. In the land-starved city of Yunjing, it ranked as the top of the ten great mansions.

The car ride was silent. Lu Jiayan closed his eyes, seemingly resting to sober up. Sheng Mingzhi, on the other hand, was busy fiddling with his phone. It was easy to guess he was “patrolling” his Weibo tags.

Clicking in, it was nothing but anti-fans insulting him in various ways. Today, they added new “black points”: mocking him for wearing “fakes” on the red carpet and having a “fashion clash” with Qiao Yan—concluding that whoever was uglier was the embarrassed one.

Sheng Mingzhi replied expressionlessly: “I can tell Qiao Yan is very embarrassed (Yellow heart emoji).”

Seeing Sheng Mingzhi acting out again. Using his main account to engage in public spats and sarcasm, the anti-fans immediately swarmed him. Among the hundreds of insults, one post suddenly caught Sheng Mingzhi’s eye.

“Lmao, it’s useless even if Sheng Mingzhi is throwing a tantrum. Is there anyone who doesn’t know Qiao Yan has already hooked into Lu Jiayan’s network?”

Sheng Mingzhi’s gaze froze on that post for two seconds.

________________________________________

Half an hour later, Lu Jiayan’s intoxication had mostly faded. Opening his eyes, he saw Sheng Mingzhi was still sulking. From his angle, he could see three-quarters of the other’s profile. His gaze was fixed outside the window; the neon lights of the night cast an ambiguous, hazy glow over him.

It had to be said, Sheng Mingzhi possessed an extremely captivating face. A little more would be too seductive, a little less would be too plain. He was just right—richly beautiful, flamboyant, and handsome.

Lu Jiayan had known Sheng Mingzhi since the boy was twelve. Initially, he was just a friend’s younger brother. In the blink of an eye, ten years had passed.

Suddenly, the brat who used to run behind him had become his spouse. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but Lu Jiayan’s heart softened for a moment. He temporarily forgot the unpleasantness from earlier and reclaimed some of his warmth as an elder.

When getting out of the car, Lu Jiayan did something unprecedented: he opened the door for Sheng Mingzhi first.

Still fuming, Sheng Mingzhi was stunned. Did the sun rise in the west today?

He looked at Lu Jiayan hesitantly. Is this a case of the “weasel greeting the chicken”—up to no good?

Out of a primal distrust of this “male fox spirit” full of bad ideas, Sheng Mingzhi’s reflex was to mentally review if he had offended him somewhere in the car.

Lu Jiayan waited a few seconds before Sheng Mingzhi finally stepped out. And even then, he looked at him with the wary eyes of a small animal.

As if guessing what Sheng Mingzhi was thinking, Lu Jiayan spoke lazily: “Didn’t you complain that I was ‘disrespecting my elders’?”

Sheng Mingzhi: “…”

Lu Jiayan’s tone was a bit drawn out, his voice deep yet clean, making one’s ears itch.

He said, “I’m ‘respecting the young’ now. Is that not allowed?”