My Husband's Eyes Have Been Looking Different Lately After Our Marriage of Convenience - Chapter 12

Chapter 12: “I’ll measure you personally later…”

Spring has arrived, and the branches are growing wildly.

In just an instant, Lu Tingyun’s gaze returned to normal. It was so fast that Song Ai even thought it was his own hallucination. Besides, the man’s expression showed no discernible clues.

Maybe he was overthinking it.

Faced with Lu Tingyun’s “ice block” face, Song Ai couldn’t be bothered to ponder further and squeezed out a smile. “Morning.”

Lu Tingyun withdrew his gaze indifferently. “Not early.”

Song Ai: “…”

Wait, something’s not right.

Song Ai had a sudden flash of inspiration and asked righteously: “Why are you still at home at this hour?”

Usually at this time, whether it was wind, rain, hail, lightning, scorching heat, or bitter cold, shouldn’t this total workaholic be at the office? Why was he acting out of character today?

Oh, wait—the other day was like this too… but that was for a “special reason” Song Ai didn’t want to recall.

Lu Tingyun, of course, wasn’t going to tell Song Ai that he actually got back even later than Song Ai did last night.

President Qian had insisted on watching the entire performance. If Lu Tingyun had refused from the start, it would have been fine, but since he didn’t, he had to wait patiently until the show ended before they could even start talking about the contract. President Qian made him watch three hours of a show, so naturally, he made President Qian talk about the contract for three hours.

Since he returned so late, in order to guarantee eight hours of healthy sleep, he naturally woke up late the next day.

Taking a break from his reading, Lu Tingyun said casually: “I’m in a bad mood.” This was the truth, not a lie.

Song Ai: “?”

666 (Impressive). He’s not even making an effort to be salty.

Being in a “bad mood” could serve as a reason to skip work? Damned capitalism—such freedom was truly enviable!

But Song Ai didn’t have the guts to say his thoughts out loud; after all, he was about to eat the Lu family’s Pig Stomach and Chicken Soup. So, he just gave a cold snort and turned toward the dining room.

After breakfast, Song Ai planned to go upstairs to change out of his pajamas. Since both the elevator and the stairs were in the living room, he had to bite the bullet and head back that way.

Lu Tingyun hadn’t left; he hadn’t even shifted his sitting position. Only the ashtray on the coffee table next to him was a bit fuller.

…Lu Tingyun smokes?

Song Ai had this sudden question. Before that night, he rarely paid attention to his husband-in-name-only, let alone noticed if he smoked… However, that night when their tongues were entwined, he didn’t seem to smell any smoke…

Stop, stop, stop!

Why am I remembering this again?!

Song Ai practically wanted to punch his own head to remind it who the master was. Forcing the X-rated images out of his mind, he raised a foot to start up the stairs. Before he could step on the first stair, Lu Tingyun’s voice drifted over.

“Can you accompany me to a banquet the day after tomorrow?”

Song Ai paused. Is he talking to me?

He turned back toward the living room and found Lu Tingyun staring at him.

Song Ai pointed to himself. “Me?”

Lu Tingyun raised an eyebrow and asked back: “Do I have a second wife?”

Song Ai: “…”

It wasn’t his fault for asking; after all, he hadn’t accompanied Lu Tingyun to any events before. But in the agreement they signed, there was indeed a clause stating: If special circumstances require either party to appear, they must not refuse without a valid reason.

For a wealthy household like the Lu family, there were countless banquet invitations. Even if Song Ai hated social events, he knew he’d have to show up a few times to keep up appearances for the Lu family. Otherwise, how could he be worthy of the massive sum of money they gave him?

But Song Ai still wanted to struggle a bit. Since the agreement said “special circumstances,” he asked tentatively: “Do I have to go?”

Lu Tingyun’s emotionless expression said it all.

He withdrew his gaze and explained with eyes downcast: “The Group wants to cooperate on a business deal with the Shen family recently. But the man in power, Old Man Shen, has an eccentric personality; he likes partners with harmonious family relationships. If we attend his daughter’s engagement banquet together, it will leave a much better impression.”

It looked like there was no room for negotiation.

Song Ai yielded. “…Oh.”

If he had to go, he’d go. It was no big deal—he’d just treat it as a free meal.

Song Ai was an optimist; he quickly talked himself into it and agreed readily. “Fine.”

With that, he started up the stairs again. The day after tomorrow’s problems were for the day after tomorrow; today, he still had to play.

But a second later, Lu Tingyun spoke again: “Even though it’s just an engagement banquet, we still need to dress formally. If you agree, I’ll arrange for someone to come over this afternoon to take your measurements and make a custom suit for you.”

Song Ai curled his lip. “Does it have to be this afternoon?”

Lu Tingyun looked up at him with composure. “Why? Do you have plans this afternoon?”

“…Yeah.” Song Ai scratched his head. It counted as a plan, right? After all, the gaming season is ending tomorrow. If he didn’t grind some ranked matches today, he wouldn’t make it to 50 stars.

Lu Tingyun stared at his guilty face for two seconds and didn’t push. “Then tonight.”

…

Thanks to Lu Tingyun, Song Ai performed exceptionally well in the afternoon. He played ten solo ranked matches, won nine, and even the one he lost, he was the MVP of the losing side, so he didn’t lose any points.

Seeing himself quickly climb to the number one spot on his friend list leaderboard, Song Ai’s mood became so bright that when he walked through the door at night, his smile was harder to suppress than an AK-47.

When Butler Wu was seeing a guest out, he saw Song Ai like this and asked curiously: “Good evening, Madam. Your complexion looks exceptionally rosy; is there some happy news?”

Song Ai touched his own face, thinking it was probably because he was holding his breath while passionately trash-talking people in the Rift, which made his face red. Embarrassed to tell the truth, he just smiled and said: “It’s nothing, my face just gets red easily.”

Butler Wu gave a few “ohs,” and not knowing what he was thinking, he quickly lowered his head and continued seeing the guest out.

Song Ai glanced at the guest who was leaving in a hurry. Unfamiliar face; he didn’t recognize them. He didn’t care much and stepped into the living room, only to find Lu Tingyun was still there.

He was like an NPC who wouldn’t refresh his location. And the kind that kept a stiff face all day, too.

Hearing the sound of shoes being changed, Lu Tingyun turned to look at him. His eyes and the corners of his mouth finally showed a bit of change, but he said nothing, just staring at him without moving.

Do I have to be the one to ask? Song Ai thought miserably.

However, Song Ai couldn’t hold out for long. After dawdling while changing into his slippers, he finally couldn’t help himself and asked crossly: “Spit it out.”

Whenever his friends were being coy, Song Ai would directly throw those words at them. But this time, the person being coy was Lu Tingyun. He probably hadn’t said a vulgar word in his life; Song Ai wondered if he would be offended.

While Song Ai was imagining a long string of scenarios, Lu Tingyun finally said cryptically: “You didn’t come back at a good time.”

Song Ai frowned: “What do you mean ‘not a good time’?”

Why did that sound so strange? Did Lu Tingyun cheat on him? Was the “other person” still in the house?

Lu Tingyun sat down slowly, revealing the items on the table behind him. “The tailor who was here to take measurements just left.”

Song Ai: “…That’s it?”

If he’s gone, he’s gone. Can’t he come back next time?

“Yes, that’s it.” Lu Tingyun picked up his teacup and took a sip. “The tailor is gone, and there’s no one to take your measurements, so…”

He paused. “I’ll measure you personally later.”

Song Ai: “???”

The smile from his gaming win streak instantly vanished. Song Ai was filled with regret and tried to save the situation: “Is it too late to call him back now?”

“Too late,” Lu Tingyun said flatly, his tone carrying a slight, rare hint of schadenfreude. “An emergency came up at his home and he had to go back immediately. You probably couldn’t call him back even for triple the price.”

Song Ai: “…”

“What about measuring tomorrow then?” he asked again.

“Too late.”

“Why too late?”

“Customizing a suit takes time. The banquet is the day after tomorrow.”

Song Ai was speechless, his face as pale as if he’d been sentenced to death. If he had known, he wouldn’t have gone out this afternoon… Truly, games are harmful.

Even though two days had passed since “that incident,” and even though Song Ai was usually thick-skinned, the awkwardness had mostly faded by now.

BUT!

The act of measuring for clothes—you didn’t even have to think to know that physical contact or skin contact was unavoidable! AAAAAHHH!!!

Song Ai didn’t consider himself a prude, but at the thought of being… “cuddly” with Lu Tingyun? Could he use that word? Anyway, he felt it was weird. An indescribable kind of weird.

Seeing his nervous and rejecting expression, Lu Tingyun didn’t force him and said considerately: “If you’re unwilling to let me help you, we can switch to Butler Wu.”

He then added: “It’s just that Butler Wu is getting on in years; the measuring might not go very smoothly later. But it’s okay, a little trouble doesn’t matter.”

Song Ai: “…”

It would have been fine if he hadn’t said that last part. Saying it like that made Song Ai’s face turn even redder from shame.

“Why bother an elder?” Song Ai hardened his heart, adopting a “do or die” attitude. “You measure me.”

They’d already experienced “negative distance”; what was there to fear from “close distance”?

Song Ai secretly clenched his fists, giving himself a pep talk. He thought that if Lu Tingyun tried to feel him up or made him feel itchy again, he’d just give him two solid punches.

But he was just thinking. As he walked toward Lu Tingyun with his neck tucked in, he was as well-behaved as a little puppy.

Lu Tingyun was picking up the measuring tape from the table. Estimating the distance between himself and where Song Ai had stopped, he hooked a finger and said: “You’re standing too far away. Come closer.”

Song Ai stared at that finger and gritted his teeth. “Are you teasing a dog?”

Lu Tingyun’s movement stalled. He couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh and explained: “No, it really is too far. Have you ever seen anyone measure height from a meter away?”

Song Ai wasn’t convinced. “Can’t you just walk closer?”

Lu Tingyun: “The TV is right behind you; it’s more spacious on my side.”

Talking to educated people always made it easy to lose out. Song Ai gritted his teeth in frustration but still stiffened his neck and took a step forward.

Satisfied, Lu Tingyun didn’t waste any more time. He stretched out the measuring tape and aimed it at Song Ai’s neck.

Song Ai was startled. “You…”

Before the rest of “are you going to strangle me” could come out, Lu Tingyun explained first: “This is to determine the collar circumference.”

Song Ai blinked. He shut up.

Lu Tingyun’s movements weren’t exactly skilled; he had likely just learned from the tailor who left. But he knew more than a completely ignorant Song Ai, so Song Ai did whatever he was told. Lift your hands? He lifted them. Close your legs? He closed them. He was extremely obedient.

After measuring the waist, Lu Tingyun instructed: “Turn around.”

Song Ai asked as he turned: “Why turn around?”

Lu Tingyun: “To measure shoulder width.”

Whether it was intentional or not, Lu Tingyun hadn’t touched Song Ai while measuring the collar, chest, and waist—luckily, those could be seen by tightening the tape.

But shoulder width was different. From one side to the other, the tape had to be pressed firmly against the shoulder blades on the back for the data to be accurate. Therefore, he needed to hold it down with his fingertips.

Through the thin fabric of the shirt, the pressure of Lu Tingyun’s fingers was light, but the sensation was heavy. That mysterious itchiness started to rise again. It wasn’t too strong, though. Song Ai was conflicted about whether to move.

Fortunately, Lu Tingyun withdrew his fingers as soon as he finished and took a polite step back.

“Shoulder width 45,” Lu Tingyun said.

Song Ai had no concept of the number. “Is that wide?”

Lu Tingyun: “Very narrow.”

Song Ai wasn’t having it. “What’s yours?”

Lu Tingyun: “58.”

Song Ai: “…”

He yielded. But Lu Tingyun worked out regularly—of course it was wide! It was only natural.

Before Song Ai could decide whether he should start working out, Lu Tingyun stepped closer again to measure other areas. He stretched the tape but didn’t start immediately.

“Next is the back length.”

Lu Tingyun suddenly began to explain, though his voice had become somewhat husky. He said: “The starting point for this step is the prominent vertebrae at the back of the neck. So, I’ll touch you here… is that okay?”

Hearing this, the tips of Song Ai’s ears turned red. His clothes were always loose, and his collars were wide; let alone the vertebrae in the back, his collarbones in the front were never covered.

But what must come, will come. Eventually, it was unavoidable to reach this step. He feigned composure and said: “Go ahead and touch.”

“Okay.”

Although he had prepared himself mentally, when Lu Tingyun’s burning fingertips touched him, Song Ai still couldn’t stop his scalp from going numb. It was like an electric current rushing all the way from the seventh cervical vertebra (C7) at the top down to his coccyx at the end.

Are Lu Tingyun’s fingers electrified?

Song Ai felt as if his very bones were being shocked into numbness.