My Husband's Eyes Have Been Looking Different Lately After Our Marriage of Convenience - Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Looks so squishable. I want to pinch it.

“Are you done yet?”

After only two seconds had passed, Song Ai asked impatiently.

He was unaware that Lu Tingyun’s gaze was currently resting on the fullest, roundest part of his lower back. If he knew, his entire body would undoubtedly turn beet red.

Lu Tingyun’s tone was almost coaxing. “Wait a bit longer; your back is quite long.” After all, he had shot up to 1.8 meters.

Song Ai thought to himself: Lu Tingyun is a head taller than me, so isn’t he even longer? He shifted uncomfortably and said, “Just take a look and be done with it. Don’t dawdle…”

He could even feel the texture of Lu Tingyun’s fingerprints on the back of his neck, making that bone feel both itchy and hot.

Damn Lu Tingyun, Song Ai thought, gritting his teeth.

Fortunately, the “electric current” didn’t last long. Lu Tingyun quickly withdrew his hand. The next few steps went by very fast. Since they were measuring over his clothes, Song Ai barely felt a thing.

Finally, they finished by measuring his height.

Lu Tingyun slowly retracted the measuring tape, announcing the completion of tonight’s task. “Done. You can go do other things now.”

Song Ai glanced at the tape, and the tips of his ears turned red involuntarily—as if he had seen some kind of “special equipment” he shouldn’t have. He immediately looked away and diverted the topic. “Don’t you need to write them down?”

Lu Tingyun said, “No.”

Song Ai: “Why?”

Lu Tingyun looked down and said indifferently, “I remember them.”

Shoulder width 45, waist 65, hips 90…

A simple string of numbers was child’s play for Lu Tingyun.

Fine. Straight-A students are just impressive. Song Ai stopped the awkward small talk and bolted.

He was so focused on running toward the stairs that he didn’t notice Lu Tingyun, behind him, raising the finger that had touched his vertebrae. He slowly brought it to the tip of his nose, as if trying to restrain himself but failing.

Finally, he took a greedy sniff.

…

The Day of the Shen Heiress’s Engagement Banquet.

Song Ai put on the rush-ordered suit and spun around in front of the mirror repeatedly. This was his first time wearing such a formal, well-fitting suit. He had worn one when he got his marriage certificate with Lu Tingyun, but that was because Ms. Song forced him.

Ms. Song’s exact words back then were: “Either a suit or just your underwear.”

But that suit was bought in a hurry. Song Ai was naturally thin with a smaller frame than most men his height, so it didn’t fit well. It looked almost comical, like a child wearing an adult’s clothes. Song Ai already disliked stiff, boring suits, and after that day, he loathed them.

He didn’t expect this rush-ordered one to make him look so… handsome. He actually looked quite respectable. Truly a custom-made piece.

Outside the room, Butler Wu knocked. “Madam, the car is waiting downstairs. Are you ready?”

“Ready, ready!” Song Ai yanked his tie straight and hurried out.

Butler Wu froze for a moment upon seeing him. “Madam, today you…”

Song Ai’s cheeks flushed slightly. Thinking the butler found the outfit weird—like a kid trying on new clothes—he asked uncertainly, “What is it? Does it look bad?”

“No,” Butler Wu smiled. “I was going to say you look very spirited today. You look wonderful.”

Spirited? Song Ai’s expression went blank. That was the first time anyone had described him that way. He remembered in primary school, because he was often late and disheveled with a messy red scarf, the security grandpa at the gate loved calling him “Little Slob.”

Who knew that after all these years, someone would say he “looked spirited.” Song Ai shifted his gaze uncomfortably, thought for a long time, and finally replied politely, “…Thank you.”

The two went downstairs.

Lu Tingyun was already waiting at the door. Unlike Song Ai’s cream-colored double-breasted style, his suit was deep black with stripes and single-breasted. The style was grander and sharper; overall, he looked steady, elegant, and possessed a powerful aura.

The moment Song Ai saw him, he couldn’t help but think: I should try not to stand too close to him later, otherwise the contrast will be way too sharp.

“We can depart, Young Master,” Butler Wu said.

Lu Tingyun didn’t speak or nod. He stared at Song Ai, looking him up and down for a while, before saying flatly, “Wait a moment.”

Waiting again? Song Ai thought this guy was so incredibly slow. Sure, it’s not your engagement, so you’re not in a hurry.

But before he could finish his mental grumbling, Lu Tingyun inexplicably walked toward him.

Song Ai: “?”

His instinct was to take a big step back, but he felt that would be embarrassing. If Lu Tingyun wants to come over, let him. It’s not like he’s going to assassinate me.

Being paranoid is for cowards. With that thought, Song Ai stayed perfectly still.

Lu Tingyun didn’t assassinate him. He simply reached out, pulled the tie from Song Ai’s chest, and said softly, “Your tie isn’t tied correctly.”

Song Ai blinked in confusion. He truly didn’t know how to tie one; he had just followed a tutorial video. “Teach you how to tie a suit tie in one minute—easy to master in front of a mirror.” If Lu Tingyun hadn’t pointed it out, he would have thought he was a natural talent.

“My apologies, Young Master, Madam,” Butler Wu immediately stepped up to take responsibility. “I failed to notice it immediately.”

“It’s not your fault.” Lu Tingyun lowered his eyelashes. The warm breath he exhaled as he spoke puffed against Song Ai’s face, causing Song Ai’s facial muscles to freeze.

Lu Tingyun’s movements were gentle but swift. He re-tied the tie in no time. After tucking it back into the suit jacket, he gave it a satisfied pat. Like… teasing a child after putting on their new clothes?

“There.”

Song Ai looked down. It indeed looked much neater and more beautiful than before. …Impressive skills. It seemed Lu Tingyun’s daily suit-wearing wasn’t for nothing.

It was getting late—only 40 minutes left before the time on the invitation—but they would make it.

They arrived exactly at 6:00 PM. As they walked side-by-side toward the lobby, they happened to see the Shen heiress holding her fiancé’s arm, walking toward the entrance.

Lu Tingyun suddenly said, “Take my arm.”

“Take”? Song Ai almost misunderstood for a second, but seeing Lu Tingyun’s already raised arm, he realized he meant “take his arm” (linking arms).

He felt a bit awkward. “Do we have to?”

“Yes.” Lu Tingyun’s tone was flat but left no room for argument. “It makes us look like a very loving couple.”

Song Ai: “…Isn’t ‘family harmony’ enough? Why do we have to show ‘love’??”

Lu Tingyun said naturally, “How can there be harmony without love?”

“That’s not necessarily true.” Despite saying that, Song Ai resigned himself and slid his hand into the crook of Lu Tingyun’s arm.

The two walked in “intimately.”

The heiress, Shen Yin, and Lu Tingyun were university alumni; they had been in the same club. Although they hadn’t kept in touch after graduation, they were familiar faces. They nodded to each other, Lu Tingyun handed over the invitation and gift, and led Song Ai inside.

Although it was only an engagement, the Shen family’s status in J-City was prominent. Even though the groom had an ordinary background, the scale of the banquet was huge—evident from the red carpet stretching from the deepest part of the lobby all the way to the sidewalk. The Shen family had booked the entire hotel.

Song Ai hung lazily on Lu Tingyun’s arm, surveyed the lobby decor, and remarked, “The Shens are quite wealthy. Even an engagement is this… gold and glorious. The wedding must be even more exaggerated.”

Lu Tingyun explained patiently, “Old Man Shen only has this one daughter, and he had her late in life, so he naturally dotes on her.”

Song Ai rolled his eyes and stopped talking. As they walked, because their strides weren’t synchronized, the distance between them began to widen. Lu Tingyun sensed this, deliberately paused his step, and when he moved again, he perfectly matched Song Ai’s frequency, causing their arms to fit together more snugly.

Song Ai didn’t notice this; he was just looking for familiar faces. The Shens must have invited a lot of people if they even invited the Lu family, who they rarely interacted with. Sure enough, 50 meters to his front left, he saw one—Wang Ruijing.

Like Song Ai, he was wearing a suit, but it was dark gray—a bit somber—making him look much more mature. Because of the crowd, Song Ai didn’t go over to greet him.

The guests hadn’t all arrived yet, making it the perfect time for business networking. Within ten minutes, five or six people had already come to toast with Lu Tingyun. Song Ai stood by, listening to their “business flattery,” not bothering to say a word. …Like a beautiful but mute vase.

Fortunately, these people didn’t really look at him. The business circle was small; no matter how the Song family explained it to the outside world, they couldn’t change the fact that they traded their son for investment. These people wanted to connect with the Lu family, but that didn’t mean they respected the Song family.

Song Ai didn’t care; it saved him the effort of talking. He was just a bit envious of the champagne on the waiters’ trays. It would have been fine if he hadn’t noticed them at first, but these waiters kept walking around the lobby with their trays. Hard to ignore.

By the time the eighth glass of champagne flew past his eyes, Song Ai finally couldn’t help but swallow.

“Drink if you want.”

Lu Tingyun’s voice suddenly sounded in his ear. Song Ai turned and found Lu Tingyun’s face was inches away—their noses almost brushed.

When did this guy lean in?!

Song Ai was so startled he took a big step back, as if terrified people would find out they were a couple. Lu Tingyun frowned, seemingly unhappy with the distance, but quickly recovered. Standing straight, he said flatly, “If you get drunk, I’ll take you back.”

The results of the last two times he got drunk were still vivid. Song Ai remembered the image of him climbing into Lu Tingyun’s bed the first time he drank too much; his cheeks flushed deeper. No, no, he would never let that mistake happen a second time! He was quitting alcohol!

“…Who wants you to take them back?” To prove his resolve, Song Ai turned and grabbed a waiter. “Hello, please get me a drink, thank you.” Spending time under the same roof as a “politeness freak” had taught him some manners.

Lu Tingyun: “…”

The waiter was a bit stunned. Aside from a few children brought by adults, this beautiful young man was the first adult to make such a request. Out of professional duty, the waiter asked, “Do you have a specific request for the drink?”

Song Ai shook his head. “No, as long as it’s non-alcoholic.”

Waiter: “O-okay.”

A short while later, the waiter returned with a bottle of orange soda in a nostalgic glass bottle, even featuring a cute cat sticker. “Sir, here is the drink you requested. Is Fanta okay?”

Song Ai grabbed it. “Perfect, perfect.”

He bit the straw and took a massive gulp, wetting his tongue, and then looked at Lu Tingyun triumphantly, his eyes full of non-aggressive defiance. …Like a puppy.

Lu Tingyun stared at his cheeks full of collagen. His subconscious thought was—Looks so squishable. I want to pinch it.

“Oh, President Lu! Long time no see, long time no see…”

Someone else came over to greet him. Lu Tingyun finally looked away and began the pleasantries. They chatted back and forth about everything from the banquet to business trends.

Although both were sole heirs of their respective families, Lu Tingyun’s status as the “sole successor” was the real deal. He could enter work mode at any moment—meticulous, rigorous, pragmatic, and visionary. Every word used to describe an elite fit him perfectly.

Song Ai stood quietly by, his canine teeth occasionally grinding on the straw. He couldn’t join the conversation, so he just drank. By the time the bottle was empty, the person finally left.

Song Ai thought about getting another glass so he wouldn’t be walking around with an empty bottle like an embarrassment. But then he heard Lu Tingyun say, “You don’t have to stay with me the whole time. You can wander around on your own.”

Song Ai looked at him in surprise. “Didn’t you say we need to leave an impression of ‘family harmony’ for Old Man Shen?”

Lu Tingyun looked down at their arms, which were still touching. A trace of reluctance flashed in his eyes, but he still said, “This much time should be enough to leave an impression.”

Hearing this, Song Ai didn’t hesitate for a second and immediately pulled his hand away. He had wanted to leave ages ago. Without waiting for further instructions or even saying “see you later,” he was already three meters away. It was as if his feet were greased.

Lu Tingyun watched his wife walk away until he became a blurry figure disappearing around the corner of the lobby. Only then did he thoughtfully withdraw his gaze.

Song Ai ducked into a hallway and opened a window to get some air, feeling much better. Then he sent a message to Wang Ruijing, telling him to come out and chat.

A few minutes later, Wang Ruijing arrived. He exposed his sharp-tongued nature the moment he spoke. “Don’t you need to accompany your husband for socializing?”

“…Don’t even mention it.” Song Ai took a resentful sip of Fanta and changed the subject. “Why are you here? Does the Wang family have ties with the Shens?”

Wang Ruijing replied, “Not the Shens. We’re here as guests on the groom’s side.”

Song Ai: “The groom?”

Mentioning the fiancé, Song Ai remembered that when he walked in with Lu Tingyun, he had accidentally made eye contact with the man. He couldn’t say what was wrong, but the man’s eyes felt… strange.

“Yeah,” Wang Ruijing nodded. “The fiancé’s name is Zhong Shaoxuan. He’s the son of my dad’s cousin, so he’s technically my cousin. His parents died early, and he doesn’t have many close elders. Since my dad is in J-City, he invited our whole family to support him… My mom wasn’t feeling well, so she didn’t come.”

Song Ai had no interest in learning more and gave a perfunctory “Oh.”

“By the way.” Wang Ruijing suddenly remembered someone. “There’s someone else here today. I wonder if you’ve seen him.”

Song Ai had a bad premonition and frowned. “Who?”

“Zhou Jibai.”

The moment Wang Ruijing finished speaking, a figure with flaming red hair appeared at the other end of the corridor.