My Husband's Eyes Have Been Looking Different Lately After Our Marriage of Convenience - Chapter 20

Chapter 20: What? You’re Going?

“Model Bro” (L) didn’t reply.

Ultimately, Li Shang called to confirm that the venue was open, and the two of them hopped into Li Shang’s car to head straight to rendezvous with Wang Ruijing.

While in the car, Song Ai sent a message to Housekeeper Wu, letting him know he’d be coming home late today.

Housekeeper Wu replied instantly: [Understood, Madam.]

Song Ai exited the interface and glanced down; that “L” still hadn’t replied.

The guy probably isn’t on the clock today.

It was a bit of a pity; he had originally intended to thank him again in person.

Putting his phone down, Song Ai noticed the familiar logo in the center of Li Shang’s steering wheel and asked, “You didn’t change your car?”

He’d heard Li Shang talking about trading it two months ago, yet he was still driving this old one.

Li Shang kept his eyes on the road and nodded. “Yeah. I thought about it—that coupe is cool and all, but it only seats two. I can’t carry both you and Lao Wang at the same time, so I passed. I’ll wait until I see something I like better.”

Song Ai commented, “You’re actually quite thoughtful.”

Li Shang grinned. “You bet.”

A moment later, Song Ai added, “Weren’t you a fan of my car? How about I just sell it to you?”

Li Shang gasped in shock. “Huh?”

That Ferrari of Song Ai’s was a gift from a mysterious, wealthy friend of his father’s on his 18th birthday. It was a limited global edition; most people couldn’t buy it even if they wanted to.

At the time, the man claimed he owed his father a favor he couldn’t return before and couldn’t return now, so to ease his mind, he gave it to Song Ai instead—a “father’s grace received by the son” sort of thing.

Song Ai hadn’t wanted it at first; he wasn’t that into cars. But once he heard it held its value incredibly well—and that the resale price only went up with time—he accepted it.

Over the years, many friends had asked about it, but he always brushed them off, saying he was too lazy to sell. Li Shang was one of them.

Even though it was also a two-seater, if Song Ai really wanted to sell, Li Shang wouldn’t hesitate. After all, that car was just too damn cool.

“Are you serious or joking?” Li Shang pressed.

Song Ai stared out the window for a moment but didn’t commit. “Just teasing. Talk to me in a couple of years when I’m bored of it.”

Li Shang: “…”

…

By the time they reached the entrance, Wang Ruijing was already waiting by the roadside.

This street was in a bustling downtown area with many old buildings nearby. There was no space for a parking lot, so they had simply designated street parking spaces where you could park at specific times.

Once the car was parked, Li Shang pulled a mysterious green object from the glove compartment while singing loudly:

“Heh heh heh, waited so long, finally the day is here~”

He pulled on an eye mask, and the “Pepe the Frog” (Sad Frog) meme became a reality. Black pupils paired with green eyelids and bulging eyeballs—it was eerie yet hilarious.

Song Ai glanced over and was nearly startled to death.

Li Shang, completely oblivious and lost in his own “artistry,” asked gleefully, “Ai-ge, look at my new eye mask. Isn’t it cute?”

“…” Song Ai was momentarily speechless. “Cute. Keep it away from me.”

Truly unable to handle being in the same space as a “Sad Frog,” Song Ai scrambled out of the car.

But once he was out, he started to worry.

His sunglasses were back in his own car, but since he hadn’t driven today, how was he going to get in?

He was about to ask Li Shang if there were spare sunglasses or masks in the car, but when he turned and faced Pepe’s swollen green eyes, Song Ai forced the words back down.

Fortunately, there was Wang Ruijing.

As Wang walked toward them, Song Ai asked, “Lao Wang, do you have sunglasses in your car?”

Wang Ruijing thought for a second and shook his head. “No sunglasses, but I have a spare mask.”

Song Ai: “A mask works too.”

So, ten minutes later, for the first time in his life, Song Ai entered the back door of M&C wearing a mask.

Wang Ruijing’s spare mask was golden, with an exaggerated style and complex lines; one half was even shaped like a wing, adorned with tiny feathers at the tip. It was incredibly flashy. Song Ai’s first instinct was to refuse, but unable to withstand his friend’s persuasion, he reluctantly put it on.

To his surprise, it suited him exceptionally well. His skin was fair, his face small, and his lips red against white teeth; paired with such a striking mask, he looked stunning.

Coincidentally, the staff members guarding the door were the same two as last time.

As one of them watched Song Ai walk in, his voice was full of surprise and excitement: “Isn’t that the Sunglasses Hottie?! He’s wearing a mask today!! He’s so handsome, ahhh!!!”

The other was already dazed, taking a long while to snap out of it.

“…Holy crap, the importance of defined facial features… Anyone else wearing that gold mask would look average, but this guy looks exactly like a noble prince from the last century in my imagination.”

…

There was no special performance today, so there were only half as many customers as last time.

The venue was called a “Mask Party,” but the primary entertainment wasn’t much different from other bars or KTVs. Too many people made it annoying; too few made it dull. Today was just right—not crowded, but not deserted.

This made Song Ai, who had been “playing dead” at home for two days, feel exceptionally refreshed. Consequently, he took it upon himself to go to the bar and order drinks.

Before he left, Li Shang asked in confusion, “Ai-ge, didn’t you swear to quit drinking last time?”

Wang Ruijing patted Li Shang’s shoulder and laughed. “Do you believe he’d quit drinking, or do you believe I’m the First Emperor of Qin?”

Song Ai: “…”

Despite being caught red-handed, Song Ai remained stubborn. “Can’t I just order for you two?”

Wang Ruijing nodded “Mhm mhm” on the surface, but his face was full of disbelief.

Song Ai didn’t bother arguing and turned toward the bar. The perk of fewer people was that there was no long queue, and he could even ask the bartender for a custom mix.

There were only two people in front of him, so Song Ai stood lazily behind them. He wasn’t one for eavesdropping, but their conversation reached his ears anyway—

“A bottle of whiskey, two brandies on the rocks, and a fruit platter. Send it up to booth 333.”

“Ah… Young Master Zhong~ are we really going to drink something that strong? I have a low tolerance; what if I get drunk?”

“If you get drunk, I’ll take you back.”

“I don’t want that! If my parents see me, I’m doomed.”

“Then… to a hotel?”

“Ah~ you’re so bad~~”

Song Ai: “…”

He was hesitating whether to remind these two to keep it down, but they left the bar first. However, a few more lines still caught him off guard—

“Wanna head to the restroom now?”

“Don’t be in such a rush, Young Master Zhong~”

“You’re teasing me to death, baby…”

Song Ai: “…………”

Barely suppressing the urge to gag, Song Ai finished ordering the drinks and went upstairs, complaining with a darkened face: “I should come to this place less often.”

Li Shang: “What happened?”

Song Ai: “I went down for a drink and my ears got filthy.”

Wang Ruijing paused, remembering the two men he’d seen walking with their arms around each other earlier. He quickly guessed the reason and consoled him, “Eh, the world is full of wonders. Since this place focuses on ‘mystery,’ it always attracts a crowd looking for a thrill.”

Hearing this, Song Ai stared at him for a few seconds.

Wang Ruijing thought his advice had been thought-provoking and was about to elaborate further when he heard the other ask out of the blue: “Is that cousin of yours, Zhong Shaoxuan, gay?”

If Song Ai hadn’t misheard, one of those men just now was definitely surnamed “Zhong.” Remembering the two times Zhong Shaoxuan’s gaze had seemed off at the heiress’s engagement party, Song Ai felt his suspicion wasn’t baseless.

Wang Ruijing wasn’t sure and shook his head. “He’s a distant relative at best; I’ve only met him a few times.” Seeing Song Ai’s furrowed brow, he pressed, “Why do you ask?”

Song Ai hesitated, thinking there was no harm in saying it. Just as he was about to speak, the phone in his palm vibrated.

He instinctively looked down.

It was a message from “L”—

[What? You’re going?]

Is this guy just starting his shift?

Song Ai pursed his lips, looked away, and explained, “Nothing. Just saw a couple of touchy-feely gays downstairs, and one of them felt like Zhong Shaoxuan, so I was wondering.”

Li Shang was still in a daze, wondering Who the hell is Zhong Shaoxuan?

Wang Ruijing, however, had noticed the momentary change in Song Ai’s eyes when he checked the message. He didn’t ask about it, though, simply following the topic: “But isn’t Zhong Shaoxuan already engaged? Are you worried…”

Song Ai: “I wouldn’t say ‘worried.’ But if it’s convenient, could you poke around and ask about him later?”

Wang Ruijing agreed readily: “Sure.”

After settling the matter in a few sentences, Song Ai felt tired. He flopped onto the sofa, sinking into it almost completely. The white light from the phone reflected on his face as he stared at it, seemingly lost in thought.

This “L” probably wasn’t a regular employee here. Since last time was a “special performance,” then that group of men in suits—including “L”—were likely just temporary hires by the boss.

And the fact that the message used the word [going] instead of [coming] further proved this point.

Since he wasn’t a regular, he likely wouldn’t see him today.

Thinking this, Song Ai didn’t really feel like replying. After all, they’d only met once. Although he wasn’t sure if the guy was the “selling his body” type, it wasn’t good to get too tangled up with people like that.

Song Ai simply tossed the phone aside.

Aside from the good atmosphere, M&C played the right kind of music—not the headache-inducing loud stuff, but not so soft that it made you sleepy. Sitting there in the dim light, Song Ai felt a wave of pleasant relaxation.

The drinks he ordered were soon delivered.

Glass after glass was placed on the table, taking up more than half of it. There was no way this was a quantity for just two people.

Li Shang and Wang Ruijing shared a smile. The three of them, in silent understanding, clinked their glasses.

After a Margarita, Song Ai felt the numb, decaying bones of his two-day “corpse-like” existence come back to life.

Li Shang was even more dramatic, nearly jumping off the sofa. “Awesome! Every second in that hospital I was thinking about this. This is the stuff!”

Wang Ruijing joked, “Why didn’t you bring a couple of bottles to the hospital? Grandma Li dotes on you so much; she definitely wouldn’t scold you.”

Li Shang gave him a dry laugh.

Song Ai muttered “idiot” under his breath, but the curve of his lips never wavered.

Even though he’d only been back in the country for six months, his life during his time studying abroad felt like it was a century ago. Song Ai… couldn’t even really remember much of it.

Forget it, it wasn’t a happy past anyway.

Song Ai lowered his eyelids, a brief moment of gloom crossing his face before it was quickly wiped away. He picked up a custom of Tequila, joining the “idiot” team, and shouted: “Tonight, we don’t go home until we’re drunk!”

“Until we’re drunk!”

“Until we’re drunk!”

…

An hour passed, and the table was nearly cleared.

Perhaps because he hadn’t drunk in a while, drinking so much suddenly made Song Ai feel dizzy. The people and objects in front of him began to blur into doubles.

Li Shang drank even harder than he did. By now, he’d entered a state of madness, grabbing a throw pillow to use as a guitar and planting a foot on the edge of the table, strumming and singing wildly to the beat of the music.

Even Wang Ruijing, who drank the least and slowest, had a flush blooming across his cheeks. He stared at Song Ai, his gaze growing increasingly hazy.

Actually, Wang Ruijing had always kept a secret in his heart. He was a cautious man who never spoke of it, much less let anyone notice. But because he had hidden it so long and so deep, by the time he wanted to say it, he suddenly realized it might be too late.

Alcohol often has a way of infinitely amplifying emotions and desires. In a state of relaxation, the things one usually dares not say or do are easily triggered by this damnable catalyst—stirring, blurring the mind… until the string called “reason” snaps completely.

His gaze was so intense that it actually made Song Ai look back at him.

Taking this as encouragement and a response, Wang Ruijing licked his lips, deciding to say something. However, before he could open his mouth, he heard Song Ai speak first, calling out abruptly:

“Model Bro?”