My Husband's Eyes Have Been Looking Different Lately After Our Marriage of Convenience - Chapter 30

Chapter 30: How Do You Say We Slept Together?

Wang Ruijing was the first to notice.

Li Shang, being close by, discovered it soon after.

He exclaimed in shock, “Holy crap! Ai-ge, what are those marks under your neck??”

Song Ai’s eyelids jumped. He swallowed nervously, feigning composure as he muttered, “Mosquito bites.”

“What kind of mosquito takes a bite that big??” Li Shang was genuinely curious, leaning in to pull back the collar for a better look, only to be slapped away by Song Ai.

“Ignorant,” Song Ai said, trying to act nonchalant while pointedly tugging at his collar. He went on the offensive: “This is why you should’ve studied biology in high school. Who told you mosquitoes only leave small bumps?”

“…” Li Shang, whose highest biology score had been a 50, was instantly silenced. He could only mutter sheepishly, “Then what about your shirt? Do you want to go back and change?”

Remembering that Lu Tingyun was likely still at home, Song Ai immediately refused. “No need. I’m not that picky.”

It wasn’t like he hadn’t worn dirtier clothes before.

Wang Ruijing, who had been lingering in the shadows, suddenly spoke up: “I have a new shirt in my car that hasn’t been worn yet. Come change into it.”

Song Ai thought about it and didn’t refuse this time: “Alright.”

It really was uncomfortable wearing this.

The two of them walked out together.

Wang Ruijing’s car was parked in the underground garage—a modest, low-profile sedan that didn’t match his family’s actual wealth at all.

Wang Ruijing opened the car door, leaned into the back seat, and pulled out a bag containing a black long-sleeved shirt, perfect for the current season.

He handed the bag to Song Ai and signaled for him to get in.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to strip out here.”

Song Ai certainly wouldn’t.

He climbed inside with the clothes, his long limbs cramped in the back seat. His legs were so long he had to spread them against the back of the front seats. He grabbed the hem of his shirt with both hands, about to pull it up, but stopped at the last second.

He turned to Wang Ruijing and said, “Maybe you could close the door?”

Wang Ruijing’s lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he refrained. With a thud, he shut the door.

When Song Ai stepped out in the new clothes, he was a sight to behold.

He rarely wore such simple, casual clothes. Most of the time, he dressed like a “social butterfly”—flashy and eye-catching—which often caused people to overlook his exquisitely beautiful face. This minimalist black tee highlighted his beauty to the fullest.

Wang Ruijing stared for a moment before asking casually, “That bracelet the Lu family gave you—is the GPS still on?”

Song Ai didn’t understand why he brought it up, but he raised his wrist. “It’s never been off. Why?”

“Nothing.”

Just a reminder that because of this bracelet, you used to hate the Lu family—and Lu Tingyun—very much.

Wang Ruijing often spoke in riddles; Song Ai was used to it and didn’t bother pressing for details.

Sure enough, after a few steps, Wang Ruijing spoke again: “I heard from Big Mouth that you went to the Lu family estate today?”

“I came straight from there.”

“Are the Lus still the same?”

Song Ai rubbed his earlobe, his expression hesitant. “…More or less.”

Actually, thinking back, aside from Lu Haichuan and Cheng Chao, the others hadn’t really done anything to him—at most, they just didn’t speak to him. But then again, hadn’t he ignored them too?

The Old Matriarch had always been quite kind. Even Cheng Chao had been acting alright lately because of previous events.

Forget it.

Good or bad, it didn’t matter. He was going to cut ties with that family sooner or later anyway.

As Song Ai was lost in these calculated thoughts, a name suddenly pierced the air.

“What about Lu Tingyun?”

Song Ai’s eyelashes flickered slightly.

When Wang Ruijing asked about the Lu family earlier, he had subconsciously excluded Lu Tingyun. Now that the name was brought up, he really didn’t know what to say…

Seeing the lack of an immediate response, the “stone” in Wang Ruijing’s heart suddenly dangled precariously. He couldn’t help but probe: “You… nothing happened between you two, right?”

The word “happened” made Song Ai’s mind go blank for a second.

How do you say we slept together?

Is that the kind of thing you can just say??

Of course not.

He gave a light cough, his cheeks flushing, but his mouth remained stubborn. “What could possibly happen between me and Lu Tingyun? Why are you asking such nonsense?”

Wang Ruijing didn’t explain; he just turned to observe the young man’s expression.

Song Ai was an easy book to read; his mental state was always telegraphed through his face and behavior. Even though they weren’t exactly childhood friends, Wang Ruijing could see his current guilt.

He thought about pushing further, but without the catalyst of alcohol or other external factors, Wang Ruijing’s logic always maintained the upper hand.

He opened his mouth, but what came out was: “Just asking.”

One didn’t dare ask more; the other didn’t dare say a word.

The two of them fell into a mutual silence as they entered the elevator.

The elevator went straight to the KTV. Their private room was down a long corridor and around a corner. Just as they reached the turn, they ran into a familiar figure.

Zhou Jibai?

The moment he saw the hair, Song Ai almost thought he’d recognized the wrong person.

When did he dye his hair back?? Hadn’t it only been dyed for a short while?

While Song Ai was puzzled, Zhou Jibai looked over.

They weren’t particularly close—one at one end of the hall, one at the other. However, in Song Ai’s mind, this distance was nothing; back in middle school, even if they were across the entire sports field, Zhou Jibai could sprint over in seconds to start a fight.

He expected Zhou Jibai to be arrogant and provocative, just like the last few times.

Zhou Jibai did indeed walk over, whispering a few words to his friends before stepping forward.

But he didn’t seem to intend to provoke.

He stopped about half a meter away, his expression awkward and his greeting forced. “What are you doing here?”

Song Ai found it funny and replied in his usual sharp tone: “What else do people do at a KTV?”

“…” Zhou Jibai’s face reddened slightly, seemingly embarrassed by his poor performance. After a moment, he muttered, “When are you leaving?”

Song Ai clicked his tongue. “Leaving when we’re done singing.”

Zhou Jibai felt the answer was too dismissive. He began to get angry for no reason. “Can’t you talk to me properly?”

Song Ai was full of questions. “When am I not talking to you properly? Are you looking for trouble again?”

“When was I looking for trouble!” Zhou Jibai shouted, his voice echoing in the hallway. He coughed to hide his agitation, trying to calm down before stating his true purpose: “Can I… talk to you alone?”

Song Ai didn’t quite follow this pivot.

To prevent the guy from playing any dirty tricks, Song Ai asked, “What do you want to talk about?”

Zhou Jibai gave Wang Ruijing a strange look and pursed his lips. “Tell him to get lost, and then I’ll tell you.”

Tell who to get lost? Song Ai frowned. “Say it or don’t.”

“Let’s go.”

With that, Song Ai led Wang Ruijing right past Zhou Jibai.

“You mother—” Zhou Jibai almost cursed, but seeing his friend’s signaling gaze in the corner, he forced himself to swallow it.

He watched as Song Ai returned to the private room.

The friend emerged from the corner, his tone sounding somewhat disappointed. “Didn’t I tell you to speak more gently? Who are you trying to chase away with that fierce look?”

Zhou Jibai gritted his teeth. “What choice do I have? He goes against me every time. His words are infuriating—I want to speak nicely, but he’s just asking for a scolding!”

The friend: “…”

Truly a hopeless case.

But since he was being paid, he had to do his job. He advised, “Do you want to scold him more, or do you want to win him over?”

At those words, Zhou Jibai’s anger instantly deflated.

“Fine, I’ll change. But he went back inside. What do I do now? Should I go in after him?”

The friend pondered for a moment. “Better not. You just told his friend to get lost; he’s definitely angry. Going in now will only make it worse. Wait for another chance.”

“…”

…

Back in the room, Li Shang was already belt-out a rowdy folk song.

Song Ai slumped onto the sofa, his expression sour.

In terms of emotions, Wang Ruijing was much more sensitive than Song Ai. He had seen it back in high school—Zhou Jibai’s provocations were just a way to get Song Ai’s attention.

Back then, Zhou Jibai was in the neighboring class and would find any excuse to come to their class to pick a fight. Anyone with eyes could see who he was there for.

But Zhou Jibai’s method was too stupid. The more he teased Song Ai, the more Song Ai hated him.

Wang Ruijing didn’t take such an idiot seriously, but he didn’t mind stirring the pot a little more. “How does Zhou Jibai find you every single time? I’ve never seen someone so persistent.”

“Persistent” was one way to put it.

Song Ai didn’t disagree, replying emotionlessly, “Who knows.”

Thinking of Zhou Jibai’s dark hair, he couldn’t help but recall the past.

Due to sudden family changes, he had transferred schools at the age of ten. He remembered the day he reported to the new school; the sky was overcast and suffocating, much like his mood.

From the principal’s office to the classroom, he hadn’t shown a single pleasant expression.

Unfortunately, ten-year-old elementary students couldn’t read the room. His new seatmate, Zhou Jibai, first circled him three times, then asked seven or eight moronic questions out of curiosity.

Song Ai endured it in silence.

Until Zhou Jibai asked—”Why is your name Song Ai? Is it because you’re short (Ai)?”

Song Ai snapped, throwing a punch straight at the boy’s head.

Zhou Jibai wasn’t a pushover either. Getting hit for no reason meant he wasn’t going to take it lying down. The two quickly brawled, and thus the grudge was born.

Later, Song Ai realized he was in the wrong and went to apologize, but Zhou Jibai wouldn’t hear it, even mocking him for being a “fatherless kid.” They fought again that day, and the grudge deepened.

Zhou Jibai’s complaint earlier—”Can’t you talk to me properly”—wasn’t technically wrong. To this day, they truly had never had a peaceful conversation.

…

Wang Ruijing was still worried about his mother, so after karaoke, he went back to the hospital, ending the night early.

As a result, Song Ai returned to the Lu house before 8:00 PM.

Before entering, he glanced at the living room. The lights were on, but the sofa was empty.

Lu Tingyun isn’t back yet?

Great.

If he had the supplies, Song Ai would have set off fireworks to celebrate.

Just then, Butler Wu entered.

While changing his shoes, Song Ai asked casually, “Butler Wu, do we have any fireworks?”

Butler Wu shook his head. “What does Madam want those for?”

“To set them off.”

“Uh… is there something to celebrate?”

“Of course there—” Song Ai paused. Since there weren’t any, there was no point in explaining. He waved his hand. “Never mind. I’m a bit hungry. Is there anything to eat in the kitchen?”

He had come straight from the KTV and hadn’t eaten anything.

Butler Wu gave that mysterious smile again. “Yes, Madam, there is.”

Starving, Song Ai went straight to the kitchen.

He thought the food would be cold by now, but he found a large bowl of sea cucumber and chicken soup kept warm in the microwave. It smelled delicious enough to make him drool.

Song Ai drank three whole bowls.

Finally, he headed upstairs to play video games, his stomach round and full.

Perhaps because he had spent too much energy at the old estate yesterday, he only managed two rounds of League of Legends before he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He turned off the lights and went to sleep.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the hallway, there was a knock on the study door.

“Come in.”

Upon permission, Butler Wu pushed the door open respectfully. “Sir, you wanted to see me?”

Lu Tingyun moved his gaze away from the computer. Long hours of work had made his eyes incredibly weary. He pressed his brow, closed his eyes, and asked nonchalantly, “Where is the Madam?”

“He has already gone to sleep.”

“Already?” Lu Tingyun opened his eyes again. “This early?”

Doesn’t he usually stay up until two or three in the morning?

Butler Wu nodded and reported, “After the Madam came home, he drank three bowls of the soup you ordered to be made, then went upstairs. The lights are already out.”

“He drank three bowls?”

“Yes.”

Lu Tingyun curled his lip slightly. “He certainly has a good appetite.”

After a moment, he asked, “Did he say anything to you?”

Butler Wu recalled. “When he first came in, he asked if there were fireworks. I said no. I asked what he wanted them for, but he didn’t say.”

Lu Tingyun waited for two seconds. Not hearing what he wanted to hear, his voice carried a hint of suspicion. “That’s it?”

Butler Wu thought he caught a flicker of frustration on Lu Tingyun’s face. He replied hesitantly, “Yes, Sir.”

Lu Tingyun: “…”

He pinched the bridge of his nose firmly. “Fine. It’s late; go get some rest.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As Butler Wu left, he left the door slightly ajar. He had felt the study was stiflingly hot, like a giant furnace. Seeing the window was closed, he figured it just needed air and thoughtfully left a gap.

A gentle breeze blew in, pushing the door open a bit wider.

Having finished massaging his temples, Lu Tingyun opened his eyes and saw, through the crack in the door, a tightly shut bedroom door across the hall.

It was a very ordinary door. Before, he had never paid it any attention and wouldn’t spare it a glance when passing by.

Now, however, it seemed to possess a strange, magnetic pull.