My Husband's Eyes Have Been Looking Different Lately After Our Marriage of Convenience - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: So Strange… It Even Felt Kind of Good

A dreamless night.

When Song Ai woke up from his drunken stupor, he felt nothing but aches in his waist and back. His neck, in particular, felt painfully stiff, as if he had a severe case of wryneck.

He reached up to rub the back of his neck, only to touch a hand with distinct, bony knuckles.

A hand?

Where did a hand come from?

Wasn’t his other hand resting next to his backside??

Song Ai snapped awake. He turned his head and found a hand that was longer and rougher than his own. It looked familiar… wait, was it… Lu Tingyun’s?!

Why was Lu Tingyun’s hand here?!

Song Ai jerked his head up, and sure enough, the man’s familiar face was right before his eyes.

The youth’s eyes widened in shock. Why was Lu Tingyun in his bed?!

Fragments of memory began to surface, and Song Ai realized belatedly—

He and Lu Tingyun… did it last night?!

And it was the kind of intense session that went on for several rounds!!

The level of shock from this was a hundred times more explosive than losing 15 gaming matches in a row. Song Ai felt like his world was collapsing.

Finished. It’s all over.

Under the influence of alcohol, he actually slept with Lu Tingyun! And he was the one who shamelessly forced the issue! If word got out, people would laugh their heads off!

Song Ai didn’t even dare to recall how loud he had screamed last night. He scrambled out of bed, frantically grabbed his clothes and underwear, and practically crawled/ran out of the master bedroom in a panic.

…

The moment he bolted, the man lying on the bed—who had been awake for who knows how long—opened his eyes.

The man had deep features and a high bridge to his nose. Usually, this face was as cold as a thousand-year-old glacier, and his narrow, thin eyes were famously detached and emotionless.

Right now, as he stared at the door, his gaze was somewhat hazy and lingering.

Unlike Song Ai, who felt like his body was being pricked by a thousand needles, Lu Tingyun felt an unprecedented sense of physical and mental relief.

In the twenty-six years of his life, most of his time had been consumed by studying and working. Even occasional leisure time was filled with busy trifles. He had tried various forms of entertainment—golf, swimming, board games—and even violent video games that were supposedly high-rated for adrenaline spikes, but none of it interested him.

But last night…

The things that happened with Song Ai last night were something he was still savoring even now.

It was very strange.

So strange… it even felt kind of good.

…

Whether it was out of shame or something else, Song Ai found a random guest room to get dressed in and then huddled inside, refusing to come out.

He didn’t know if Lu Tingyun was up yet, so he was terrified of running into him the moment he stepped out. Even though they lived in the same villa and were bound to meet eventually, he just didn’t want to—at least not today… or tomorrow. Actually, it would be best if they never met again for the rest of their lives!

Moreover, Lu Tingyun had put him through the wringer several times last night. His whole body was so sore he didn’t want to move a muscle.

Song Ai lay on the guest bed in a state of “letting himself rot,” planning to catch up on sleep and rest. During this time, Old Wang called him several times.

Song Ai was too lazy to answer. Besides, his throat was incredibly raspy; swallowing air felt like swallowing knives. He decided to switch to WeChat.

[Song Ai]: What’s up?

[Wang Ruijing (Voice Message)]: Brother Ai, what are you doing? Why aren’t you answering?

[Song Ai (Faking it)]: Someone is next to me.

[Wang Ruijing (Typing)]: Your husband?

Song Ai: “…” He lost his patience: [Song Ai]: Spit it out.

Wang Ruijing knew the cardinal sin with this young master was beating around the bush, so he quickly replied: [Wang Ruijing]: Nothing much, just checking in on you. You drank so much yesterday, did anything happen after you got home?

Looking at that sentence, the scene of him proactively leaning in to kiss Lu Tingyun last night involuntarily surfaced in Song Ai’s mind.

He had kissed Lu Tingyun—clumsily, without experience, just a light touch against the other’s lips. At that moment, Song Ai had been dazed; it felt like fireworks exploding in his head. Before he could even pull back, Lu Tingyun had already pressed a hand against the back of his head, returning the kiss with much more force.

Then, Lu Tingyun’s other hand had grabbed his thigh, pulling him into his embrace. Song Ai had naturally straddled him, his body trembling and rubbing against him instinctively…

Song Ai felt numb. He shook his head violently to cut off the memory. With a blank expression and a beet-red face, he typed: [Song Ai]: You don’t know my tolerance? What could possibly happen?

It took a long time for Wang Ruijing to reply.

[Wang Ruijing]: Alright then. Want to come out for food later? A new Northeastern BBQ place opened near my house, heard it’s killer.

Usually, the idle Song Ai would have leapt up and grabbed a jacket immediately. But right now, he really… couldn’t “get up.”

What the hell. He had never heard of Lu Tingyun having a dating history; how was he so naturally gifted in this department? Although his mind was a mess last night, he clearly remembered how long the man had lasted…

Could it be that Lu Tingyun was secretly keeping a “Third Party” outside? Acting abstinent on the surface while practicing every day?

The more Song Ai thought about it, the more he felt it was possible. If he was keeping someone, he was definitely “practicing.”

In the past, he wouldn’t have cared. But not now—because Lu Tingyun had been inside him! What if Lu Tingyun was keeping someone sketchy?

Song Ai felt a lingering fear. It was all because he was too impulsive yesterday! Now that the deed was done, he couldn’t exactly ask after-the-fact: “Do you have a lover outside?” “Does your lover get regular checkups?” “Do YOU get regular checkups?”

…Right?

No. Just in case, he needed to get a checkup immediately.

[Song Ai]: Not going. I have things to do today.

After sending the message, Song Ai stepped onto the floor barefoot. His slippers were left in the master bedroom; he was in such a rush to flee that he hadn’t had time to put them on. Fortunately, the upstairs was fully carpeted, and since the weather was warming up, it wasn’t too cold.

He pressed his ear to the door and glanced around—no one. Not even a fly.

Lu Tingyun should have left for the company by now. That guy was a total workaholic who wouldn’t even give himself a break on holidays.

However, just to be safe, Song Ai chose the stairs. But the marble texture was cold and hard; the second he stepped on it, he was freezing. He couldn’t help but let out a small “hiss” and yanked his foot back.

At that moment, a deep, magnetic voice sounded behind him: “Do as I just instructed. Order them to start working. Call me if there are any emergencies; I won’t be coming into the office today.”

Song Ai’s back stiffened.

The man had clearly noticed him. After hanging up, his footsteps stopped.

Song Ai had no choice but to slowly turn around. He didn’t look at Lu Tingyun’s face at first.

He figured the expression would be one of two things:

Dark-faced because Song Ai had been unreasonable and forced him into bed last night.

Dark-faced because Song Ai had pulled up his pants and left without a word this morning.

He had never seen Lu Tingyun make a pleasant face, so these were logical deductions.

But Lu Tingyun didn’t speak. That was a bit scary.

Song Ai hung his head like a child who had done something wrong. He thought to himself: Is it really worth being this angry? You just got forced into a night of sleep by your own wife.

However, knowing he was in the wrong, he decided that if Lu Tingyun accused him of “harassing an honest man,” he wouldn’t talk back.

The next second, Lu Tingyun asked, “Why aren’t you wearing shoes?”

Song Ai blinked, looked down at his curling toes, then up at Lu Tingyun. He found the man’s gaze fixed on his feet, unmoving.

He wasn’t wearing shoes, and his pajama pants were a bit short, revealing half of his pink ankles… probably pink from the cold.

But that wasn’t the point. Song Ai didn’t want to tell the truth—”running away in terror” was too embarrassing—so he made up a lie: “The slippers are too old. I don’t like them.”

Hearing this, Lu Tingyun’s gaze moved up. He noticed Song Ai’s shifty eyes but didn’t expose him. He simply followed along: “Then tell someone to buy new ones.”

As if thinking that sounded too cold, Lu Tingyun added: “There’s been a cold snap lately. The floor is cold; you’ll catch a cold if you go barefoot.”

Song Ai nodded with a wooden face. This was a completely different attitude from the two times he had nodded last night.

Lu Tingyun scrutinized his rebellious appearance. Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as if he had something to say, but in the end, he remained silent and took the elevator downstairs.

Once he was sure Lu Tingyun wouldn’t come back up, Song Ai dashed back into the master bedroom, found his slippers, and shoved both feet in simultaneously.

How could he think his slippers were old? These slippers were fantastic! His feet had almost frozen off just now.

After soaking up the warmth of the plush slippers, Song Ai scanned his territory. Aside from the slightly wrinkled sheets, the rest of the room was as usual—messy. Messy enough to give someone with OCD a headache.

But Song Ai was happy. Like a kitten full of security, he tilted his chin up proudly. No matter how orderly the Lu family was, they couldn’t stop this room from being his private domain. No matter how messy it was, the neat-freak Lu Tingyun had no right to complain.

It was one of the few spaces where he was completely the boss.

Gurgle—

His empty stomach suddenly sounded an alarm. Song Ai rubbed his belly, feeling regretful. If he’d known, he would have agreed to go to a BBQ with Wang Ruijing.

But there should be food downstairs. The Lu family’s auntie prepared a lavish breakfast every morning. No matter if the masters ate it or not, it would “refresh” on schedule. Song Ai deeply suspected that aside from appearances, everyone in the Lu household was carved from the same mold as Lu Tingyun.

However, he usually came home drunk and didn’t wake up until noon, leaving immediately to hang out. In the past six months, he hadn’t “favored” the Lu family breakfast even once.

If I go to eat now, will it be embarrassing?

Gurgle-gurgle—

As Song Ai hesitated, his stomach protested again: “If you don’t put something inside me, I’ll die right here.”

Fine, fine. You need a full stomach to have the strength for a checkup.

Song Ai made up his mind. He opened his phone, booked an appointment at the Dermatology Department of the City People’s Hospital, stuffed his phone in his pocket, and went downstairs in his limited-edition green crocodile slippers.

…

When Song Ai reached the dining room, Lu Tingyun was already eating. He held his tri-fold phone in one hand and a sandwich in the other, swallowing slowly. His movements were elegant and noble, looking like the gentlemen Song Ai used to see having afternoon tea by the Thames.

Song Ai stared for a bit too long. So long, in fact, that he didn’t hear Butler Wu’s respectful greeting.

“Good morning, Madam.” Butler Wu bowed again and asked, “What would you like to eat? Anything not on the table, you can ask the auntie to make for you.”

Song Ai snapped out of it and said weakly, “Anything is fine, Uncle Wu. I’m starving.”

Song Ai’s voice carried a unique youthful quality—clean and clear. Even when he was being impolite, it didn’t feel offensive. Right now, because he was hungry, his voice had a bit of a “clingy” quality. The nearly 50-year-old Butler Wu couldn’t help but dote on him: “Then you can start with that bowl of fresh noodle soup on the table; it was just served. I’ll go check the kitchen for the steamed abalone and deer antler, and bring them out shortly.”

Song Ai nodded. “Okay.”

He walked over and sat down directly across from Lu Tingyun. Since they had already met upstairs and finished the awkward process, Song Ai’s state of mind was much more stable. That was the benefit of being heartless.

Lu Tingyun didn’t look up the entire time. The two were in a tacit silence, broken only by the subtle sounds of swallowing delicious food.

However, as Song Ai ate, he started getting annoyed. The chair design was flawed—wide in the front, narrow in the back, high in the middle, and low on the sides. Keeping his legs together was impossible, and spreading them felt awkward. No matter how he sat, it was uncomfortable.

At first, he restrained himself because of Lu Tingyun. Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. Song Ai simply lifted one leg, stepped on the chair, rested his knee against the edge of the table, and propped his arm on top.

The sequence of movements was fluid. It wasn’t pretty, but it felt great!

Song Ai felt much better, but he forgot his phone was still in his pocket. With that shift, clatter—his phone fell miserably onto the floor.

In a quiet environment where you could hear a pin drop, this sudden sound was shocking.

Lu Tingyun frowned and looked over. He first noticed Song Ai’s raised leg, then, following Song Ai’s movement as he leaned down to pick up the object, he saw the phone on the ground.

The phone must have been bumped; the screen lit up automatically, accurately identifying Song Ai’s lowered face and unlocking. On the screen was a fresh appointment confirmation page:

J-City First People’s Hospital Department of Dermatology and Venereology (STD Clinic) Appointment Successful. Patient: Song Ai.

Lu Tingyun, with his 20/20 vision: “…”