My Husband's Eyes Have Been Looking Different Lately After Our Marriage of Convenience - Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Lying for His Wife…

Shortly after Song Ai left, Lu Tingyun returned to the study as per his routine.

Even though he had taken the day off, his habit was to finish today’s tasks; work that needed to be completed could not be delayed.

However, today was an exception.

He entered the study around 11:00 AM and opened his laptop, but after half an hour of sliding the mouse, he still hadn’t entered a “working state.” At first, he thought it was because he hadn’t taken a nap—spring drowsiness is a common phenomenon, after all.

So, he went back to the bedroom for a short rest.

Yet, until the alarm rang, his mind remained sharp and clear. Furthermore, his body seemed to be getting increasingly… hot.

Lu Tingyun had never experienced a situation like this before. He pressed his temples, lay flat for a moment, and then decided to get up and return to the study to work.

If he kept lying there… he would inevitably start reminiscing about the scene from yesterday where he grabbed Song Ai’s ankle and dragged him toward himself.

…

3:00 PM.

Lu Tingyun efficiently finished some simple tasks. The remaining complex ones were simply beyond his current capacity to focus on, so he left them for tomorrow.

Since it was still early, Lu Tingyun decided to change clothes and head to the upstairs gym to expend some physical energy.

Boxing was his favorite and best sport.

Stripping off his suit and donning gloves, he blocked out all external noise. He only needed to lock onto a single target and swing his fists wildly, using the most primal and direct method to release all his stress and sweat.

An hour and a half passed.

Drenched in sweat and feeling invigorated, the heat in his body finally subsided.

Coming out of the gym, the muscle lines on Lu Tingyun’s arms were still pumped from the exertion. Sweat covered his face and body; that sticky sensation overlapped heavily with the memories of last night.

A servant waiting outside the door thoughtfully handed him a towel.

Lu Tingyun took it, wiped himself down, and asked casually as usual, “Is the Madam back yet?”

The servant shook his head truthfully.

Song Ai almost never associated with people from the Lu family. It was only normal that he wouldn’t want to go. Lu Tingyun lowered his eyes and didn’t ask further.

After a quick cold shower, Lu Tingyun emerged from the bedroom wrapped in a towel. He had a specialized walk-in closet for clothes for different occasions; the bedroom wardrobe only held the suits he wore for daily work.

Today was the old lady’s birthday. Although it wasn’t an exceptionally grand occasion, it was better to be rigorous with his attire. With that in mind, Lu Tingyun walked toward the dressing room.

On the way, he passed the master bedroom.

Perhaps because Song Ai had been in such a rush to leave, the door wasn’t closed properly and was slightly ajar. Lu Tingyun instinctively glanced inside. Through that crack, he caught sight of Song Ai’s slightly messy bed. The patterns in the sheets revealed exactly what kind of absurd night had transpired there.

That burning sensation that had finally been suppressed seemed to crawl back up from somewhere in his lower abdomen.

Lu Tingyun swiftly retracted his gaze.

…

After changing, Lu Tingyun went downstairs and instructed the servants to bring out the pre-prepared gifts to take along.

Butler Wu took charge of the coordination. In no time, the gifts were neatly and orderly packed into the trunk of the car.

Near 6:00 PM. Just as Lu Tingyun stepped out of the house, he heard Butler Wu give a soft cry of surprise—”The Madam is back.”

Lu Tingyun looked up and sure enough, saw a Ferrari coupe racing toward them.

Song Ai always drove fast. Lu Tingyun had witnessed this long ago.

Watching the youth’s short hair flying wildly in the wind, the thoughts that had been circling Lu Tingyun’s mind all day long began to pop up one after another again.

…

Too lazy to go to the garage, Song Ai simply parked the car in the plaza next to the central fountain. The estate was huge anyway; parking anywhere wouldn’t block the way.

The central fountain wasn’t far from the main entrance of the villa.

As soon as Song Ai got out of the car, he locked eyes with Lu Tingyun at the door. He noticed Lu Tingyun was wearing clean, casual clothes. His posture was as straight and upright as ever, but his aura was completely different. He looked refined, elegant, and scholarly—a far cry from his usual cold and old-fashioned self.

—If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, Song Ai might never have been able to associate such a man with “sex” for the rest of his life.

Butler Wu greeted him happily and asked politely, “Good afternoon, Madam. The Master is heading to the old residence for the old lady’s birthday. Would you like to go together?”

Returning before six o’clock naturally meant Song Ai intended to go, so he replied casually, “Yeah.”

“That’s wonderful.” Butler Wu’s expression brightened. He was a traditional butler who loved nothing more than seeing a harmonious family. After a moment, he asked, “Then, will you be sharing a car with the Master?”

Song Ai pursed his lips and glanced at Lu Tingyun.

They had just done that yesterday. Although they had been apart for half a day and the awkwardness had faded, the thought of sharing a confined space with this man still made him feel a bit uneasy.

Better not?

Just as Song Ai was about to decline, Lu Tingyun suddenly spoke first: “Let’s go.”

Song Ai froze.

Before he could react, the battle-hardened Butler Wu had already fully grasped the meaning of those two words: “Let’s go, Madam. The Master means for you to ride in the same car as us.”

Song Ai: “…?”

Lu Tingyun only said two words! Are you sure you’re not just guessing wildly??

However, the next second, Lu Tingyun’s action of stepping into the car proved that Butler Wu’s translation was perfectly accurate. With things having come to this, Song Ai couldn’t refuse anymore and ducked into the back seat.

Unlike the coupe, the SUV was much more spacious. After getting in, Song Ai deliberately sat right against the door, putting a distance of about half a meter between him and Lu Tingyun.

This move wasn’t exactly blatant, but it wasn’t subtle either.

Lu Tingyun’s peripheral vision swept over the air between them, and his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

The car started slowly. Not long after, as they neared the old residence, Lu Tingyun suddenly spoke up, offering a kind reminder: “Today is Grandmother’s 70th birthday. My father will be there too.”

Song Ai was stunned, his face going a bit numb. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

The three generations of the Lu family all had different attitudes toward Song Ai. The old lady was kind; Lu Tingyun was indifferent. But Lu Tingyun’s father, Lu Haichuan, felt blatant disgust for him. With that man there, this meal could never be relaxing.

“It was my oversight.” Lu Tingyun paused. “If you’ve changed your mind, I can have the driver take you back first.”

I’m already here. Song Ai disdained running away from a challenge. Besides, Lu Haichuan hated him—so what? Looking at it from another angle, being hated isn’t much different from being secretly loved.

So Song Ai curled his lip and said indifferently, “Forget it. Can’t let the trip go to waste. I’ll leave after I’ve had my fill of the banquet.”

Lu Tingyun lowered his eyes in thought and added, “How about this: stay close to me the whole time. If you need anything, tell me, and I can speak up for you.”

Song Ai had been here once before and felt extremely out of place. The Lu family had too many rules and felt cold, and the house was so big he couldn’t even find a place to pee. He ended up holding it in until he got home.

But if Lu Tingyun spoke for him, everything would be easier. Despite thinking this, Song Ai remained stubborn: “No need. I’m not that delicate.”

“No,” Lu Tingyun explained calmly, “I’m just afraid that if you two start arguing, my father’s blood pressure will spike. His recent physical exam results weren’t very good.”

Song Ai sneered, “Heh.”

Married men—every one of them is a paragon of filial piety.

The car soon stopped. The “couple” entered side-by-side. One looked like he had swallowed a fly; the other had a face colder than an ice cube. In short, they didn’t look like they were there for a birthday, but a funeral.

Butler Wu followed behind carrying the gift boxes, whispering in a panic, “Master, Madam, today is the old lady’s big day! You can’t not smile!”

Song Ai thought Butler Wu had a point, so he bared eight teeth in a forced, standard smile. He turned to look at Lu Tingyun—and immediately looked away.

Terrifying. How does he look scarier smiling than crying?

…

Everyone was gathered in the parlor. Song Ai followed behind Lu Tingyun and, upon entering, bumped into several elders chatting.

One of them was Lu Haichuan.

Hearing the commotion at the door, he instinctively looked over and saw his son—and his “good-for-nothing” son-in-law. When he saw Lu Tingyun, his expression was normal, but the moment he saw Song Ai, his face visibly darkened.

Song Ai, witnessing the whole thing: “…” Is he performing a Beijing Opera face-changing act?

Since Lu Haichuan didn’t welcome him, Song Ai didn’t bother with him either. He shifted his steps and walked straight toward the old lady. Lu Tingyun continued forward a few steps in the original direction, stopped before his father, and called out respectfully, “Dad.”

Lu Haichuan suppressed his sour face slightly and asked, “Why did you bring him?”

Lu Tingyun explained truthfully, “It was Grandmother’s wish.”

Since that was the case, Lu Haichuan couldn’t say much more. He only snorted coldly, his voice full of disdain. “Fine, let him come. But to dress so improperly—doesn’t he even own a decent suit? I really don’t know how that Song family raised him…”

…

Compared to Lu Haichuan’s “face-changing” level of disgust, the old lady was much more cordial to Song Ai. Seeing him walk toward her, she even let out an involuntary, kind smile.

Elderly people tend to prefer talking to vibrant young people. Especially at times like this, the old lady was surrounded almost entirely by younger nephews and nieces from the Lu family branches.

As Song Ai passed through the crowd, he heard someone whisper the word “manure.”

“?”

Song Ai turned to look and saw a teenager in a red-and-white school uniform rolling his eyes at him. He remembered this impolite brat; his name was Cheng Chao, the son of one of Lu Tingyun’s cousins.

The first time Song Ai came to the Lu residence, this idiot had called him that. He probably felt that Lu Tingyun marrying him was like “a flower planted in cow manure,” so he gave him that nickname.

Back then, as it was their first meeting, Song Ai didn’t hold it against him. But that didn’t mean he would let it slide every time.

Song Ai paused slightly, stared at the idiot, and mouthed back a beautiful:

“Dog. Sh*t.”

Lu Tingyun’s cousin was still too young. He didn’t know how to weigh his insults. Didn’t he know that “manure” was actually quite a refreshing term compared to other insults?

The boy naturally understood the retaliation, and his cheeks flushed instantly. But since he had no evidence, he couldn’t erupt and had to bottle it up.

…

Before long, dinner was ready. The old lady called everyone to the dining room. In the Lu family, her commands might not always carry weight, but regarding trivial matters, no one would disobey. So, a swarm of people followed her out of the parlor.

The architectural style of the old residence was completely different from Lu Tingyun’s modern villa. It was like a Suzhou-style garden, with pavilions, terraces, and shifting tree shadows—high aesthetic value.

The only downside was the winding corridors. Walking from the parlor to the dining room, because Song Ai’s pants were too loose and he was a natural “mosquito magnet,” he attracted quite a few insects from the courtyard.

After another loud smack of a mosquito, Lu Tingyun, sitting next to him, couldn’t listen anymore. He asked in a low voice, “Would you like to go down and change into narrower pants?”

“Leggings?” Song Ai said jokingly. “Forget it. I’m afraid if I put them on, I’ll start doing a ‘flower hand’ dance.”

Lu Tingyun: “…”

He didn’t say more, but simply summoned a servant and gave a few brief instructions. The servant nimbly closed all the doors and windows of the dining room, and Song Ai’s situation of being bullied by mosquitoes improved.

The first dish served was a hot soup. A servant was in charge of serving. When it was Song Ai’s turn, he said casually, “Give me more sea cucumber, I love it,” and immediately felt a sharp gaze from across the table.

But it didn’t affect Song Ai in the slightest.

Having no other recourse, Lu Haichuan slowly shifted his gaze to his son. His tone wasn’t one of concern, but more of an interrogation: “Why are you so late today?” No one else had arrived later.

Lu Tingyun put down his spoon steadily and looked back.

The reason was, of course, to wait for Song Ai. He had told Song Ai to be back by six, but he hadn’t expected his father to suddenly move the time forward by half an hour, requiring them to be at the old house by six sharp.

Lu Tingyun didn’t want to mess up Song Ai’s arrangements because of this—after all, Song Ai wasn’t the one who changed the time—nor did he want to break his promise, so he waited until six.

However, telling the truth… would likely only make his father’s impression of Song Ai even worse.

“There was a proposal that needed adjusting,” Lu Tingyun said, lowering his eyes. Although it was his first time lying, his weaving technique was superb.

“Because it concerns the preparations for tomorrow’s product launch, I had to hold a brief emergency video conference before leaving.”