My Husband's Eyes Have Been Looking Different Lately After Our Marriage of Convenience - Chapter 7

Chapter 7: “Didn’t You Say I Could Make Any Request?…”

Lu Tingyun’s dedication to his work could be described as nothing short of fanatical.

Thus, his explanation held water perfectly.

Even the habitually suspicious Lu Haichuan only pondered for a few seconds before ending the topic with the usual platitude: “Family should still come first.”

The subsequent dozen or so dishes were served one after another.

Putting aside its other flaws, the sole merit of the old family mansion was the exquisite skill of the chefs. They boasted a rich repertoire of styles covering every imaginable texture.

Rumor had it the Old Madam had personally scouted them from Shu; one had even presided over state banquets.

Song Ai looked left and right, loving everything he saw. His chopsticks darted back and forth in a frantic assault—he looked less like a grandson-in-law celebrating a matriarch’s birthday and more like a starving patron at a high-end bistro.

Everyone else looked on with disapproval.

Only the Old Madam found it amusing, even showing a hint of appreciation. She smiled and said, “Eat more if you like it. Tingyun, don’t just focus on your own plate. Help Xiao Ai with the dishes that are further away or hard for him to reach.”

Looking at the bowl in front of Song Ai—which was already piled into a small mountain of food—Lu Tingyun truly didn’t know what to say.

Instead, Song Ai let out a light chuckle. Whether intentional or not, it added a perfect layer of provocation as he said, “I can reach them, don’t worry, Grandma.”

Lu Haichuan’s mustache practically curled with irritation.

The meal was far from harmonious. At least, with the exception of the Old Madam and Song Ai, no one else had much of an appetite.

Next came the utterly clichéd cake-cutting segment.

The ordered cake was the common longevity peach variety.

Having never visited before, Song Ai wasn’t sure how they usually celebrated the Old Madam’s birthday. He simply stood obediently beside Lu Tingyun, watching to see how solemnly they intended to “process” this cake.

Surprisingly, the whole process was plain and simple—so simple it was almost… perfunctory?

The servants brought the cake out, unpacked the gift box, set out the cutlery and plates, and handed the knife to the Old Madam to start slicing—

“Wait,” Song Ai suddenly spoke up, asking earnestly, “Grandma, aren’t you going to make a wish or something?”

The Old Madam gave him a puzzled look.

In fact, everyone gave him a puzzled look.

“Don’t you usually make a wish on your birthday? Wishing for dreams to come true, a happy life, that sort of thing…” Song Ai, confused, spread his hands and asked, “Are you all staunch materialists?”

Cheng Chao had been suppressed all evening, and he finally saw his chance. He immediately launched into a tirade: “There is currently no evidence to prove that making a birthday wish actually leads to its fulfillment. If everyone could achieve their desires through wishing, global progress would have accelerated exponentially long ago. Why would we even bother studying science?”

“…” Song Ai was speechless, his silence hiding a hint of shock. “So, you guys never make wishes on your birthdays?”

Cheng Chao took it as a matter of course. “Obviously. Should we be like those unrealistic, opportunistic people who rely on marriage to secure investments? The Lu family fortune was built hand-over-hand by our ancestors. We don’t need to fold our hands and beg the heavens; we achieve our goals through our own efforts.”

Song Ai: “…”

Fine. Now he finally understood why Lu Tingyun was a workaholic.

The entire Lu family was composed of workaholics!

How terrifying.

Song Ai felt a sudden urge to dig a hole and crawl in, or perhaps sprout a pair of invisible wings and fly far away.

Obviously, that wasn’t an option.

“Forget I said anything.”

Outnumbered, Song Ai shrugged helplessly. He surreptitiously pulled out his phone and sent a message to the “Three-Man-Dog” group chat: [Not making wishes on birthdays anymore (smile)].

The group members were active and replied immediately.

[Li-ciprocity: What’s up, Brother Ai? Who messed with you?]

[Old Wang Next Door: ?]

[AAA Building Materials Wholesale Boss Song: It’s too non-materialistic. We must advocate for science and truth (prayer hands)]

[Old Wang Next Door: …]

[Li-ciprocity: …]

Song Ai was so busy arguing passionately with his friends that he didn’t notice the cake had been sliced. Someone placed a large piece in front of him. When he looked up and saw it, he assumed a servant had passed it over, so he picked up his spoon and began eating happily.

Lu Tingyun rarely touched other food after a meal.

Firstly, eating too many different things was bad for digestion. Secondly, to him, eating was merely a means to stay full; he had little interest in elaborate sweets or cakes.

However, given today’s special circumstances, he took an elegant bite—a move of high aesthetic value.

—Providing a sharp contrast to Song Ai beside him.

Though Song Ai was thin, his stomach seemed like a bottomless pit; anything put in front of him disappeared. As he ate the cake, he took one bite after another without stopping, eating with genuine gusto.

Lu Tingyun stopped after his small taste. Leaning back in his chair, his gaze drifted around the room before finally settling on the back of Song Ai’s neck.

Because he was eating heartily, Song Ai’s head was lowered, and his entire neck seemed to be working. The vertebrae connecting to his spine were clearly visible, rising and falling slightly with each swallow.

Lu Tingyun remembered the sensation when his palm had brushed against it—that paradoxical feeling of bony structure beneath silky-smooth skin.

That faint, needle-like prickling sensation seemed to travel up from his fingertips again…

At that moment, as if sensing something, Song Ai suddenly looked up.

He turned and looked directly at Lu Tingyun.

Their eyes met with precision.

Still immersed in the sweetness of the cake, Song Ai didn’t catch the strange emotion in the other man’s eyes. He simply whispered, “Are the words you said before we came here still valid?”

Lu Tingyun noticed a bit of cream smudged near the corner of Song Ai’s mouth. Startled, he instinctively asked, “What?”

Song Ai: “Didn’t you say I could make any request I wanted?”

Lu Tingyun snapped back to reality. “Go ahead.”

Song Ai’s expression turned somewhat pained, his brows furrowing slightly. His beautiful eyes held a rare, pitiful hint of pleading as he asked, “Can you take me to the bathroom?”

Lu Tingyun: “…”

A small “need” could be held; a big “need” really couldn’t.

If it weren’t for the desperate circumstances, Song Ai would never have lowered himself to beg.

Fortunately, Lu Tingyun didn’t say much. He put down his cake and stood up to speak for him. “Grandma, Father, I’d like to use the restroom.”

The Old Madam: “Go ahead.”

Song Ai quickly stood up too. “I… I need to go too!”

The Old Madam smiled. “Alright, you go too.”

And so, the two of them walked out, one behind the other.

The nearest restroom was actually only dozens of meters away at the end of the hallway. When Song Ai followed Lu Tingyun to a stop, he was flabbergasted. “It was this close?!”

So what was the point of him holding it in for over an hour earlier?

Did he just prove he has a strong bladder??

Lu Tingyun stopped at the door and stepped aside. “I’ll wait outside.”

Song Ai was ready to dive in. “Okay.”

But as soon as his foot touched the threshold, he stepped back.

Song Ai hesitated. “Maybe you could… walk a bit further away?”

While he didn’t care about Lu Tingyun, he cared very much about his image in front of others.

Lu Tingyun glanced at him and said succinctly, “The soundproofing here is excellent.”

Song Ai blinked.

Well, damn.

Embarrassing again.

He pushed the door open with a thud and closed it with another thud to vent his awkwardness and frustration.

About ten minutes later.

The bathroom door reopened. Song Ai emerged, leaning heavily against the wall. Embarrassed to ask Lu Tingyun for help, he walked stiffly to the sink and washed his hands casually.

Lu Tingyun didn’t focus on that. He simply asked out of curiosity, “Is your digestion not very good?”

Generally, people who rush to the bathroom immediately after a meal have some underlying issue.

Song Ai gave a noncommittal “Mm,” showing no desire to discuss the topic. This situation was something he had long grown accustomed to; it wasn’t anything strange to him.

Seeing that the other party didn’t want to elaborate, the habitually meticulous Lu Tingyun didn’t press further.

The two returned to the dining room.

The servants were already clearing the remains. The table had been wiped clean. Song Ai, who had memorized poems about the hardships of farmers since childhood, frowned as he watched food being tossed away.

The others acted as if they didn’t see it, following the Old Madam out.

Lu Tingyun waited for Song Ai to join them, but seeing him staring fixedly at the cake in the trash bin, he was perplexed.

Just as he was about to ask, Cheng Chao, who was walking slightly ahead of them, noticed too.

Because of the earlier incident, he had already labeled Song Ai as his mortal enemy. He took the opportunity to snap: “Don’t tell me you’re still not full? It’s bad enough you’re freeloading on Grandma’s birthday; are you trying to take leftovers home with you too?”

Song Ai lazily lifted his eyelids. “I just think it’s a bit of a waste to throw away such a big cake.”

If it were just scraps, it wouldn’t matter.

But the bottom layer of this cake was a full 16 inches, three tiers in total, and less than a tenth of it had been eaten. Even sharing it with the mansion staff would be better than throwing it all away.

“Waste?” Cheng Chao found it hilarious. “If you were so poor you couldn’t put food on the table, those words might have some merit. But you’re currently eating from the Lu family, living with the Lu family, driving luxury cars, and staying in a mansion. Isn’t talking about ‘waste’ a bit hypocritical?”

Song Ai didn’t want to argue with this ungraduated brat and started to walk away.

Cheng Chao blocked his path. “To be honest, I’m really curious how poor the Song family actually is. Can you tell me? Selling a son for marriage, worrying about a wasted cake… is your family really that broke—”

“Cheng Chao!” Lu Tingyun cut him off sharply. “Don’t be so rude—”

“What happens in my family is none of your business.” Before Lu Tingyun could finish, Song Ai shot back himself. “If you’re so concerned with other people’s affairs, why don’t you reflect on yourself first? You just said the Lu family’s wealth was built by the hands of your ancestors. What? Did your ancestors work hard to produce food just so you could watch it be wasted?”

He spoke a long string of words, but every syllable was clear and every point hit home.

Cheng Chao’s face flushed red once again. He didn’t know how to retaliate, only sputtering, “I…”

Song Ai: ” ‘I’ what? Being an angry youth is no excuse for having no manners. Take note.”

Cheng Chao: “You…”

Song Ai: “Me? I’m the type who doesn’t hold grudges against petty people. I’ll let you off the hook this time. Next time, I hope you bring your brain before you start barking. Goodbye.”

With that, he gave a slight brow-raise and walked away.

Cheng Chao was stunned into silence. He stood there for a long time, unable to squeeze out a single word. When he finally recovered, he turned to look at his older cousin.

To his surprise, his cousin’s lips were slightly curled into a faint, unreadable smile.

Cheng Chao: “…?”

…

After dinner and the cake-cutting, it was nearly nine o’clock.

The old mansion was vast, with gardens taking up most of the space. Usually at this time, the Old Madam would leave her wheelchair, take up her cane, and walk a lap around the artificial lake in the center to aid digestion.

Today was no exception.

Furthermore, with so many people, staying cooped up inside was dull. It was better to walk arm-in-arm and chat outside.

“Today is the fifteenth, and the moon is full. It really is an auspicious day,” Lu Haichuan said as he walked beside the Old Madam.

“They say the moon is rounder on the sixteenth than the fifteenth.” The Old Madam stopped mid-sentence and let out a heavy sigh. “If only your father were still here. He was always so healthy; I don’t know why he left me so suddenly back then. Alas…”

Lu Haichuan remained silent for a moment. “Father is in heaven, protecting our Lu family.”

Hearing this, Song Ai couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned toward Lu Tingyun and whispered, “Having a son like your dad is rough. Even after the old man’s dead, he still has to stay busy in heaven protecting the whole family.”

Lu Tingyun remained silent in response.

“By the way.” Song Ai looked at the dark sky. “Are we going back tonight? Don’t tell me we’re staying—”

Before he could finish, he was interrupted by a middle-aged man who suddenly appeared. It was the butler of the mansion.

The man bowed respectfully to the group and explained his presence: “Old Madam, the guest rooms have all been prepared.”

The Old Madam nodded with satisfaction. “I see. You may go.”

After the butler retreated, Lu Tingyun looked down and answered Song Ai’s previous question: “Barring any surprises, it seems so.”

Song Ai’s eyes rolled back.

He had a very bad feeling. He asked apprehensively, “Then don’t tell me the two of us have to stay in the same—”

Once again, he didn’t get to finish. The Old Madam suddenly turned around, looking at them with a smile. “Tingyun, Xiao Ai, it’s late, so don’t head back. Stay in the room in the West Wing.”

Song Ai: “…”

He completely shut his “prophetic” mouth.