The Sickly Double Doesn't Want to Be Spoiled - Chapter 29

 Chapter 29

“Huh?”

Meng Yuan didn’t react in time.

“Who was the one constantly rushing the photos and clamoring about being hungry just now?” Lu Cong glanced at him.

Meng Yuan: “…”

“That’s because you were rushing me first…” he muttered.

Lu Cong: “What?”

Meng Yuan shut his mouth. “Nothing… you pick the place. I’ll eat anything.”

As he spoke, he looked down at his phone and suddenly remembered: “Oh right, don’t you have work this afternoon? How about I go back and eat by myself”

“No need,” Lu Cong said.

Being interrupted, Meng Yuan looked at Lu Cong blankly.

Lu Cong didn’t meet his eyes, merely staring straight ahead calmly, his profile lines cold and sharp. “Didn’t you say on the island that the fish was delicious? That restaurant has some flown in from there. We can go try it.”

Meng Yuan blinked, and a spark of joy gradually burst in his eyes.

Yes, that fish! What was it called… Blue-footed Booby? No, it was a Blue-footed Booby fish! It was incredibly delicious.

Unfortunately, he had only eaten it once. Later, he felt unwell and had been eating light, stomach-nourishing meals. He hadn’t thought about it much before, but now that Lu Cong suddenly brought it up, Meng Yuan actually craved it a bit.

“Okay,” he swallowed, his tone softening instantly. “Okay, okay! I want to eat it!”

Lu Cong’s mood was still poor. He crossed his arms, refusing to look at him or speak, even intentionally making some movements to display his furrowed brow.

However, Meng Yuan was blinded by the food right in front of him and didn’t notice at all. He nudged closer to Lu Cong and asked, “What about the sauce? Is it still the chef’s secret recipe?”

Lu Cong: “…”

Meng Yuan saw a flash of surprise in Lu Cong’s eyes, followed by an expression that became incredibly complex.

“You!” Lu Cong’s tone sharpened.

But Meng Yuan was only full of joy, blinking his bright, sparkling eyes.

Lu Cong let out a long sigh, closed his eyes, and said through gritted teeth: “Your head is full of nothing but fish!”

Meng Yuan: “?”

…

Half an hour later, at the restaurant.

The temperature had dropped recently, and the heating in the private room was very strong.

Meng Yuan was wearing a thick coat when he got out of the car, and once inside the room, he started sweating from the stuffiness. When he tried to take off his coat, his sleeve got stuck. He clumsily tugged at it twice, but couldn’t get it off.

Meng Yuan looked down at his clothes in surprise.

Seeing this, Lu Cong lent a hand, grabbing the sleeve for him. “Take it off. Use some force.”

Following Lu Cong’s lead, Meng Yuan pulled his hand back hard. Due to the momentum, he spun around once in place before stumbling to a steady stance.

It was like he had performed a bit of Latin dance on the spot, ending with a pose, while the coat slid smoothly into Lu Cong’s hands.

Lu Cong’s eyes widened, and his lips parted slightly in shock.

“What’s wrong?” Meng Yuan asked him curiously.

“No… nothing.” Lu Cong snapped out of it and coughed into his hand. “You actually have quite a talent for dancing.”

Meng Yuan: “Huh?”

The waiter pulled out a chair for him, and Meng Yuan sat down. “Why bring that up all of a sudden?”

Lu Cong casually tossed the coat to the waiter, who took it to hang it up. The waiter bowed respectfully to them and left the room, gently closing the door.

Lu Cong sat down across from Meng Yuan. “Do you want to go learn?”

To his surprise, Meng Yuan made a terrified face: “Did I do something bad?”

“No,” Lu Cong replied, bewildered.

“Then did I do something wrong to you?”

“…No.”

“Then why would you treat me like this!”

“? How am I treating you?”

“You’re making me dance!” Meng Yuan said in disbelief. “Do you know how tiring dancing is?”

Lu Cong: “…………”

He almost rolled his eyes to the heavens, barely restraining himself with his meager amount of self-cultivation.

Why don’t you just stay lazy until you die?

“Fine,” he sighed. “Pretend I’m going crazy.”

…

Over the next half month, Meng Yuan was busy beyond belief.

Even though Qin Qing helped oversee the wedding details, Meng Yuan had to personally look at the venue, floral arrangements, menu, drinks, invitation styles, and favor packaging… every single thing.

“Young Master Meng, do you think the height of this champagne tower is appropriate?”

“Young Master Meng, how many tiers should the fondant cake for the dessert table have?”

“Young Master Meng, should we add some photos of the two of you to the photo wall in the welcome area?”

Photos of the two of them.

They didn’t have any photos together.

Oh wait, besides the marriage certificate photo, they had taken one on the cruise ship on the river. But it was too dark that day, the lighting was bad, and in the original photo, there wasn’t a hint of a smile on Lu Cong’s face. He looked cold like a robot.

As for his photoshopped version… it really did look like a “pseudo-human” no matter how you looked at it.

Not to mention the marriage certificate; Lu Cong had literally looked like the photoshopped version in real life. After thinking it over, there were no suitable photos.

“Let’s skip the couple photos.” Meng Yuan smiled, an apologetic look on his face. “Just using landscape photos is fine.”

The staff looked troubled. “But wedding banquets usually require…”

“Just use landscape photos.” Meng Yuan insisted for once. “I’ll organize them and send them to you later.”

Meng Yuan already knew which one to use.

It was night, on a beach; a bonfire blazed, sparks drifting into the air on the sea breeze, with silhouettes of people everywhere. Although their figures were submerged in the crowd, Meng Yuan knew he was right there in the middle. Even now, he could recall the surge of emotion he felt at that moment.

This one is enough, he thought.

That was the moment, across both his lives combined, that he felt closest to happiness.

…

When Lu Cong returned home, Meng Yuan was studying, writing and sketching.

His head was bowed low; one hand propped up his chin while the other wrote non-stop. He looked distressed, his whole face scrunched up.

“What are you doing?” Lu Cong took off his coat and walked in.

Meng Yuan looked up with a miserable expression. He had ruffled his hair into a mess, with several tufts sticking up awkwardly.

“Is the family suffering a famine?” Lu Cong couldn’t help but chuckle as he helped smooth Meng Yuan’s hair.

Meng Yuan pouted aggrievedly. “I’m worried to death, Boss Lu.”

Lu Cong’s brow twitched.

Boss Lu? Meng Yuan had never called him that before.

“What’s really going on? Tell me.” Lu Cong pulled up a chair and sat beside him.

Meng Yuan pushed the paper on the desk toward him. “This…”

Lu Cong picked it up, and after a glance, his expression changed subtly.

“Wedding speech,” he read aloud.

“Can’t we really hire someone to write it for me?” Meng Yuan looked like he was about to cry. “I’m truly at my wit’s end, Boss Lu!”

He looked at Lu Cong with tearful eyes.

Lu Cong: “…”

Lu Cong remained silent for two seconds, then continued reading.

[Hello everyone, my name is Meng Yuan. I am very happy to marry Mr. Lu Cong today.] This line was completely crossed out.

[Hello everyone, I am Meng Yuan. I am very glad to be united in marriage with Mr. Lu Cong today.] Crossed out.

[Hello everyone, I am Meng Yuan. On this auspicious day, I am about to become a perfect match with Mr. Lu Cong. I am so happy!] Crossed out again.

Lu Cong: “…………”

His hand trembled. As if afraid to touch it, the paper drifted back onto the desk.

What a writing style “kissed by the Star of Literature” truly a once-in-a-lifetime sight.

Lu Cong pressed his brow hard and closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear to look; he simply couldn’t bear it.

“Is it written badly?” Meng Yuan asked expectantly from the side.

Actually, seeing Lu Cong’s “my eyes are being burned” posture, Meng Yuan understood everything. He lowered his head dejectedly. “You can critique it however you want. It’s okay, I can handle it.”

Lu Cong felt that he was the one who couldn’t handle it.

“Nonsense,” Lu Cong emphasized in his words. “We are about to become a… per-fect… match. How could I ever look down on you?”

“Really?” Meng Yuan’s eyes brightened slightly.

“Really,” Lu Cong said sincerely. “Your writing is indeed…” He opened and closed his lips, seemingly searching his brain for gentle vocabulary. “It is indeed a bit… youthful. But, it’s not without its merits.”

“Like… what?”

“For example, look,” Lu Cong picked up the paper again. “This… this…” His fingers tapped rapidly on the desk. “The emotion is very full. Everyone in the audience will know you are very happy.”

“That’s true.” Meng Yuan nodded.

“And,” Lu Cong rubbed his nose. “The handwriting is good! Right! The handwriting is good. Easy to read. I could see it clearly from a meter away.”

“I’m that good…?” Meng Yuan felt a bit embarrassed by the praise. He lowered his head and rubbed his reddening face.

His handwriting wasn’t exactly beautiful, but it was neat. Each stroke was clear and distinct; it was indeed easy to read. But as for being clear from a meter away, he suspected that was mostly due to Lu Cong’s good eyesight and didn’t have much to do with his handwriting.

“You flatter me,” Meng Yuan said modestly.

“But I’ve thought it over carefully,” Lu Cong said. “What you said makes sense. I’ll find someone to write the speech for you later. You don’t need to worry about this anymore.”

“That’s great!” Meng Yuan immediately sat upright, his energy returning. “It’s best that you understand.”

“There’s nothing to ‘understand’ or not.” Lu Cong curled his lip, placed the paper face down on the desk, and pushed it away.

Thank goodness I came back today, he thought with lingering fear.

He couldn’t imagine the scene if he had truly let Meng Yuan finish this “masterpiece” and bring it to the wedding to recite with deep emotion. Lu Cong felt he truly wouldn’t be able to handle it. First of all, he wouldn’t be able to hold back his laughter.

“Don’t ever write it yourself again,” he looked at Meng Yuan, speaking earnestly. “It was my fault before. You clearly mentioned it, but I didn’t give it enough importance. Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”

Meng Yuan was moved to tears. “You’re so kind!”

Lu Cong responded with a considerate smile.

…

On the day of the wedding…

Meng Yuan was dragged out of bed at four in the morning for makeup and styling. When he was pushed into the chair, he was so tired he couldn’t even open his eyes.

The makeup artist applied layers of products to his face while the stylist tallied today’s outfits and accessories nearby. Meng Yuan leaned against the back of the chair, dozing off groggily. Seeing the rows of clothes that were all to be put on him today, he shuddered, wishing he could just faint right now.

He hadn’t even started getting married, yet he was already exhausted. No wonder people prefer divorce these days. You don’t have to throw a banquet.

“Xiao Yuan, don’t sleep! Hold on a bit longer,” Qin Qing encouraged from the side. “It’ll be done soon. If you sleep like this, the makeup will smudge.”

“Mmh…”

Meng Yuan forced his eyes open and saw his pale face in the mirror. The makeup artist was covering his dark circles; the powder puff went up and down, but it couldn’t quite hide the blue tint under his eyes.

He hadn’t slept well again last night. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves, but he felt a dull tightness in his chest and some discomfort in his back. He had secretly measured his temperature: 36.7°C. No fever.

After being awake for a while and being fussed over, the chest tightness felt a bit better, but he was still sleepy so, so sleepy! Meng Yuan’s brain was like mush. His upper and lower eyelids were fighting a fierce battle; his head tilted, and he almost fell asleep on the spot again.

His chin was caught by someone, and Meng Yuan leaned against a person’s body. The material of the person’s suit was cold, smooth, and sleek, carrying the chill of the outdoors, but the person’s hands were very warm.

“What are we going to do if you’re this sleepy?” Lu Cong’s helpless voice sounded above him.

Meng Yuan forced his eyes open and looked up. Lu Cong was already prepared, looking sharp and decent. His facial state was excellent, his skin tight against the bone and he looked far more handsome than usual.

Meng Yuan blinked, a bit dazed. “How are you not swollen even though you woke up early?”

Then he saw Lu Cong smile. It wasn’t really a smile; the corners of Lu Cong’s mouth merely tilted up by a tiny margin before settling back.

“I woke up an hour early and went to the gym.”

Meng Yuan: “.”

Damn, so competitive?

He suspected he had misheard. His brain was buzzing. Seriously, is it necessary? Competitive even about getting married?

Meng Yuan felt Lu Cong was simply not human. He had reached a point of insanity just for the sake of being handsome. Meng Yuan rolled his eyes in frustration.

In this battle, he had lost.

Lu Cong’s hand hadn’t moved from his face. He held Meng Yuan’s chin and rubbed his thumb against his cheek.

“Why is your face a bit hot?”

Meng Yuan: “?”

Then he heard Lu Cong shout: “Qin Qing, bring a thermometer over here.”