The Sickly Double Doesn't Want to Be Spoiled - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

On the other hand,

Inside a private room of a Chinese restaurant, behind a screen depicting the Map of Goddess Luo, the wine had already gone around three times.

Lu Cong set down his chopsticks and took a hot towel handed over by a waiter to wipe his hands. Sitting at the dining table were several city officials and partners who had regular business dealings with Lu Cong; it was a relatively casual private gathering.

Mayor Zeng, in high spirits from the wine, unbuttoned two buttons and leaned back in his chair, looking at Lu Cong with a gossiping air: “I heard President Lu’s wedding date has been set?”

“Yes,” Lu Cong smiled, speaking candidly: “When the time comes, I hope everyone will certainly grace us with your presence.”

“Hey, look at what you’re saying,” Mayor Zeng teased. “How could we possibly have a reason not to attend President Lu’s wedding?”

The people around repeatedly echoed in agreement.

“I heard President Lu’s partner is the young master of the Meng family?” someone at the table asked.

Lu Cong looked over; the speaker was the boss of Guangfa Real Estate.

“Manager Du is very well-informed.”

Manager Du waved his hands repeatedly: “Hearsay, just hearsay.” He propped up his chin, reminiscing: “However, I’ve basically met all those Meng family children, except for the sixth one whom I’ve missed every time. He is quite mysterious; I didn’t think President Lu would actually know him.”

He was indeed mysterious; Lu Cong hadn’t met him either.

He said without changing his expression: “It was an accidental meeting; I didn’t expect us to hit it off so well.”

As the words fell, the expressions of those around changed. The Meng family’s young master rarely showed his face in public; Meng Derun usually only brought his older brothers and sisters when discussing business. In earlier years, one could say he was protecting his youngest son, but seeing as Meng Yuan was already twenty and still had no chance to appear, everyone slowly began to figure it out knowing that he was likely unfavored at home.

But listening to Lu Cong’s tone, although calm, it faintly revealed intimacy.

The crowd pondered for a moment and understood. This was giving someone “backing”; he was already protecting him before they even registered the marriage. Could it be that he truly liked him?

Who knows what’s true or false? Everyone exchanged glances and simply raised their glasses to shout.

“So it was love at first sight!”

“Love at first sight President Lu is quite romantic.”

“Wishing President Lu a happy and harmonious new marriage!”

Lu Cong smiled and accepted everyone’s congratulations, raising his glass to take a symbolic sip of wine.

The phone on the table vibrated several times in succession. He picked it up and opened it unhurriedly.

[Meng Yuan: Assistant Song, you transferred too much money to me]

[Meng Yuan: Give me a card number, I’ll return half to you]

[Meng Yuan: /Serious Old Man.jpg]

[Meng Yuan: Assistant Song, are you there?]

Lu Cong: “…”

The feigned “falling in love” smile froze slightly. Lu Cong couldn’t help but scratch his temple. Under the influence of alcohol, his thoughts were also a bit loose.

What did this Meng Yuan mean by always ordering him around like an assistant? They were in a contract marriage; privately, they were not familiar enough to play this kind of role-play with each other.

Lu Cong felt somewhat offended, but his good upbringing made him accustomed to maintaining politeness and cultivation toward anyone. He opened a folder on his phone, found the latest PDF, and sent it over kindly.

Marriage Agreement Contract (Final Version).

You can look at it more carefully again. 

…

Meng Yuan waited anxiously for a reply. While waiting, he suddenly and mysteriously fell asleep, his very round head leaving a dent in the sofa.

The message notification tone woke him up. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. His head was dizzy to the extreme; staring at the screen for a while, he only felt the characters were flying around.

His nose felt hot, followed by a cluster of blood spots dripping onto the chat interface.

A nosebleed.

Meng Yuan hurriedly took a tissue to plug his nose. He went to the toilet to wash his face, fumbling for a long time before barely managing to stop the blood.

But his head was still very dizzy. He went back to his suitcase to rummage through his medicine box, finding a few pills to take according to the doctor’s instructions.

It wasn’t until his state recovered that he remembered to reply to the message. “Assistant Song” had sent him a PDF version of the contract.

Meng Yuan was somewhat puzzled, but he still opened it to look according to the other party’s request. Until he saw that string of astronomical figures on the penultimate page—it had directly doubled compared to the shredded version he saw before!

Meng Yuan was frightened into dropping his phone again. He crawled up stubbornly and typed tremblingly:

[So not only can I receive these, I can receive them again after registering the marriage?]

[Assistant Song: Yes.]

Meng Yuan covered his mouth. Amidst hot tears, he entered another daze. This “heaven-sent wealth” came too fast; he couldn’t quite absorb it. His brain throbbed with a dull pain, feeling that he probably couldn’t handle it.

Thinking it over, he found that all he could do was cooperate fully.

[Meng Yuan: I can register for marriage at any time.]

Lu Cong: “…”

Inside the private room, Lu Cong’s expression was peculiar. Was he really this short of money? Had a child of the Meng family never even seen tens of millions before?

Lu Cong felt Meng Yuan was poor beyond belief, but thinking about how Meng Yuan had always been unfavored in the Meng family, he felt it was perhaps excusable. He turned his hand and transferred another million over to Meng Yuan.

[ . : Take this “pocket change” to spend first. We’ll talk about registering the marriage in a few days.]

[ . : The extra double amount of money in the contract is “mental distress compensation” for you.]

Meng Yuan focused intently on the screen, ready at any time to cooperate with the leader’s instructions.

Buzz buzz. Bank card arrival: One million.

Clang! Meng Yuan picked up his phone in a flurry.

Buzz buzz. Mental distress compensation? What had he lost? Was marrying Lu Cong such a terrifying thing? Terrifying enough that he gained tens of millions for free, yet the other party still felt he had suffered a loss?

Meng Yuan racked his brain but could not imagine anything he could lose. How bad could a person be who gives out so much money in one breath?

He tapped the phone nervously, his hand shaking pathetically, making several typos in a row. He bit his lip and simply deleted them all, pressing the voice message key: “You’re overstating it, I haven’t suffered any loss.”

[You’re overstating it, I…]

Beep! The voice message was instantly cut off.

Lu Cong looked up. Countless pairs of eyes on the wine table were staring at him with various expressions.

Lu Cong: “…”

He didn’t speak. He switched the voice message to the earpiece to play, first listening to it once in full. He replied with one message, flipped the phone back onto the table, and then looked around without changing his expression.

“Yesterday, there was a small matter where I didn’t go along with him. Look at this—he’s throwing a tantrum.”

The crowd exchanged looks and burst into laughter. The atmosphere at the wine table became lively once again.

“So that’s how it is…”

“Oh, it’s all ‘lovers’ play’; we understand, we understand!”

“Young Master Meng is young; it’s normal to be spoiled and act coquettishly. President Lu, you should be more accommodating…”

Lu Cong nodded and smiled as if very helpless.

…

Meng Yuan counted the bank card balance ten times over.

So much money… The tip of his heart was trembling. Let alone this much, even the “pocket change” was something he could never earn in a lifetime of labor.

In the past, Meng Yuan always thought about what he would do if he were rich, dreaming dusty dreams together with his coworkers. For every bag of cement he hoisted, he would mutter a wish, comforting himself amidst the hardship.

But now that so much money had actually reached his hands, he unexpectedly didn’t know how to spend it. He pressed his hand over his heart. He originally thought that after a poor person suddenly became rich, there would be wild joy; he didn’t expect that there would actually be more awkwardness and unease.

So, where should he start spending first? Meng Yuan tugged at his fingers blankly.

How about… ordering a takeout first?

Buzz buzz! The phone popped up another message. Meng Yuan hurried to open it.

[Assistant Song: I’ve hired a housekeeper to be responsible for cooking and looking after your daily life. The person will arrive at your place in ten minutes.]

Meng Yuan: “O.O”

He silently closed the takeout app he had just opened; his habit of being stingy couldn’t be changed in a short time. Since someone was cooking, he wouldn’t order for now. If he could save a meal, he would save a meal.

Money, even if it isn’t spent, looks very good staying in the bank card.

Ten minutes later, the doorbell rang punctually. Meng Yuan trotted downstairs. Outside the door stood a middle-aged woman in her forties with short hair reaching just to her chin; her features looked very kind.

“Hello, Young Master Meng,” she said softly. “I am the housekeeper and nutritionist Mr. Lu hired for you. I will be responsible for your daily life from now on. My name is Qin Qing.”

“Hello, hello, Teacher Qin. Assistant Song told me just now,” Meng Yuan held the door frame and made way. “Please, come in quickly.”

Perhaps because his tone was too polite, a flash of subtle surprise crossed Qin Qing’s face, and then she smiled and came in to change her shoes.

“Young Master Meng, you are too polite. You can just call me by my name.”

Meng Yuan was a bit troubled. In his view, this housekeeper was both polite and elegant; one could see she was knowledgeable and professional. Facing such a person, he couldn’t help but want to call her “Teacher.”

“Then you should also just call me by my name,” he agonized for a while, as if bargaining. “That way, I will call you Sister Qin Qing.”

The smile in the woman’s eyes grew even stronger. Without pushing back, she agreed briskly, like coaxing a child: “Okay, then I’ll call you Xiao Yuan, okay?”

So gentle… Few people had ever spoken to him in such a gentle tone—it was like a mother. Meng Yuan was momentarily dazed.

His biological mother left very early. His father had a chronic illness and required long-term hospitalization. Meng Yuan had been the primary labor force of the family since he was very young. Working odd jobs everywhere, no one would ever treat him like a child. Now that he had suddenly encountered it, Meng Yuan was a bit happy and a bit shy, his heart feeling warm.

He nodded repeatedly: “Sure, you can call me anything.”

Qin Qing then gently rubbed his hair and carried the bags toward the kitchen: “Mr. Lu said there is no food in the house for the time being, so I bought some groceries.” She looked at her watch: “It’s almost mealtime. We’ll eat something simple for dinner—how about some pan-seared silver cod plus a bowl of chicken soup wontons?”

“Okay,” Meng Yuan swallowed his saliva, feeling these sounded much tastier than the ones on the takeout app. “I’m fine with anything.”

Qin Qing asked again: “Are there any dietary restrictions?”

Meng Yuan shook his head like a rattle. He wasn’t a picky eater at all; he ate everything.

“Great!” Qin Qing likely had a minor in early childhood education; she showed a very encouraging expression. “Then is there anything you want to eat tomorrow? There will be plenty of time tomorrow; we can make it very sumptuous.”

Meng Yuan opened his eyes wide with joy. However, he thought for a long time and couldn’t think of anything. He actually hadn’t eaten many types of food. He didn’t go to restaurants; a bundle of dried noodles could last him half a month. He didn’t know which dishes were tasty.

“It’s okay,” Qin Qing said gently. “Anything you want to eat is fine. I can cook any dish.”

Meng Yuan pursed his lips, looking very distressed. Suddenly, his eyes lit up: “Are strawberries okay?”

“Of course! So Xiao Yuan likes fruit.” Qin Qing showed a satisfied expression: “I guarantee that tomorrow as soon as you wake up, you will be able to eat the freshest strawberries.”

…

Meng Yuan went back to his room floating on air. His cheeks were red, and he was dizzy from a happiness he had never felt before.

Qin Qing did what she said. The next day when Meng Yuan woke up and went downstairs, he saw a large plate of bright red, succulent strawberries washed and placed on the dining table.

Meng Yuan was coaxed by Qin Qing into finishing breakfast first, then he picked up the strawberries and went excitedly to the sunroom on the third floor. It was very beautiful there, with bright, abundant light and flowers growing. Without needing to go to work or do labor, sitting there slowly all morning eating strawberries was the happiest thing Meng Yuan could think of at this moment.

Downstairs, Qin Qing reported her work to Lu Cong as per routine.

“The young master finished breakfast and has now gone to the third floor to eat strawberries.”

In the office, Lu Cong’s phone was on speakerphone to one side. He was leafing through documents, not paying much attention to Qin Qing’s report.

“How is he? He didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a while.

“Mr. Lu,” Qin Qing became a bit more serious. “I think not just me, but your impression of the young master also has some bias.”

Qin Qing was someone Lu Cong recognized. Before Lu Cong’s mother passed away, Qin Qing had helped nurse her body for a long period. Lu Cong would occasionally show a few parts more patience toward people he trusted: “Continue.”

“Young Master Meng’s personality is very good,” Qin Qing said. She used the word “very.”

Lu Cong hooked the corner of his mouth, yet there was no smile: “You’ve known him for less than a day, and your evaluation of him is that high?”

Qin Qing didn’t defend herself: “He is very sensible and very polite. It’s as if he’s afraid of being disliked; he is sensitive and careful when interacting with people, even sensitive to the point of being a bit timid.”

“Mr. Lu,” Qin Qing’s voice trailed off slightly. “This is a bit different from the image of the ‘troublemaking demon’ you described to me beforehand. Do you really know him?”

Lu Cong: “…”

He couldn’t help but sit up straight, feeling a bit amused and a bit vexed: “Are you saying I deliberately blackened his name?”

The other side was silent for two seconds. Qin Qing’s stiff voice came through: “I didn’t say that.”

Lu Cong almost laughed in anger. Yes, he indeed didn’t know Meng Yuan. Later, he added him on WeChat through a third person’s recommendation, but they hadn’t chatted. By no means could they be considered familiar.

But this person, Meng Yuan, was acting bizarrely throwing a fit and going on a hunger strike to avoid the marriage alliance, then mysteriously and suddenly agreeing the next second. After that, he spitefully pretended to treat him as Song Zhen, deliberately ordering him around. Lu Cong felt his evaluation wasn’t wrong at all.

他 raised his eyelids and glanced at the assistant himself. He saw that Song Zhen was listening very seriously, nodding from time to time, looking completely in agreement with Qin Qing’s statement.

It didn’t look like an act.

Lu Cong: “…”

What did this mean? So Meng Yuan was truly good to everyone, except specifically targeting him? It was really quite irritating.

Lu Cong hung up the phone and dismissed Song Zhen as well. On the office desk sat three curved-screen computers; only two were working normally, while the screen of the other was turned off.

Lu Cong buried his head in work. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a red light flashing in the bottom right corner of the last computer. That was the surveillance detecting activity.

Lu Cong didn’t think much and clicked it open out of habit. The moment the screen lit up, he remembered this was the surveillance used when he took in the stray cats. After the stray cats were adopted out one by one, these monitors hadn’t lit up for a long time. So long that Lu Cong had almost forgotten, putting them completely out of mind.

Before Meng Yuan moved in, he had people tidy up the villa well. Probably because time was rushed and there were too many cameras, one or two were left behind.

The screen lit up fully. The abundant light stabbed into his eyes; Lu Cong couldn’t even open his eyes for a moment, taking a few seconds to adapt. He saw Meng Yuan sitting in the glass room filled with flowers and sunlight.

The boy was very thin, as if he hadn’t had time to fully grow from a youth into a sturdy and reliable young man. His shoulders and back were slight, carrying the lush and fresh aura of a small blade of grass.

Lu Cong watched him in the middle of the flowers, watched his arms filled with crystal-clear strawberries, watched him pick up one but not eat it, putting it to the tip of his nose first to sniff it with treasure-like care.

Lu Cong’s brow moved unconsciously. He felt a confusion beyond his scope of knowledge regarding such a scene.

Meng Yuan piously bit off the tip of the strawberry. Immense happiness and joy erupted from his eyes; he then quickly ate the entire strawberry clean. Then came the second one, the third one…

Meng Yuan ate very seriously.

Lu Cong: “…”

What was he doing?

He reached out his hand, preparing to turn off the monitor. He didn’t have a hobby of peeping at other people eating. However, just a second before his finger touched the computer, he suddenly saw something sparkling on Meng Yuan’s smile-filled face. It looked like water traces, illuminated by the sun like winding rivers.

He was crying?

Meng Yuan’s face was completely covered in tear stains, looking very, very sad. But he was indeed smiling.

Lu Cong’s hand paused. The confusion in his eyes could no longer be hidden, following his locked brows as it scrambled to overflow. In just a brief moment, Meng Yuan’s body was full of emotions he couldn’t understand.

Why cry? What was there to cry about when eating some strawberries?

The overly pure and strange emotions even managed to penetrate through the screen, stabbing at Lu Cong in fragments. Lu Cong didn’t understand, even thinking gloomily: Is he acting? Had he discovered there was a monitor here?

However, from beginning to end, Meng Yuan didn’t glance even once toward the direction of the camera.

Instinctively, Lu Cong leaned closer to the screen. Then he discovered Meng Yuan’s tears stopped.

Meng Yuan was coughing a bit. At first, he coughed lightly for a while, but then, as if it couldn’t be stopped, the coughing erupted violently. Soon Meng Yuan’s face flushed red, the blue veins on the side of his neck bulged out, and he covered his chest and bent over, gasping for air with difficulty.

However, oxygen didn’t seem to enter his body; his breathing became more and more difficult. The unfinished strawberries fell out, spilling all over the floor.

Lu Cong saw Meng Yuan’s profile slowly turn purple due to lack of oxygen.

His pupils were constricted. In an instant, all thoughts vanished. He grabbed his phone and dialed Qin Qing’s number.

“Go to the third floor immediately!” he said rapidly. “Meng Yuan’s state isn’t right.”