Chapter 7#
Lu Xingyun didn’t know how he was going to get through these long, deathly silent few seconds.
His brother’s hand, which had been twirling the pen, stopped. The whole study was so quiet that only Man Yu’s shallow breathing came through from the other end of the phone.
According to Lu Xingyun’s not-entirely-well-founded guess, his brother’s first awakening of love had landed on someone else’s wife.
Man Yu gripped the phone, breathing irregularly. Lu Yinbing had stopped speaking, and he was nervous too.
Why did he want to see him?
He and Lu Yinbing had only met once; there shouldn’t have been any conflict. Was it because he had taken too long buying water and hadn’t come back that day?
He definitely couldn’t meet Lu Yinbing. If Sheng Lin found out, their relationship—which had barely eased a little—would break again. And if Sheng Lin stopped coming home at all, what then?
That day, Lu Yinbing had only touched his hair once, and Sheng Lin had been so jealous he couldn’t stand it. If he met Lu Yinbing in private, wouldn’t Sheng Lin go mad with anger?
After four or five full seconds of silence, he heard a metallic “dong” from the other end as something landed on the desktop, and his body jolted along with the sound.
It was Lu Yinbing tapping his fountain pen on the desk. He drew a breath and said, “Then you come over too.”
No matter who his husband was, he was about to lose that husband; did he still need to care whether his husband was happy?
He said it so uncompromisingly, leaving him no room to refuse at all. Man Yu had never been good at refusing others, and now he dared not refuse even more.
Fortunately, Sheng Lin was not at home during his susceptible period. He would go secretly, say whatever needed to be said secretly, and then come back. If Sheng Lin didn’t know, he wouldn’t get angry.
Lu Yinbing hung up the phone and finally remembered to flip through the documents in front of him from beginning to end.
In the column for Man Yu’s spouse, Sheng Lin’s name was written in stark black and white, with the marriage date three years ago.
Sheng Lin…
Lu Yinbing gave Assistant Zhou a new address and told him to bring over someone named Man Yu.
Lu Xingyun opened his mouth, and finally found his voice: “Brother, th-this isn’t really appropriate, is it…”
Someone else’s wife—just snatch him away?
After playing the role of a fawning eunuch for more than ten years, this was his first time playing the upright, forthright minister, and he was still a little short on courage.
Lu Yinbing was still looking at the booklet in his hand, not even lifting his head: “What do you understand?”
Was there something else he was supposed to understand?
“Get out.”
Lu Xingyun rolled out nimbly.
Lu Yinbing and Sheng Lin had known each other since middle school. Sheng Lin was three years ahead of Lu Yinbing. If you calculated carefully, they should count as childhood friends. Falling for a childhood friend’s wife and feeling no remorse was truly quite immoral.
Fortunately, Lu Yinbing had been born without morals.
It was only the new era that stood in his way. Wind the clock back a hundred or eighty years, when the Lu family was still in the old business—Lu Yinbing could have just brought people to snatch him. Why would there be so much trouble now, with divorces and this and that?
At a time like this, the depth of the Lu family’s upbringing showed.
While waiting, Lu Yinbing read through the materials completely, and his confidence grew a little more.
Man Yu did not live well at Sheng Lin’s side. Sheng Lin didn’t like him, and he also had a difficult mother-in-law. No wonder he had looked at him so pitifully that day.
If you live badly beside an old husband, what’s wrong with swapping to a new husband who can let you live well?
Man Yu had intended to seduce him, and he had conveniently accepted the seduction. The two of them hit it off immediately—two to one. What importance did Sheng Lin’s opinion have?
It just so happened that Sheng Lin didn’t like Man Yu either.
Sheng Lin’s taste remained low and incomprehensible; he only liked those tawdry, commonplace beauties.
Man Yu clutched his sleeve the whole way, riding to the destination in uneasy apprehension. Lu Yinbing’s people had come urgently; he hadn’t even had time to change into something decent—just ordinary loungewear, a black long-sleeved T-shirt that made his skin look even whiter. The lyocell cotton material clung softly to his body, outlining his thin frame, and his slender waist was faintly visible in the light.
The Lu family estate had been built three generations ago. At that time, they had not entirely shaken off nouveau riche aesthetics. The car spiraled up from the foot of the mountain, and the buildings that came into view resembled the Palace of Versailles. The moment Man Yu got out of the car and saw the villa, his legs went weak.
Secretary Zhou had dawdled at the entrance with Man Yu for quite a while. Man Yu refused to come, so he offhandedly said not to make President Lu angry. The other’s face went pale, and he followed along meekly.
He was still somewhat in the dark about Man Yu’s identity, but that didn’t stop him from offering a few pointers: “President Lu’s temper actually isn’t as bad as the rumors say. He’s still quite a good person. Whatever he asks, just tell the truth.”
It would have been better if he hadn’t offered the pointers; they only made Man Yu more afraid—more afraid than when his math teacher had called him alone to the office as a child.
He shifted his feet forward bit by bit, trying to stall for time, but unfortunately the Lu family had shuttle carts, and their six wheels rolled very fast.
More than a dozen buildings were spaced unevenly apart, and old-fashioned bronze carriages shuttled through the garden-like estate. It was Man Yu’s first time seeing a living white horse; its coat gleamed in the sunlight. He remembered he had only been to the Sheng residence once—the difference was like cloud and mud.
He probably understood why Sheng Lin was so servile before Lu Yinbing, and why he could never obtain Lu Yinbing.
In Mrs. Sheng’s words, there was a world of difference between his family background and the Sheng family’s. Families like theirs placed extreme importance on lineage, so the Sheng family would never look up to him. They only saw that he was honest and had temporarily allowed Sheng Lin to marry him.
Sheng Lin to the Lu family was probably as he was to the Sheng family.
If one discarded a person’s subjectivity and measured only by money and power, then he was unworthy of Sheng Lin, and Sheng Lin was unworthy of Lu Yinbing.
He didn’t quite agree with such a standard of measurement, but everyone measured things this way. His viewpoint was instead like a toad frantic over being unable to eat swan meat. Sometimes he let his thoughts wander and felt that he must be the one who was wrong.
Man Yu was brought into the reception room of Lu Yinbing’s study. He stood outside hesitating for a while, then was reminded that he didn’t need to take off his shoes, so he stepped onto that carpet—he didn’t know what material it was, but at a glance it was thick and expensive.
His footsteps made a soft rustle. He looked around without a sound. In the center was a huge antique bronze incense burner of a crane holding clouds—big enough to cook a person in.
On both sides were Chinese-style folding chairs, antique and elegant. On the table were fresh, dewy fruits and several kinds of exquisite tea snacks.
He stared at them for a while. The preparation was very complicated, and reproducing them would be somewhat difficult.
He didn’t dare examine anything else closely; he honestly lowered his eyes and hunched his shoulders.
Someone came to a stop before him, casting a huge shadow that completely blocked the sunlight from the window. From Man Yu’s angle, he could only see the other person’s shoe tips pressed against his own.
The herbal scent of saffron deepened from faint to strong. He didn’t dare breathe. His fingers, gripping his sleeve, tightened slightly and nearly poked through the thin fabric.
Lu Yinbing raised his hand and, just like last time, swept his hair up in one motion. Man Yu’s eyelashes trembled violently; he didn’t dare glance at him even once.
“Why are you just standing there?”
The place on his face where gauze had been stuck before was now bare, leaving a faint white mark. Lu Yinbing rubbed that spot with his little finger.
Man Yu squinted uncomfortably, his eyelids trembling.
Why was he touching him?
If he hadn’t had a full-body examination done, Lu Yinbing really would have suspected Man Yu had come carrying an aphrodisiac. Just one look and he was about to catch fire.
Small, suited to being held in one’s arms and kneaded. His fingers were slender too—one gentle bite and they could be bitten through.
He went straight to the point: “Divorce Sheng Lin. I don’t have a habit of being the third party.”
Man Yu was so frightened that he raised his eyes—it was no less than a thunderbolt splitting straight through his body. For a long time he couldn’t come back to himself, suspecting he had misheard.
What—what did that mean?
Lu Yinbing narrowed his eyes. His gaze licked inch by inch over Man Yu’s hair, his delicate brows, his moist eyes, and finally landed on his lips, which had parted slightly in fright.
Small, round, full—two petals. Perhaps because he had been frightened, they weren’t rosy, but dry and peeling, revealing a few glints of white teeth. Peering closely, one could even see the pink tip of his tongue.
His Adam’s apple rolled up and down several times.
As long as Man Yu nodded in agreement, he probably would have used his own rough tongue to lick and suck those two lips of Man Yu’s until they were moist and red and swollen, like two trembling, gorgeously blooming rose petals.
But Man Yu seemed to have been frightened silly, like a dazed wooden figure. Lu Yinbing could only patiently repeat: “Divorce Sheng Lin.”
This time Man Yu heard clearly. His tears rolled down with a swish, and he shook his head desperately: “No, don’t… please, please…”
Why did he want him to divorce Sheng Lin?
Didn’t Lu Yinbing dislike Sheng Lin?
Lu Yinbing had never expected Man Yu to refuse him. He simply couldn’t imagine what reason Man Yu could have to refuse him.
Man Yu cried pitifully, tears falling straight down. Even his crying was honest like the rest of him—he kept the sounds stifled in his throat, his body trembling again and again.
Lu Yinbing no longer wondered whether this was playing hard to get or whatever. In any case, he couldn’t quite work up a temper at him. It was as if his sarcastic system had automatically uninstalled and couldn’t load any words with a nasty tone. He wiped Man Yu’s tears with his thumb and somewhat helplessly negotiated with him: “Why? What do you want?”
What did Man Yu want?
He didn’t want to divorce, didn’t want to be abandoned, didn’t want to become a divorced Beta whom people pointed at behind his back.
He didn’t dare say it either, so he just kept silent.
He was trying to make Lu Yinbing impatient—to curse him, or beat him, or drive him away, so that this matter could be over and done with.
His tears were like a sluice gate opened wide. One of Lu Yinbing’s hands was no longer enough to keep up, so he cupped Man Yu’s face with both hands—so small, like holding a little bird—and wiped away each tear as it fell.
Lu Yinbing laughed and said, “You can cry this much—are you made of water? I didn’t hit you or scold you, so why are you crying? Look at me. Am I not good? Am I not better than Sheng Lin? The people chasing after me could circle the earth two hundred times.”
Never mind one Sheng Lin—even if eight hundred Sheng Lins were stacked together, any smart person should know whom to choose.
Man Yu thought he must have cried himself stupid. Lu Yinbing’s meaning seemed not to be for Sheng Lin’s sake, but for his.
How could that be?
He wasn’t pretty, wasn’t smart, had no charm, didn’t even have a career of his own. He was just a married, unremarkable Beta whom his husband didn’t like—and he was even six years older than Lu Yinbing.
How could Lu Yinbing take a fancy to him?
No, that was wrong—it was wrong!
Man Yu was already twenty-eight. He should have long since stopped being overly naive.
An older Beta always fantasizing about things that only appeared in wish-fulfillment Mary Sue novels—like an ordinary Beta unloved by his Alpha husband happening to have a superior Enigma pursue him and ruthlessly slap his husband’s face—was truly so stupid it made people jeer.
He wasn’t smart, but he wasn’t so stupid as to reach that point.
Lu Yinbing was joking with him, or, as he had heard, Lu Yinbing regarded him as a new toy.
If he really went wild with joy, thought he had ascended to the heavens in one step, and signed the divorce agreement with Sheng Lin, he would only end up miserably.
Or was Sheng Lin deliberately asking Lu Yinbing to trick him into signing the divorce agreement?
No, Sheng Lin probably didn’t have enough face to order Lu Yinbing around.
Just from having witnessed the Sheng family’s attitude toward him, he would not indulge in the beautiful dream that Lu Yinbing had fallen in love with him.
Fine—even taking ten thousand steps back, even if Lu Yinbing was somewhat interested in him now.
Even the Omegas around Sheng Lin were changed more frequently than clothes, let alone Lu Yinbing. Would he marry him? To these rich people, fidelity weighed less than a feather. Sheng Lin liked Lu Yinbing, and still had one bedmate on the left and another on the right.
In the end, wouldn’t he still come to no good? He would become a divorced Beta whom everyone pointed at, accused of vanity and greed.
Of course, the idea that Lu Yinbing was interested in him—just thinking about it with his toes told him it was impossible.
Most importantly, Man Yu was an honest person. He didn’t dare do such a thing, and he wouldn’t do such a thing. How could he betray his husband for another man?
He shook his head decisively.
Lu Yinbing’s smile gradually disappeared. He realized that Man Yu didn’t seem to be playing any game of playing hard to get.
He asked in return, as if joking: “You’re not refusing me because you like Sheng Lin, are you?”
But under his gaze, Man Yu lightly nodded.
He did still like him—ever since Sheng Lin helped him out of a tight spot.
“I-I won’t, won’t betray, betray, my, my-my, my husband’s…”
After saying that, he nodded harder.
Lu Yinbing’s smile froze.
He liked Sheng Lin?
It truly left one gaping in astonishment.
Lu Yinbing suspected Man Yu’s eyes were broken, for his taste to be so bad—practically on par with Sheng Lin’s. That cheap, shameless piece of trash Sheng Lin, who flirted with anyone at the drop of a hat—just how had he seduced Man Yu?
Seducing a simple, inexperienced, honest Beta, watching him fall head over heels and then treating him badly—was that interesting? He hadn’t misjudged Sheng Lin; his true nature really was hard to change. Truly despicable enough.
Man Yu had already said he liked Sheng Lin and wouldn’t divorce. Was he supposed to eagerly throw away his dignity and be someone’s third party? Or beg someone to divorce?
How long had they known each other? How many times had they met?
In this lifetime, he, Young Master Lu, had never begged anyone, nor done such a lowly deed—unless his brain was sick, sick beyond cure.
Lu Yinbing gave Man Yu five minutes. When he didn’t wait for him to change his words, he let go cleanly and gestured that the other could leave.
It wasn’t interesting. There were billions of people in the world; there wasn’t just one Man Yu.
Actually, he could just throw Sheng Lin into the high seas and then cage Man Yu up. Cage him for three years or two, and he’d probably accept his fate. Unfortunately, it was a new era; he had a complete plan, and the country also had a complete criminal code.
What a pity.
Lu Yinbing watched Man Yu’s fleeing back, then withdrew his gaze.