Chapter 8 My Husband Seems to Have a Wife

Chapter 8: My Husband Seems to Have a Wife

"Y-you... what did you call him?" Lin Yajun's eyes went wide.

Yuan Che was taken aback by the question. He blinked and repeated matter-of-factly, "Hubby."

Lin Yajun felt her blood pressure shoot up. She pressed a hand to her temple, her whole body swayed—although she had mentally prepared herself, hearing some other man call her son "hubby" was way more shocking than she'd expected.

"Mom!" Yuan Che instinctively stood up, strode over to her in a few long strides, bent down and asked with concern, "Are you okay?!"

The sudden closeness made Lin Yajun jerk back. She quickly waved her hands, "It's nothing, nothing. Just go back and sit down!"

"But you look terrible," Yuan Che said, his hands hovering in the air, looking at a loss, yet he still insisted on pointing out his observation. "You look like you're about to cry!"

She was about to cry, but more like wanting to with no tears coming.

Lin Yajun shook off the dizziness, moved her chair back a little, and said softly but firmly, holding her forehead, "I'm really fine. Please go sit down, okay?"

The gentle tone reassured Yuan Che. He obediently said "Okay," returned to his seat, picked up his utensils, and carefully used tongs to serve himself a small portion of vegetable salad. He hadn't eaten since this morning, and he was really starving.

Lin Yajun caught her breath and watched the person across from her eating salad in small bites with concentration. The more she looked, the colder her heart grew—this kid was just too strange!

"Yuan, Yuan Che," she began hesitantly, hinting tactfully, "You can try the other dishes too."

"I know, Mom," Yuan Che waited till he swallowed before answering earnestly. "I just love salad."

"...My name is Lin Yajun," she said, drawing a line. "From now on, you can call me Aunt Lin."

"No way!" Yuan Che refuted almost immediately, his face full of surprise and disapproval. "My husband's mother ought to be called 'Mom.'"

Faced with this sudden persistence, Lin Yajun was again at a loss for words. She looked into Yuan Che's eyes, even suspecting that he was deliberately challenging her.

"Just call me Aunt Lin," she said in a firmer tone. Getting shown up by her 'male daughter-in-law' on the first day? That would never do.

"Why?" Yuan Che set down his fork, looking confused. "Does my hubby also call you 'Aunt'?"

"What?" Lin Yajun was taken aback. "O-of course not!"

"So however he calls you, I'll call you that," Yuan Che concluded matter-of-factly again, with simple and direct logic that was impossible to refute.

Lin Yajun was stumped again. Before she could answer, he hit her with another question: "By the way, Mom, why does my hubby have your last name Lin? Or does Dad have the last name Lin too?"

"Dad?" she repeated subconsciously.

"Right, Dad," Yuan Che said, then looked around. "Why haven't I seen Dad? Is Dad resting upstairs?"

"Upstairs?" Lin Yajun grew more and more confused by his question—this penthouse apartment had no upstairs.

"Yes," Yuan Che replied matter-of-factly, pointing upward. "Isn't upstairs our home?"

At that, Lin Yajun finally got it—no wonder this guy was so weird. Turns out he was a country bumpkin in the city for the first time, with no clue about city life or high-rise buildings!

Realizing this, her fragile sense of superiority swelled into a mix of pity and contempt deep in Lin Yajun's heart.

So, once a bandit, always a bandit. The father was a provincial island nouveau riche, and his son was just as naive and narrow-minded. The more she thought about it, the more frustrated she became. Her son had excelled in everything since childhood. His exes were Ivy League elites or internationally famous supermodels. How could he, on the cusp of thirty, have thrown himself into such a "bandit's den"?

The more she worried, the less she ate. After a few perfunctory words, she escaped to the living room.

Meanwhile, Yuan Che realized he'd misspoken.

It seemed Lin Zaishan's family was even worse off than he'd thought. Asking thoughtlessly about an upstairs had hit a sore spot. Thinking of this, he was filled with regret. Moreover, it was obvious that Mom's expression had worsened after hearing that question. After dinner, she'd just quickly set up his room and then sat alone on the sofa, looking dejected.

Actually, Yuan Che was exhausted. After a long day of bumpy travel by car and boat, he just wanted to shower and crash. But he'd accidentally hurt her feelings and felt terrible. After thinking it over, he decided he should go keep Mom company, at least to let her know that he was absolutely not a snob who looked down on others.

So he quickly finished his salad, set down his utensils, and stood up to walk to the living room. He'd planned to sit on the single sofa across, but thought that would be too distant. To show he definitely wasn't the type to look down on the poor and his desire to be close, he carefully sat down on the sofa right next to her.

Lin Yajun was reading, head down, completely unaware of the movement behind her. It wasn't until the sofa dipped beside her and his shadow fell over her that she noticed. She was so startled she yelped and dropped her book.

Yuan Che was also startled by her yelp. He quickly scooted over, leaning against the armrest of the sofa, and beat her to the punch: "Mom, you scared me to death!"

Lin Yajun snapped: "Who scared who?! The sofa is so big, did you have to sit practically on top of me?"

Yuan Che looked puzzled: "This sofa... is it big?"

"What did you say?!" Lin Yajun was furious at his clueless expression.

"N-nothing," Yuan Che quickly denied, cursing himself inwardly: Why do I keep inadvertently saying such condescending things!

"Alright, alright," Lin Yajun waved her hand weakly, wanting to end this suffocating close contact as soon as possible. "Go sit over there."

"Oh." He obediently stood up, picked up the book, handed it to her, and sat meekly on the other sofa.

The "mother and son" sat close to each other, and the atmosphere quickly stiffened again. With this person nearby, Lin Yajun couldn't focus on her book, while the other seemed perfectly at ease, sitting down and looking around, the classic look of someone who hasn't seen much of the world.

However, Lin Yajun noticed one thing: even though he seemed rustic, his dining etiquette was quite proper, even elegant. He stood tall, sat straight, and with that handsome face, he had a kind of refined young master's aura. When he didn't speak, he could be quite convincing—

"Mom! Is that a photo of my hubby?"

The moment he opened his mouth, it was all ruined.

Lin Yajun sighed inwardly and followed Yuan Che's gaze—on the mantelpiece sat a photo of Lin Zaishan from high school.

"Mm." She responded flatly, deliberately lifting her book, not wanting to continue this topic.

"Can I take a look?"

"...Go ahead."

After receiving permission, Yuan Che immediately strode forward and carefully took the frame down from the mantelpiece.

In the photo, Lin Zaishan stood on a lush lawn, wearing a simple black polo shirt, standing straight and tall in the center of the frame, his long legs particularly striking. His smile was relaxed, his eyes bright, and he exuded this carefree, youthful energy Yuan Che had never seen before, completely different from the composed and reserved manner he had when they first met. Only his handsome and deep features remained clear, and even through the glass, you could feel the sun-drenched handsomeness.

"Xiaoshan was seventeen then, studying high school in Canada." Although Lin Yajun's eyes were on the page, her voice couldn't help but drift over, with a kind of maternal pride. "He looks a bit darker than now, because he went surfing in Los Angeles in the summer. Even then, tons of people were after him—and still are."

In her eyes, her son excelled in everything. From childhood, he was the center of attention, receiving plenty of flowers and chocolates on Valentine's Day and Christmas. A son like this paired with a country bumpkin nouveau riche was a pearl before swine—a complete mismatch. Between the lines, she couldn't help but want to make this clear.

"Even tanned, he looks good," Yuan Che said sincerely while holding the photo. "I like him no matter what he looks like."

This made Lin Yajun raise an eyebrow. She looked up and saw Yuan Che staring intently at the photo, completely engrossed. His lovesick look made her can't help but "enlighten" him with a hint of superiority: "You like him, and others do too. After you get married, you'll know how hard it is."

"I already know now," Yuan Che finally looked away from the photo and met Lin Yajun's eyes, his gaze clear and open. "My father is liked by many people. If many people also like my hubby, that means he's outstanding. I'll be happy for him."

"What did you say?" Lin Yajun was stunned once again—she never imagined the countryside had become so open-minded now?

Before Yuan Che could answer, her phone rang first. Before she could even answer it, Yuan Che's eyes lit up: "Mom, is it my hubby?"

Lin Yajun frowned and looked down—sure enough, it was him. She sighed again, a bit helplessly, and answered the phone. She had just said "Hello" when Yuan Che had already scooted over to her end of the sofa, ears perked up, listening intently.

Lin Yajun's attention was already off the call—Yuan Che's lovesick expression truly shocked her. How deep was his love that he couldn't even let a phone call go by?

"Mom, has my boyfriend arrived?" Lin Zaishan's voice came over the phone.

The word "boyfriend" once again stabbed Lin Yajun's fraying nerves. She couldn't bear to listen to this call for even a second longer. She murmured "Mm" into the phone, immediately stood up, and thrust the phone into Yuan Che's hands as if passing off a hot potato, then turned and walked straight toward her bedroom without looking back.

Under the current circumstances, she even felt a bit of resentment toward her son and didn't want to say another word.

In contrast to her, Yuan Che took the phone like it was a treasure, immediately lifted it to his ear and called out again, "Husband."

On the other end, Lin Zaishan, probably not expecting the person on the line to have changed, paused a few seconds before letting out a low "Mm." That brief sound was like honey poured into Yuan Che's heart, and as the sound faded, his whole heart felt like it was melting completely.

"Husband, where are you?" he asked, holding the phone, his voice brimming with joy.

"On a business trip out of town," came the concise reply from the other end. But as if feeling he should say more, Lin Zaishan cleared his throat lightly and asked, "Are you getting used to living there?"

Not used to it, not at all. Your house is too small, the staff too few, and there are barely any dishes I can eat. The complaints almost burst out of him, but he didn't want to cause trouble for Lin Zaishan, who was working hard away from home. After thinking it over, he just let out a soft "Mm," then blurted out the question that had been lingering in his mind, making him uneasy:

"Husband... why do I feel like Mom doesn't really like me?"

He lowered his voice, asking while guiltily glancing toward Lin Yajun's tightly closed bedroom door, confirming no one was coming out before letting out a slight sigh of relief. But perhaps his voice was too soft—the other end didn't answer.

"Husband?" Yuan Che called out, puzzled.

"Mm, I'm here." Lin Zaishan's reassuring voice came again, but his tone sounded somewhat businesslike and flat. "I don't know much about the situation between you and your mother yet, so... I can't really give you any advice for now."

This somewhat indifferent response made Yuan Che a bit sad, but then he thought it over: Lin Zaishan wasn't there, so it made sense that he didn't know. He was about to ask when Lin Zaishan would come back, when suddenly a woman's voice came over the phone, soft and sweet, with a hint of laughter, as if she had also addressed Lin Zaishan by a term of endearment.

Yuan Che's heart clenched. He was just about to ask what was going on when the line went dead with a sharp beep.

Lin Zaishan had hung up.

He stood there, staring at the now-silent phone, stunned for a long moment. Before he could make sense of it, the doorbell rang.

At first, Yuan Che didn't move, but when the doorbell rang again, he remembered—the housekeeper had finished cleaning up after dinner and left. He stood up quickly and headed for the front door.

There were too many decorations in the house. As he passed the entryway, he smacked his shin hard against a tabletop sculpture. Worried the noise might disturb his mother in such a small house, he winced in pain but didn't dare make a sound. He rubbed his leg and opened the door.

As the door swung open, the person outside immediately cried out in surprise, "Young master, what happened to you!"

"What are you doing here?" Yuan Che, still bent over, managed to ask in a strained voice.

"Of course it's me, young master," said Sun Qi, carrying luggage, looking at Yuan Che's flushed face, deeply concerned. "There weren't many boats to the mainland today, so I waited a long time before getting on. After getting off, I followed the address the butler gave me to find you. Are you... okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Yuan Che waved his hand. "Come on in."

"Sure!" Sun Qi replied excitedly, stepping forward to enter.

But before she could step inside, Yuan Che suddenly thought—he had already made his mother uncomfortable by saying the wrong thing earlier. If he now brought a servant from home, wouldn't that be obviously showing off his wealth!

"Forget it!" he changed his mind immediately, raising his hand to block her. "You have to go!"

"Huh?" Sun Qi froze, one foot inside the door, one foot out, looking utterly bewildered. "Young master, I... where should I go?"

"Anywhere, just not here."

"But your luggage..."

"Take the luggage with you too!"

"But, young master..." Sun Qi looked at the heavy suitcase in her hands, then at Yuan Che's unusually serious face, confused.

Yuan Che quickly glanced back toward the living room, lowered his voice, and spoke rapidly: "Okay, no 'buts'. Go back first, and when I have time... I'll write to you, okay?"

Without waiting for Sun Qi's reaction, he waved his hand hastily toward the door, signaling her to leave quickly.

Sun Qi, dizzy from the barrage of commands, saw Yuan Che's anxious expression and didn't dare ask questions. She simply nodded, lifted the heavy luggage she had just set down, and murmured, "Then... young master, take care." She retreated step by step, turning back several times.

Yuan Che almost immediately closed the door, then leaned back against it, letting out a long sigh of relief.

However, before he could fully catch his breath, the faint, intimate voice of that woman from the phone call just now inexplicably echoed in his ears again.

If... if he hadn't misheard...

That woman seemed to have called Lin Zaishan "husband" too, just as he had.