Chapter 18 Ex-Girlfriend

Chapter 18: Ex-Girlfriend

No, technically it wasn't 'hugging'—it was just the little gay holding onto him. Sometimes clinging to his arm, sometimes wrapping around his waist. Occasionally, when he finished work late and got into bed, thinking he could finally get some peace, the little gay would start burrowing into his arms the moment he lay down. The craziest part? Several times, he woke up to find *himself* being the one wrapped in the little gay’s arms.

Anyway, no matter how you look at it, this problem had to be solved.

But when he asked the little gay, the reply was always that he had no idea how to contact the maid. Lin Zaishan brought it up deliberately a few times, and every single time, he got the same answer. Staring at the little gay’s clueless face, he couldn’t tell if the guy genuinely didn’t know or was just faking it.

So, at the breakfast table, Lin Zaishan brought up the topic for the umpteenth time.

“Baby,” he called softly toward the busy figure in the kitchen, “I’ve been thinking—we gotta find that maid you brought from the island.”

Yuan Che turned around, spatula still in hand, looking a bit dazed. “But...”

“I know you don’t have the address.” Lin Zaishan cut him off. “But think about it, doing it all yourself is tiring, right?”

Yuan Che gave him a gentle smile. “It's okay. Not that hard.”

With that, he set the plate down in front of Lin Zaishan and turned back to the kitchen to make coffee.

Lin Zaishan stared at the steaming fried tomato sandwich on his plate and went back to thinking.

Over the past few days, to test whether Yuan Che really didn’t know the maid’s address, he’d deliberately fired all the maids and dumped all the chores on Yuan Che.

At first, the little gay really was clumsy, but within a few days, he’d gotten the hang of it. Unwilling to give up, Lin Zaishan had even asked Lin Yajun to stop sending breakfast and dumped the cooking on Yuan Che too. The guy agreed without hesitation and actually started learning how to cook.

The kitchen was a total mess at first—Yuan Che’s arms were covered in red spots from splattering oil. The first time Lin Zaishan saw them, he was genuinely startled. The little gay had such fair, delicate skin, and those burns looked especially harsh. His heart was pounding—he was scared something bad would happen. But a few days later, he noticed the red spots first inflamed, then turned black, and eventually disappeared. So he stopped worrying about it. For him, as long as Yuan Che didn't get hurt in a way the Yuan family would notice, a little hardship didn't matter.

Watching the little gay run around the kitchen every day, Lin Zaishan felt not a shred of guilt. The reason was simple: he still didn't buy that the guy actually needed a maid to sleep with him. After all, he’d already offered to personally find someone to sleep beside him, and Yuan Che had flatly refused. The excuse? The maid had to have been trained on the island.

If that claim had been made when they first met, he might have believed it. But after seeing all this little brat's stunts, it was hard to convince himself of such a baseless story. At the end of the day, it's just he wants to sleep with me, right?

Lin Zaishan stared at Yuan Che’s back as he worked in the kitchen, getting more annoyed by the second.

“Why do you make vegetarian breakfast every day?” He couldn’t help picking a fight.

“'Cause I can't eat the meat here, I told you.”

Yuan Che smiled, carefully placed an iced coffee in front of Lin Zaishan, then sat down nicely across from him, holding his own big bowl of green salad and eating it in small bites.

Lin Zaishan looked at his bowl of lettuce, then at his own tomato sandwich, his frown getting deeper.

Yes, the little gay had said it—exact words: “I can’t eat meat that hasn’t been purified.” He’d cut him off before he could finish, having zero interest in the Yuan family's weird superstitious crap. Fine, don’t eat meat then. He only had this one breakfast at home anyway.

But he’d been eating vegetarian for half a month now, and it was making him feel off.

“If you wanna be vegetarian, be vegetarian,” Lin Zaishan said as he picked up his coffee, his tone tinged with impatience. “But why do you make vegetarian food for me too?”

Unexpectedly, the question made the guy across from him freeze like he'd been stunned, nearly burying his face in his bowl. In less than a minute, both his ears turned bright red.

Lin Zaishan glanced at him, half annoyed, half amused. “What’s going on? Speak.”

“It’s... it’s just that...” Yuan Che finally looked up, his eyes carrying a hint of intense seriousness. “Making you eat vegetarian in the morning is because I’m worried that...”

“Worried?” Lin Zaishan frowned, taking a casual sip of coffee. “Worried about what?”

“Worried that if you kiss me goodbye, then… what then?”

“Pfft—”

Lin Zaishan sprayed coffee all over.

Yuan Che jumped up scared to grab some napkins, but Lin Zaishan quickly waved him off. “You—don’t come over here!”

Yuan Che stopped mid-step, holding up the napkins, blinking all innocent. “I just wanted to wipe your face.”

“I got it myself!” Lin Zaishan snatched a few sheets, messily wiped his face, and tossed the wet towels aside.

Yuan Che obediently sat back down, looking totally confused. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Lin Zaishan had barely caught his breath yet, and seeing that idiot sitting there looking clueless made him even more furious.

But what was the use of being angry?

He couldn't talk his way out of this one. The little gay saw him as a husband—it's only natural he'd think that. The problem was, Lin Zaishan himself wasn’t gay! He couldn’t just say, “Give up hope.”

Lin Zaishan held the crumpled napkin in his hand, staring at Yuan Che like he was a ticking time bomb.

Lately, he'd thought the little gay was settling down. Aside from wanting to cuddle when they slept, he never came too close without permission. Lin Zaishan had assumed the little gay had finally come to his senses and learned the rules.

But what was the reality?

He's been waiting every day for me to kiss him?

Lin Zaishan gritted his teeth, pissed off.

But as he thought about it, a key question hit him—

“Why do I gotta eat vegetarian just 'cause I might kiss you?”

Yuan Che looked up, his eyes all sparkly.

“'Cause if you eat meat and then kiss me, ain't you basically making me eat meat too?”

Lin Zaishan froze.

Two seconds later, it hit him—

*Fuck!! You're thinking about making out with me?!*

A surge of anger shot up, and he barely held back the disgust churning inside him. His voice was stiff. “Tell me—other than waiting for me to kiss you, what else are you waiting for?”

The question clearly caught the other person off guard. Yuan Che’s eyes widened, then he immediately lowered his head. The heat in his earlobes only got worse, turning a fiercer red.

This bashful young guy act didn't stir an ounce of pity in Lin Zaishan.

He stared at those two burning ears, his tone filled with nothing but irritation. “Speak.”

“I want to hug you too...” Yuan Che whispered.

“Don't you already hug me plenty in bed every night?”

“That’s different.” Yuan Che suddenly lifted his head, his gaze firm and earnest. “In bed is in bed. I want to hug you in daily life too, outside—”

“Stop.” Lin Zaishan raised a hand to cut him off. “Just give up on that idea.”

Yuan Che looked at him, the light in his eyes slowly dimming.

“Why?” he asked, his voice laced with undisguised sadness.

“Yes, why?” Lin Zaishan started thinking too.

He looked at the little fag, his head drooping, and for a moment didn’t know what to say. This was tricky—turn him down and he’d be crushed; if he was too subtle, this guy wouldn’t take the hint; if he kept stalling, the guy would be waiting every day for a kiss.

Thinking about it now, the priority was to find that bed-warming servant. If this cuddling kept up, he wouldn’t be able to fake it much longer.

“Besides your sister, you know anyone else on the mainland?” Lin Zaishan changed the subject.

Yuan Che looked up, thought for a moment, and said, “A lot.”

“A lot of people?” Lin Zaishan was taken aback. “Who, for example?”

“Master Liang Luying, Master Duan Chunlai, Master Fu Changqing, Dong—”

“Stop,” Lin Zaishan interrupted. “You know Master Duan Chunlai?”

Yuan Che nodded.

Lin Zaishan was stunned.

He didn’t recognize the other names, but Duan Chunlai was one of China’s top calligraphers, a titan in the modern calligraphy scene. Back when Feng Tai was alive, he once took Lin Zaishan to meet old Mr. Duan in Beijing. At the time, the old man was already in poor health and passed away a couple of years later.

And this little yokel claimed to know him?

“Do you know what he does?” Lin Zaishan asked, half-doubtful.

“Master Duan is a calligrapher.”

“Then how do you know him? Saw him on TV or something?”

Yuan Che shook his head. “We didn’t have a TV. It was when I was little; Master Duan came to the island to teach me calligraphy.”

Lin Zaishan almost laughed out loud.

Here we go again.

This little dummy was spouting nonsense again. Duan Chunlai went to an island to teach him calligraphy? Why not say he was his godfather?

Lin Zaishan coughed dryly, gave him a look of exasperation, and decided to steer the conversation in a more believable direction. “Forget the famous names. I’m asking, is there any ordinary person you know on the mainland?”

“Yes,” Yuan Che thought seriously. “We had a neighbor on the island before, Yu Yizhou. He lives on the mainland now.”

Lin Zaishan’s eyes lit up.

That’s the one!

“Perfect!” He got up, walked over to Yuan Che, and asked, “Do you have his address or phone number?”

Yuan Che looked up at the man standing beside him. “Is an address enough?”

“Of course!” Lin Zaishan was in a great mood and patted Yuan Che’s shoulder. “Give me the address; I’ll send someone to look into it.”

“Look into what?” Yuan Che was a bit puzzled.

Lin Zaishan bent down, lowering his voice as if coaxing a child. “Since he lived on the island, he must have your housekeeper’s contact info, right? We’ll ask him to track down your bedmate. That way you won’t have to work, and we can both sleep soundly.”

He paused, a smile on his lips, almost convincing himself.

But the guy he was trying to sweet-talk wasn’t buying it.

Yuan Che looked up seriously and said, “But I like sleeping with you.”

Lin Zaishan smiled as if he had expected this. “You sleep fine, but I don’t. Remember? I’m not used to sharing a bed.”

He pulled back his smile and put on a slightly troubled expression. “Or… do you not care at all about whether I sleep well? You don’t give a damn about your husband?”

At these words, Yuan Che fell silent, frowning, looking troubled.

Lin Zaishan smirked to himself.

Fine. If soft tactics didn’t work, he’d have to get tough.

He straightened up, turned around, grabbed his suit jacket from the sofa, and started to walk out—today, he had to teach this little fag some manners. If he didn’t listen, he wouldn’t get a kind look.

But just a few steps out, Yuan Che’s voice called after him.

“I do care about you.”

Lin Zaishan froze mid-step.

“There’s no one else in my heart except you.”

When Lin Zaishan got to the office, his first move was to have someone dig up Yu Yizhou’s contact info.

He stared at the address Yuan Che had written for a long time. The more he looked at it, the more uneasy he felt. No one seemed trustworthy enough for this job. What if people found out Lin Zaishan was snooping around about his wife’s neighbor? How would that look?

After going back and forth a bit, he finally called Meng Lang.

Meng Lang was basically Lin Zaishan’s childhood friend. His dad, Meng Shikai, was thick as thieves with Feng Tai. The two grew up together, and Lin Zaishan had always been the ringleader, loving to boss everyone around. Meng Lang, a year younger, had always listened to him, following him around day in and day out, doing whatever Lin Zaishan said.

Later, Meng Lang went to Australia to coast through college, but halfway in he dropped out without a degree and almost got entrapped by some Chinese expats who tried to hook him on something illegal. Lin Zaishan was in his senior year, the busiest time, but when he heard about it through the grapevine, he flew from the US to Australia that same night.

When they met, he didn’t say a word and just yanked the guy back to China. On the 10-plus-hour flight, he spoke not a single word to Meng Lang.

Meng Lang was terrified, trembling the whole time. Halfway through, he finally relaxed a bit, thinking his big brother was going to let him off.

But as soon as the plane touched down, Lin Zaishan dragged him to the safety passage of the terminal and beat him up. After the beating, he had the driver take him to the hospital for a checkup. Only after confirming nothing was wrong did he drag the bruised Meng Lang back to the Meng family, explain the whole story to Meng Shikai, and leave.

That night, Meng Lang had one of his legs broken by his father. Adding old and new injuries, he lay in bed recovering for over a month.

But the beating wasn’t for nothing. Later, Meng Lang successfully graduated, returned to China, and focused on managing the family’s leather goods business. The company ran smoothly. Since then, Lin Zaishan was practically a lifesaver in the Meng family. No matter how busy Meng Shikai was, whenever Lin Zaishan visited, he would make time to come home and receive him at the highest standard of a family banquet. Eventually, Lin Zaishan felt too embarrassed to go.

Now, Meng Lang was a company boss and a well-known second-generation rich kid on the outside, but in front of Lin Zaishan, he was always the most devoted lackey.

Meng Lang was much more steady now. If he had one bad habit left, it was eating. He was a chubby kid when he was little, and now he was a big fat guy, always on a diet but never succeeding.

The phone rang, and a heavy panting sound came through. Lin Zaishan knew instantly—this guy was on his diet again.

He didn’t waste words. He briefly explained what needed to be done and prepared to hang up.

But the fat man on the other end wasn’t having it. Panting, he yelled something, but the background noise from the gym was too loud, and with him talking and breathing, Lin Zaishan couldn’t make it out.

He was about to tell him to get off the treadmill first, but then thought—if that lazy bastard got off, he’d probably never get back on. His gut was already that big; he really needed to lose weight.

He hung up. A moment later, a text popped up.

From the fat man again.

“Bro, there’s a party tonight. You in?”

Lin Zaishan was about to reply without a second thought. These past few days, to avoid giving the little fag any ammunition, he’d turned down almost all of Meng Lang’s invites. He also bailed on evening functions when possible, since those often involved some form of entertainment. This was a crucial moment—he absolutely couldn’t let that guy find any fault before he left.

But the next text made Lin Zaishan change his mind. “Wina’s coming too.”