Chapter 30 Straight Guy Has a Brainwave [Second Update]

Chapter 30 Straight Guy's Sudden Inspiration [Second Update]

"Oh my god!!" Yuan Che nearly bounced in the car. "You're really taking me out to have fun?"

"Can you keep it down?" Lin Zaishan frowned, subtly glancing toward the driver in the front seat.

The two of them were in the car heading back from Lin Yajun's place. Lin Zaishan's car had been towed near the teahouse, so today he had to get the driver to pick them up.

"Sorry." Yuan Che immediately quieted down and obediently apologized. He remembered—with outsiders around, he couldn't be too loud, too flashy, and definitely couldn't call Lin Zaishan "hubby."

"So you're really taking me with you?" He leaned in closer, insisting on confirming one more time.

Lin Zaishan gave him a sidelong glance but didn't pull away. He was probably used to it by now. At this point, there was no "safe distance" left between him and this little fag. To put it nicely, they had "gotten close"; to be honest, he had just "given up."

"Yeah," he drawled lazily. "You want to go?"

The little fag's eyes went wide, and he nodded eagerly.

"I haven't even told you where we're going yet, and you already want to go?"

"Anywhere is fine, as long as I'm with you," the little fag said.

Lin Zaishan felt an inexplicable sense of comfort at that, but his mouth was still harsh: "So if I weren't going, you wouldn't go either?"

"I'd still want to go," Yuan Che blurted out without thinking. "I haven't gone out to have fun in a long time."

The moment those words landed, Lin Zaishan yanked his hand away.

Yes, the whole ride, their hands had been interlaced in a tight clasp. After last night, Yuan Che grabbed Lin Zaishan's hand every chance he got—sleeping, waking up, eating breakfast, on the way to Lin Yajun's place. After all that "desensitization testing," Lin Zaishan had fully accepted it: he started this, and now he had to swallow the bitter pill.

"What's wrong?" Yuan Che looked confused.

He tried to reach for Lin Zaishan's hand again, but sure enough, a light smack landed on the back of his hand. Actually, Yuan Che knew deep down that if Lin Zaishan pulled away, he probably didn't want to hold hands. He just wanted to test whether the man was tired of holding on or genuinely angry.

The light smack on his hand made it clear: he was angry.

"Why are you angry?" he leaned in and asked carefully.

Lin Zaishan stared ahead expressionlessly, replying with a question: "Do you know who else is going?"

"No..."

"Your good friend," Lin Zaishan finally turned to him, slowly drawing out two words, "Xiaozhou."

He said it with meaning, watching Yuan Che's expression the whole time. Sure enough, the man's face visibly darkened at the name "Xiaozhou."

"Why do you call him 'Xiaozhou'?" The tone clearly showed he was annoyed.

Lin Zaishan let out a cold laugh. "Why can't I call him that? What, only you get to call him that?"

At that, fire flashed in Yuan Che's eyes. He opened his mouth as if to snap back, then stopped himself. He stared at Lin Zaishan for a few seconds before abruptly turning his head to look out the window.

Lin Zaishan watched that familiar back of the head and felt his anger boiling over.

Oh great, jealous again?

And then he remembered that disgustingly sappy "Dear Xiaozhou" on the letter paper—he was about to blow a fuse. Seriously, are you two putting on a show of deep, passionate romance for me?

Originally, he had only planned to inform Yuan Che, leaving it open whether to go or not; at least he'd passed the message along. After all, this time that pretty boy personally asked him to relay it, so he couldn't just play dead like he had with Lin Wenjun. The guy greeted him with a smile, had tea, and passed on the message—if he acted aloof, it would make him look petty.

But seeing Yuan Che's reaction now, he suddenly thought—he had to go!

If he didn't go, wouldn't he look like a coward? Like he lacked confidence? Like he was pulling some "keeping a lover locked away in a gilded cage" routine?

He leaned back in his seat, his mind racing.

No, this was no longer about whether to go or not.

He suddenly realized his situation was rather delicate. Since childhood, when had he ever had to read someone else's face in a relationship? In business, people begged him; in romance, people chased him. He had always been the one everyone fought over and tried to please.

But now? One was his nominal "wife," and the other was his wife's side piece. The two of them were flirting and vying for favor across him, and he was the one left out in the cold?

Most importantly, when that pretty boy looked at him during their meeting today, that defiant look made it clear he saw Lin Zaishan as a rival in love. Obviously, Lin Zaishan's presence had already made him feel threatened.

Exactly what he wanted!

He, Lin Zaishan, nearly thirty years old, let himself be isolated by two gays?

He wasn't about to swallow that.

But he quickly calmed down. Getting angry was useless; making a scene was even more so—this little fag responds better to gentle persuasion than force, he knew that too well. Yesterday he beat the guy up, and in the end, it was him who lowered his head, apologized, and took the initiative to hold hands.

He needed a different approach.

Lin Zaishan shifted his gaze from that stubborn nape to look out the window, crossed his arms, and fell into thought again.

To be honest, it wasn't that he absolutely had to see Yu Yizhou, nor was it about competing for superiority. It was simply male pride acting up—losing to a pretty boy in a competition, how humiliating!

Besides, the way the little fag clung to him normally didn't seem fake. Maybe the guy had been pining for him all along, just too slow-witted to realize it himself.

So what he needed to do now wasn't to compete, but to win. Not the petty kind of winning with jealousy, but the kind where he made the little fag willingly erase "Dear Xiaozhou" from his mind completely. Only then could he rid himself of this bitterness. Otherwise, this thorn would stick in his heart forever.

Yes, that's it.

Lin Zaishan quickly regathered his composure, and when he turned to look at that back of the head again, most of his irritation had faded—fine, you want to throw a tantrum? Fine, I'll coax you.

"Yuan Che," he called softly, and once again, skillfully took the man's hand.

But to his surprise, this time, as soon as he reached out, Yuan Che yanked his hand away and withdrew it entirely, not even turning his head.

Lin Zaishan was stunned.

The reaction was both familiar and unexpected. Familiar because his ex-girlfriends used the same move when angry—pull away, turn head, silent treatment. He could handle that in his sleep. Unexpected because the same move appeared on a man.

Men do this too?

He frowned for a moment, then suddenly let out a soft laugh. He seemed to understand why he couldn't be calm around Yuan Che—

It was because he had been treating Yuan Che like a man the whole time!

Because from start to finish, he saw Yuan Che as a man, he was so repulsed, resistant, and even occasionally disgusted. Sometimes, in anger, he couldn't help but get physical—fighting a man was normal; he never lost a fight growing up. But if he thought of Yuan Che as his real wife, he definitely wouldn't act like a jerk. Forget pinching ears or squeezing arms—if Yuan Che were his real wife, he'd be the one getting hit by his wife.

With that thought, everything suddenly cleared up.

Following this logic, there was only one way to make Yuan Che loyal to him and forget the pretty boy: treat this little fag like his queen and spoil him rotten!

Yeah, that's the plan.

Just as he was mulling it over, his "main wife" quietly turned his head back. Probably because Lin Zaishan had called him once and then gone silent, the guy became curious. His eyes, fixed on Lin Zaishan, held a mix of hurt and confusion.

The moment their eyes met, Lin Zaishan was back to full strength. In his view, as long as there was a plan, anything was manageable. So without hesitation, he raised a hand to touch his wife's face as a gesture of comfort.

Just as his hand was about to reach out—

His wife suddenly instinctively raised his arm, reflexively shielding his head.

Lin Zaishan's hand hung awkwardly in midair. He froze for a moment before realizing—this man thought he was going to hit him again.

This realization pricked him like a very fine needle. He suddenly remembered the purple bruises on Yuan Che's arm from last night, and how this man had silently endured being pinched... As he thought about it, a hint of guilt rose from the depths of Lin Zaishan's heart. His heart, once full of playful malice, inexplicably softened.

"Yuan Che?" He called out subconsciously, with a softness he didn't even notice in himself.

Silence fell for a few seconds.

Once he confirmed he was safe, Yuan Che gently lowered the hand protecting his head and looked at Lin Zaishan tentatively. But before he could figure out what was going on, the next second, he was pulled into a hug.

The hug came so suddenly. Yuan Che was stunned for a long moment before stunned to realize that he was actually being held in Lin Zaishan's arms. He didn't even have time to enjoy the hug; his first reaction was to check if the driver up front had noticed.

But just as he raised his head, Lin Zaishan firmly pressed it back down with his hand.

"Don't move," Lin Zaishan ordered in a low voice.

The voice was muffled in Yuan Che's ear, sounding a bit fierce, but the hand pressing on the back of his head never let go.

Yuan Che immediately didn't dare move, obediently resting his head on Lin Zaishan's shoulder and trying to curl himself up. After all, he was too tall, so curling up like this was really awkward. But he still hunched over as best he could, adjusted several positions, and finally found a spot he could barely fit into before letting out a sigh of relief.

Once he was sure Lin Zaishan was comfortable holding him, he spoke in a low voice.

"Honey, what if the driver sees us?"

"Impossible," Lin Zaishan shot back flatly, then tightened his hold.

Yuan Che sighed inwardly. He had driven before, and it was easy to see the back seats from the driver's seat. He didn't know why Lin Zaishan was suddenly so willful, especially when he had made the rules so clear earlier.

Could it be to comfort him?

If that was Lin Zaishan's goal, then he had indeed succeeded. Originally, Yuan Che felt very upset, even determined to have a serious talk with Lin Zaishan about Yu Yizhou. But now that he was suddenly held in someone's arms, he didn't know where to start. All the words he had rehearsed in his mind were quieted by the hug.

Thinking of this, he felt both comforted and helpless. Lin Zaishan was the person he loved most in this world. In front of Lin Zaishan, he could never have the upper hand.

So be it.

He buried his face into Lin Zaishan's shoulder again, and gently placed both hands on Lin Zaishan's back, his movements cautious, as if handling something precious and fragile.

But just as his hand touched Lin Zaishan's jacket, he suddenly thought of a question—

"Honey," he lowered his voice, with genuine confusion in his tone, "Where's your suit jacket?"

The arms holding him stiffened noticeably.

The car was silent for two seconds.

Lin Zaishan opened his mouth but found he had no idea how to answer this question, because he had left his jacket in Yu Yizhou's car...