“Playing around out of boredom?”
Chen Xingjian didn’t have much expression on his face, merely repeating what Lian Que had just said.
Lian Que’s heart started beating a little drum inside. Unsure of what Chen Xingjian meant, he had no choice but to tentatively and carefully inquire, “Sir, if you don’t like it, I won’t participate?”
Chen Xingjian pushed the invitation letter back into Lian Que’s hands and spoke, “The judges of this audition won’t look kindly on you just playing around.”
The judges?
Lian Que’s eyes brightened. He naturally looped his arm around Chen Xingjian’s, pressed it against his chest, and shook it slightly. “Sir, will you be a judge?”
“Why would I be a judge?” Chen Xingjian looked at Lian Que’s shining eyes and unusually decided to explain a bit further. “Yuanhe is just a small branch of the Chen Group; I don’t have time to help their management make decisions with such meticulous detail.”
Lian Que took the invitation letter handed over by Chen Xingjian and clutched it tightly in his palm, as if he were holding a one-million-prize that was currently incubating and hatching.
Was a million dollars a lot of money?
He had never actually seen a real million dollars before. If he withdrew all one million from the bank, would it fill up a large suitcase?
As Lian Que was daydreaming about the wonderful life he would have after owning a million dollars, his hand suddenly felt heavy, interrupting his fantasy.
A thick stack of contracts landed right in his hands, bearing a few large, neat characters across the top.
Unable to believe his eyes, Lian Que read out loud word by word, “Marriage Agreement?”
“So surprised? I was starting to genuinely think you had another man outside.” Chen Xingjian leisurely sat down on the edge of Lian Que’s bed, casually playing with the corner of the bedsheet.
Lian Que shook his head and hurriedly pledged his loyalty. “How could that be, sir? You are so handsome, dashing, and debonair the moment I caught a single glance of you, my eyes could never look at another man again!”
The corners of Chen Xingjian’s lips curved upward as he scolded with a smile, “Stop talking nonsense.”
Lian Que had originally thought the marriage matter was merely a wishful thinking on the part of the Lian family, and that Chen Xingjian had simply taken him in as an object on a whim to pacify Lian Qingfu. Who could have imagined that he had actually drafted a formal marriage agreement?
For a moment, Lian Que still found it hard to believe, terrified that he was living in a dream.
“Not satisfied with the terms?” Chen Xingjian looked up, seeing Lian Que standing blankly in place and missing his previous liveliness. “Specific terms can be renegotiated.”
It was just that he had top-tier lawyers from all across the country by his side, so Lian Que wouldn’t be able to gain much advantage against him anyway.
Lian Que shook his head, picked up a pen from the table, flipped straight to the very last page of the contract, and signed his own full name.
He had nothing to his name anyway; at most, he only had this physical appearance.
By signing the marriage agreement, Chen Xingjian was definitely the one getting the short end of the stick.
“No, sir. I just thought… you wouldn’t marry someone like me so formally…”
Chen Xingjian’s gaze darkened. They were ordinary words through and through, but he seemed to hear a somewhat pitiful undertone in Lian Que’s voice.
He rubbed his fingertips together, finally suppressing the slow, lingering itch rising from the bottom of his heart.
Signing an agreement was merely a standard commercial measure; once the contract was generated, it would carry legal validity and give him greater peace of mind. Why, coming from Lian Que’s mouth, did it sound like some sort of supreme favor?
Chen Xingjian stood up from the bed, stepped out the door first, and left behind only a single sentence:
“Get cleaned up and come downstairs to eat.”
Lian Que didn’t dawdle, shuffling straight downstairs in his slippers.
Aunt Wang had already cleared the dining table. There were two soups and four dishes laid out quite a lavish spread for just two people.
When Lian Que took a closer look at the dining table, a wave of darkness swept before his eyes: the rich large bone soup he had casually packed from a small roadside workshop was sitting dead center on the table in all its solemn glory.
He had packed a portion of bone soup, but he had never imagined that this bone soup would one day be placed so upright and center on the dining table.
It felt just like when you pack home carved radish flowers purely for show the carved radish flowers don’t need to taste good, they just need to look pretty, and as long as Chen Xingjian acknowledges your thoughtfulness, that’s enough. But now, those carved radish flowers were sitting right in the absolute center of the dinner table. It was game over.
Seeing Lian Que and Chen Xingjian come down, Aunt Wang cheerfully arranged the tableware neatly and greeted them to take their seats.
Even at this point, Lian Que clung to a tiny shred of wishful thinking: maybe Chen Xingjian would come back tonight feeling weary and wouldn’t care much for drinking bone soup.
Or perhaps, placed right in such an obvious spot, the bone soup would paradoxically blend into the background, and Chen Xingjian would drink the other bowl of soup on the table, decide it tasted even better, and thus toss that bone soup to the back of his mind.
Unfortunately, the dead center truly was the most prominent spot. The moment Chen Xingjian sat down, he laid eyes on the bone soup placed right in the middle.
“Aunt Wang, why haven’t I seen this dish before?”
Aunt Wang rubbed her hands together with a cheerful chuckle, “Young master has a good eye! This bone soup was painstakingly simmered all afternoon by Mr. Lian himself. It smells so rich.”
It was over. The carved radish flowers were now even being promoted in value.
Lian Que argued with careful caution, “Uh, it didn’t simmer for quite that long…”
“Mr. Lian, don’t be modest! The kitchen auntie has been cooking for half a lifetime; just one sniff of that aroma tells her that a soup this rich cannot possibly be whipped up without at least an hour or two. Mr. Lian is really so good to the young master.”
Looking at the bowl of bone soup in the center, Chen Xingjian shifted his gaze to Lian Que’s face, which still carried a hint of a guilty conscience. “Is that so? Then I really must have a proper taste.”
Lian Que lowered his head and buried himself in his food, remaining as silent as a chicken, not daring to pipe up with a single random word.
As he ate, his eyes refused to stay still, darting sideways in a sneak attack to peek at Chen Xingjian. He didn’t look away in a fluster until he was caught red-handed, his ears ringing with the crisp clatter of spoons hitting porcelain bowls.
After finishing one bowl of soup, Chen Xingjian went for a second.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the young master like soup this much.”
Aunt Wang was back at it, dropping retro romance-novel clichés awkward enough to curl toes.
The entire meal felt like sitting on pins and needles for Lian Que. He couldn’t even taste the flavor of the food; his hands and feet operated purely on mechanical autopilot.
He honestly had no confidence that the small workshop’s broth could withstand Chen Xingjian’s scrutiny.
Finally, Chen Xingjian drained both bowls of soup completely, showing no further intention of asking for seconds, which finally allowed Lian Que to breathe a slight sigh of relief.
“The soup is good.” Chen Xingjian picked up a tissue and wiped the corners of his lips.
Lian Que was an expert at rolling with the punches. Completely dropping any mention of the earlier awkwardness and helplessness, he put on a pitiful tone, “Of course! I simmered it for so long that my arms got sore. But it doesn’t matter, as long as you like it.”
Chen Xingjian nodded, and his fingers casually pinched Lian Que’s cheek. “Have a portion delivered to the lobby of the Chen Group headquarters every afternoon.”
Every day? Delivering soup? To the lobby?
Would he be harassed by malicious secretaries, looked down upon by nepotism-hire managers, or blocked at the front desk by security and refused entry?
Chen Xingjian’s fingertips massaged the corners of Lian Que’s stiff mouth. “You’re doing this for me. Cheer up.”
Lian Que lowered his eyelids, looking thoroughly unwilling. “Understood, President Chen.”
Chen Xingjian swept his gaze over the drooping, listless Lian Que, casually slid the decorative ring off his finger, and began twirling it in his palm, speaking with pointed intent: “If you’re unwilling, that’s fine too. I just wonder whose hands this ring of mine will end up cheapening.”