Chapter 20
Meng Xueyuan faced the situation as if confronting a great enemy. Had he messed Lu Xiao up by touching him? Was Lu Xiao here to hold him accountable?
Putting aside the fact that he was willing to help—if a man couldn’t respond on his own, that was a serious matter.
Meng Xueyuan hurriedly reflected on whether his queen-bee bloodline had affected Lu Xiao’s normal release. It hadn’t, right? The dinner dishes were nourishing, but they were still normal food.
His fingers clenched the thin blanket, panic rising in his heart.
Seeing his wife’s expression go awry, Lu Xiao wanted to retreat, but he’d already said the words. In a lifetime, one had to be brave at least once—the lesson of calling them “Dad and Mom” was a precedent.
If this worked, wouldn’t it be every day then…
He held Meng Xueyuan’s hand. “Help me.”
Meng Xueyuan relaxed his grip and let Lu Xiao take his hand.
After a while, Meng Xueyuan analyzed the cause and suggested, “How about I go with you to see a psychologist?”
He added with a sense of responsibility, “Don’t be afraid. Use my name to register.”
Lu Xiao: “…No.” It had just gotten a taste and wanted more.
Meng Xueyuan suddenly had an idea. “If you’re really worried, I also have a forensic pathologist friend—”
Lu Xiao: “Is it necessary to see a forensic pathologist?”
Meng Xueyuan: “He knows top psychologists in the field.”
Lu Xiao: “In the field? Criminal psychology? I haven’t committed a crime.”
Meng Xueyuan: “….”
Lu Xiao could only abandon the idea of lifelong accountability and said, “I’m just inexperienced and more dependent on you. Help me a few more times, and gradually it’ll become natural.”
Meng Xueyuan finally breathed a sigh of relief and said conscientiously, “I’ll provide as much help as I can.”
Lu Xiao: “Mm.”
Meng Xueyuan hesitated to speak, wavered for half an hour, and finally said, “This time I’ll wash my hands myself.”
As soon as the words fell, two pure-white tissues covered his palm and gently wiped everything clean.
“……”
Lu Xiao said, “Wipe first, then go to the bathroom—what if Mom and Dad see?” Then he would definitely be kicked out in the middle of the night.
“Come on, let’s go wash our hands.”
Meng Xueyuan cast Lu Xiao a long look, thinking for the first time that not having an en-suite bathroom was inconvenient.
He lay back on the bed, fingers splayed. “I’m not washing.”
Their bees naturally believed in getting paid for work and more work for more pay.
And it wasn’t always like this anyway.
“Then you rest,” Lu Xiao said. He opened the door and went out, twisted a wet towel in the bathroom. As he turned to head back, he suddenly noticed the layout of the house—three bedrooms and two living rooms. At this moment, light seeped from under the doors, which meant Father Meng and Mother Meng each had their own room.
Even when guests came, they were arranged to share a room with their son rather than vacating one. Was that because they trusted him too much, or… were the couple’s relations not good?
Lu Xiao wrung the towel hard. He had grown up in a happy family. When he’d told Yao Quan that “apparently fifty is a peak age for sleeping in separate rooms,” it really was just something he’d heard. His two dads were destined to share the same bed in life and death; if one of them suddenly went to sleep in the study, the three brothers would tacitly avoid going home, steering clear of the conflict zone.
Lu Xiao couldn’t imagine having a wife and yet sleeping in separate rooms.
But during the day everything had looked fine. Could it have been an act? Meng Xueyuan was so sensitive—had he suffered over this many times?
Lu Xiao’s gaze darkened. Feeling for his wife, he carefully wiped his fingers dry one by one. After hesitating, he still asked, “Do your parents sleep in separate rooms?”
He needed to fully understand his wife’s family situation to avoid stepping on landmines and offending her parents.
Hearing this, Meng Xueyuan rolled over. “Yeah.”
He pondered for a moment and explained, “Because their nighttime hobbies are different. My mom likes knitting while watching idol dramas; my dad likes listening to music while doing woodworking—he makes beehives himself. If they’re together, they distract each other.”
No family melodrama as imagined. Lu Xiao praised sincerely, “Mom and Dad are so hardworking. No wonder I saw so many planks in the yard—the beehives are all handmade.”
If they weren’t in such a rush to return to filming, he would definitely help Father Meng make a hundred beehives to show his sincerity.
In the future, he would make sure to share the same hobbies as Meng Xueyuan—then they wouldn’t sleep in separate rooms. No—he had no hobbies. His only hobby was Meng Xueyuan.
Meng Xueyuan curled his lips into a smile. “Of course.” Only the most diligent bees could give birth to a queen.
Lu Xiao suspected nothing.
Meng Xueyuan quietly shifted his gaze away, feeling just a tiny bit guilty.
Actually, his parents sleeping in separate rooms was indeed partly because of differing hobbies. There was also a key factor—
Worker bees were all sexually indifferent.
In a bee colony, both the queen and the workers developed from fertilized eggs. Worker bees ate royal jelly for only three days as larvae, so their reproductive systems were incomplete.
Translated to human worker bees, their reproductive systems would be fully formed, but mentally they still retained some traits—such as sexual indifference, focused solely on working.
So with several hundred clan members, he had to build several hundred houses. Everyone had their own place; whether together or apart, they were free to go about their own lives.
Sexual indifference didn’t mean poor relationships, nor did it mean they couldn’t like someone.
In the entire clan, only Meng Xueyuan possessed primal desire.
The younger worker bees often expressed concern about his nuptial flight, but Meng Xueyuan knew they were all sexually indifferent—purely concerned with work, with no other implications.
Because of that, Meng Xueyuan wasn’t particularly shy.
Living so long in a sexually indifferent environment, Meng Xueyuan subconsciously assumed everyone was the same. He never overthought or speculated about others’ motives, viewing everything from a worker’s perspective—including Lu Xiao.
Only recently did he realize that maybe… that wasn’t the case???
Lu Xiao wasn’t a worker bee. He had desires.
o(???)o
Early the next morning, Meng Xueyuan heard a burst of noisy conversation outside. Rubbing his eyes, he got up and opened the door, just in time to see his parents opening the door to see someone off.
“Who was it?”
Mother Meng said, “The lychee orchard owner. Yesterday he was too scared to show his face; this morning he suddenly came by to apologize, crying his eyes out, saying that last year his trees had pests so there was no harvest, and this year when he saw bugs he panicked and lost his head.”
Mother Meng wouldn’t listen at first based on that alone. It was only after the man thoroughly reflected on the importance of bees to species survival and swore that he’d minimize pesticide use in the future—relying on physical weed removal instead—that she was willing to grudgingly hear him out.
Father Meng said, “We’re all farmers; it’s not easy. But I won’t work with him again.”
Meng Xueyuan saw several gift boxes placed by the door and guessed they were for compensation.
The doorbell rang again. Father Meng opened the door to find two men in suits standing outside, carrying items in their hands and piling them at their feet—milk, bird’s nest, dried goods, fine liquor, gold… box after box.
Father Meng was taken aback. “Wow, that’s one sincere apology.”
A faint stir passed through Meng Xueyuan’s eyes. This scale of generosity looked rather…
At some point, Lu Xiao appeared, impeccably dressed. “Dad, Mom, good morning. This is just a small token from your son.”
Mother Meng and Father Meng exchanged looks.
Meng Xueyuan said, “It’s Lu Xiao’s gesture—just accept it.”
“All right, Mom thanks you, Xiao Lu.” Mother Meng glanced at her son. “You really shouldn’t have spent so much. I won’t be able to finish all this—another day I’ll have your dad take it back to the village and share it with the neighbors.”
Father Meng said, “Xiao Lu, next time don’t buy anything. You and Yuan-Yuan just… just live your lives well. That’s more important than anything.”
Lu Xiao felt there was something behind those words and looked to Meng Xueyuan for help.
Meng Xueyuan lowered his head and stared at his toes.
Lu Xiao said, “I happen to be tied up with filming lately. When we both have time, we’ll go back to the village together and visit the neighbors.”
Mother Meng said, “You two take care of yourselves. Don’t overwork—supplement your nutrition, eat well. All right, have breakfast and then hurry to the airport, or you’ll be rushing again.”
…
At ten in the morning, Meng Xueyuan returned to Nan Cheng.
Lu Xiao drove him back to the set first. “You go back and film. I have some errands to run—I’ll be back this afternoon.”
Meng Xueyuan said, “Okay.”
At the entrance to the set, Lu Xiao got out, walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, hesitated, then couldn’t help asking, “When we were leaving, Mom and Dad’s looks at me seemed kind of odd. Did I do something wrong?”
He slapped his thigh. “Crap—should I have given two red envelopes?”
Ah… you really don’t want to know the reason. Meng Xueyuan said with certainty, “You saw it wrong. My parents really like you.”
Lu Xiao said, “Really?”
“Really.”
Lu Xiao was still doubtful when, for once, the director was actually jogging. Spotting Lu Xiao, he said, “Hey, Lu Xiao, your friend brought you a box of food last night. You weren’t here. He said it had to be eaten within six hours, so I ate it for you. Man, this stuff—”
Lu Xiao cut him off. “If you’ve eaten it, don’t bring it up.”
His wife was right here—what if he thought his kidneys were weak?
Director: “All right. You’re both back—let’s get ready to shoot.”
Lu Xiao said, “I took leave. I’ll come this afternoon.”
The director was unusually agreeable. “Okay, okay, you go take care of things. We’ll film Teacher Meng first.”
Meng Xueyuan was a little bothered. “Your friend even brought you food?”
The director gave a knowing smile—those who know, know.
Lu Xiao: “……”
Meng Xueyuan: “?”
Lu Xiao: “He’s not a good person. He was trying to poison me.”
Director: “……”
—
Lu Group Building, conference room.
On the wall hung an enormous ink-wash landscape of layered peaks. On closer inspection, the seal belonged to a late master of traditional Chinese painting. Few people knew this was the largest landscape he had painted in his lifetime. For it, he had conducted on-site studies at the age of seventy, then secluded himself for months upon returning home. His brushwork was undiminished, and he once said that upon completing this piece, his artistic career was complete.
“Lu Xiao isn’t here yet?” Lu Lou glanced at his watch. It was 10:40—ten minutes past the agreed 10:30.
“Wait a bit longer,” Lu Yushu said.
The meeting room’s equipment manager saw the two presidents’ expressions darkening by the minute and thought to himself: with Lu Fengge absent, the third young master really isn’t even pretending anymore. The two presidents handled hundreds of millions in transactions every minute, yet here they were wasting time waiting for him alone.
If it were him, he’d have stopped waiting long ago. Yet the two presidents were remarkably patient with their spendthrift younger brother, not even calling to rush him. If it were a business partner—even a big name—Lu Yushu would have walked out after one minute of tardiness.
Wait? That wasn’t a concept the Lu family subscribed to.
And yet Lu Lou and Lu Yushu were exceptionally patient.
At 10:45, Lu Xiao finally appeared and explained, “Something came up at my wife’s place. I went back with him for a bit.”
Something came up—probably something important.
Lu Lou and Lu Yushu exchanged a tacit look and said nothing. Experience had taught them not to provoke someone with love on the brain—otherwise, Dad would drag them over to give the love-struck one a lecture.
It would’ve been fine if the love-struck one hadn’t shown up, but he did. Looks like this time it was serious again.
Then again, every circle Lu Xiao entered, he treated like a game—but he always went all in.
Lu Xiao said, “Start directly from the part scheduled fifteen minutes later.”
Arrogant tone—yet he even dared to listen to professional matters selectively, cutting off the beginning and the end.
Lu Lou usually mocked him, but when it came to business he was strictly professional. Following their father’s orders, he gave Lu Xiao a thorough analysis of the Lu Group’s core—content only a handful of people were qualified to hear.
Lu Yushu, who handled legal affairs, was only there to supplement. Listening to his elder brother speak, he couldn’t help laughing. As he taught, he was also subtly brainwashing his younger brother: at present, the group really didn’t have the time to swallow up Sea Star Entertainment. As the major shareholder, their current stake was already sufficient to influence decision-making.
Was he afraid that once Lu Xiao took power, he’d recklessly initiate an acquisition of Sea Star Entertainment?
Lu Xiao frowned. “Don’t bring in irrelevant topics.”
Lu Lou: “…” Fine, fine. Now Sea Star Entertainment was “irrelevant.” Who was it again that had flown into a rage for a beauty?
Lu Yushu couldn’t suppress a laugh and leisurely crossed his legs.
Lu Xiao flipped open the Middle East project proposal and asked his second brother several legal questions related to the relevant countries.
The questions were deep and highly professional—clearly he’d put in real work. Previously, this project had always been in Lu Fengge’s hands; even Lu Lou, who hadn’t followed it closely, wouldn’t have been able to ask questions like these.
Lu Yushu put his leg down, jotted a few lines in his notebook, then checked some information on his computer before offering his advice.
“You’re really going to the Middle East?” Lu Lou asked a rather stupid question. There was nowhere in this world Lu Xiao couldn’t stay—except prison, where he wouldn’t be able to see his wife.
Lu Xiao nodded. “Yeah.” Since he’d decided to enter the circle of presidents, he had to do it properly. Adults making immature decisions would only drag Meng Xueyuan down with them and get them both mocked as childish. He wanted Meng Xueyuan to be proud of him.
The meeting atmosphere gradually relaxed. As the saying goes, when brothers are united, they can cut through metal. When three brothers disagreed, they could even hold a vote—better than just two people.
Later, Lu Lou and Lu Yushu both threw themselves fully into it, not daring to let their guard down for even a moment, lest their younger brother turn the tables on them.
Their Lu family… was naturally prone to producing SSRs. If word got out, who knew how many old geezers would be green with envy.
“Oh, right, Second Brother,” Lu Xiao added. “Help handle a lawsuit. Bees raised by Xueyuan’s family were poisoned to death by a fruit farmer spraying pesticides. They had a contract prohibiting pesticide use—this case is a guaranteed win. It’ll boost your professional win rate.”
Lu Yushu: “…” He’d never handled such a small case before.
The meeting lasted until 12:30 p.m., after which the three of them went together to the executive cafeteria for lunch.
At mealtime, there was no need to sit together. The elder brothers valued elegance; the younger brother valued being full.
Lu Lou carried his tray and selected seafood, spotting his secretary standing by the dessert rack, eyes flicking briefly to his collar.
He’d never bought clothes for the secretary. On the contrary, all his clothes were bought by the secretary. Lu Lou didn’t care about prices or brands—whatever the secretary picked was always just right. He wasn’t sensitive to clothing.
But since Lu Xiao had hinted so many times, openly and covertly, about the secretary’s clothes, whether for public or private reasons, he had to at least ask—risk prevention.
Lu Lou walked over and, copying the secretary, took a piece of mousse. “Nice clothes.”
The secretary replied with a sexually indifferent expression, “Yeah. Second-hand from a celebrity.”
Lu Lou nodded. So that was it—second-hand really wasn’t worth much.
