Chapter 43
Lu Lou and Lu Yushu had defended their secretary in front of Lu Xiao more than once. Now, those words all came flying back like boomerangs.
The “perfect partnership” between a CEO and his secretary—truth be told, the secretary himself didn’t care about it at all.
An elite secretary only wanted to cook and drive for his younger brother’s wife, doing simple labor.
Taking a month off had even been because he’d accurately calculated Lu Xiao’s return date.
When he came back to work yesterday, Lu Lou and Lu Yushu thought the recent awkwardness had passed. Turns out there was more to it—every time Third Young Master Lu went on a business trip, the two of them would have no secretary, because the secretary would run off to take care of Lu Xiao’s wife.
Whose secretary was this exactly? Why did he look more like Third Young Master Lu’s?
It was so ridiculous it made them laugh in anger.
Lu Lou pressed his forehead, utterly disheveled in the wind. Bai He’s reason for taking leave had been “to complete a major life event.” Lu Lou had clenched his teeth and let it go—only to find out the guy had chased after his brother’s wife?
Absolutely absurd.
Meng Xueyuan and Lu Xiao were legally married, had met each other’s parents, and Meng Xueyuan was Chairman Lu Fengge’s first “daughter-in-law.” Bai He clearly had no intention of returning to work at the Lu Group. What kind of secretary takes leave to chase after the chairman’s daughter-in-law?
When his younger brother demanded an explanation, Lu Lou, for the first time, felt he couldn’t give one.
Outwardly calm, Lu Lou maintained tactical silence.
Lu Xiao said, “If you can’t manage your secretary, I’ll manage him for you.”
Send them all away! All of them to the Middle East!
After a long pause, Lu Yushu recovered his expression and broke into a smile. “No need to trouble yourself.”
He changed the subject. “Lin Xilan is taking maternity-nanny courses—is it because your wife is pregnant?”
Lu Xiao’s expression didn’t change. Proudly, he said, “Yes. I’m going to be a dad.”
Big Brother Lu froze. “Congra—”
Lu Xiao: “Though it’s a false pregnancy.”
Big Brother Lu: “—tulations.”
Big Brother Lu felt that his third brother had a point. When your wife was pregnant and people were still thinking of chasing him right to the house, he, as the elder brother, had indeed borne an inescapable responsibility by blindly approving the secretary’s leave.
Lu Yushu said, “Second Uncle doesn’t have any meeting gift. I’ll take the secretary abroad on a business trip.”
Lu Xiao looked at Lu Lou.
Lu Lou said, “Fine. I’ll go on a business trip too.”
Lu Xiao knew the trips wouldn’t last long, but if he could drive away his love rival for even one day, that was one more day. He needed to seize the time to repair things with his wife.
…
In the blazing heat of August, during a break on set, Meng Xueyuan sat under a fan and scrolled through his phone, only to see Chu Hao trending.
It was a classic piece of rich-family melodrama. Marketing accounts didn’t dare name names, using instead “a certain C-surname wealthy family’s marriage collapse.”
The blogger gave a rough overview, and in the comments many “insiders” popped up, describing things vividly. They even posted photos of Chu Hao, and there was even a screenshot of a WeChat chat.
The chat showed Chu Hao discussing divorce matters with his ex-wife, the tone cold and brief: “At the Civil Affairs Bureau.” “Arrived.”
The comments were full of emojis of people slicing watermelons and sitting in rows to watch.
It made Meng Xueyuan want to eat watermelon too.
Coincidentally, Lu Xiao called him, saying he was on his way to the set.
Meng Xueyuan asked him to buy a watermelon and asked, “Is it true that Chu Hao got cheated on, like what’s being exposed online?”
Lu Xiao was parked by the roadside picking a watermelon. “True. Even more real than the one in my hand.”
Meng Xueyuan felt a twinge of sympathy. Though his own marriage to Lu Xiao had been rather rushed, he still regarded marriage as sacred. Chu Hao’s fast-in, fast-out approach didn’t sit well.
He sighed. “You really shouldn’t rush into marriage.”
Lu Xiao: “……”
Once men and women were involved, public opinion inevitably turned into a shouting match. Some said Chu Hao was innocent; others sympathized with the woman as the weaker party, praising her as a symbol of resisting patriarchy; still others scolded her for being love-brained and said she should be sent off to dig wild vegetables.
Meng Xueyuan had Chu Hao on WeChat and asked him in shock how the chat logs had leaked. It was terrifying.
Chu Hao replied bleakly, “Fake.”
“The entertainment industry’s been too quiet lately. Paparazzi are focusing on rich-family drama now. How did my tiny divorce thing end up on the trending list?”
Although he’d been the one to spread it, he’d only wanted his ex-wife to socially die in Moments. He hadn’t wanted both of them to trend together and be used as tools in a fight. Public opinion really was a double-edged sword. He regretted it a bit—Lu Xiao really was wiser.
“The paparazzi are so idle. They even want to photograph me. I don’t dare go out without a mask these days. Being a celebrity is really not easy.”
“My god, I just go to a car show and passersby take photos of me. You guys in the entertainment industry, please drop some huge scandals and bury me.”
Meng Xueyuan awkwardly comforted him, “There are tons of cheating scandals in the entertainment industry. One will pop up soon.”
Chu Hao: “……” He felt fear on his brother’s behalf.
No sooner had he said that than the standalone keyword “Lu Xiao” shot into the sky, instantly suppressing the rich-family gossip.
Chu Hao’s pupils shook violently. Ahhh—this wasn’t him! And it wasn’t his crow mouth either!
He didn’t even dare click in, afraid the full trending tag would be #LuXiaoCuckold. Only he knew about that matter; even Meng Xueyuan himself didn’t know. If it went public, he’d be dead.
Hanging by a thread, Chu Hao clicked in and saw #Lu Xiao, Third Young Master of a Wealthy Family. He immediately felt like he’d survived a disaster.
Meng Xueyuan exited the chat with Chu Hao, and in the blink of an eye saw news about Lu Xiao.
Netizens traced Chu Hao’s itinerary and found that he was in the Middle East… then quickly dug up a news photo. Chu Hao had attended the World Future Energy Summit in the Middle East the day before yesterday, and nearby, shaking hands and chatting with a Middle Eastern prince, was none other than Lu Xiao—who had retired from the entertainment industry!
Lu Xiao’s first public appearance since retiring, and at such a grand occasion! Stunningly handsome! Standing beside Arabs with intense features, deep-set eyes, and high noses, his looks were not overshadowed at all. Their auras stood shoulder to shoulder—steady, wise, and imposing.
Looks fans and career fans were both fully satisfied.
Then someone else revealed that Lu Xiao was Lu Fengge’s third son, had gone abroad to “gild” himself, and had now become a vice president of the Lu Group. The internal appointment had already been issued.
[These days, people in the entertainment industry are desperate to plaster their rich second-gen status on their foreheads. Lu Xiao—you’re really low-key.]
[After finding out my bro is Alen, I hereby name him the King of Low Profile.]
[Ahhh if my bro hadn’t retired, with Alen fans all over the world and proper planning, he’d be the next global superstar! Career fans crying in the bathroom.]
[Career fans don’t panic. Look at the occasions your bro appears at—that’s another kind of global superstar.]
[Thank you, I’m healed.]
[So who was it before that bought trending topics mocking Meng Xueyuan for marrying badly?]
[I heard the eldest and second sons of the Lu family won’t marry. Our Yuan-yuan is actually the eldest daughter-in-law of a wealthy family!]
[Damn it, all the beauties get snatched up by the rich.]
[Curious—Lu Xiao switching to business halfway through life, won’t that really trigger internal family strife?]
[Well… rumor has it the eldest and second brothers are indeed quite unhappy lately. When the three of them appear together, it feels like a storm of brotherly conflict brewing.]
[I searched the Lu family—who is Lu Fengge’s wife? The genes must be amazing.]
[I now reasonably suspect Lu Xiao retired because his wife was being mocked for marrying badly.]
[Mock love-brain all you want, but don’t mock his wife.]
[I won’t mock—just let me see more of my bro’s daily life pics, Meng Xueyuan.]
Meng Xueyuan saved the image and thought to himself that netizens’ imaginations were truly wild. Lu Xiao’s move into business couldn’t possibly have been triggered by something so simple. He was a man with plans, with his own rhythm.
He pressed his lips together, lips like they held a red cherry, ink-wash brows and eyes like clear wind and bright moon, and happily began deleting WeChat chat records.
Chats with the worker bees—he deleted them whenever he thought of it.
If his phone were lost, or hacked, these strange chat records would invite trouble.
As a celebrity, Meng Xueyuan needed to protect his privacy. More importantly, he had an obligation to keep the worker bees’ secrets. 001, 002, 003… they were all top talents in their industries, young and promising, independent and impressive in their colleagues’ eyes. If it were discovered that they privately acted like underlings, their images would collapse.
Because of the bee clan’s social nature, exposing one meant exposing many. Mutual secrecy was the clan’s responsibility. Meng Xueyuan couldn’t casually tell Lu Xiao that he was the queen bee—otherwise, other worker bees would quickly be identified. Human worker bees were independent individuals.
As the spiritual power of mystical beings faded, eventually this secret would vanish into time. The previous clan leader had said that a hundred years ago, the bee swarm had made an agreement with other mystical clans: if one day the bloodline attributes of mystical beings completely disappeared, there was no need to inform the next generation. A plain, quiet transition was the safest.
Meng Xueyuan thought that if he were a lone dragonfly fighting solo, he would have told Lu Xiao long ago.
He skillfully long-pressed the WeChat chat window and chose “Delete chat history” from the pop-up options.
Lu Xiao stood behind him, watching him delete chats one by one, his eyes dark and unreadable.
He had seen it—this morning, Meng Xueyuan had tipped off 001, telling him to quietly leave.
He had also seen that the largest number had reached 0177.
What was there to be angry about? Wasn’t it just his wife replying with cute bee-dance emoji packs?
Wasn’t it just over a hundred mahjong buddies? They were all numbers! Unlike his own contact entry, which had a proper name!
Damn it—Lu Xiao’s head buzzed. How did mahjong buddies end up as densely packed as bees?
He took a deep breath. Calm down. Calm down. If he stopped treating Meng Xueyuan as his possession and instead as a male idol he hadn’t yet won over, everything suddenly made sense.
This wasn’t the time to be jealous—it was time to throw himself into heated male competition! A highly threatening rival had appeared. He absolutely couldn’t stall. Whether it was a green hat or not was no longer the key issue!
Only the most outstanding male could win the beauty.
“Wife, want some watermelon?”
Meng Xueyuan turned his head. Seeing Lu Xiao, his clear black-and-white eyes lit up. “I do.”
The watermelon Lu Xiao bought was round with a thin rind. He used a small knife to score a circle along the middle, and the watermelon split neatly in half.
He didn’t cut it further. Instead, he took a silver spoon, scooped a bite from the very center, and fed it to Meng Xueyuan.
A good man—even if he’s wearing a watermelon-rind hat on his head—must still feed his wife the sweetest bite from the very center.
Meng Xueyuan opened his mouth, bit into the watermelon, and said indistinctly, “The watermelon you bought is so sweet.”
Lu Xiao said, “Then from now on, only eat the ones I buy.”
Meng Xueyuan picked up the other half and scooped out the center for Lu Xiao.
You take a bite, I take a bite. The watermelon was juicy; spoons went back and forth, and inevitably a few drops of juice splashed onto them.
Meng Xueyuan’s and Lu Xiao’s white shirts were both stained, like two three-year-old kids.
The watermelon was a small variety. Without realizing it, Meng Xueyuan finished half of it, leaving only a rind. He touched his lower abdomen in surprise—he was stuffed.
“I ate so much and didn’t even throw up,” he said happily. “Lu Xiao, it feels like I get a lot better as soon as you’re back.”
Lu Xiao raised his brows. Of course—his rightful partner’s aura was right here.
Meng Xueyuan said, “I think my false pregnancy reaction is going to disappear soon. When I have time, I’ll go get a blood test.”
Once his hormone levels normalized, he could pay back his debt. o(???)o
He didn’t want to owe anything—especially since Lu Xiao charged compound interest.
Lu Xiao reached out and touched his wife’s chin, which had grown thinner from the torment of the false pregnancy. “You’ve worked hard.”
Meng Xueyuan said, “With you here, it’s not hard.”
Lu Xiao pressed his hand against Meng Xueyuan’s lower abdomen again. “My wife being able to have a false pregnancy is really amazing.”
Meng Xueyuan lowered his gaze. A little glow from the queen bee bloodline. Did Lu Xiao really think he was amazing?
Lu Xiao hugged him proudly. “Worthy of being my wife.”
Lu Xiao knew that the false pregnancy caused Meng Xueyuan suffering, yet he couldn’t help imagining the scene of fucking his wife into another false pregnancy.
Tsk—broad daylight. Can’t think about that.
Meng Xueyuan said, “I just need to reshoot one scene, then we can go eat.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know you’d come back. I didn’t prepare a Valentine’s gift.”
Lu Xiao said, “It’s fine. You can give me a date.”
“That’s obviously you giving it to me.”
Meng Xueyuan suddenly remembered the rumors online about the Lu brothers’ power struggle reaching a fever pitch. Inspiration struck. “I can give you some connections.”
Lu Xiao: “……”
“My two mahjong buddies are your brothers’ secretaries—they’ve been rehired.” Meng Xueyuan lifted his chin. “If you want to be the big boss, I can ask them to defect to you.”
Lu Xiao: “……”
Outwardly saying “my wife is so good,” inwardly Lu Xiao wanted to stab his love rivals. How close did you have to be to casually suggest having secretaries betray the chairman of a major conglomerate?
Meng Xueyuan’s tone and demeanor were so matter-of-fact. Lu Xiao bit down on a lemon fermenting in his mouth, bitterness filling his heart. Even when his wife talked to him about assets, she was still so polite.
He should’ve taken a dose of Chinese medicine at noon before coming.
“Teacher Meng,” a crew member knocked. “It’s time for your scene.”
“Okay.” Meng Xueyuan wiped his mouth, grabbed the hem of his shirt, and pulled it off. Bare-chested, he bent down to pick up his costume and put it on.
Lu Xiao stared silently. Once Meng Xueyuan left, his sinful right hand reached for—
His wife’s phone.
He knew the password.
Meng Xueyuan had deleted the chat windows. If he blocked all of Meng Xueyuan’s mahjong buddies right now, Meng Xueyuan wouldn’t notice in the short term.
His finger hovered hesitantly over the friends list.
Dare… don’t dare… dare… don’t dare… wife finds out… wife gets angry… wife explodes…
“Lu Xiao.” Meng Xueyuan opened the door. “Do you want to watch me act?”
The reshoot was a scene of him playing the piano in an attic. He’d specifically learned for a while for it.
Meng Xueyuan’s gaze dropped to Lu Xiao’s hand—his own phone, open to WeChat. He looked puzzled.
Lu Xiao didn’t dare block anyone and instead struck first. “Why haven’t you changed my contact name to ‘husband’ yet?”
Meng Xueyuan’s face heated up. “Then you change it.”
An hour later, after Meng Xueyuan finished playing the piano and acting out a melancholic youth, he went to change back into his regular clothes.
The previous ones had been stained with watermelon juice, but he had spares.
He went to the lounge to get his clothes, and out of the corner of his eye suddenly saw a familiar auntie entering—someone who had cooked for him before.
Weren’t they supposed to go on a cruise date? Why was the auntie still delivering food?
Meng Xueyuan’s hand paused on the curtain. He pressed against the window and looked outside.
The auntie was carrying a thermal container. She took out something that looked like a milk-tea cup and handed it to Lu Xiao. The cup was slightly translucent; inside was a dark, murky liquid.
What was that?
Bayberry juice? Sour plum drink?
Meng Xueyuan saw Lu Xiao take it, bring it to his nose, sniff, and frown.
Bitter?
It was Chinese medicine!
Why was Lu Xiao drinking medicine?
Meng Xueyuan ran over and stopped in front of him. “Wait.”
“What’s this medicine for?”
Lu Xiao just wanted to drink it quietly and didn’t want his wife to notice. “It’s for adjusting jet lag.”
Meng Xueyuan didn’t believe him. Lu Xiao didn’t need to adjust jet lag—besides, it was only a five-hour difference. Not to mention, it was nothing compared to them flipping day and night in bed.
Lu Xiao said, “I’ve been a bit overheated lately.”
Meng Xueyuan looked at him sternly. “Tell me the truth. Is it to suppress libido?”
Because he couldn’t have sex during the false pregnancy?
“You can’t drink this. I’m better now. We’re going to get a blood test right now.”
