TLSOTMTKOGAYWHTDI Chapter 101
by Volare## Chapter 100: Yu Fengran’s Doubts
The projector in the living room cast a dim blue light. Yu Fengran curled up in a corner of the sofa, his fingers unconsciously stroking the remote control.
Lin Jianhe’s head rested on his lap, his hair tickling Yu Fengran’s skin.
Just as the movie reached its climax, the moment the villain removed his mask, Lin Jianhe’s phone suddenly vibrated.
“I’ll take this call.”
Lin Jianhe propped himself up and lightly pecked Yu Fengran’s lips.
Yu Fengran nodded, his gaze following Lin Jianhe’s retreating figure as he entered the bedroom.
The frosted glass door revealed a blurry silhouette. Lin Jianhe had a habit of twirling the ends of the hair at the nape of his neck with his left hand when he was on the phone – a nervous tic.
The explosion in the movie made the coffee table tremble slightly.
Yu Fengran lowered the volume, hearing snippets of conversation from the bedroom.
“…Are you sure it’s him?”
“…Don’t alert the enemy…”
“…It has to be next week…”
The faucet was suddenly turned on, the rushing water drowning out the rest.
Yu Fengran stared at the half-finished glass of whiskey on the coffee table, the ice ball having melted into a sharp cone.
They had been living together for three months, and Lin Jianhe rarely avoided him when taking calls, not even work calls.
The bedroom door opened.
Lin Jianhe walked back in, his expression as normal. Bending down, the collar of his shirt revealed a glimpse of his collarbone, still bearing the red mark Yu Fengran had left there last night.
“Why did you pause it?” He smiled, reaching for the remote.
“Who was on the phone?”
“A colleague from the auditing firm.”
Lin Jianhe casually straddled his lap, his nose brushing against his earlobe. “There’s a problem with the data from a project.”
He gently sucked on Yu Fengran’s Adam’s apple, his fingers already slipping under the hem of his pajamas.
Yu Fengran smiled without speaking. Lin Jianhe was lying!
The light from the projector cast mottled shadows on Lin Jianhe’s glasses.
He suddenly chuckled and took off his glasses, tossing them onto the sofa. “Jealous?”
His fingertips slid down Yu Fengran’s abs. “Want to check my phone?”
This was their dangerous game.
Whenever Yu Fengran tried to cross a certain line, Lin Jianhe would use a more intimate offensive to dismantle his defenses.
Like now, he was kneeling on Yu Fengran’s waist, the metal button of his jeans digging into his lower abdomen.
“Jianhe.”
Yu Fengran gripped his waist. “You said your family was all in London last time.”
Lin Jianhe’s hand, which was unbuckling his belt, paused. “Yeah.”
“But last month, your aunt called, and the area code was 020.”
Yu Fengran stared at the suddenly tense line of his jaw. “Guangzhou’s area code.”
The movie happened to switch to a silent space scene at that moment, leaving only the sound of their breathing in the entire living room.
Lin Jianhe suddenly pinched Yu Fengran’s nape, forcing him to look up, kissing him fiercely and urgently.
The mellow bitterness of the whiskey spread between their lips and teeth. Yu Fengran tasted a hint of rust – his lip had been bitten.
“So concerned about me?”
Lin Jianhe pulled open his collar, leaving a heavy bruise on his collarbone as he panted,
“Fengran, the way you care about me is really fascinating, but…we said at the beginning that we’d give each other some space!”
Yu Fengran stiffened all over.
Lin Jianhe took the opportunity to push him back onto the sofa, his knee pressed between his legs.
The projector light was shining on Lin Jianhe’s back, his face against the light, his expression unclear.
The coffee machine made a harsh beeping sound, and the scalding liquid overflowed, pouring onto the back of Yu Fengran’s hand.
He recoiled, the ceramic cup hitting the ground and shattering.
“Hiss—”
“Don’t move!”
Zhuo Huaimo grabbed his wrist, turning on the tap and rinsing the burn with mineral water.
“What are you thinking about, so distracted?”
The cool water washed over the reddened skin. Yu Fengran stared at the winding water stains on the tiles. “Does CEO Qi take calls behind your back?”
Zhuo Huaimo paused. “I know all his passwords.”
A cotton swab dipped in burn cream traced across the wound. “He had to show me his new script at three in the morning last week, annoyed me so much I almost kicked him out of bed.”
Yu Fengran curled the corners of his mouth, the smile not reaching his eyes.
Zhuo Huaimo threw away the cotton swab, asking seemingly casually, “Did you fight with Lin Jianhe?”
“No.”
Yu Fengran twisted the plain ring on his ring finger – the couple ring Lin Jianhe had given him last month.
“It’s just…he’s been avoiding me when he takes calls lately.”
The frosted glass of the tea room reflected their blurry figures.
Zhuo Huaimo slowly packed up the first aid kit, the aluminum tweezers making a crisp sound. “Have you asked him about it?”
“He said it was a work call.”
Yu Fengran unconsciously stroked the inscription on the inside of the ring – LYYFR0423.
“But yesterday I heard him call the other person ‘bro’.”
The smell of disinfectant suddenly became pungent.
Zhuo Huaimo remembered the investigation information Qi Yanwang had sent last night – Lin Jianhe was an only child.
“You…”
Zhuo Huaimo carefully considered his words. “Love him very much?”
The way Yu Fengran nodded was like sentencing himself.
The sunlight streamed through the blinds, cutting alternating stripes of light and shadow on his face, his eyelashes casting a spiderweb-like shadow under his eyes.
“If you don’t feel secure in a relationship…”
Zhuo Huaimo stuffed the burn cream into his pocket. “Sometimes retreating takes more courage than attacking.”
The microwave suddenly beeped, scattering the rest of his sentence.
Yu Fengran stared at his distorted reflection in the microwave door, vaguely seeing Lin Jianhe’s backlit smiling face that day.
At seven in the evening, the apartment was filled with the aroma of basil-braised beef.
As Yu Fengran sprinkled rosemary into the soup, the lock clicked.
“Smells good.”
Lin Jianhe wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, his nose brushing against the back of his ear. “Home from work so early today?”
Yu Fengran turned around and handed him a sauce dish. “Taste the saltiness.”
Lin Jianhe licked the soup from the edge of the spoon, his tongue grazing his fingertips. “Perfect.”
A kiss landed on the corner of his lips. “I’m going to change.”
His phone was casually tossed onto the cooking counter, the screen still lit.
Yu Fengran stared at the lock screen photo – a photo of them together at Disneyland last month, Lin Jianhe wearing the Mickey ears he had bought him, smiling like a college student.
The sound of water trickling.
He inexplicably entered 0423.
Incorrect password.
His heart suddenly pounded.
He tried 423913 – a combination of their birthdays.
The home screen suddenly opened.
A bright red [3] marked the upper right corner of the WeChat icon. The most recent contact was “Bro 17:48”:
[Put the stuff in the usual spot]
[Don’t let YFR find out]
[Remember to clean it up]
His fingers clicked on the chat box faster than his brain could process.
The top displayed “Typing,” and a new message suddenly popped up:
[Did that Zhuo guy try to get something out of you that day?]
Yu Fengran’s hand trembled, and the phone almost fell into the pot.
“What’s wrong?” Lin Jianhe’s voice came from the bathroom.
“Nothing!”
Yu Fengran frantically wiped the phone with a cloth. “The soup…the soup spilled.”
When Zhuo Huaimo pushed open the door, the rich aroma of mushroom and chicken soup wafted over him.
Qi Yanwang poked his head out of the kitchen, wearing an apron and holding a soup ladle. “Perfect timing, the matsutake mushrooms just went in.”
“I’m exhausted.”
Zhuo Huaimo threw his briefcase on the sofa, sinking into the cloud-like soft cushions.
Cool fingertips suddenly touched the back of his neck, Qi Yanwang expertly massaging his temples.
“Yu Fengran was distracted today.”
Zhuo Huaimo closed his eyes, letting him do as he pleased. “He mistook burn cream for dermatitis cream.”
Qi Yanwang’s thumb pressed hard on a point behind his ear. “Did you come clean with him?”
“Wouldn’t dare.”
Zhuo Huaimo painfully shrank his neck. “Just hinted that he should cut his losses in time.”
He turned around and grabbed Qi Yanwang’s apron strings. “What about the information you investigated?”
The ladle tapped against the edge of the pot, making a crisp sound.
Qi Yanwang pulled up a document on his phone. “Lin Jianhe, 28 years old, Master’s in Finance from Cambridge, currently working in the audit department of PricewaterhouseCoopers.” He scrolled to the family relations page. “Parents divorced, lives with his mother in London – looks flawless on the surface.”
“But?”
“But he started working at PwC six months before his graduation date.”
Qi Yanwang opened a blurry surveillance screenshot. “On the 17th of last month, he appeared at an abandoned chemical plant in the north of the city, meeting this flowery arm man.”
Zhuo Huaimo sat up straight.
The man in the black trench coat in the photo was lighting a cigarette, the flame illuminating the snake tattoo on his left arm. He definitely didn’t look like a good guy!
The pot suddenly boiled over, the bubbling sound like a rapid alarm.
As Qi Yanwang turned off the heat, Zhuo Huaimo had already dialed Yu Fengran’s number, which went to voicemail after a long series of busy tones.
“How about…”
Qi Yanwang walked over, wiping his hands. “Have Old Liu send someone to follow him?”
Zhuo Huaimo chuckled. “Liu Jinchen is at least the second-in-command of the Green Dragon Gang. How has he become your private detective all these years?”
Qi Yanwang raised his eyebrows proudly. “That’s the charm of your husband. Besides, I’ve cleaned up a lot of messes for him over the years! He gets tricked by those little stars all the time. I really don’t know what he uses that big brain of his for!”
Indeed, in terms of brains, Liu Jinchen couldn’t outsmart Qi Yanwang, no, how many could outsmart Qi Yanwang.
Zhuo Huaimo got up and patted his shoulder.
“Alright, you arrange it. I’m going to take a shower, I’m exhausted!”
—
Liu Jinchen squatted in front of a roadside stall, staring at the wrinkled black jacket in the stall owner’s hand, his brow furrowed so tightly it could kill a fly.
He originally thought he just had to send the person back, damn it, who would have thought this elite would come to this broken place to drink after work instead of going home.
He was wearing a black tank top, and people wouldn’t let him in with his big arm tattoos.
In desperation, he bought a stall item!
It’s been so many years since he wore stall clothes, Grandpa Liu was already used to the finer things!
He pinched the collar and shook it, “This material will chafe you to death!”
Liu Jinchen clicked his tongue, pulled out a wrinkled bill from his pocket and slapped it on the stall.
He quickly put on the jacket that was obviously a size too small, the sleeves constricting his biceps, his back stretched tight, looking like a bear stuffed into children’s clothes.
He looked down at himself – a black tight jacket, jeans, and a thick gold chain around his neck.
“……”
He scratched his head, feeling that this outfit not only didn’t make him look low-key, but made him look even more like a gangster.
“Forget it, anyway, that kid Yu Fengran wouldn’t recognize me.”
He smoked a cigarette and swaggered into the bar.
Yu Fengran sat at the bar, his suit jacket draped over the back of the chair, the cuffs of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing a defined forearm.
Half a glass of whiskey sat in front of him, the ice almost melted, the amber liquid gleaming coldly in the light.
He stared blankly at the glass, his mind filled with the message from Lin Jianhe’s phone last night –
[Did that Zhuo guy try to get something out of you that day?]
What did that mean? What was Zhuo Huaimo trying to get out of him? What was Lin Jianhe hiding from him?
He irritably raised his head and took a sip of wine, his throat burning from the strong liquor.
“Handsome, are you alone?”
A blonde man leaned over, his arm around his shoulder, the heavy perfume making him frown.
Yu Fengran glanced at him coldly: “Get lost.”
The blonde man didn’t get lost, but instead moved closer: “So much fire? Want me to help you let it out?”
Yu Fengran grabbed his wrist, his grip so strong it could almost crush bone: “I said, get lost.”
The blonde man grimaced in pain and was about to curse when a low chuckle suddenly came from behind him—
“Yo, so lively?”
Yu Fengran looked up and saw a burly man standing behind the blonde man, a black jacket stretched over his muscles, flowery arm exposed, a thick gold chain around his neck, radiating an aura of “don’t mess with me.”
The blonde man’s expression changed: “Liu, Liu Jinchen?”
Liu Jinchen grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth: “You know me? Then get lost?”
The blonde man scrambled away.
Yu Fengran frowned at the man who had suddenly appeared: “…Thanks, but I don’t need help.”
Liu Jinchen sat down next to him, snapped his fingers at the bartender: “Whiskey, with ice.”
Then he turned to Yu Fengran and grinned: “What a coincidence, Director Yu.”
Yu Fengran’s pupils shrank: “You know me?”
Liu Jinchen shrugged: “Zhuo Huaimo asked me to keep an eye on you, afraid you’d get drunk and be kidnapped.”
Yu Fengran’s face instantly turned cold: “He asked you to follow me?”
“Don’t make it sound so bad.”
Liu Jinchen took a sip of wine. “Those two are just worried about you. Are you okay? Do you want to go home now?”