Green Tea Enters The Story Of Abuse [Book] Chapter 8
byChapter 8: Wedding Night
While An Yu was contemplating his nightlife, Xing Zhan was busy with work, expecting to finish around ten-thirty.
He had spent many previous nights exactly like this.
He hadn’t planned on working late tonight; it was his wedding night, and he shouldn’t neglect his partner.
Now that the groom had been replaced, the wedding night naturally ceased to exist, so Xing Zhan went about his business as usual.
Besides working, he also handled a few private matters.
For instance, sending Xing Anbang abroad for three months.
This served both as punishment for his malicious intentions at the wedding and as a preventative measure against that bastard running to Old Master Xing and spouting nonsense.
As for the inquiries from relatives and friends about the change in grooms, Xing Zhan provided a unified response.
He claimed he had fallen in love with An Yu at first sight, and due to the rushed timing, they hadn’t properly notified everyone.
This explanation held little credibility, especially since the truth had already spread within the An Family, but they needed a plausible, respectable reason for the public.
Xing Zhan didn’t care much about external opinions.
As long as he was around, and as long as the Xing Family prospered, nothing would be a problem.
It was only to Madam Xing that Xing Zhan, despite his reluctance, told the truth.
His mother was straightforward, but An Yu had too many schemes.
If he didn’t clarify the situation, An Yu might sweet-talk his mother and use her to stir up trouble…
Madam Xing was both upset and angry: “How can someone be like that!”
The child looked so pretty and well-behaved…
Xing Zhan said gently, “This is a good thing.”
Madam Xing: “A good thing?”
Xing Zhan explained: “Getting married in a rush, I actually felt very uncertain. It would have been terrible if we found out after marriage that we couldn’t get along. Now, I don’t need to be responsible for him. After a year, we’ll separate, and I’ll have enough time to find someone I truly love.”
Madam Xing thought about it and realized he was right.
She said, “As long as you have a plan.”
Her worries lessened, but she developed an extreme dislike for An Yu, thinking she must find an opportunity to properly warn An Yu later and make him behave himself.
Xing Zhan then cautioned Madam Xing not to reveal anything in front of Old Master Xing.
The day had been too busy and chaotic.
After hanging up the phone, he gazed out at the night sky, steadied himself slightly, and then picked up the documents on his desk.
His phone chimed.
An Yu: [Brother, are you sleeping?]
Xing Zhan didn’t believe that An Yu’s definition of “sleeping” was purely innocent.
He could even imagine that if they were face-to-face, An Yu would be using those bright, watery eyes to tempt him.
After a brief moment of distraction, Xing Zhan replied: [Busy, you go to sleep first].
Before the message could be sent, a photo popped up in the chat box, blindingly white.
Two seconds later, Xing Zhan deleted the photo and expressionlessly typed: [Very ugly].
That comment was unnecessarily harsh.
He deleted it and re-typed: [Busy, you go to sleep first].
Xing Zhan would never touch An Yu.
Although An Yu’s appearance was indeed very attractive, he wouldn’t engage in such activities with someone he had no feelings for, especially since An Yu was not a good person.
An Yu poked the screen where Xing Zhan’s reply sat and didn’t send any more messages.
It looked like he would have to live like a monk for the next year.
After a brief moment of silent mourning, he prepared for a high-quality sleep.
An Yu was not a good sleeper.
He was afraid that if he didn’t explain in advance, Xing Zhan might misunderstand and angrily kick him onto the floor, which would be bad.
An Yu’s sleeping habits were fine when he was a child.
The orphanage he lived in was short on funds, and the children slept on large communal beds, often squeezing three children onto two mattresses.
In that situation, turning over was difficult.
Later, when he had money, the thing An Yu loved buying most was beds.
He bought the biggest and best ones.
He thrashed around vigorously, and gradually, his sleeping posture became extremely domineering.
At ten thirty-five, Xing Zhan returned to the bedroom and saw a lump rising on one side of the bed.
The person curled up, hugging the corner of the quilt, had a face that looked even fairer against the bright red bedding, with rosy lips—though not as beautiful as when he was posing for photos during the day.
Xing Zhan didn’t look again and went to wash up.
When he got into bed, he saw a sticky note attached to the nightstand.
It was familiar, neat small script:
[Brother, my sleeping posture is average. If I crowd you, just push me, and I’ll move over. Good night.]
Xing Zhan was initially very unaccustomed to having an extra person in his bed, especially one with ulterior motives.
Also, the shower gel and shampoo in the bathroom had been used.
For someone with mild洁癖 (cleanliness obsession), this was uncomfortable.
But the handwriting on the note was so neat, and the content so polite, that it surprisingly made him less resistant.
Even if it was just an act, if the performance continued like this, it might be acceptable.
He turned off the light and closed his eyes.
He suffered from insomnia.
Perhaps because his memory was too good, the photo he had deleted not long ago was vividly clear in his mind.
The phrase “pure and flawless” could apparently describe more than just jade.
Xing Zhan’s sleep quality was usually excellent, but this night was fragmented.
He took two cold showers.
A head bumped against his arm twice, and a leg was thrown over him several times; it was like a live fish was flopping around in the bed.
The weight on his leg was negligible.
But the head resting too close, the breath wafting over, was annoying.
He pushed it, and the head moved away, which was quite obedient.
When An Yu woke up, Xing Zhan was not in bed.
His head was wedged between two pillows.
An Yu shuffled back a bit and dozed for a while longer.
He hadn’t slept well, vaguely feeling hot and cold.
It seemed he needed to find an experienced traditional Chinese medicine doctor to regulate his body later.
An Yu asked a servant and learned that Xing Zhan was in the gym, so he went straight to the dining room.
He wasn’t afraid of heat, but he was particularly sensitive to cold.
After confirming that mutton was available, he said he wanted mutton soup. Mutton was excellent for dispelling cold, keeping warm, and boosting yang energy.
The servant in charge of breakfast and lunch, Ma Hua, readily agreed.
After An Yu left, Ma Hua curled his lip: “Eating mutton in the middle of summer, how strange! Just a fake…”
He had called home last night.
His older brother’s child had climbed the social ladder and found a rich partner, even though his own child was more obedient and hardworking.
One after another, they were all shameless…
An Yu, who hadn’t walked far and heard Ma Hua’s words clearly: …Fine.
In the original novel, the Original Host was also bullied by the servants.
The Original Host felt guilty toward Xing Zhan and kept silent.
An Yu wouldn’t.
His relationship with Xing Zhan was essentially a partnership now.
If he had no value, would Xing Zhan give him three million a month for living expenses?
They were all just employees; what was the point of making things difficult for each other?
Xing Zhan came out of the gym and saw someone squatting by the door.
Standing up, he was six feet tall, but squatting, he looked small. He looked up, his large eyes curving brightly: “Brother, morning!”
Xing Zhan looked down: “What are you doing here?”
An Yu: “Waiting for you to eat breakfast.”
Xing Zhan: “Hungry?”
Seeing An Yu nod, he said, “You don’t need to wait next time.”
The two walked downstairs together, and An Yu mentioned he had asked the kitchen to make mutton soup: “You should try some later, it’s delicious.”
Xing Zhan: “…No need.”
Given the situation last night, he would be crazy to drink that.
As for other things.
He had been busy for a long time; it was normal for his body to be excited the moment he relaxed. It would pass in a few days.
An Yu: “Alright then. If you won’t drink it, I will. I think I caught a cold; I felt chilly all over last night. Brother, can you find a doctor for me? A traditional Chinese medicine doctor, to treat the root cause.”
He even added a few envious words about how robust Ma Hua looked, clearly healthy.
Xing Zhan: “…Okay.”
He knew An Yu was afraid of the cold.
Last night, after Xing Zhan showered and got into bed, An Yu, who had been sleeping in the middle, automatically flipped over and crawled away within two seconds.
Breakfast was served, entirely Western cuisine.
Xing Zhan usually ate Western breakfast on weekdays.
An Yu asked, “Where is the mutton soup?”
The servant waiting nearby was the one responsible for Western meals and didn’t speak.
An Yu glanced at Xing Zhan, drooped his head listlessly, and whispered, “Good thing you didn’t want to drink it…”