“Then he must be quite capable.”
These six short words landed on the ears of the two men, each with its own deep significance.
Chen Zemian heard in them his father’s utter laissez-faire attitude towards Lu Zhuonian managing him.
He had been hoping his dad would step in and rescue him with a stern word from an elder. Instead, Chen Qingyu not only failed to take his side, but actually praised Lu Zhuonian. What was this if not a bestowal of the imperial sword? Now Lu Zhuonian would be even more justified, more overt, and utterly unconstrained!
Chen Zemian closed his eyes in a slump of despair, feeling utterly finished, completely beyond help.
In contrast to Chen Zemian’s blind pessimism, Lu Zhuonian faintly detected a hint of intriguing innuendo in those six ambiguous words.
You’re quite capable, then.
You can sneakily steal my son, and you can even keep him in line.
This sentence was seemingly a compliment but was subtly critical. On the surface, it sounded perfectly ordinary, but a closer look revealed a hidden, threatening undertone.
Chen Qingyu was genuinely conflicted. On the one hand, seeing anyone named Lu made his blood boil, but on the other, he had to admit the man was exceptional, capable of making the willfully reckless Chen Zemian willingly submit to discipline.
Yet, another thought immediately followed: his precious eldest son, whom he had lovingly cared for more than twenty years, had not only been easily snatched away, but now obeyed Lu Zhuonian’s every word and command.
If it were just a matter of listening to advice about diet and sleep, that might be tolerable. But if he became that compliant in other matters…
What would his son become then?!
In a daze, Chen Qingyu heard a ‘snap.’
He initially thought the sound was his own ears ringing from the sheer anger, but seeing both Chen Zemian and Lu Zhuonian staring at his hand, he realized he had just angrily snapped the sturdy stainless steel dinner fork in two.
Chen Zemian, thinking his father was enraged by the fact he’d nearly died from overwork, immediately lowered his guard. He said cautiously, “Dad, please don’t be angry. I’ll take good care of myself.”
Chen Qingyu slowly opened his hand, and the two severed pieces of the fork clattered from his palm.
While it was the stainless steel fork that had been twisted apart, both men seated across from him felt a deep, private fear that what Chen Qingyu really wanted to twist apart was their heads.
Chen Qingyu lifted his chin and asked Chen Zemian, “How do you take care of yourself? You’ve always done as you pleased. Was I too lax with you?”
“Lu Zhuonian manages me a lot,” Chen Zemian said, deflecting the blame onto Lu Zhuonian in zero seconds. “He’s super disciplined. He works out every day, and he even tracks his calorie intake precisely. I’ll listen to him from now on. Whatever he tells me to do, I’ll do.”
Lu Zhuonian’s vision went black. The extreme absurdity of the situation caused his usually perfect poker face to crack; he barely managed not to burst out laughing.
Chen Qingyu laughed too. “Working out is a good habit. What do you usually train?”
Alarm bells went off in Lu Zhuonian’s mind. He answered guardedly, “Strength training, cardio, functional training, you know, the common things.”
Chen Zemian’s intention was to praise Lu Zhuonian’s wide range of interests in front of his father, but he effectively shoved Lu Zhuonian straight into a fire pit. “He also likes extreme sports—car racing, skydiving, diving, mountain climbing, speed skiing, bo—”
Under the tablecloth, Lu Zhuonian sharply jabbed Chen Zemian’s thigh, successfully knocking the last word, “xing” (for boxing), back into his throat.
Chen Zemian tilted his head innocently, looking at Lu Zhuonian with a questioning look that asked: What’s wrong?
Lu Zhuonian silently returned a look that conveyed eight words: Do you think I’m hard to kill?
The activities listed were all notoriously high-risk. Given Chen Qingyu’s superhuman physique, if he ever took a dislike to Lu Zhuonian, he could casually take him mountaineering or skiing and ensure his death on the slopes went completely undetected.
And as for boxing, was that something to show off about in front of Chen Qingyu?
Chen Qingyu needed only one hand to pin down Chen Zemian, who was otherwise undefeated in the boxing rings of the capital city.
The other activities might only result in a deadly accident if Chen Qingyu completely lost his temper, but boxing wasn’t a one-off event. Chen Qingyu could “spar” with him whenever the mood struck.
It was obvious who would be doing the “cutting” and who would be doing the “grinding.”
Sure enough, Chen Qingyu’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Very good.”
The three of them finished the meal, each with their own secret agenda.
Because Lu Zhuonian had dropped his fork and Chen Qingyu had broken his, both men had to use only spoons. With the inconvenient cutlery, this deadly meal dragged on for an unusually long time.
After they finished eating, Chen Zemian, who had originally planned to stay the night, saw the frosty expression on his father’s face and frantically ushered Lu Zhuonian out, inventing an excuse on the spot. “Don’t you have an online defense tonight? Let’s just head home now.”
Lu Zhuonian readily agreed.
The two said their goodbyes to Chen Qingyu as if nothing were amiss, then quickly left the villa, driving off in the G-Wagon.
Chen Qingyu stood at the door and watched Chen Zemian habitually climb into the passenger seat, his expression softening slightly.
— * — * — * — * — *— * — * — * — * — *— * — * — * — * — *
On the way back, Chen Zemian immediately started haggling with Lu Zhuonian.
He really didn’t want to start living a health-conscious life right now. He was sick of a daily diet of medicated cuisine, and his last all-nighter that nearly killed him was an accident.
Towards the end of the project, everyone was rushing to meet the deadline. As the lead planner, if Chen Zemian didn’t finalize the detailed outline first, no one else could start work.
“You know that text-based work needs inspiration. I couldn’t write at the office, I was stuck on the outline for over a week, and then suddenly the inspiration just flowed, so I rushed it over three consecutive all-nighters.”
Lu Zhuonian glanced at Chen Zemian. “Three all-nighters?”
Chen Zemian explained, “I didn’t go without sleep entirely. When I got tired, I’d nap for a bit, but I wouldn’t sleep soundly. I’d wake up after a few dozen minutes and go right back to work.”
This was indeed typical of Chen Zemian.
When he was slacking off, he could go half a year without working, but when the drive to produce suddenly hit him, he was like a man on an energy drink—his stamina was even greater than Lu Zhuonian’s.
But that state of excitement usually didn’t last long, and the high-functioning period required a substantial amount of rest and recovery afterward.
Lu Zhuonian squeezed Chen Zemian’s hand. “Forget it. I won’t say the things you already know. Talking too much is pointless, and it just gets annoying.”
Chen Zemian loved this kind of understanding from Lu Zhuonian—no useless chatter, no grand lectures. Although his control freak tendencies meant he wanted to manage everything, he still managed to avoid that uncomfortable, preachy feeling.
Instead of talking useless nonsense, he preferred to take concrete action.
Lu Zhuonian would arrange everything perfectly, and Chen Zemian wouldn’t need to consciously change his own behavior to live comfortably in the environment Lu Zhuonian created.
Being with such a person wasn’t emotionally exhausting.
So, no matter how much Lu Zhuonian tried to manage him, Chen Zemian never felt restricted.
“But the medicated food is really awful,” Chen Zemian hooked his finger around Lu Zhuonian’s. “And we’re abroad right now, there’s already barely anything to eat. I can’t stand ‘white people food.’ If you don’t let me have any of that junk food, I’ll be eating nothing but salads—it’s like eating grass.”
Hearing this, Lu Zhuonian couldn’t help but chuckle. He promised, “I won’t make you eat salad every day, but you need to eat less sugar, all right?”
Chen Zemian huffed with dissatisfaction. “Why?”
Lu Zhuonian said, “Long-term consumption of high-sugar foods has been shown to significantly shorten lifespan.”
Chen Zemian seized on the key phrase: “Long-term consumption shortens it. Can’t I have some in the short term? We agreed on the way here that we’d buy a Frappuccino on the way back.”
Lu Zhuonian did not confirm or deny it.
Chen Zemian didn’t often get carsick, but it happened occasionally, especially on long drives while looking at his phone. Given his near-zero self-control, telling him not to use his phone was useless. Rather than watching him put his phone away and be so bored he was fidgeting in his seat, it was better to buy him a Frappuccino.
With a Frappuccino, Chen Zemian would be so grateful for Lu Zhuonian’s favor that he wouldn’t constantly look down at his phone; instead, he’d find things to talk about with Lu Zhuonian.
They had indeed agreed to buy a Frappuccino on the way back.
Lu Zhuonian’s eyes shifted slightly. He suddenly called his name. “Mian Mian.”
Chen Zemian turned his head. “What is it?”
Lu Zhuonian’s voice was neutral—neither a sigh nor confusion. He spoke in a very ordinary tone: “If you’re not around at 27, what will I do, Chen Zemian?”
Chen Zemian’s heart felt a sudden, agonizing squeeze. He was instantly overwhelmed by sorrow and looked down, saying nothing.
It was only a hypothetical, and the person presumed gone was himself. Yet, for some reason, the thought of Lu Zhuonian being left all alone in the future made Chen Zemian’s eyes sting with heat.
Lu Zhuonian did not break his promise. As they drove past a coffee shop, he used the curbside pickup function to order two Frappuccinos, which he placed in the cup holders on the center console.
Chen Zemian acted as if he didn’t notice them. He didn’t play on his phone, instead fiddling with his hood strings and chatting idly with Lu Zhuonian.
They arrived back at the high-end Boston apartment. The icy drink had melted into sweet liquid, and the condensation on the plastic cups had soaked the paper holders, yet no one had touched them.
The once beloved Mocha Frappuccinos went unclaimed that night.
Simply because Chen Zemian couldn’t bear to leave Lu Zhuonian alone.
— * — * — * — * — *— * — * — * — * — *— * — * — * — * — *
From that day on, Chen Zemian, who had previously been left to roam freely, became a completely domesticated house pet.
Lu Zhuonian knew he was being overly anxious, but he couldn’t help the persistent sense of fear and loss. He practically wanted to tether Chen Zemian to himself, taking him everywhere he went.
Chen Zemian even followed Lu Zhuonian to class for a few days. They sat together in the back during large lectures. During small seminars or group meetings, Chen Zemian would wander around the campus on his own, visiting club activities, Widener Library, and the Museum of Natural History.
As a century-old famous institution, Harvard had many areas open to the public, so it wasn’t boring. He even made a few new friends; he later found out that one of them, named Arnold, was a member of the royal family of Country Y.
Whenever it was cloudy or rainy, Lu Zhuonian wouldn’t bring Chen Zemian to school.
Chen Zemian loved to sleep on rainy days and often wouldn’t wake up until noon.
The apartment manager would deliver meals at the appropriate time, as instructed by Lu Zhuonian. Chen Zemian would prop up his phone on the dining table and video call Lu Zhuonian, showing him the meal as he ate it, like a mukbang live stream.
Lu Zhuonian had stopped feeding Chen Zemian medicated food, and the daily meals were delicious. The most obvious changes were a reduced frequency of deep-fried foods, and the complete absence of ice cream and cold drinks.
The drinks served with the meal were usually freshly squeezed fruit juices.
However, the room-temperature juice tasted sub-par, and sometimes had bits of unfiltered pulp, making it even harder to drink.
To be precise, all room-temperature drinks were terrible, whether it was juice, coffee, soda, champagne, red wine, or sparkling water.
Ice was the soul of a beverage.
Summer in Boston was hot and humid. As July arrived, the weather grew hotter by the day. Although the apartment had central air conditioning, this did not quell Chen Zemian’s craving for a cold drink.
Lu Zhuonian’s heart was as cold as iron.
Unable to have ice, Chen Zemian was utterly lifeless.
At night, he initially planned to lie in bed playing dead, using his world-weary attitude as passive protest. However, his body was utterly uncooperative. Not only were his earlobes and neck sensitive, but Lu Zhuonian was also full of tricks: he’d take a sip of the ice Chen Zemian longed for, and then kiss him with it.
Chen Zemian jolted, lost his composure, and was effectively kissed back to life.
— * — * — * — * — *— * — * — * — * — *— * — * — * — * — *
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Author: LazyHermitGal
A Lazy Hermit Gal wondering in the void and falling into the translation abyss.
