Chapter 36.2

There were Aunt Fang’s signature side dishes, along with a bowl of warm vegetable porridge. The heat warmed Lu Yi’s stomach, bringing comfort. She wasn’t much of a talker during meals, especially with Lin Jinshen, and quietly focused on eating.

Aunt Fang, on the other hand, was chatting with him.

She mentioned that he’d been coming home more frequently lately and suggested she could prepare dinner for them to enjoy together after work. Lin Jinshen declined, explaining that his work hours were unpredictable and that he didn’t often eat dinner.

Aunt Fang, however, tried advocating for Lu Yi. “The madam has lost weight recently,” she said.

How pitiful, right? Surely, he’d feel some sympathy.

Caught off guard, Lu Yi nearly choked. She wasn’t sure where Aunt Fang’s sudden theatrics came from. A napkin appeared in front of her—Lin Jinshen had handed it over. He looked at her and said, “She has lost weight.”

After all, he had just measured last night.

In this matter, no one was more qualified to comment than he was.

Lu Yi couldn’t decipher what he was thinking from his expression. She accepted the napkin and calmly dabbed at her lips.

“Right? The madam hasn’t had much of an appetite in the evenings. It must be because eating alone isn’t enjoyable,” Aunt Fang added with a clear undertone.

Lu Yi: “…”

Eating alone was just fine, actually.

Lin Jinshen responded with a soft “hmm” and said he’d try to make time.

Aunt Fang, satisfied with the outcome, left the dining area with a smile to clean up the kitchen.

Lu Yi ate two small bowls of porridge, a fried egg, and two steamed dumplings. She couldn’t manage anything else, not even the half-glass of milk she left untouched.

Lin Jinshen, on the other hand, ate more in the mornings, focusing on carbs and protein. After finishing his portion, his gaze swept over her leftover milk. Without a word, he picked it up and finished it himself.

It was so natural, as though they were an old married couple and sharing food was routine.

As she wiped her mouth, Lu Yi dazedly wondered, Doesn’t he have a cleanliness obsession?

Lin Jinshen had already stood up. “I’m heading to the company. If you’re still tired, get some more rest.”

“Alright. Drive safe.”

Her response came naturally, soft and obedient.

Lu Yi didn’t go back to sleep, though. Once full, she found herself wide awake. She opened her phone and started replying to messages. The group chat, which had gone wild the night before, had already reverted to its original name: Successors of Socialism. She scrolled up, deleting all the videos and photos they had sent. She didn’t want a repeat of that dream tonight.

Among the messages was one from Mrs. Qin, asking about bridesmaids—suggesting an even number, not odd—and discussing dresses and other details.

Sitting cross-legged on the sofa with her cat Puff snuggled against her, Lu Yi considered her choices. She didn’t have many close friends, so picking two bridesmaids was sufficient.

Yu Yin was one of them.

After deciding, Lu Yi created a group chat for the bridesmaids to coordinate wedding details.

Yu Yin remembered last night’s events and asked about her situation. “Were you so exhausted by the charity banquet?”

Lu Yi: [No.]

Yu Yin: [But your Lin said you were worn out?]

Lu Yi: “…”

Lu Yi: [What else did he say?]

Yu Yin: [Nothing. Just that. When you didn’t respond, we thought something happened and called you.]

Lu Yi could guess when this happened. Pressing her temples, she added another offense to Lin Jinshen’s growing list.

Meanwhile, Lin Jinshen also needed to select his groomsmen. Due to his personality, he hadn’t made many close connections over the years, with only a handful he genuinely trusted. Of those, three were childhood friends from equally affluent and capable families.

Though they rarely met or even chatted, whenever they did, it was as if nothing had changed.

Lin Jinshen sent the groomsmen details to their group chat.

Ji Changming: [Didn’t expect Brother Shen to be the second one among us to get married. Who am I supposed to call when it’s my turn?]

He was the youngest and most easygoing of the group. The other two? One was cold and unpredictable, the other outwardly warm but inwardly detached.

Yu Zeheng: [You can call me.]

Gu Yu: [Depending on the custom, groomsmen aren’t supposed to be divorced men in some places.]

[It might bring bad luck.]

Yu Zeheng: [That could also be the best blessing for a new marriage.]

Ji Changming interjected: [What kind of blessing?]

Yu Zeheng: [To feel like a newlywed every night.]

Ji Changming let out an awkward laugh: [Hahaha, Brother Yu, your humor is as sharp as ever.]

Gu Yu: [Someone’s divorce is clearly getting to them.]

…

After finishing his tasks, Lin Jinshen glanced at the group chat. The conversation had clearly veered off-topic. He directly tagged Gu Yu and Ji Changming, appointing them to prepare as groomsmen, cleanly and decisively making the decision.

There were only three of them to choose from—one recently divorced and the other two still single—so the decision wasn’t hard.

Yu Zeheng: [Even you discriminate against me?]

Lin Jinshen: [Not quite.]

Lin Jinshen: [From now on, mention of those word is banned.]

Yu Zeheng: [Which word? Divorce?]

Seconds later, the system notified: Yu Zeheng has been removed from the group.

Yu Zeheng, now exiled: “???”

Unbelievable. Could anyone still call this human behavior?

The remaining two in the group were nearly laughing themselves to death. This kind of treatment was unique to Lin Jinshen’s style. After some playful teasing, they added Yu Zeheng back into the group. Furious, Yu Zeheng cursed Lin Jinshen for being inhumane, but the others quickly shifted topics, letting the matter drop.

Having not seen each other for a while, they decided this was a good opportunity for a reunion.

Yu Zeheng, still bitter, responded darkly: [I’m not going. Wouldn’t want to bring you guys bad luck.]

Ji Changming: [Come on, you just lost your wife. If you lose your friends too, wouldn’t that be even sadder?]

Gu Yu: [Exactly. Besides, how am I supposed to make fun of you behind your back if you’re not there in person? That’s not my style.]

Yu Zeheng slowly typed out a single question mark: [?]

Lin Jinshen: [You’re welcome to try.]

Yu Zeheng, absolutely livid, sent a passive-aggressive smiley emoji. His silent conclusion? Marriage hadn’t made Lin Jinshen more human; it had only made him worse.

—

The four of them arranged to meet at Tang Palace, on the third floor in a private room that had been reserved exclusively for their group since the building was constructed. Tang Palace was part of the Yu family’s business.

Lin Jinshen arrived on time. Ji Changming was the last to show up, his boyish face as misleading as ever, making him look a few years younger than he was. He greeted everyone with cheerful “bro”s, explaining that he’d been stuck in traffic.

Yu Zeheng lounged in the corner of the sofa, his long legs stretched out lazily. His demeanor was steeped in a kind of weary indulgence, a mixture of decadence and casual indifference.

Gu Yu, already seated, instructed the server to bring out a bottle of Lin Jinshen’s private reserve.

“Let’s set the rules now: tonight, no complaints about marriage. We’re only here for good vibes,” Gu Yu announced, his tone pointed. It was practically a direct callout to Yu Zeheng.

Yu Zeheng narrowed his eyes. “Who’s even interested?”

Lin Jinshen strolled over, effectively cutting off the exchanged glares between the two. Though not the eldest of the group, he carried the most authority. His maturity and composure often made him seem decades older than his actual age.

The four of them soon gathered around to play cards.

Ji Changming started sharing some gossip he’d picked up recently—no names mentioned. Apparently, a certain young master had, within two months, gifted someone a house, a car, and started coming straight home from work as if on a time clock.

Lin Jinshen glanced at him sideways. Ji Changming smiled innocently, clearly having been dying to share this bit of news.

Gu Yu chimed in, “Wow, sounds a bit creepy. There are usually only two explanations for this kind of behavior: either they’re married—familiar, huh, Yu Zeheng?—or they’ve fallen into some scam.”

“In my opinion,” Gu Yu continued, “the first is scarier than the second.”

One drains your wallet; the other ruins your life.

Yu Zeheng stayed silent. Having made those mistakes himself, he let the jokes roll off him.

Lin Jinshen, unfazed, continued playing his cards, his luck tonight exceptional. Every move he made raked in chips from the table. Calmly, he asked, “Is it really that strange? Isn’t this the most basic expectation in a marriage?”

When two people register their union, sign their names, and seal it with a stamp, they are legally bound by shared responsibilities and obligations. Beyond parental ties, the bond between spouses is the closest relationship one can have, meant to last a lifetime.

“She is my wife. Whatever others have, she will have. And whatever others don’t have, she will still have.”

It was that simple. He would give her everything, as long as he could and as long as she wanted.

Lin Jinshen wasn’t trying to preach. This was simply how he operated. Once he committed to something, he saw it through—unless one day Lu Yi decided she had enough and pressed pause on their relationship.

Ji Changming laughed. “So what you’re saying is, everything you do is out of responsibility as a husband, with no feelings involved?”

Would he treat another wife the same way if it weren’t Lu Yi?

Lin Jinshen looked down, his expression unreadable. After a brief pause, he played another winning card before replying, “Feelings or not, it wouldn’t change anything.”

He neither confirmed nor denied. His true thoughts were left for them to interpret.

Gu Yu smirked. Fair enough. Everyone here knew Lin Jinshen well. He wasn’t someone ruled by emotions; otherwise, he wouldn’t have stayed single for so long. Marriage hadn’t altered that fact.

“I’d still want to marry someone I genuinely like,” Ji Changming mused. “Marriage is long, and day-to-day life is hard to get through without some affection.”

Yu Zeheng, feeling stabbed, drummed his fingers on the table. “Can we talk about something else?”

Since when had their conversations become so focused on marriage and wives? Boring. Absolutely no fun.

Lin Jinshen casually steered the conversation toward his wedding preparations, asking Yu Zeheng for advice on procedures and pitfalls to avoid.

Yu Zeheng was skeptical, unsure if this was intentional provocation or genuine inquiry, but eventually gave in and started sharing his experiences.

The two other bachelors, soon to be groomsmen, also listened intently. Conversations like these were a far cry from their past topics, but no one seemed to notice how much had changed.

—

Mid-discussion, Lin Jinshen’s phone rang.

The phone was on the table, so when the screen lit up with the caller ID, Ji Changming immediately noticed the label: “Wife.”

Not “Baby” or a cute nickname—just straightforward and unmistakable.

Ji Changming silently mouthed to the others, “Sister-in-law.” He then folded his arms, clearly ready to watch the show unfold.

“Must be a check-in call. Good thing there are no women here,” Gu Yu quipped, leaning back in his chair, swirling his glass of wine.

Lin Jinshen glanced at the screen, hesitated for a moment, then chose to answer.

“Hello?”

Lu Yi’s voice came through, soft and gentle as always, like a mountain spring—clear and pleasant.

“Mm,” he responded with a low hum.

The others weren’t eavesdropping, per se, but the table was small, and curiosity was unavoidable.

Not knowing he was with friends, Lu Yi hesitated, her tone apologetic. “Are you busy? Am I disturbing you?”

Three pairs of eyes locked onto Lin Jinshen, some subtle, some less so, all loaded with meaning.

His jaw tightened slightly, though his face revealed no emotion. After a moment, his Adam’s apple shifted as he swallowed. Then, in an unexpectedly soft voice, he replied, “Not busy.”

“You’re not disturbing me.”

His tone was so gentle, even his straight-shooting friends caught the shift.

“?”

The group collectively thought, You’re seriously going to claim you’re not emotional? Try saying that again.