Chapter 78: Two-Faced Phoenix Man 37

Lu Xiang sought out Jiang Rang on his own a few days later.

The man’s frame was slender and tall. He wore a pure black hoodie, his hair meticulously styled with slightly curly bangs brushing against his thin eyelids, casting faint crescent shadows in the sunlight.

Lu Xiang’s complexion was no longer as pallid and haggard as it had been recently, but he was still gaunt. The line of his jaw was sharply defined, his eye sockets slightly hollowed, with faint shadows beneath his lids.

The man intercepted the young man beneath the towering birch tree in front of the college.

In spring, the birch was among the first trees to bud amid the renewal of all things, and now its branches were thick with lush foliage. Yet its roots appeared aged and weary, as if they had poured every ounce of life into the tender green leaves overhead.

For once, Ji Mingyu wasn’t at Jiang Rang’s side. The young man cradled a fairly thick textbook from his major in his arms, walking calmly along the roadside. His finely boned profile gleamed almost luminously white.

Jiang Rang was always like this. Amid a crowd, he wasn’t the most strikingly handsome, yet he invariably drew everyone’s eyes first.

No matter what he did, the young man moved at an unhurried pace, temperate and measured—never ingratiating, never frivolous. That porcelain-pale face evoked the slick sheen of skin beneath moonlight.

But at that moment, upon catching sight of the man, a flicker of surprise and wariness crossed those beautiful features.

Lu Xiang’s fingers clenched instantly. The man’s hands were attractive—broad and long—yet now the veins bulged prominently across the backs.

It felt as if a cruel, raw, swollen gash had been torn open in his chest. Merely brushing against the cold, resentful gaze of his former lover made the wound throb with excruciating pain.

Yet the sharper the agony, the more his mind treacherously flooded with memories of their love sworn beneath the moon.

Suppressing the involuntary chattering of his teeth, Lu Xiang kept his expression calm, almost serene, maintaining the distance of casual friends. In a soft voice, he said, “Jiang Jiang, after these past few days, I’ve had time to think things over.”

His voice was hoarse and low. “I respect your choice. But we were married once, so there’s no need to make things this awkward. Let’s go home and share one last meal. I’ve picked up a few new recipes lately.”

“. . . After we eat, we’ll go and get the divorce.”

Jiang Rang hesitated visibly, his face a mix of belief and doubt. He seemed not to understand—after all, the man had seen him cheating with his own eyes that day and stubbornly refused divorce. Now, he was suddenly agreeing so readily?

It didn’t add up, no matter how you looked at it.

But Lu Xiang seemed to read his thoughts. With a bitter smile, he lowered his eyelids, a faint flush tinting them. His thick lashes veiled the darkness in his eyes. Lipping his mouth, he rasped, “I don’t mean anything else by it. We’ve been together so long—call it a farewell dinner. . . . My dad called me a few days ago, and it made me see things clearly. Dragging this out is pointless. After this meal, I’ll leave S City.”

“We probably won’t see each other again.”

The man’s voice was so quiet it was almost inaudible, as if his lips hadn’t even parted.

The young man before him blinked in faint shock. A lingering warmth of emotion still simmered between them.

Those days of constant companionship and intimate embraces weren’t fabricated. No matter what, they had been the indelible firsts in each other’s lives.

So in the end, Jiang Rang nodded.

Lu Xiang reined in the churning, foul black tide in his heart. His pitch-black, lightless pupils shifted aside as if to conceal the endless, murky hatred and love swirling within.

They walked side by side into the gorgeous, blazing sunset of evening, just like every day they had once deeply loved one another—stepping forward without looking back.

Lu Xiang led Jiang Rang to the evening market.

The scents of earth and fish assailed them together.

It was an ordinary market, nothing fancy—no high-end shops or dazzling jewelry. It was starkly simple, even grimy.

Jiang Rang was someone who never set foot in the kitchen, so he’d rarely visited a market like this. He couldn’t help taking a step back.

But Lu Xiang moved with familiarity. He stood before a pork stall, his long fingers pressing over the skin of raw meat as he carefully selected his ingredients.

An orange bulb hung above the pork stall, beside rows of neatly prepared cuts. The stall boss was a burly middle-aged man who paused mid-swipe with his palm-leaf fan the moment he spotted Lu Xiang.

Grinning, the boss said, “Xiao Lu, you’re back! Haven’t seen you around for days.”

Lu Xiang smiled. Despite being the Eldest Young Master, he carried no airs. In a casual, easy tone, he replied, “Yeah, I’ve been tied up lately. Finally got some time today.”

The stall boss fanned himself lazily, his gaze drifting inevitably to the young man frowning slightly behind the man. He glanced at Lu Xiang again, pointed at Jiang Rang with the hand gripping his fan, and couldn’t help but ask, “Xiao Lu, is that guy behind you your partner?”

Lu Xiang’s throat bobbed. He selected a nice slab of pork belly and handed it to the boss. Seeming to mind the young man, he didn’t answer the boss’s question directly.

The boss weighed the pork, bagged it up, and as he passed it to the man, he grinned warmly at Jiang Rang. “I can tell you two are definitely a couple. That look in your eyes is different.”

“He’s from Xiao Lu’s family,” the boss chuckled. “Your partner really dotes on you—comes here all the time for the best veggies and meats. Even asks us how to cook ’em tastier!”

Jiang Rang averted his eyes awkwardly, at a loss for words.

Lu Xiang grabbed the ingredients and took the young man’s wrist in one hand while fending off the boss with the other. Under the boss’s beaming gaze, they quickened their steps and hurried away.

The evening market wasn’t all that bustling, with few people around, but Jiang Rang and Lu Xiang’s hands stayed linked.

Their scorching, tense palms stuck together, slick with sweat, yet neither pulled away first or struggled to break free.

Lu Xiang’s heart pounded wildly. He was like Pavlov’s dog—even though the young man had never said a kind word to him, this mere lack of initiative or refusal sparked a flicker of hope in his chest.

The man had just parted his lips when, in that instant, Jiang Rang yanked his hand free.

The young man even pulled out a tissue and wiped his wrist with evident disgust, as if he’d touched something infectious.

Lu Xiang’s racing heart fell silent once more. He clenched his jaw, his dark eyes now choked with muck, devoid of any readable emotion.

They soon finished picking out their groceries. The man hefted a heavy bag in each hand and trailed after the young man back to the Small Room.

It had been a while since Jiang Rang had returned to the Small Room. The moment he pushed open the door, a thick, cloying fragrance hit him full force.

The place was tiny to begin with, and ventilation relied mostly on a few small casement windows. With them shut tight now, even a hint of scent hung heavy in the air.

Jiang Rang couldn’t hold back a sneeze. Frowning, he turned to the man. “Lu Xiang, did you spray perfume in here? Why didn’t you open the windows to air it out? The smell’s overwhelming—”

The words had barely left his mouth when his gaze locked onto the flushed cheeks of the man dressed head to toe in black.

Lu Xiang’s expression just now had been utterly bizarre. Though it lasted only a moment, Jiang Rang had caught it.

The man’s handsome, gaunt face was taut, and Jiang Rang could even vaguely make out his pale teeth pressing against a reddened tongue tip. Gloom and wild abandon clung to his lips like a bone-chilling gale.

But in a flash, that eerie expression and motion evaporated into the air like steam.

Jiang Rang lowered his eyes slightly. After a long pause, a shadow flickered in his dark gaze.

The clever, cunning White Bird had figured it out—this wasn’t some gentle reconciliation. It was a thicket of thorns, a revenge born of unrequited longing.

Lu Xiang’s voice was soft. Back in their old love nest, the man’s half-obscured features seemed to soften with tenderness.

His dark eyes swept gently over the young man. “Jiang Jiang, watch some TV for a bit. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

Jiang Rang gave a faint hum and settled calmly onto the sofa. He picked up the remote and, once he noticed the man look away, swiftly pulled out his phone and texted Ji Mingyu.

“Don’t come looking for me the next couple days. Remember that.”

The phone showed the other side typing immediately, but after a wait, no message came. It went silent.

Jiang Rang set the phone down and didn’t glance at it again.

Lu Xiang cooked fast. Besides the few dishes he made fresh, he’d apparently prepped some others earlier that just needed a quick reheat to serve.

The man had shed his black hoodie, leaving him in a plain white short-sleeved T-shirt with a gray apron cinched around his waist.

Lu Xiang looked quite a bit thinner lately, but the arms on display were still powerfully built. The naturally prominent veins stood out, especially as he lifted two plates of food with some effort—those sleek lines bulging vividly with each breath and motion, radiating raw tension.

It took Jiang Rang a moment to snap out of it. He shifted his gaze away unnaturally, throat working.

The man had been watching the young man closely and covertly all along. They’d been intimate spouses, after all, living together for so long—Lu Xiang knew every one of Jiang Rang’s reactions inside out.

He dipped his head slightly, his excited pupils contracting. More white showed around the black irises, giving his eyes a freakishly odd cast.

But Jiang Rang couldn’t see it.

The oblivious youth was prompted to pick up his bowl and chopsticks before starting his meal.

The two sat facing each other across the table. There was no superfluous conversation throughout the entire meal.

During it all, Lu Xiang asked only one meaningful question.

“Jiang Jiang, do you like Ji Mingyu?”

Jiang Rang didn’t answer right away. He furrowed his brows slightly, avoiding the man’s gaze as he listlessly took a bite of the crisp, tender lettuce.

The oil made his lips glisten alluringly, so beautiful that one couldn’t help but want to savor them with gentle kisses and nibbles.

It was a long while before the youth lowered his eyes and said flatly, “I like him.”

He was clearly saying he liked him, yet his eyes wouldn’t meet Lu Xiang’s. Even his tone was as calm and still as stagnant water.

But Lu Xiang either failed to notice or had noticed but wouldn’t acknowledge it—not when jealousy was clouding his mind at that moment.

After the meal, Lu Xiang and Jiang Rang cleared the dishes together.

As the one who couldn’t cook, Jiang Rang occasionally helped the man with the washing. Perhaps sensing deep down that after today, their paths would diverge for good, the youth ultimately followed him into the kitchen.

The small room’s kitchen wasn’t spacious. Washing dishes side by side meant their bodies were bound to brush against each other.

Jiang Rang wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but ever since they’d finished eating, that fragrance he’d smelled earlier in the air had grown stronger again.

It was like the sudden bloom of balloon flowers, yet the scent no longer felt choking.

In fact, enveloped by its increasingly bold presence, the youth’s vision began to blur and haze over.

A nameless flame suddenly ignited in his chest.

Fierce, hazy, unbearably scorching—all his senses left him parched and weak-limbed.

In that instant, Jiang Rang felt as if he’d arrived in an endless desert. The glaring sunlight beat down on him mercilessly, leaving him unbearably hot.

He groped blindly for a water source but could never find it. After a long while, he couldn’t help but whimper pitifully, on the verge of tears.

In the hazy haze, like a dream world, Jiang Rang vaguely felt someone lift him up.

His back pressed against the cold tiles, while fervent kisses rained down on his front.

The stimulation brought tears to his eyes, his spine involuntarily curling.

The memories that followed were all a blur. At times, Jiang Rang felt like a raindrop dangling from the clouds, ready to fall; at others, like dough being kneaded at will; and again, like a child swaddled in loving nectar.

He sensed countless scorching, gloomy, hateful, resentful, and obsessive emotions, accompanied by punitive pain—not intense, but shamefully humiliating.

Even in his dazed state, the youth couldn’t help sobbing and begging for mercy.

In this intoxicating illusion like a pool of wine, Jiang Rang muddled through a full two days. Even his meals were fed to him one bite at a time.

On the final day, the man finally let him go.

Just before plunging into darkness, Jiang Rang faintly heard a hoarse, suppressed voice.

“Jiang Rang, I’ll give you time to run. Don’t let me catch you.”

The voice faded into the distance as the youth fully slipped into slumber.

~~~

The morning breeze drifted softly through the bay window into the chaotic, disheveled room, shyly caressing the youth on the bed, who was clad only in a long white cotton bath towel wrapped around his waist.

It dispelled all the lingering haze.

The beautiful youth, his body marked with intense hues of passion, slowly opened his stunning black eyes.

Bewildered tears trickled from the corners, as reason gradually gathered like stars plummeting into the Black Sea.

Jiang Rang stretched lazily, shifting his numb and aching body.

He was young, after all—especially Lu Xiang, whose physique and stamina were at their peak.

It wasn’t a bad deal.

Lu Xiang had always been rather traditional in bed. He lacked experience and was sometimes overly shy with Jiang Rang, letting the youth take the lead in everything.

Jiang Rang, bound by his established persona, couldn’t be too forward and mostly had to feign innocence himself, leaving things less than satisfying.

This time counted as exploring a thrilling new dynamic.

Rubbing the side of his waist, the youth glanced sideways at the deep red divorce certificate resting on the pillow. A meaningful smile slowly curved his lips.

Clearly, the plan had gone smoothly.

By the rules of the cooling-off period for divorce, Lu Xiang couldn’t possibly have obtained the certificate this quickly.

For the man to have it in just a day meant the Lu Family had pulled strings.

Of course. He was their sole heir, after all. Letting go for a year to temper his character was plenty.