Chapter 55 – Lin Daiyu Crybaby

After returning from Australia, the atmosphere between Chu Yin and Wei Lai became somewhat strange.

Wei Lai still lived at Chu Yin’s place. He would prepare breakfast for Chu Yin in the morning, then take Orunju out for a walk while buying groceries. He’d come back at noon to cook, chatting about this and that with Chu Yin over meals. After washing the dishes, he’d go out to play mahjong. Dinner was usually handled by Chu Yin himself because Wei Lai always came home so late that Chu Yin would already be asleep by then.

On the surface, everything seemed no different from usual, but Chu Yin just felt like Wei Lai was avoiding him—and it made him miserable.

Originally, Chu Yin had only agreed to let Wei Lai be his temporary manager out of necessity for the show, just as a stopgap measure. But if he had known that he would unwittingly fall for Wei Lai, while Wei Lai didn’t feel the same way, Chu Yin would have rather paid a hefty breach penalty than have any contact with Wei Lai at all.

But there was no “if.” He liked Wei Lai, but Wei Lai only pitied him, helping him out of sisterly camaraderie.

Now that everything was over, Wei Lai had accomplished his mission and was already in the process of arranging a new manager for him.

Love was a bitter drink—once tasted, it would intoxicate you. Chu Yin had suffered enough. After Chen Meixian, he thought he’d never have the energy to like someone again, but Wei Lai shattered that belief.

Turns out, whether he liked someone or not wasn’t up to him. Even if he said, “I don’t like him,” his heartbeat would betray his words. Even if he couldn’t see Wei Lai, just thinking about him in his mind would make his heart scream wildly: I want him. I want him, I want him!

Though he had already secretly cried many times, when Chu Yin thought of Wei Lai while writing songs, sorrow welled up in him again. Sitting on the ladder with his guitar, tears fell freely. For the first time in his life, he resonated with Lin Daiyu, suspecting that in his past life, he had been a little sapling raised by Wei Lai. In this life, he had to repay the water Wei Lai had given him with tears before he could be free.

Wei Lai, having finished grocery shopping, froze at the entrance before even stepping into the living room.

At some point, a stylish ladder had appeared in the living room—not tall, just five or six steps high, about the same height as the luxurious cat tree in the corner. Chu Yin sat at the very top, long legs dangling, hugging a guitar as he looked at Wei Lai with teary eyes. But his tone was the complete opposite of his expression: “Hmph! So you do remember to come back!”

Wei Lai’s lips twitched. “What are you doing? That ladder was perfectly fine on the balcony in the study. Moving it here and squatting at the entrance makes you look like a door god!”

Like Orunju, Chu Yin loved high places. Even on the balcony, he’d instinctively lean against the windowsill. Worried he might fall, Wei Lai had specially ordered a “Crybaby Perch” modeled after a cat tree to accommodate Chu Yin’s endlessly restless long legs.

Chu Yin looked down at Wei Lai from his perch. “This is my house. I’ll be wherever I want.”

Big Orange leaped onto the cat tree, tucking its paws in as its amber almond eyes gazed at Wei Lai, letting out a sweet meow.

Wei Lai was already used to Chu Yin’s daily baffling behavior. “How’s your songwriting going?”

Chu Yin: “Hmph. None of your business.”

Wei Lai pulled out a fruit knife to peel an apple. He was quite skilled at it—his fair fingers held the bright red apple as the gleaming blade made crisp, pleasant sounds while peeling. By the end, he could peel off one long, unbroken strip of apple skin, like a little red ribbon.

Wei Lai lifted the apple as if making an offering. “Here, Door God Crybaby, have an apple.”

Chu Yin: “Hmph. I don’t want it.”

“Oh.” Wei Lai lowered his hand and took a crisp bite. “Every bite of an apple makes me feel prettier. You should eat more fruit too. You’ve got promotional events coming up in a few days—that period drama you filmed with Yao Chaowu, remember?”

Chu Yin: “…Aren’t you not my manager anymore? Why do you still care so much?”

Wei Lai fell silent for a moment, his expression complicated. “At least for now, I still am.”

Chu Yin plucked a few guitar strings, matching the passionate background music as he declared, “Lord Madam Wei, you have no heart.”