Chapter 3: The Love Fraudster
1354 Words
Under Li Zhili’s shocked stare and Fu Wang’s impressed look, Lin Shenting pulled Song Xiaoyuan out of the bar.
The night was deep and quiet. From the moment they stepped outside to the moment they reached the glass doors of the lobby, it was just the two of them walking side by side.
Song kept his eyes on Lin’s back.
His gaze traced from the man’s ankles, up the fitted gray jeans, to the narrow waist, and finally to those wide shoulders that even a leather jacket couldn’t hide.
Lin was half a head taller than him, all long legs and calm, broad-shouldered steadiness.
His face matched the rest—handsome, open, trustworthy. The kind that made people soften without realizing it.
From what he’d done earlier, even if he wasn’t gay, he was definitely bi.
A bi man who clearly couldn’t help himself, Song thought.
Song had originally planned to get close to Lin through the bar owner.
But now it seemed Lin had noticed him long before tonight.
They had been circling each other the whole time—Lin openly, Song from the shadows.
Song had decided to seduce Lin the moment he saw him.
What he hadn’t known was that Lin might have been thinking the very same thing.
Well. It wasn’t too late to find out.
With that face and that body, he wouldn’t be losing anything.
If Lin knew how to play, they might end up in bed tonight.
Stay together for a little while, split cleanly, move on to the next thrill.
Song’s gaze burned hotter. Excitement and irritation tangled uncontrollably inside him.
Then Lin’s voice cut in, calm and sudden.
“What are you thinking about?”
“I—”
The interruption soured his mood, but Song hid it well. He lowered his voice, sounding hesitant.
“I’m thinking about how I’m supposed to deal with my ex later…”
He didn’t finish.
They reached the lobby doors. Song slowed, lowered his head, a small frown creasing between his brows—as if frightened.
Anyone else would’ve stopped to comfort him.
But Lin didn’t even turn around.
Song’s eyes darkened. He drew breath to speak again, but Lin simply strode ahead and pushed the door open.
A blast of cold night wind rushed in, hitting Song straight in the face.
His eyes were sensitive; he immediately lowered his head and pressed a hand over them.
How does he not get my hint?
Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, anger flaring.
In the few seconds he bent his head, a hand closed around his wrist.
Lin pulled him outside, bent down, and asked softly,
“What happened?”
Song said nothing, still covering his eyes.
Lin, flustered, pulled away his hand—only to freeze when he saw the wet eyelashes and reddened nose.
He stopped moving.
Song, eyes shut, felt the last of the discomfort fade and sighed inwardly.
Did I fall for a goddamn block of wood?
But then warm breath brushed his eyelids.
Lin leaned in and blew gently.
His voice was low, a little blurred by the wind.
“Are you really that scared of seeing him? Scared enough to cry?”
Song didn’t answer.
He opened his eyes, tears shimmering.
Lin frowned and wiped them away with warm, rough fingers.
“No matter what, you’ll have to face him,” Lin said quietly.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m here this time.”
Song blinked at the warmth on his skin.
The tears didn’t fall—they simply faded with each blink, the discomfort in his eyes easing under Lin’s touch.
He swallowed the tears back and gave Lin a small smile.
Lin let go of his wrist and wrapped his arms around him.
Song leaned into the man’s collarbone, breathing in a faint trace of tobacco.
It smelled good.
Good enough that his calculating mind went blank for a moment.
He didn’t notice that above him, Lin’s eyes held no emotion at all.
Despite the tender gesture, he looked like a man carrying out a programmed task—silent, calm, detached.
Then Lin noticed someone stepping out of a nearby car—a man staring at them with a twisted expression.
Lin immediately knew who he was.
But instead of pulling away, he held Song closer and raised an eyebrow provocatively.
He let go of Song’s shoulder and leaned down as if to kiss his cheek—
“WHAT the hell are you doing!”
The shout cracked through the night.
Song’s shoulders shook instantly.
The man slammed the car door, storming toward them with a finger pointed at Lin.
Song tugged Lin’s arm. “That’s my ex,” he whispered.
He pulled Lin back. Facing Fang Haoyu was part of the plan—but the least important part.
He wanted this done quickly.
There were more important things tonight.
The man nearly spat fire from his eyes.
He stopped a few steps away, leaning to look past Lin—
and the moment he saw Song, all that fury melted into trembling gentleness.
“Xiaoyuan,” he coaxed, voice unbearably soft,
“come home with me, okay?”
“I know I was wrong. It’s all my fault.”
He edged closer.
“I’ve cut him off. Completely. I only love you. Don’t be mad. Come home, alright?”
Lin didn’t look at him.
He looked calmly at Song instead, squeezing his hand—encouraging him.
Song swallowed his original lines.
He changed tactics.
He took a deep breath, pretended to gather courage, and shouted,
“We’ve already broken up! And—”
He tightened his grip on Lin’s hand.
Lin didn’t pull away.
Song’s eyes lit slightly.
“I already have a boyfriend!”
Fang Haoyu trembled with rage, barely holding himself together.
“Xiaoyuan, don’t throw a tantrum. Feelings don’t change that fast. Come home.”
He lunged forward to grab him.
But Lin shoved Song behind him, seized Fang’s arm, and flung him aside violently.
Caught off guard, Fang staggered several steps before barely catching himself on a street pole.
Song watched quietly behind Lin, then—unable to resist—turned away and laughed.
Lin stared coldly at the disheveled man.
“Feelings change fast. Aren’t you the best example?”
Fang gaped at him, pointing at Lin’s nose.
“And who the hell are YOU to butt into my relationship with Song Xiaoyuan?!”
Lin let out a sharp laugh. He was about to speak—
—but Song tugged his hand again, signaling enough.
Time to end the scene.
It seemed Lin really cared about him, Song thought.
Holding Lin’s hand, he walked up to Fang.
Fang straightened, staring at him with desperate hope.
“Fang Haoyu,” Song said,
“stop pestering me. Your parents don’t know you’re gay. Don’t push me.”
Fang went pale.
“If you still want your carefree life, you’d better keep it that way.”
He didn’t look at the stunned man again.
He pulled Lin with him, walking the other way.
“Where’s your motorcycle? Take me there.”
Lin smiled, excitement lighting his voice.
“Right ahead. Xiaoyuan, you did great today.”
Song almost laughed.
“Let’s just go.”
They reached the motorcycle.
Before Lin could finish putting the helmet on him—
Fang suddenly charged forward and roared,
“SONG XIAOYUAN! How many people are you planning to scam with your seamless switching?! You f*****g SLUT!”
His voice shook with fury.
“Liar! You’ve hated me all along—you were just waiting here for me to show up!”
Song’s pupils shrank.
He looked up at Lin.
Lin didn’t react.
He simply fastened the helmet strap with patient care, like he hadn’t heard anything.
He put on his own helmet.
Maybe the helmet really blocked the sound—Song told himself silently.
Lin patted his waist, signaling him to get on.
Song obeyed, wrapping his arms around Lin’s waist.
The motorcycle roared past Fang Haoyu.
Song glanced once at the man still glaring at him—
and never looked back.
- Writer
