Don't You Have Wives of Your Own?

[Announcement: This story will go premium starting from Chapter 72 on July 8. Mahua Jing bows!] Regret-and-chase romance, tight-lipped, aloof top x soft, adorable bottom The cover was commissioned for the bottom. For the high-resolution image and other commissions, see @A_Wan_Mahua_Jing-v- Blurb: Everyone said Rong Mian was incredibly lucky. He had been adopted by the Yan family of the capital as a child and got to stay by the side of their eldest son, Yan Baichuan. On paper, he was an adopted son. In practice, he was being raised to be a bride. Everyone told him to be gentle and virtuous, obedient and well-behaved. Rong Mian studied hard, determined to become the perfect spouse, exclusively for Yan Baichuan. Until the day he imitated an influencer, wearing nothing but an apron and kneeling by the door to wait for Yan Baichuan to come home from work. Before he could even finish saying, “Honey, you’ve worked hard,” a coat was thrown over him, covering him from head to toe. “Rong Mian, are you really that desperate?” He looked up in confusion, his grip tightening on the man’s clothes, his eyes reddening. Yan Baichuan pinched his pointed chin and looked down at him. “Did you really think this would make me marry you?” · Countless people in the capital envied Rong Mian for being at Yan Baichuan’s side. They’d spent ten years trying and failing to get Rong Mian out of the way. Then Rong Mian left of his own accord and entered the entertainment industry. When a friend asked, Yan Baichuan said casually, “A canary locked in a cage can’t fly far. He’ll come back sooner or later.” But that summer, Rong Mian became an overnight sensation. Even concert tickets were impossible to get. All sorts of handsome guys in the group surrounded Rong Mian. Fans happily shipped their favorite pairings online, eagerly creating content. Even Yan Baichuan’s friend came to ask him, “Rong Mian isn’t yours anymore, right? Let’s compete fairly.” · Yan Baichuan waited until just before the show began before deigning to go take a look, only to find that all the complimentary tickets had already been given away. For the first time in his life, Yan Baichuan squeezed in among thousands of spectators. Under the spotlights, the young man’s beautiful features shimmered like starlight, and Yan Baichuan’s heart pounded like a drum. Hearing the entire crowd scream “Wife!”, Yan Baichuan’s face darkened. Why are you calling my wife your wife? Don’t you have wives of your own?! · Rong Mian’s longtime fans all knew he had a wealthy superfan who had followed him from his idol days right up to the present, never missing an in-person event and spending a fortune on him. Back in his idol days, Yan Baichuan pinned Rong Mian against the wall, his voice hoarse. “It’s just marriage. I can do it.” Rong Mian spoke gently and apologetically, sounding perfectly polite and official, with not a single fault to find. “Sorry, sir, idols aren’t allowed to date.” · Later, when Rong Mian won Best Supporting Actor, Yan Baichuan followed behind him, asking cautiously, “Baby, when can we make it public?” Rong Mian smiled brightly and gently patted Yan Baichuan’s face twice. “If you’d said that to me back then…” The rest of his sentence disappeared into the darkness. Rong Mian stood up and gently pushed Yan Baichuan’s hand away. “Mr. Yan, you don’t really think your secret lover can get promoted to official status now, do you?” ✩ ˚₊ ✩ ˚₊ ✩ ˚₊ ✩ ˚₊ ✩ ˚₊ ✩ ˚₊ ✩ ˚₊ ✩ ˚₊ ✩ ˚₊ ✩ ˚₊ ✩ Coming soon: How to Marry a Rich, Pretty, High-Maintenance International Student. A little sweet romance in my usual style! Zhou Jiachu got into a top university in New York. As a reward, his family gave him a place at Penn House in Manhattan and a Maserati. He waved goodbye to his parents without a backward glance: Times Square, Fifth Avenue, Central Park, Wall Street, here I come! But after he arrived, Manhattan turned out to be permanently gridlocked. The subway smelled of urine and weed, the summers were stuffy, and the winters brought blizzards. After taking the subway just once, Zhou Jiachu fell ill. That was when he came across a post: “Flushing grocery delivery, drop-off along subway lines.” He paid the $100 delivery fee without hesitation and ordered suan cai pork soup and a box of desserts. Half an hour later, the delivery guy knocked on his door, looking like a godsend. And that wasn’t even mentioning that he was six-foot-one, with thin lips, a high nose, thick brows, and bright eyes. * Before long, Cheng Yan had become the person Zhou Jiachu saw more often than his teaching assistant. Zhou Jiachu was a picky eater, and now someone remembered his dietary preferences. Every day, he woke to a full Chinese breakfast, and during deadlines, he was constantly supplied with little cakes and milk tea. Zhou Jiachu didn’t dare drive and didn’t want to squeeze onto the subway, so Cheng Yan willingly became his driver. The car was always kept at Zhou Jiachu’s preferred temperature and filled with his favorite fragrance. Before he knew it, Cheng Yan had the passcodes to all of Zhou Jiachu’s homes, the keys to all his cars, and the details of all his credit cards. Meanwhile, Zhou Jiachu was so delighted that his quality of life had returned to normal that he didn’t think anything was amiss. Until one morning, Cheng Yan caught him in the middle of his morning… business. The man hesitated, then slowly moved closer. “Baby, I can offer other services too… Want to try them?” * Everyone said Cheng, the CEO of Jiayan Capital, was a legend. Rumor had it he was the bastard son of a streetwalker, but in just a few years, he had climbed from the bottom to the top of the pyramid. After making his fortune, Cheng Yan agreed for the first time to go home with Zhou Jiachu. Zhou Jiachu took his hand and chattered excitedly, “Daddy, I told you he wasn’t some poor guy!” Zhou’s father looked at his precious son, who had brought home a man with dyed blond hair, at a loss for words. “Jiajia, you’ve known each other for less than three years…” “More than three years.” Cheng Yan smiled softly. Even Zhou Jiachu looked up at him in surprise. Cheng Yan squeezed Zhou Jiachu’s hand in return. “I’ve known Xiao Chu for fifteen years.” Ever since their brief encounter all those years ago, his life had been about one thing: climbing higher until he was worthy of standing by Zhou Jiachu’s side. Theme: Only by standing on your own feet can you find love