Fouls Prohibited

In the bedroom.

The door to the storage closet was wide open, and clutter was piled up on the floor.

Ye Ci squatted in front of the suitcase and stuffed a pair of sneakers wrapped in a plastic bag into the tight space.

According to the requirements, Ye Ci should cooperate with Huo Tinglan to complete the relevant civil affairs procedures within one week after the marriage agreement took effect and move into the Huo residence, in order to provide Huo Tinglan with pheromones at any time. The formalities were completed on the day the agreement was signed, but Ye Ci took a few days to move. Finally unable to delay any longer, during the morning meal, Chu Wenlin directly ordered the driver to return to the Chu residence at one o’clock in the afternoon to bring Ye Ci and his luggage to the Huo residence.

Ye Ci owned very few things. They accounted for less than half of the suitcase, but after Ye Hongjun’s old house was sold, there were a lot of old things cleared out, and he was reluctant to throw even one of them away.

The home where he lived with his mother for seventeen years was gone, and memories this junk carried were ones that he cherished.

When Ye Ci moved from the rental house to the Chu residence, Chu Wenlin’s wife, Ruan Jiayi, made a special trip to see him. She was a beautiful Omega who was so well maintained that her age couldn’t be guessed, and had a gentle demeanor. She stepped into the quagmire and gingerly lifted her skirt, tiptoeing through the gap between the luggage to keep her ankles from touching the things on both sides. She didn’t say anything nasty, just softly instructed Ye Ci to tell her if there was anything he was unaccustomed to concerning this lifestyle. After she finished speaking, her eyes swept across Ye Hongjun’s old clothes in the storage room, and she gently hooked her lips in confusion.

Genuine contempt was often not as bitter and acrimonious as in dog blood dramas. Some people would maintain the pretense of being well bred and leisurely, pretending it was accidental while crushing the dignity of others into the ground.

The nonwoven duffel bag he had used when he arrived was long ago thrown away by the servants as garbage. Ye Ci collected several sturdy cardboard boxes. He must take everything away, otherwise the remaining 80% would be swept away by the servants as garbage.

Three full cardboard boxes were packed by Ye Ci and moved to the door, but there was a lot of junk left in the house. Ye Ci stood in the middle of the messy bedroom and looked around. A deep sense of exhaustion seeped from his bones, filling his whole body.

He pulled over the chair and sat down to rest, and his eyes fell on the edge of the bed.

There were some unfolded clothes spread out there.

Among them was a beautiful camel coat, which Ye Ci bought two years ago during a sale promotion as a birthday present for Ye Hongjun.

It wasn’t name-brand, but it was still staggeringly expensive after the discount, and used up all the savings Ye Ci had collected from doing odd jobs. The cut of the coat was good, but it was also delicate. He was afraid of crushing it, afraid of breaking it. Ye Hongjun’s treasure was so precious, and she was careful every time she wore it. After Ye Ci took it out of the duffel bag last time, he regretted it. He had not treated it well.

Thinking of his mother, his eyes were sore and painful. Ye Ci took a deep breath and dared not let himself be weak.

Footsteps came from the door of the bedroom at this moment, but Ye Ci didn’t care. He was an invisible person in the Chu family. Servants passed by the door many times this morning, but no one came in to help or ask a question. When Chu Wenlin was not home, in order to please Ruan Jiayi, the servants tacitly didn’t even call him for dinner.

Unexpectedly, the door was gently knocked on twice. Ye Ci quickly turned his head, letting the corners of his eyes brush his shoulders as he turned to look.

It was Huo Tinglan standing outside the door.

He was wearing a graphite-colored shirt. The silk was supple, showing the outline of his pectoral muscles, and the cuffs were folded up flat. He was not wearing a watch, his posture ready to work.

Ye Ci refused to let others see through his vulnerability. Bracing himself, he looked at Huo Tinglan with a trace of water in his eyes, as cool as snow.

“I’m here to pick you up . . . . Your father wasn’t home, so I came up by myself.” Huo Tinglan’s gaze stopped on the corners of Ye Ci’s reddened eyes, seeing through something. But he didn’t ask, and moved on straightaway. 

This was a guest room, small in size with simple furniture. A folding study table stood beside a well-lit window, and the lacquered imitation bamboo wood grain looked old. Tucked in the corner of the wastebasket were two wrappers with “coconut bread” and “red bean bread” printed on them. The plastic sheets gleamed with a cheap, nutrient-deficient gloss.

. . . . No wonder he was so skinny.

Huo Tinglan’s Adam’s apple rolled slowly.

This was Ye Ci’s living environment when he was eighteen years old.

According to Huo Tinglan’s previous investigation, Ye Ci would have lived here for a long time until Ye Hongjun’s treatment failed and she passed away.

The tragic news of his mother’s death would completely overwhelm him. Chu Wenlin, who had successfully divided up the inheritance, would regard him as a burden and send Ye Ci, who was mentally broken at the time, to a Youth Behavioral Correction Center.

Ye Ci would be in a world without justice, and suffer torment for a long time. Many of his mental issues arose during that period.

Afterwards, he managed to escape from that place and cut off his father-son relationship with Chu Wenlin, driving in races at second-rate racetracks to make ends meet. At that time, he lived in a shabby rental house. Still obsessed with reading, he would insist on studying and attempting the adult college entrance examination, until the manager of the well-known team with a discerning eye signed him away . . . .

From the age of eighteen to twenty-two, the four years that Huo Tinglan was absent in his last life were not long.

But for Ye Ci, they were the loneliest and most painful four years of his life. The malice and devastation from his close relatives was enough to cover an entire lifetime in a haze.

Presently, the personal assistant was about to come in with a stack of empty sorting boxes. Huo Tinglan came back to his senses and subconsciously took a step to the side, blocking the assistant’s sight into the room. He turned around to take the empty boxes and motioned for his assistant to remove the packed boxes at the door.

“What can I do to help?” Huo Tinglan asked.

Ye Ci, who had wholeheartedly put on a cold face, was stunned when he heard those words and refused the help reflexively: “Nothing.”

Huo Tinglan was silent for a while, looked at the storage closet, and confirmed: “You’re taking all of it?”

“. . . . Right.” Ye Ci was so embarrassed that he could choke. He smoothed his tongue with difficulty and spoke well, “I’ll pack it myself.”

Huo Tinglan looked at him for a moment, stopped talking, and started to separate the boxes into stacks. Crouching down and packing things one by one, his behavior was proper and natural, as if he should have done these things for Ye Ci in the first place.

A lot of these relics had great commemorative significance: photos of mother and son, various learning awards from Ye Ci’s Elementary and Junior High schools, Ye Hongjun’s handwritten parenting diary . . . . Throughout five years of marriage in his past life, Huo Tinglan had never seen a single one of them, and didn’t know where they had all gone. He pulled a silk handkerchief from his shirt pocket, wiping a light coat of dust from a wooden picture frame. There was a sort of forbearance and love in the gesture.

Ye Ci’s eyes burned when he saw him cleaning things. Inexplicably blushing from embarrassment, he felt that something wasn’t right and could figure it out, so he was silent for a while.

He hesitated for a while, then dragged an empty box to the base of the wall diagonal to Huo Tinglan. Using this as a stronghold, he began to pack up swiftly. He hadn’t been packing for long when Huo Tinglan’s low voice sounded above his head: “This kind of coat can’t be folded like this.”

Two straight trouser legs stopped in front of him, and Ye Ci was startled. Ye Honjun’s most precious coat had been taken by Huo Tinglan. Long, steady fingers brushed the folds, straightened the laces and buckles, and then hung it on a hanger and put it in a clothing bag. When he was finished, Huo Tinglan handed the clothing bag to the assistant and instructed him to carry it downstairs.

While Huo Tinglan was meticulously tidying up the coat, Ye Ci stood far away, carefully watching him out of the corner of his eyes as he packed.

If you hadn’t been treated kindly in a long time, it would feel unfamiliar, or even strange.

Besides . . . . the kindness itself was a bit odd.

During this time, the housekeeper, Uncle Tong, sent people to assist – no matter the etiquette of other people, allowing guests to work would be a joke. 

But Huo Tinglan just threw out the words, “We won’t bother you guys.” After speaking, he didn’t send them away, but continued to pack up in a condescending manner, as if putting on a show. The handful of servants and Uncle Tong dared not insist, let alone just leave. They were left hanging in the second floor corridor by Huo Tinglan, as if they were in a penalty box.

After being given the cold shoulder for a while, they really couldn’t bear the constant heavy pressure of an A+ grade alpha. With fine sweat hanging on their foreheads, they retreated in shame.

The two people and the assistant were busy until twelve o’clock, and everything was moved.

Ye Ci threw his school bag over his right shoulder and went downstairs behind Huo Tinglan. He glanced at the man’s tall, straight figure in front of him, and the conflicted expression on his face intensified.

Huo Tinglan had made a special trip to pick him up. So meticulous, busy as a bee . . . .

If nothing else, he should be thankful.

This was the most basic courtesy.

He came from a poor background, but his upbringing was no worse than that of the young ladies and young masters of the upper class. Ye Hongjun had a demure temperament and was knowledgeable about etiquette. If she hadn’t been screwed over by Chu Wenlin, she wouldn’t have been reduced to living in a slum that was incompatible with her whole personality.

The fist concealed in the sleeve of his school uniform clenched and unclenched loosely. After hesitating a few times, Ye Ci bit the bullet and ran a few steps to catch up with Huo Tinglan. As soon as he got close, his nose immediately caught the scorching scent of tequila. Before he could speak, his cheeks stung with heat.

“What is it?” Huo Tinglan stopped and turned to look at him.

“Today . . . .” Ye Ci licked his lower lip, not sure how to adjust his fluctuating expression. “Thank, thank you[1].”

Huo Tinglan was too imposing. Coupled with the leaked Alpha pheromones, there was a strong sense of oppression when he looked at someone. This caused Ye Ci to perform worse than usual, and he stuttered for three words in the second half of the sentence.

Disgraceful!

Ye Ci wanted to stretch out his tongue and iron it.

He didn’t want to open his mouth in front of Huo Tinglan for the next year . . . .

Huo Tinglan lowered his eyes to look at Ye Ci’s annoyed face, and the corners of his lips curved slightly. He seemed to be of a mind to tease him, but after a moment of silence, he said in a normal manner, “You’re welcome.”

Perhaps having considered that coexisting in a narrow space might make Ye Ci nervous, Huo Tinglan offered to take two cars with Ye Ci, and the two arrived at the Huo residence one after another.

Ye Ci had hesitated for a while when he got into the car, reluctant to share the ride with the A+ grade Alpha and his strong, intrusive pheromones, but facts proved that his worry was unnecessary. Huo Tinglan remained a considerate gentleman. Every detail made one comfortable, and it seemed that he did not intend to do anything to Ye Ci by relying on their legal marriage relationship.

He was thinking too much . . . .

Mr. Huo wasn’t that bad.

Ye Ci held his school bag, lowering his head as he twisted the strap in embarrassment, and rubbed his fingers red.

[1] He uses the formal ‘you’ here, 您 ⮐