There's Something Not Quite Right With My Lover - c5-c6
☘ Chapter 5
Of course an illness won’t hold back – in the end, I can only call up my good friend’s fiancée’s younger brother’s classmate – a doctor of a clinic…oh, let’s just call him “Doc” for now.
Doc1 calmly and collectedly takes my temperature for me, glances at the Mr. Model acting as my backrest and then solemnly says, “Mr. Chen, my fees for house calls in the middle of the night are quite high – but, you being a President, you’ve a lot of money, so thus, I’m not giving you a discount. And so, as even brothers need to keep clear accounts2, let’s just handle this like brothers would.”
I swear I see the bright sheen of gold sparkling in the eyes on this baby face………..
If my Mr. Model’s also this easy to figure out, won’t that be good.
“Discount,” I callously reply.
Doc looks like he finds it hard to accept my decision – but yeah, of all the matters that involve money, most of them are cruel.
“But….but….but you’re a President…Presidents aren’t supposed to ask for a discount,” Doc looks like he wants to cry but yet the tears just won’t come out3.
I ponder for a bit, then very seriously tell him, “When it should be spent, it’ll be spent.”
Doc suddenly loses his energy. If it isn’t that right behind me is the strong-looking, healthy-bodied Mr. Model, I believe he’d abandon a miserly patient like me and just go crying his way back home.
To be honest though, as he did give me an IV, he is indeed about to go home crying.
As I watch him stagger and stumble away, I again realize: so it turns out money is indeed the sharpest weapon to hurt someone!
Now that Doc has left, only Mr. Model is here with me now.
Mr. Model’s face is dark and heavy; he doesn’t seem particularly happy, he also doesn’t kiss, doesn’t hug and doesn’t say a word.
I suspect that me being too direct in rejecting him just before must’ve hurt him – this is indeed terrible.
I ought to appease him a bit – is what my morals of a Golden Backer is telling me to do.
And so, I pat his hand and tell him, “I’ll buy you a car tomorrow.”
If it’d been the Doc from just before who heard this line, he’d most certainly be happy to the point of flying. But Mr. Model seems to be more noble-minded; he gives me one deep, profound glance, his mood very icy and very calm.
Then he stands up, just as if he’s preparing to leave.
Not understanding where he’s going, I subconsciously reach out and tug him still.
Mr. Model turns around. But he still just looks at me – silent, without a word.
I think he’s a bit scary. When he’s like this and doesn’t talk, he looks much colder than how I looked when I saw the poster. I admit that right now, I am a little bit panicked. Even my heartbeat is speeding up.
I’ve got to coax him. If not, then he’ll continue not talking to me and I’ll just continue feeling that odd discomfort in my heart.
But my mouth opens and out comes: “You are to stay.”
“And then, you’ll buy a house for me?” Mr. Model asks.
“You want a house?” I reply, “Sure, I’ll get you a house.”
Mr. Model sighs, seemingly still not very happy, but he again sits down and wraps himself around me – just like always.
I’m accrediting this transformation all to the house.
I now believe that Mr. Model’s intense desires may only just be money.
That’s also good; if so, then I can be at peace and at ease in raising him.
☘ Chapter 6
It’s hard being sick.
Mr. Model’s body seems like it’s been taken over by an alien. But although he still likes to kiss me after getting up in the morning and before bed at night and also when we’re watching movies during the afternoon naps – he has become difficult to talk to.
First of all, he won’t let me work. I ain’t allowed to even hold a web conference. I’m simply about to go nuts. Why can’t he understand that if I don’t earn money, he won’t get his house?
And next of all, he won’t let me snack.
I really like to eat snacks – potato chips, French fries, chicken wings and cookies are all my daily must-haves. Normally, it’s only at home where I can gorge without a care – but right now, that right has also been stripped away.
If even this can be endured, then what can’t be endured4 – I too am now angry.
“Cookies.” I stare at the strawberry-flavored Winne-the-Pooh cookies in Mr. Model’s hands, unable to move my gaze.
Mr. Model raises a brow, “Can’t.”
I’m! Just! Sooooo! Pissed!
But I can’t lose my temper! Because Mr. Model has been real gutsy as of late – he even loses his temper at me! And when he gets angry, only a house can be used as a bribe! Yes, I am a President with a lot of money! But I am also a very rational-minded President! I can’t increase unnecessary expenditures just like that! Not only that, but I’m also afraid that in the end, even a house won’t be able to calm Mr. Model down!
I think I’m the Golden Backer with the most grievances in the world!
I don’t even want to pay attention to Mr. Model anymore. I just really want to shove that bag of cookies into his mouth – lest he continue holding back my snacks and making me upset.
I’m upset when he says something.
I’m even more upset when he doesn’t say anything.
And right now, I’m just really, very upset.
Feeling somewhat down, I return to my bedroom to read my book on financial management.
I’m not angry.
I’m not upset.
I’ve got money.
I repeat these three lines in my heart, over and over and over again.
But I still don’t feel better; I really want to vent my frustrations by jumping on the bed.
I hurriedly take this chance to pull out the mirror I always have on me and glance at it – no prob at all, my face still looks very serious.
I tuck the mirror away and continue being unhappy.
Mr. Model walks in. He’s still holding my cookies in his hands and – with his face all calm – he pulls away the blankets and sits down on the bed. He even turns the TV on to watch – and it’s even the shopping channel I hate the most.
My entire face turns entirely cold.
He’s too much!
He’s too, too, too much!
I’ve decided, if he makes me angrier by even a bit more – I’m going to fire him, make him put down my snacks and leave my house.
“An’an, come here,” Mr. Model waves a hand at me.
I dun wanna.
“Come and you can have the cookies,” Mr. Model adds.
I look at the cookies. It’s the one brought last week and the only one of its kind left, especially as all the nearby supermarkets have closed for the New Year’s.
I reluctantly, resentfully walk over.
Mr. Model immediately pulls me under the blankets.
“Don’t stand next to the window when you’re sick, ‘mkay?” He again wraps himself around me, just like an octopus.
I had originally wanted to treat him coldly, but his voice is really just too nice on the ears, especially that “mkay” – just too sexy.
Mr. Model tears the package open as he tells me, “You have to hurry and get better; I want you, really badly.”
I eat the cookies with a severe and stern expression.
Now this every minute, every second, always in heat, thick-skinned, without an ounce of shame person is the Mr. Model that I have been keeping.
- the word “Doctor” here is just like “Mr. Model”; it’s also used as a name; but it’s hard to just leave out the “the” in front of “doctor”….so this translator shortened it to “Doc” to make it seem more like a name. (I’ve thought rly rly hard about this….but still might edit this later QAQ )
- 亲兄弟明 idiom; even brothers need to keep track of accounts/money when lending/paying the other (only the next part is in the raws, the previous part is added by yours truly to explain it)
- 欲哭無淚 idiom; wants to cry yet the tears can’t come out; metaphor for something extremely sad
- more bluntly put –> “I can’t endure this”/”this is more than I can bear” -> and so…