Chapter 84 Your Roses Will Never Wither

Half an hour later, Lu Er slumped in the passenger seat, feeling listless. Thinking about leaving tomorrow, even the hotpot no longer seemed appetizing.

He stole a glance at Song Jingmo, who was focused on driving. The sharp lines of his profile were strikingly handsome, and Lu Er’s heart sank with reluctant longing.

“Song Jingmo…” Lu Er’s voice was muffled, “I’m leaving for Washington tomorrow. The next few months are probably going to be busy…”

Song Jingmo kept his eyes on the road and softly hummed an acknowledgment.

Lu Er felt even more aggrieved, like a little abandoned kitten, muttering quietly, “Will it be a long time…”

His tone made it sound as if he were being sent to the frontier.

The car was silent for a moment. Song Jingmo seemed to let out a silent sigh and slowed his voice slightly, speaking with reassurance:

“Work is important. If I have free time, I can come see you.”

It was like watering a drooping little plant. Lu Er instantly perked up, eyes sparkling as he looked at Song Jingmo: “Really? You’ll come see me?”

Growing bolder, he leaned closer: “Then… could you reply to my messages more often? Don’t just say ‘uh,’ ‘oh,’ or ‘busy,’ okay? I’ll miss you a lot…”

Song Jingmo’s softest spot was touched, and he compromised: “If I’m not busy, I’ll reply when I see them.”

“You’re the best!” Lu Er was so happy he almost bounced in his seat. If he hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt, he might have leapt forward to hug him.

They arrived at the upscale hotpot restaurant that Lu Er had carefully chosen—elegant and private.

However, as soon as they entered the main hall, Lu Er’s smile froze.

Lu Chen was walking toward them in a perfectly tailored designer suit, looking cold and stern. Luo Bingbing held his arm, graceful and composed.

Instinctively, Lu Er wanted to release Song Jingmo’s hand, but when his fingers twitched, he gripped even tighter.

Taking a deep breath, he walked up with Song Jingmo: “Big brother, sister-in-law.”

Lu Chen’s sharp eyes swept over Lu Er and Song Jingmo’s joined hands, his face instantly darkening.

With his usual authority: “What’s the meaning of this? Are you trying to turn the world upside down?”

Lu Er lifted his head, no longer dodging with his eyes. Instead, he held an unprecedented firmness with a subtle trace of grievance.

“Brother, I never dared to compete with you growing up, nor did I ever try to snatch anything. It seems like I’ve never been worthy of wanting something special.”

Meeting Lu Chen’s unyielding gaze, his voice carried accusation: “Now that I finally have someone I like, why do you have to take even this right away from me?”

“The Leng Group, the Lu Group—I never wanted those. But Song Jingmo, I must have him. No one can stop me.”

His words landed with weight. Not only were Lu Chen and Luo Bingbing stunned, even Song Jingmo’s body trembled ever so slightly.

Looking at Lu Er’s profile, his gaze was filled with shock and uncontrollable worry.

Luo Bingbing was the first to react, gently smoothing things over: “Alright, alright. A-Chen, Xiao Er is having dinner with a friend—don’t ruin it.”

She then gestured to Lu Er and Song Jingmo with her eyes: “Go ahead and eat. Don’t let this hold you back.”

Lu Er said nothing more, pulling Song Jingmo and turning away.

Once inside the private room, Lu Er’s prickly demeanor instantly melted, returning to his carefree, smiling little sun self.

He picked up the menu, excitedly ordering: “Fatty beef, shrimp paste, tripe, beef aorta—get everything!”

Watching him pretend to be relaxed, Song Jingmo felt a sharp pang of tenderness.

He knew that beneath Lu Er’s seemingly carefree exterior was a sensitive, neglected heart.

The hotpot arrived quickly, small copper pots bubbling, filling the air with aroma.

Lu Er dipped a slice of tender beef and naturally offered it to Song Jingmo, eyes shining: “Try it. Is it good?”

Song Jingmo’s hand froze briefly as he received the chopsticks.

Turning his head slightly, he whispered: “Put it in a bowl. I’ll do it myself.”

Lu Er’s hand holding the chopsticks hung in midair, his smile fading.

Without hesitation, he shoved the beef into his own mouth, and before Song Jingmo could react, he leaned forward and captured his lips precisely.

“Mm!” Song Jingmo’s eyes widened in shock.

With a stubborn force, Lu Er used his tongue to push open Song Jingmo’s slightly cool lips, delivering the slice of beef with its sauce aroma and warmth.

Finally, he added a strong, trembling kiss, infused with the scent of hotpot.

Lu Er pulled back slightly, breathing a bit fast, eyes reddening: “I already know about you being exposed.”

Song Jingmo’s body stiffened, looking up at Lu Er.

“You’ve been avoiding me, pushing me away. Is the reason you wouldn’t agree to be with me because of this?”

Song Jingmo remained silent, his thick lashes casting a small shadow over his eyelids.

After a long pause, he barely whispered: “Partly.”

Hearing the confirmation, Lu Er’s heart felt like it had been soaked in lemon juice—bitter and sour.

He thought of that social media post: roses will eventually wither.

It wasn’t just a sweet line—it was a hidden sigh, a worry about the uncertain future.

Lu Er’s heart ached, but his voice was gentle yet resolute: “Roses may wither, but it’s okay. I can give you a new bouquet every day.”

“This way, your roses will never wither.”