Quick Transmigration: Yandere Male Leads? Hand 'Em Over! - Chapter 86

The man’s voice was low and magnetic, with a slight grainy edge that crackled like static—Bo Qi’an’s sudden boldness caught Su Ci off guard. She still wasn’t used to her shy husband letting loose like this.

Was he… hinting at his, um, “size”?

“Okay,” Su Ci paused, then added, “Will you be home tonight to try them on?”

If Bo Qi’an wasn’t coming back, she’d just have the store deliver everything to his office.

On the other end of the call, Bo Qi’an shot to his feet, accidentally kicking over his executive chair. A flush spread across his cheeks, and even his ears and neck turned red.

Try it on… in front of his wife?

If his wife invited him home to try things on—what reason could he possibly have to refuse?!

But still… she had just spent the whole day shopping with Lu Jinyan. Would going straight home to her feel too shameless?

What if she was planning to compare the items—one set for him, one set for Lu Jinyan?

Fine! Let her compare all she wants. There’s no way I’m not going home tonight!

“Yeah, I’ll come home tonight. Honey… do you think you could…”

“What?”

Bo Qi’an took a deep breath.
“Could you ask Lu Jinyan not to stay over tonight? He’s an outsider in our home—it just feels… inappropriate. It makes it hard for me to come back.”

This was a matter of stealing his wife. An unforgivable offense.

They were supposed to be brothers, sure, but he’d already blocked Lu Jinyan’s number and deleted all contact info. As far as he was concerned, that man no longer existed.

Bo Qi’an was deeply conflicted. For once in his life, he was the one fighting to keep something precious—his wife. Everything else had always been taken from him without resistance. But not this.

He could accept that she still had lingering feelings for her ex-fiancé, but he absolutely refused to let Lu Jinyan stay in their master bedroom and “perform” under his roof.

If he wasn’t home, he could pretend not to care.

But if he was home, then his wife would only be sleeping with him.

As for what he owed Lu Jinyan or the Lu family—as long as they didn’t overstep or try to fight for what was his, he was willing to compensate them with enough wealth and privilege to last a lifetime.

Su Ci had never heard of this idea where the guest staying over makes the host husband feel too awkward to return home. Lu Jinyan had only brought it up because Bo Qi’an’s villa was close to the Su family estate.

Since the engagement banquet with Su Tao hadn’t been held yet, it didn’t feel appropriate for him to move directly into the Su household.

“Sure, I’ll tell him not to come by so often. Honey, come home early tonight, okay? I’ve been craving those lychees you peel for me.”

Meanwhile, Lu Jinyan was still strutting around like a peacock, completely unaware that his Bo-ge had just stripped him of friend status.

After hanging up, Bo Qi’an stared at his phone screen and grinned for a full five minutes—not the usual restrained smile, but a wild, smug, uncontrollable laugh.

So it worked.

His plan had worked.

Even if his wife only wanted him for his body, she still said that word—that special, one-of-a-kind word.

Husband.

He was so happy he could fly.

So back at the birthday banquet, she must’ve known he was the one peeling lychees in disguise. Maybe she’d already been drawn to his face then—that would explain why she remembered it so clearly.

Bo Qi’an couldn’t sit still. He grabbed his coat and left the office, heading straight to the fruit store, where he bought an entire crate of lychees in every variety.

Before his wife got back from shopping, he meticulously peeled every single one. That way, she’d have her pick of whatever she wanted.

The highly paid maids noticed the massive box and hurried over with scissors and tools to help trim the branches.

But Bo Qi’an frowned.

“Leave it. My wife only wants the ones I peel myself. Yours are useless.”

The maids looked devastated.
Why didn’t Madam like the ones they peeled? Were their hands not as nice to look at as Sir’s?

At 8 PM, the shopping trip ended.

Lu Jinyan drove Su Ci back to the villa. Sure, he wanted to be respectful to his future sister-in-law, but more importantly, her attitude would determine how soon he could marry Su Tao.

Bo Qi’an had been waiting at the gate for two hours, his coat slung casually over one arm. As soon as the car pulled up, he strode forward, opened the door for her, and blocked the doorframe with one hand to keep her from bumping into it.

The servants took the bags from the trunk.

Bo Qi’an slipped an arm around her waist, draped his coat over her thin shoulders, and kept a cool, blank expression—though the tips of his ears were clearly flushed red.

Lu Jinyan stuck his head out the car window and grumbled, “Bo-ge, how could you! You carry your wife like treasure but leave your poor brother out in the cold! Cruel!”

He was referring, of course, to being denied a place to stay.

Back when Bo Qi’an went abroad, Lu could crash at this villa whenever he wanted. Tsk. Married men were terrifying.

Bo Qi’an: “…?”

What, you want me to share my wife with you, too?

Lu Jinyan, how thick is your skin?

“Butler Wu. See him out.”

With that cold and ruthless command, Bo Qi’an led his wife into the house, every step exuding the victorious swagger of a favored consort fresh off a battlefield win.

So what if he was just the current husband? So what if the ex-fiancé was her first love?

He was the one with the marriage certificate.

And soon, the one she would personally acknowledge as her husband.

Bo Qi’an led Su Ci to the sofa and gestured at the coffee table.

“I peeled all of these myself. Which kind would you like to try first, my dear?”

“I just picked up a few on the way back. We’ve got Hanging Green, Ice Lychee, Immortal Peach, Guanyin Green, Consort’s Smile, Osmanthus, Glutinous Rice Lychee, Seedless…”

Before he could finish, a plump, juicy lychee was stuffed into his mouth. Sweet, refreshing juice burst onto his tongue.

Bo Qi’an froze, biting down instinctively. Juice he hadn’t yet swallowed dribbled from the corner of his lips.

When he came back to his senses, he was flustered.

“Was I talking too much?” he asked nervously.

“No, I just thought you were cute.” Su Ci pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket and gently wiped the juice from his chin, her eyes soft and calm.

The delicate cloth became translucent when damp, clinging to her slender fingertips. Bo Qi’an couldn’t look away—his gaze darkened, deep and intense.

He swallowed hard. Adam’s apple bobbing.

There’s no such thing as a “cute man.”
They were all terrible.
Especially him.
He was the worst of them all.

The maids came in carrying bags of new clothes and asked where to put them.

Su Ci tilted her chin. “Take them upstairs to the master bedroom.”

Bo Qi’an caught a glimpse of a familiar men’s underwear brand logo and froze. His pupils shrank. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the fruit plate, and his breath came faster.

She bought… that much for him?

And that brand? It was rumored to specialize in… intimate designs for men.

Bo Qi’an couldn’t stop thinking about what might happen later.

When it came time to go upstairs, he was so distracted that he walked with matching arms and legs—and almost tripped going up the stairs.

“Careful.”

Su Ci grabbed his wrist and steadied him. Her soft, smooth touch made his heart flutter. Her hands were so small and delicate, she couldn’t even fully wrap them around his.

Before opening the bags, Bo Qi’an had assumed it was all underwear.

But once he started unpacking, he was shocked to find—his wife had bought him everything she bought for Lu Jinyan. Ties, shoes, cufflinks, watches… all of it.

His joy lasted only a moment before being replaced with complicated thoughts.

So she bought two of each, huh? Did she want to compare how the two of them looked in the same things?

Or maybe Lu Jinyan had somehow convinced her to do this. After all, having the ex-fiancé wear the same outfit as the husband was a little too on-the-nose.

Heh. If we’re wearing the same thing, it’s not a big deal. The uglier one is the one who should feel embarrassed.

Holding the clothes, Bo Qi’an walked proudly into the bathroom to change. His face was so serious, it was like he was about to present to the board of directors.

“You have good taste, my dear. This set suits me even better.”

Su Ci blinked.

Even better?

Was he saying this set looked better than the ultra-luxurious custom-made suit he was currently wearing? That couldn’t be right…

She’d just thought it might be fun to try a new style.

I mean—if you had a tall, broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted, manga-protagonist-looking husband, wouldn’t you want to play dress-up too? If she had time, she’d dress him herself.