What's Wrong With Rear-Ending Your Arranged Marriage Partner? He Totally Loves It - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Do You Like Me?

Qi Yan’s villa.

Song Cun sat on the living room sofa, frowning, watching his luggage being moved in box by box.

After getting their marriage certificate, Qi Yan brought him straight back here.

Song Cun’s gaze fell on Qi Yan, who was currently pouring a glass of water.

He’d always known rumors could be unreliable, but he hadn’t expected them to be this far off—ugly to the point of becoming a recluse? Please, this man was so handsome it should be a crime!

Although… there was one thing the rumors might’ve gotten right—Qi Yan’s health didn’t seem that great.

His skin was snow-white, but it leaned more toward a pale, sickly tone. Even with the warm heating inside the house, there wasn’t much color in his face.

“It’s a bit cold today. Have some warm water.”

Qi Yan handed him the glass, and Song Cun noticed the black, customized bracelet peeking from under his sleeve.

He thought to himself: An alpha who needs a bracelet to suppress his pheromones… Qi Yan’s gland issues must be serious.

Seeing him unresponsive—“Cun Cun?” Qi Yan called softly.

Snapping out of it, Song Cun took the glass but glared at him.

“Do we know each other that well? Don’t call me Cun Cun!”

Qi Yan chuckled lightly, still speaking gently. “Sorry. I just think the name ‘Cun Cun’ sounds really nice… cute, just like you.”

Cute?

Song Cun shut his eyes briefly. That was the first time someone had ever called him cute to his face.

Are you serious? He was known in the entertainment industry as the cold and untouchable lone flower—and now this man was giving him the “adorable” label?

“Then can I call you Xiao Cun?” Qi Yan asked.

“Absolutely not.” Song Cun crossed his arms in defiance.

Xiao Cun—that sounded like he was some junior. Out there, among his peers, who didn’t respectfully call him Cun-ge?

He was used to being called “ge” (big bro), and now someone was calling him little Cun? Especially someone who was only three years older than him?

“All my younger bros call me Cun-ge. Just call me that too.”

“Alright, Cun-ge.”

Song Cun: …Huh? That obedient?

He should’ve felt triumphant at getting his way, but instead, it felt more like he was being humored like a child.

“Forget it. Don’t call me Cun-ge either. Just call me Song Cun.”

Qi Yan fell silent.

Song Cun thought he was irritated by his constant back-and-forth. But then he heard Qi Yan’s voice again, sounding… a bit aggrieved.

“Can I not call you that? It makes us feel like strangers…”

Song Cun was slightly surprised but maintained his arms-crossed pose and replied coolly, “We literally just met today. Isn’t it normal to feel like strangers?”

Qi Yan nodded understandingly.

“That’s true, but we’ll be living together from now on. We’ll get to know each other over time… So, can I please call you Cun Cun?”

His tone was warm and sincere. And with that ridiculously good-looking face of his, it was hard to stay mad.

Song Cun pressed his lips together. In the end, he didn’t say anything to refute it.

Fine. Whatever. It’s just a name—call me what you want.
Honestly, it wasn’t like he hated being called Cun Cun. It was just a bit cheesy, something he wasn’t used to.

But this whole situation felt so weird—Qi Yan was supposed to be the one with all the power, the financial backer, the one calling the shots.
And yet somehow, he felt more like the one giving orders.

“Why did you choose me?” Song Cun looked at him, finally voicing the question that had baffled him all this time.

“Our compatibility score isn’t even 80%. You clearly had better options.”

After saying that, he snorted and added, “Don’t tell me it was love at first sight from a photo. That’s the kind of crap only some over-the-top drama would use.”

Qi Yan stiffened slightly, his fingers brushing the ring in his pocket. His dark eyes fixed intently on Song Cun. After a moment, he answered seriously:

“I really do like you.”

Song Cun thought it was ridiculous.

“You like me? Without even meeting me? That’s way too casual.”

Qi Yan didn’t respond. He simply looked at Song Cun, knowing full well that things had started far too abruptly between them. No matter what he said now, Song Cun wouldn’t believe him.

Song Cun stood up from the sofa, looking down at Qi Yan with a stronger presence.

“Qi Yan, whether you really like me or not is your business. But I will never like you.”

And I’ll never like anyone.

Qi Yan tilted his head up slightly to meet his gaze. His complexion looked even paler.

Song Cun felt a strange twinge of guilt—as if he were bullying someone who was sick.
But logically speaking, he was the one being forced into this marriage.

“This whole marriage wasn’t my choice. I never wanted to get married. I’m just a commodity sold to you by the Song family. They got their benefits, but I owe you nothing. This was your choice, not mine. I don’t owe you a thing.”

When Song Cun referred to himself as a commodity, Qi Yan felt a sharp pang in his chest.
He never looked away from Song Cun, even though Song Cun refused to look at him.

After a long pause, Qi Yan finally spoke. “I’m sorry…”

He had thought this marriage was heaven’s way of finally giving him something he longed for.
But now, he realized Song Cun had been forced into it.

Qi Yan apologized again.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know… that you weren’t willing.”

Then he added:

“Cun Cun, of course you don’t owe me anything. You don’t need to feel burdened by my feelings. I just hope… that from now on, you can be happy here with me.”

Something bitter and sour swelled in Song Cun’s chest.

He suddenly thought—if only Qi Yan were a nasty, ugly, temperamental jerk.
That way, he could say harsh words without guilt, provoke the guy into blowing up or even hitting him—Then he’d have every excuse to ask for a divorce.

But Qi Yan was too gentle. He even apologized, and sincerely wished him happiness…

In over twenty years of his life, all his father ever did was call him a jinx.
His mother used him like an emotional dumping ground.
His brother just mocked him with glee.
His agency molded him into a heartthrob money-maker.
His so-called friends only came to him for parties and drinks.

No one had ever said to him: “I hope you’re happy.”

For a brief moment, Song Cun was truly moved.

But he quickly reminded himself—he didn’t know Qi Yan at all.
For all he knew, this was just a facade.

So, he asked Qi Yan:

“If you really want me to be happy… can I make a request?”