Marrying Three Men Home

Lin Sangyu was speechless. The thought of the bodyguard she might have injured outside filled her with a mix of irritation and guilt. She rummaged through the first-aid kit Jiang Wenzhe had prepared, pulling out band-aids and anti-inflammatory ointment.

When she pushed the door open again, a sheepish smile was already plastered on her face. She gave an awkward chuckle. "S-sorry about that."

"No worries, it doesn't hurt that much," said the bodyguard, wincing as he spoke, a dried streak of blood on his nose.

Lin Sangyu placed the ointment and band-aids on her palm and offered them with both hands. "This is anti-inflammatory ointment. You should apply some."

The man took them immediately and said to the other bodyguard, who was trying to stifle a laugh, "Hey, Leo, stop laughing at me. Give me a hand—I can't see what I'm doing."

Once they had applied the medicine, Lin Sangyu couldn't wait to head out, the two bodyguards trailing right behind her.

Everything about England felt strange and new, especially when she passed people of different skin tones and ethnicities. Some had dark skin and tight curls, others had blond hair and blue eyes—all varied in appearance, yet everyone walked the streets with confidence and ease.

Lin Sangyu snapped photos as she walked, initially reminding herself about rule-of-thirds composition, central composition, leading lines... paying attention to exposure, clearing the frame... But soon, she was just shooting by feel, abandoning all technique and rules.

Turning a corner, she entered a narrower street—or more precisely, an alley oozing vintage tranquility. The cobblestone path and stone buildings on both sides carried a heavy sense of history, lined with local clothing boutiques, secondhand bookstores, fragrance and homeware shops, and cafés.

Lin Sangyu stepped into a quiet café with few customers and, with the bodyguard's help translating, ordered a flat white and two small pastries.

While there, she noticed how tiring it must be for the two bodyguards to follow her around all day, so she offered to buy them some desserts as a snack.

But both bodyguards refused with stern expressions, stating that their duty was to ensure her safety and that eating on the job was against protocol.

Lin Sangyu looked at them with admiration, thinking to herself that she wasn't cut out to be a bodyguard—she simply couldn't resist the temptation of dessert.

Some money was just meant for them to earn, she figured.

Speaking of desserts, Lin Sangyu felt a bit annoyed. Jiang Wenzhe had some kind of obsession with controlling her, never allowing her to eat too much. Desserts, in his eyes, were forbidden.

Whenever she asked why, the answer was always that desserts were high in sugar, oil, and calories, which could worsen inflammation, increase metabolic risks, and cause indigestion...

He was over thirty and didn't eat them—she could understand that. But she was only in her twenties—why couldn't she eat them?

Wasn't youth supposed to be an asset?

At that thought, Lin Sangyu felt a pang of unhappiness and jabbed her fork into a piece of chocolate brownie, shoving it into her mouth.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" a voice suddenly spoke in Chinese, with oddly pitched tones and a heavy foreign accent.

Lin Sangyu looked up to see a beautiful white woman with deep-set eyes, a high-bridged nose, and fair skin, standing about a meter behind her at an angle, about to approach. But before she could take another step, one of the bodyguards reached out to block her.

The woman was caught off guard, standing there awkwardly and confused, casting a pleading look at Lin Sangyu.

Seeing this, Lin Sangyu quickly said, "It's fine, let her come over."

With a quick glance to confirm the woman was wearing light summer clothes with no suspicious items, the bodyguard stepped aside to let her pass.

"Hello, my name is Amelia," the woman said, her earlier embarrassment vanishing like a sudden change in weather. She greeted warmly, "Are these your bodyguards?"

"Uh, sorry about that," Lin Sangyu said apologetically. "My name is Lin Sangyu."

"Oh, it's fine, I'm the one intruding," Amelia said cheerfully. "I'm a Chinese language enthusiast. When I see East Asians, I like to come say hi and see if they're Chinese. If they are, I chat with them to practice my spoken Chinese. So, how's my Chinese? Pretty good, right?"

Amelia rested her chin on her hand, looking at Lin Sangyu eagerly, as if to say 'Praise me, praise me!'.

Truth be told, Amelia's pronunciation wasn't crisp and her tones were off, but it was still impressive for a foreigner. Lin Sangyu immediately smiled, her eyes curving into crescents, and replied, "It's great, really—we can communicate without any problem."

Amelia preened for a moment, then asked, "Are you here on vacation?"

"Sort of. I came with a friend—he's here on business. I have nothing to do, so it's like a vacation for me."

Amelia's enthusiasm grew. "How about I be your tour guide? I just quit my job and I'm bored stiff."

Lin Sangyu hesitated, a little taken aback.

"What's wrong? Am I being too pushy? Sorry, I get too excited sometimes," Amelia said, scratching her head in embarrassment.

Lin Sangyu snapped back to reality and quickly added, "No, not at all. I was just thinking you're different from the British people I read about online. Before I came, I searched online, and they all said Brits are polite, reserved, and keep their distance. But you're so warm and outgoing—not like what they said at all."

Amelia thought for a moment, then said seriously, "Well, that's true for a lot of us here. But there are always exceptions. Just like you Chinese people are known for being hardworking and enduring hardship, but I see plenty of Chinese students here who skip class, fail exams, and goof off all day." She paused, then put on a pained expression. "I really worry about their future—and China's future too. I mean, they're supposed to study for the rise of China."

Lin Sangyu burst out laughing, revealing two shallow dimples.

As luck would have it, the sun seemed to favor her at that moment, casting all its warm golden rays on Lin Sangyu. Her lashes cast a delicate pattern of light and shadow on her eyelids, making her look like a flower awakened by a spring kiss.

Amelia fell silent, staring at Lin Sangyu for a long while, then said dreamily, "Darling, you're so cute, so pretty."

"R-really?" Lin Sangyu was thin-skinned; the compliment made her embarrassed, and a blush crept to her ears.

Amelia took Lin Sangyu's hand and said sincerely, "Really. Don't you know you're beautiful? Or are you just being modest? I know you Chinese people are the most modest."

Lin Sangyu was clearly the former. She hadn't been human for long—aside from the past few months, she'd only been human as a child, when no one had really developed their looks, still carrying childish features without any concept of beauty or ugliness.

As for now, while many people complimented her looks, she always felt they were just being polite.

"Thank you," Lin Sangyu said softly, biting her lip.

"What's there to thank? I'm just stating the truth," Amelia said, leaning in a little closer with a mischievous grin. "You're so pretty that when I first saw you, I thought you were out shopping with your two boyfriends."

"!!!" Lin Sangyu's dark eyes widened in shock. "What are you talking about?"

She nervously glanced back at the two bodyguards, thinking that if, during Jiang Wenzhe's business trip of over ten days, she had not only gotten with local white guys but two at once—Jiang Wenzhe would kill her.

"Why not? You're pretty, so what if you date a few? Isn't it a blessing for those guys?" Amelia said nonchalantly. "And those men, thinking they're so handsome, cheat on one, two, or even three girlfriends—it's everywhere."

After a few seconds of silence, Lin Sangyu nodded thoughtfully, as if she'd actually taken it to heart. "I think you have a point."

"Hey, wait," Amelia panicked, "I was just joking. Just because some people are unfaithful in relationships doesn't mean we should follow suit. We should stay loyal, stick to one-on-one."

Lin Sangyu thought for a moment, then pulled off a perfect demonstration of the saying 'one who doesn't speak often surprises when they do,' and said, "But I just thought you actually made a lot of sense."

Amelia: ?

Lin Sangyu added, "Where I'm from, according to family tradition, they don't practice monogamy."

"Where you're from? There's a place like that in China?" Amelia was so shocked she stood up, staring at Lin Sangyu in disbelief.

The sky was falling—weren't the Chinese supposed to be the most conservative and traditional? How were they more open than the British?

Lin Sangyu was momentarily at a loss for words. She couldn't exactly say it was a sugar glider custom, so she improvised, "It's a small place in China. Only a tiny minority practice it."

Amelia swallowed hard, trying to process it. "Your China really is... vast and rich."

Lin Sangyu pursed her lips and said proudly, "Of course."

"So, how many are you planning to date? How many will you marry?"

Lin Sangyu propped her hands under her chin, scrunched up her face as she thought seriously, and finally said sternly, "As for dating, no limit, I guess. For marriage, three: one to play with me, one to sleep with me, and one to help me run the household."

Amelia let out a "Wow," awed by the idea, and couldn't help but imagine herself in it.

If she spent her days with a 1.95-meter-tall man with eight-pack abs, playing all day, then came home to find the house cleaned by another husband, dinner on the table made to her taste, and then went to bed with another stunningly handsome lover who'd already warmed the sheets...

That life would be pretty great.

Lin Sangyu's eyes sparkled. "Right? Right? You think it's great too, don't you?"

"It really is! Your hometown's customs are amazing!"

"So, should I start looking for my three future husbands now?" Lin Sangyu was a doer, already starting to worry about it.

As she mulled it over, a tall figure suddenly loomed behind her, appearing out of nowhere.

Before she could even turn to look, she heard a man's voice, tight with tension and cold as ice:

"Lin. Sang. Yu."