Before he knew it, the day had arrived to return to the old mansion. The two alphas fought over who would escort Shi Yuxing, eventually settling on splitting the duty—one would drop him off, the other would pick him up, so neither came out on the losing end. Shi Yuxing found their jealous squabbling quite amusing—not because two alphas were vying for his favor, but because those faces belonged to Gu Lingzhou.
Da Ling saw him onto the starship and leaned down to remind him, “Beware of Grandmother.”
The cryptic remark made Shi Yuxing turn his head, but before he could ask what it meant, the door closed. Xiao Zhou shot Da Ling a proud look, like a victor returning to his territory, and settled into the driver’s seat. “Wife, why don’t you sit up front with me?” A pair of lively, clear eyes appeared in the rearview mirror, carrying that unique blend of youthful energy and grievance.
Shi Yuxing met his gaze, then suddenly remembered something. He fished out a mask and a cap, tossed them over, and said, “Put these on. Don’t let anyone recognize you.”
While Xiao Zhou was putting on the mask, Shi Yuxing rolled down the window. The man was still standing by the door, impeccably composed. A fair, beautiful face poked out from the window, tea-colored eyes bright and radiant. “What did you mean by that just now?”
The man lowered his gaze, his eyes resting on that beautiful face. His thin lips parted slightly. “Don’t trust anyone except Gu Lingzhou.”
…
The starship exited the main thoroughfare, and gradually, the full view of the old mansion came into sight. In the three years since marrying Gu Lingzhou, Shi Yuxing had visited many times but had never managed to explore the entire sprawling estate. First, it was simply too vast to cover on foot. Second, the Gu family had many rules—some rooms were off-limits, and Shi Yuxing had never found the inclination to pry.
The manor, nestled among the trees, was immense. A clear, mirror-like lake reflected the ornate palace walls. Roman columns supported the towering architecture, its symmetrical proportions radiating rationality and elegance, yet intertwined with the dynamic lines and opulence of the Baroque era. In the midst of all that wealth, one could almost smell the scent of power.
The starship slowed, and the estate’s massive iron gates granted passage after verifying the owner’s identity.
The sky was the color of a duck egg’s pale blue, with distant hills swallowing the yolk-like sun. Half of Shi Yuxing’s face was bathed in gentle warmth, his translucent, glass-like eyes shimmering with reflections of water and trees. The breeze flowed in through the window, tousling the fine strands of hair across his forehead and revealing a broad expanse of smooth skin.
“Wife, where should I park so I won’t be spotted?” A muffled voice came from the driver’s seat—even through the mask, one could imagine the pout underneath. He was clearly his wife, yet he had to hide like some mistriss.
The parking bay wasn’t a good option. Shi Yuxing told him to stop right there and walk the rest of the way to avoid unnecessary complications.
“Right here. You can head back now.”
The starship came to a halt. Shi Yuxing reached for the door, but his wrist was caught. Gu Lingzhou quickly pulled down his mask, leaned over, and pressed a kiss to the back of Shi Yuxing’s hand. Then, shyly, he couldn’t bring himself to look at him. Shi Yuxing could clearly see this giant, ripe tomato’s lashes lowered, his lips pressing together nervously. “I can wait here until you’re done.”
For a moment, Shi Yuxing was utterly transfixed. An innocent young boy like this—God, it was too delicious.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. He licked his lips, pulled his foot back in, and hooked his slender fingers around Gu Lingzhou’s collar, yanking him closer. Hot breath fanned across his lips. The desire in Gu Lingzhou’s eyes was utterly unconcealable, so raw it made Shi Yuxing want to laugh. “You were bold enough to kiss my hand. Why stop now?”
“I…” The 18-year-old general was still just a virgin who blushed at the slightest tease. Shi Yuxing’s gaze drifted downward—young people were so impatient. How amusing.
Throwing caution to the wind, Gu Lingzhou closed his eyes and leaned forward, clearly aiming for a real kiss. But Shi Yuxing’s palm blocked him—lips met palm. Gu Lingzhou’s eyes clung to him with desperate affection.
“You can kiss me when we get home.” With that, he kindly pulled Gu Lingzhou’s mask back up.
The poor puppy watched helplessly as his owner shut the door.
After walking a short distance, Shi Yuxing let out a breath, pressed a hand over his wildly pounding heart, and rubbed the spot on his palm where lips had brushed.
“All around you, so many beau—” Shi Yuxing hastily answered the phone. The voice from the receiver simultaneously sounded not far ahead of him. He looked up sharply and saw the expressionless figure also glancing his way, striding over while hanging up with one hand.
The closer General Gu got, the hotter Shi Yuxing’s face grew—partly from guilt, partly because the other man’s gaze was so intense it made him feel shy. When they were just a meter apart, the alpha grabbed Shi Yuxing’s hand. “You look beautiful today.”
Wh-what—had this man been possessed or something?
Gu Lingzhou brushed aside his tousled hair. “Is this the suit we wore for our wedding?”
“Mm, what else? Wear my white coat?” Shi Yuxing muttered, a hint of resentment in his tone. You have the nerve to bring up the wedding—who was it that ran off on our wedding night without even consummating the marriage or sharing a kiss? He really wanted to kick that perfectly perky butt right now. It looked far too tempting.
Gu Lingzhou ignored his resentful, scheming gaze and continued on his own. “That ringtone—didn’t I tell you it’s bad luck?” He was referring to the ringtone he’d set for Shi Yuxing’s phone.
Shi Yuxing sulked and shook off his hand. “I haven’t found a good one yet, and I’m too lazy to change it. Besides, I think that song has some kind of magic.” He folded his arms, puffed out his chest, lifted his chin, and strode past Gu Lingzhou, heading off on his own.
Gu Lingzhou had no idea what he’d done wrong—he’d only asked Shi Yuxing to change his ringtone. How had that made him angry? His sharp lips pressed into a thin line, and with a long stride, he followed after.
Out of consideration for both the Shi and Gu families’ reputations, Shi Yuxing still looped his arm through Gu Lingzhou’s before stepping through the door.
It had been quiet outside, but inside, the place was packed with all sorts of people. Shi Yuxing had thought he’d arrived early, but now it seemed he and Gu Lingzhou were actually among the latecomers.
As the two entered, a wave of gazes converged on them, making their position the center of attention.
“General Gu, Young Master Shi—long time no see.” The first to approach was a stout, broad-shouldered man Shi Yuxing didn’t recognize. He glanced at Gu Lingzhou out of the corner of his eye; the man gave a curt, expressionless nod.
“Yuxing, you look stunning in that outfit today.” It was probably some madam from a prominent family. Shi Yuxing found her familiar but couldn’t recall her name. He nodded politely in return. “You look radiant today as well.”
Shi Yuxing kept a perfectly measured smile on his face, just as he’d been taught since childhood—outwardly courteous and gracious, while internally he wanted to curse every single person there.
What’s it to me? What’s it to you?
After finally fending off the swarm of guests, he immediately ran into someone he didn’t want to see.
The red tear-shaped mole at the corner of Wen Lan’s eye ignited a fire of fury in Shi Yuxing’s heart. He whipped his head around and glared at Gu Lingzhou—but that bastard didn’t even spare him a glance, staring straight at Wen Lan without blinking. Shi Yuxing let out a cold sneer, staring at Gu Lingzhou’s shoes, already planning exactly how to stomp on them a thousand times.
He didn’t want to stand there watching his husband and his mistress exchange glances, becoming a laughingstock for everyone else. He immediately let go. But the moment his hand dropped, Gu Lingzhou clamped down on it like a snake flicking its forked tongue, coiling tightly around its prey.
“Why are you here?”
Wen Lan was somewhat of a beauty himself, with shoulder-length wavy hair tied back, the ends resting on his shoulders. His gaze drifted, his voice carrying an undeniable gentleness. Even with the gauze on his face looking alarming and bruises at the corners of his mouth, his aura was unmistakable. “Mrs. Gu, allow me to formally introduce myself. I’m Wen Lan, deputy to Commander Gu.” He didn’t answer Gu Lingzhou’s question but instead greeted Shi Yuxing directly, which made Shi Yuxing’s temples throb. His eyes fixed on the man, scanning him from head to toe.
Just average. A bit taller than me, and that face—not quite as good as mine. Gu Lingzhou is such a bastard!
His view was blocked by a large palm. Gu Lingzhou’s voice was icy cold. “Wen Lan. Why are you here?” His tone carried an unspoken authority, his aura so powerful it snapped Shi Yuxing back to attention. He looked at Gu Lingzhou’s sharp jawline—why was he being so harsh with his own lover? Not an ounce of tenderness. Sure, Wen Lan was slightly inferior to him, but that face was still a rare beauty.
A warm, jade-like voice came through. “I was invited by Grandmother Gu. Does the General not wish for me to be here?”
What was going on? Why did the air smell of gunpowder?
“Go back to the hospital if you’re not fully healed.”
Wen Lan replied unhurriedly, “Thank you for your concern, but… I’m already fit enough to go to the battlefield alongside the General.”
So that’s it—he was just using Shi Yuxing as a pawn in his game. Gu Lingzhou really was a scumbag! Shi Yuxing shoved Gu Lingzhou’s hand away, breaking free. “Move. I’m hungry.”
Damn it. When I get home, I’m making both Gu Lingzhous kneel on the floor. They’re all sleeping in the guest room tonight. I’m sick of looking at that face.
Chewing furiously, not even the desserts could quell the fire burning in Shi Yuxing’s chest.
Seeing Shi Yuxing alone, a young master who’d been too timid to approach earlier finally stepped forward. “Young Master Shi, do you remember me?”
Shi Yuxing looked up. No recollection. “Vaguely.”
The young master fidgeted, stammering after Shi Yuxing’s reply. “I was sick before—you treated my gland. I’m all better now.”
A patient. Shi Yuxing nodded, swallowing the food in his mouth. “Mm, congratulations.”
Under Shi Yuxing’s gaze, the young master’s ears flushed pink, the color quickly spreading across both ears. “After I was discharged, I sent you flowers. Did you… did you receive…”
Shi Yuxing suddenly remembered. Could that be the same idiot who sent him roses?
“Don’t send any more,” Shi Yuxing said coldly. It was a bad look for a doctor to accept gifts anyway—and besides, was this guy an idiot? Sure, Gu Lingzhou had cheated, but he still held the title of the General’s wife.
“Huh?” The young master’s eyes widened, staring at him in a daze, like that puppy at home who had just turned eighteen.
Shi Yuxing let out a soft laugh, which made the young master freeze, his pupils going unfocused as if in a trance.
“I said the hospital doesn’t accept gifts. I hope you won’t need to come back.” With that, he turned and found a sofa to sit down on.
He was never one to leave a trail of admirers. Since childhood, the number of people who’d liked him could circle the entire Imperial Star. But he’d never been interested in any of them, nor did he ever give them a chance. He still felt that Gu Lingzhou had been incredibly lucky to marry him. Yet this man not only failed to appreciate it, but dared to cheat on him.
Frustration settled in his chest, and the thought of divorce surfaced once again.
Damn it. How dare he cheat on me.
“Xingxing.” Shi Yuxing’s closed eyes snapped open to see Gu Lingzhou supporting his grandmother, having appeared at some point.
Shi Yuxing stood up. “Grandmother.”
The old lady was seventy this year, already approaching the end of her years, yet her collagen hadn’t diminished much. Her hair was still jet-black, with only faint wrinkles on her face—she didn’t look like someone in her seventies. The imperial-green jadeite bracelets on her wrist and necklace around her neck were blindingly bright, overshadowing even the obviously expensive black cheongsam she wore. “Xingxing, now that Lingzhou is back, the two of you should spend more time together and nurture your relationship. Let me hold a great-grandchild soon.”
Here we go again—the baby-pressure talk.
Shi Yuxing said “yes” with his mouth, but inwardly he was grumbling. He didn’t want children. Each birth was a life-threatening ordeal. Every time the obstetrics department delivered a baby, the mothers were in agonizing pain. And if the placenta stayed inside after a natural birth, the doctor had to reach in and pull it out by hand, tearing away a chunk of flesh. Unless you truly loved your partner and genuinely wanted a child, you really needed to think twice.
“You’re all talk, dear. Three years and your belly’s still empty,” Grandmother said, then turned to scold Gu Lingzhou beside her. “And you—leaving Xingxing all alone. You barely come back even when you do visit. It worries me to death.”
The old lady, who looked radiant and showed no sign of worry at all, stroked the bracelet on her wrist and continued to lecture her grandson.
“Beware of Grandmother…” A faint reminder whispered into his ear. Gu Lingzhou’s hesitant expression surfaced, gradually overlapping with the man before him. He furrowed his brow and leaned in closer—his straight, prominent nose nearly brushing against Shi Yuxing’s eyes.
The murky haze in his glass-like eyes cleared, becoming transparent once more.
“Grandmother’s gone. Are you feeling unwell? Do you want to go upstairs and rest?”
Shi Yuxing pinched the bridge of his nose, a hint of weariness in his voice. “I’m fine. Probably just didn’t sleep well last night.”
“If you’re tired, I can help you upstairs to lie down.” The shadow of his face didn’t fade. Shi Yuxing tilted his head slightly to look at him—those clear, black-and-white eyes, neither with the purity of youth nor the bitterness of middle age, but carrying something inscrutable.
“No, someone’s looking for you.” His long, thick lashes fell as Shi Yuxing dropped his gaze—Wen Lan had arrived. Gu Lingzhou turned back, exchanged a few words with Wen Lan, then explained to Shi Yuxing.
Shi Yuxing rubbed his temples and put on a show of exhaustion. “I have work tomorrow. I’m heading back.” Gu Lingzhou was about to urge him to stay, but Shi Yuxing shot him a glance and added, “I have a driver.”
The wind was biting cold, ice-knives stabbing at his lungs. Shi Yuxing burrowed deeper into his collar. Two beams of light in the distance felt like warmth coming toward him—the starship cut through the fog. The figure stepping out of the driver’s seat was identical in build to Gu Lingzhou, with a faint trace of wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. He draped a thick coat over Shi Yuxing’s shoulders. “Why didn’t you wait inside?”
Shi Yuxing pressed down his cap’s brim and pulled up the scarf around his neck, covering half of his face.
Leaning on the balcony, Wen Lan swirled the goblet in his hand and followed the gaze of the person beside him. The smile at the corner of his mouth faded—who was that? So intimate with Shi Yuxing. He spoke in a light, teasing tone: “General, you even have a personal driver to escort your wife home. You two really do have a wonderful relationship.”
Gu Lingzhou’s sharp gaze was fixed on the two figures. The man in black was bundled up tightly—Gu Lingzhou couldn’t make out his face. He watched as the man helped Shi Yuxing into the starship.
Just as the door was closing, the man looked up and met his gaze head-on. In the darkness, those eyes were achingly familiar—the wrinkles at their corners were like the deepest chasm in the world, separating the two ends far apart.
Gu Lingzhou’s pupils contracted sharply. He didn’t even hear what Wen Lan said next. He turned and rushed toward the stairs.
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