After Being Deceived, I Married Someone Else and Had Children Chapter 44

The garden was beautiful.

In one quiet corner, the rare scene made even the hurried footsteps of passing servants slow down, their voices softening unconsciously.

“Hey, why are you stopping here? Madam Zuo and the young masters and ladies are awake—there’s still plenty for us to do,” said a maid carrying a bucket.

“Shh! Don’t wake up Young Master Zuo Shihuan,” whispered another, clutching a large vase and glancing nervously over her shoulder.

Following her gaze, they saw sunlight creeping over the earth to his feet. The tree branches filtered the rays into scattered patterns of gold that danced across his composed, pale face. His long lashes cast faint shadows as his eyes remained closed, lips faintly flushed, resting against the stone bench in the corner of the garden.

In that soft light, his dark hair fell loose and gentle—none of the usual cold, unyielding air about him remained. Faint shadows beneath his eyes spoke of long exhaustion. Unguarded, he had fallen asleep on the hard, cold bench, one arm propped under his head, his tall frame slightly curled in on itself, fragile and thin.

It struck the maids then—

Even someone as powerful and untouchable as him could grow tired.

Even he could, like an ordinary person, find some quiet, hidden place to rest when the weariness became too much.

The image of the aloof, distant man they’d always admired blurred and softened—

Leaving only this solitary figure sleeping silently on a garden bench, so unguarded that the maids didn’t dare breathe too loud, afraid to wake him.

The one holding the vase whispered to her companion, “Let’s take the long way around—don’t wake Young Master Zuo Shihuan.”

“Mm-hmm, but why would Young Master Zuo Shihuan be here? It’s the first time I’ve seen him look so tired. He’s hardly ever at the Zuo residence during the day — compared to the other idle young masters and ladies, he looks much busier.”

The maid holding a flower vase hesitated before adding, “Should we maybe bring a blanket to cover him? It’s still a little chilly in the garden this early in the morning.”

Just as the maid carrying a bucket was wondering what to do, a calm male voice suddenly spoke beside her.

“No need. I’ve already brought one.”

Both maids startled and turned to see Butler Lin, who had appeared beside them. His eyes were fixed on the sleeping Young Master Zuo Shihuan on the stone bench. A neatly folded light-colored blanket hung from his arm, and his brows were furrowed slightly as if uncertain whether he should step forward.

“Good morning, Butler Lin,” the two maids greeted in unison.

Butler Lin withdrew his gaze and replied, “Good morning to you too. You can go on with your work.”

“Yes, sir,” they answered.

But one of the maids couldn’t help glancing again at the stone bench, reluctant to leave. With some concern, she asked, “Butler Lin, aren’t you going to cover the young master with the blanket?”

Butler Lin hesitated too, but shook his head. “I’ll wait a little longer. It’s not easy for Young Master Zuo Shihuan to fall asleep.”

He knew better than anyone how busy Young Master Zuo usually was. He had never once seen him relax in a quiet corner of the garden like this. And the frequent nightmares only added to his exhaustion.

Lately, Butler Lin had been considering ways to help the young master sleep better—perhaps replacing his coffee with some vitamin-rich fruit juice that could aid rest. But shortly after sending him to his study, he’d heard from Assistant Zhong that all of Young Master Zuo’s appointments for the day had been canceled.

For a moment, Butler Lin thought something serious had happened in the study. Why else would Young Master Zuo stop working altogether? But after checking with Assistant Zhong and confirming that there had been no argument between Master Zuo Zhoujian and Young Master Zuo Shihuan, he was somewhat reassured.

Even so, worry still weighed on him. He used his own channels to find out where the young master had gone—only to be surprised to learn he was in the garden.

Softening his expression, Butler Lin half-squatted and moved quietly, intending to drape the blanket over him. But before he could, the man on the stone bench stirred.

Startled, Butler Lin froze, staring at the young master who should have been asleep. His eyelashes fluttered, and his eyes slowly opened. At first they were hazy with sleep, but soon the pale brown irises caught the morning light, gleaming with a lazy amber hue. His gaze gradually focused—on Butler Lin.

Zuo Shihuan’s lips curved into a faint smile, and his still-raspy voice said, “Butler Lin, you’re here.”

Butler Lin instinctively smiled back, but quickly looked apologetic. “Yes, it’s me. My apologies, young master—I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine. I’m a light sleeper anyway. I wouldn’t have slept much longer out here.”

Zuo Shihuan rose without concern, brushing a fallen leaf off his knee and leaving the stone bench that was growing colder despite the morning sunlight.

Then he turned and noticed the two maids who still hadn’t left.

Zuo Shihuan looked slightly puzzled, then recalled hearing voices while half-asleep—Butler Lin’s and two female ones. His memory was always good; he remembered roughly what they’d said. It must have been them.

He greeted them first, his pale brown eyes carrying a gentle smile. “Good morning to you both.”

The two maids jumped, faces flushing red as they stammered, “G-good morning, Young Master Zuo Shihuan!”

It was their first time being this close to him, and both grew nervous, unsure where to look. They stole a glance at his calm, refined yet warm gaze—and their hearts began to race. They couldn’t get another word out, only lowered their heads shyly, cheeks burning.

Zuo Shihuan noticed their discomfort. He’d long grown used to such reactions. Many people—even his half-siblings in the Zuo family—would stutter or freeze up in his presence.

He’d also learned how to ease the mood. Smiling faintly, he said, “I remember your names… you’re called… aren’t you?”

The two maids, startled to hear their names from his mouth, were momentarily dazed. They were just ordinary servants in the Zuo household, not senior staff, never expecting the young master himself to remember who they were.

It felt like the nerves of being called out by the top boss himself.

Even though Young Master Zuo was known to treat servants much better than the other heirs and ladies of the family, he was still the one they all respected and feared. To have him standing before them, speaking directly—it made them afraid of saying the wrong thing and being dismissed the next day.

“Yes, young master,” they replied softly, nervous.

Zuo Shihuan glanced at the maid holding the flower vase and casually changed the subject, his eyes warm with amusement. “I remember one of the floral arrangements in the reception hall was done by you, wasn’t it? It was lovely—the visiting ladies even complimented it.”

The maid holding the vase brightened, her cheeks flushed with shy joy. “Thank you, young master. That was the only time I ever did an arrangement. Usually I just help carry things.”

She was self-aware enough to know her floral skills weren’t remarkable—many of the older housekeepers and senior maids were far better. But to have even that one effort remembered and praised by the Zuo family’s esteemed young master—she could hardly believe it, and felt deeply happy.

“Young master, your memory is amazing—you even remember such a trivial thing I did.”

Zuo Shihuan paused briefly, then smiled. “Is it? Then it’s only because you did your job well enough to catch my attention.”

The maid blushed deeper, flustered yet elated under his praise, looking at him with shy anticipation.

Beneath Zuo Shihuan’s smiling eyes, however, lay a quiet detachment. His mind was already running through every piece of information he had about her. Even if he’d officially “taken the day off,” he could never truly rest.

After the engagement banquet, a new wave of trouble would arrive.

Perhaps sometimes having too good a memory wasn’t a blessing. From the moment Zuo Shihuan opened his eyes each morning, never once stopping his work, streams of information would pour into his mind, forcing him to remember everything.

Every face he saw matched with a file in his head — dates of birth, parents’ identities, background, personal skills and experience — even how many times they had dated Alphas, Betas, or Omegas of various genders. He could recall these details so clearly that he might know them better than they knew themselves.

In the perilous Zuo family, Zuo Shihuan had blocked far too many people’s paths. He had survived no fewer than three assassination attempts. Even an apparently gentle, weak Omega might carry enough poison to kill an elephant.

Perhaps because this Zuo family Alpha heir had appeared too suddenly — no one had expected an abandoned slum-born illegitimate child to undergo a rare second differentiation and emerge as an Alpha — he had snatched away the fruit others thought already theirs. Unwilling to accept it, they banded together, combining forces to strike against him.

Zuo Shihuan had no choice but to remain cautious, memorizing every person around him — staying alert, using them when needed, and eliminating them the moment they posed a threat.

For a Beta from the slums to rise so swiftly within the labyrinthine politics of the Zuo clan — and even be praised and recognized as the perfect, outstanding successor — meant he had long since seen through every undercurrent and scheme. Not only had he refused to prevent them early, he had even given them a subtle push.

When those plotting in the shadows thought they had him cornered, confident he was already in their grasp, the moment they opened the door they fell straight into the trap he had prepared — caught in one net.

Tracing the line upward to seize the final mastermind, Zuo Shihuan was stopped by members of the Zuo family. The one eventually exposed turned out to be a highly talented Alpha from one of the family’s branch lines.

Zuo Shihuan frowned in dissatisfaction, intending to continue investigating.

But with his father, Zuo Zoujian, mediating as the middleman, he appeared to agree to reconciliation — in truth, taking every bit of compensation available. Then, while everyone assumed he was merely venting anger, he pressed down that branch family, exploited every weakness, and uncovered evidence of their misconduct against Blue Eagle Group.

For a time, the company was in an uproar. Public opinion turned against the branch family’s actions, forcing them into retreat — resignations, revoked shares, confiscated dividends.

Even the internal financial subsidies reserved for Zuo family members were canceled one by one under Zuo Shihuan’s new authority as heir.

Those accustomed to a life of luxury in the Zuo household now found themselves stripped bare; to them, the money they lost wasn’t even fit to feed a dog.

Yet, no matter how much they protested, since they were in the wrong, they could only swallow their anger, assuming that once Zuo Shihuan’s fury cooled, he would spare them.

What they didn’t realize was that, in a short span of time, Blue Eagle Group no longer had any place for them, and the Zuo family elders — tired of the branch’s behavior — began to distance themselves as well. Impressed by Zuo Shihuan’s growing excellence, they turned the disgraced branch into a cautionary example and courted favor with him instead.

As the branch’s power collapsed, they became destitute and ignored — dangling over the cliff’s edge, only a step away from ruin.

Driven into a dead end, they awaited the final push.

On an outwardly calm day, Zuo Shihuan called the Federation Police to report them all, sending every last one to prison — including that talented young Alpha from the branch who had once plotted murder.

This time, no one paid it any mind, nor did anyone stop Zuo Shihuan.

With solid evidence, the trial concluded swiftly.

Not only was the case tied to the attempted murder of Zuo Shihuan, it involved multiple other deaths.

Before that, because the branch line had produced a gifted Alpha descendant — and since the main family then lacked an heir — many branches had pushed their best youths into the competition for that position. That particular branch, seeing itself with the most promise, grew arrogant, even violent, and turned against other branches. Influenced by his elders, even that “talented” young Alpha became vicious.

When Zuo Shihuan rose to a dominant position, the branch collapsed. Afraid of being implicated, some betrayed their own family and handed Zuo Shihuan hard evidence of the branch’s crimes.

Before long, the talented Alpha peer was convicted of multiple murders and sentenced to death. The other Zuo branches who had lost relatives pushed fiercely for the execution, and the sentence was carried out swiftly.

Still, it was, after all, the Zuo family’s scandal. Zuo Zoujian covered the matter completely, erasing every trace of Zuo Shihuan’s involvement. No one was allowed to discuss it; no media outlet reported it. Even though a member of the Zuo family had been executed, not a single word appeared in any newspaper — not even those in the remotest corners.

He had once lived amid the world’s greatest luxury and splendor, yet died utterly alone in the cold execution chamber of a prison.

Afterward, the Zuo family imposed a strict gag order. Those aware of the truth were too frightened to speak, and younger members weren’t even told what had happened.

When someone noticed the conspicuously absent branch Alpha and asked casually, they were harshly scolded by their elders, warned never to mention it again — and instructed that when they met the new young Alpha heir from the main line, they were to treat him with full respect, as their future head of house.

At the funeral, Zuo Shihuan stood under a black umbrella, eyes lowered, watching from afar the red coffin laid out ahead.

The branch family who had been weeping loudly around the coffin fell silent the moment he arrived.

Only an old man, trembling as he leaned on his cane, stepped forward, glaring at Zuo Shihuan with hatred. He demanded to know why he was there — hadn’t he done enough by causing his grandson’s death, by sending his son to prison so he couldn’t even see his child one last time?

The sky was dim, a light drizzle falling.

Zuo Shihuan expected an uproar, yet the surrounding noise gradually subsided into an odd calm.

Back when he had struggled at the bottom, he had thought the heavens impossibly high — that there were people and things forever out of reach. After entering the Zuo family, advancing step by step, he had never dared to relax, not even for a single day. Even the possibility of faking his own death was something he had prepared for long ago.

He hadn’t expected that even the heavens, once towering high above, would one day be buried beneath the earth.

Zuo Shihuan merely frowned slightly at the old man’s question, speaking with faint puzzlement: “Second Grandfather, I came to send my cousin on his final journey. Besides, wasn’t it you who gave the order back then?”

Second Grandfather’s arm trembled as he leaned on his cane, his face flushing red with fear and guilt as he shouted, “Nonsense! Have you ever treated me as your elder? You ungrateful wretch picked out of the trash heap—you’ve ruined my entire family! You’ll suffer retribution sooner or later!”

Zuo Shihuan’s gaze turned cold. “Do you need me to help you remember, Second Grandfather? It was you who pushed Cousin out to take the blame. It was you who sent your own son to prison. If you wish to see your son again, you could confess your crimes yourself—perhaps the prison would take pity on your age and allow you to live out your days peacefully in a nursing home.”

That, too, was Zuo Shihuan’s last act of mercy — allowing a man who had tried to obstruct and even kill him more than once to still grow old and die in comfort.

Upon hearing this, his uncle’s wife stopped crying and immediately asked, “Is that true? If Father-in-law admits his crimes, you’ll let us go?”

Zuo Shihuan had no reason to lie, so he nodded coolly.

At once, his aunt fell to her knees before Second Grandfather, pleading through tears: “Father, please confess! Our family’s already as good as broken apart. My son—your grandson—is gone. At least let my husband come out of prison, so he can see Shizhan one last time!”

The other members of the branch family turned their eyes toward the old man too, as if hoping he would confess soon and make their lives easier.

But Second Grandfather’s face went dark. If he entered the “nursing home” arranged by Zuo Shihuan, how would that be any different from prison? His life and death would be at Zuo Shihuan’s mercy, his every breath dictated by him.

So he refused, shouting hoarsely, “There’s no such thing! You’d rather believe that cold-blooded outsider than me?!”

His daughter-in-law suddenly screamed, shoving the old man with the cane to the ground, hysterically shrieking about all the shameful things he had done in secret. Enraged, the old man struck back, and the two of them tumbled together. Other family members tried to pull them apart, but soon they too began quarreling — voices rising, accusations flying, curses and blows exchanged until the entire funeral descended into chaos.

No one knew who knocked the coffin lid off. The weather was damp and cold, the drizzle soaking the red coffin until its color deepened — but nobody cared anymore.

Frowning, Zuo Shihuan gestured for his bodyguards to stop them and restore order to the ceremony. Then he turned and left that place — a place uglier, filthier than the mud after rain, tainted by greed and decay.

But even upon returning to the Zuo family residence…

Zuo Shihuan’s eyes chilled.

It was little better than when he had first arrived — when cold, mocking faces had looked at him like a clown dragged out of the slums to put on a show, laughing at how he didn’t know proper manners or what foie gras even was.

At least now, no one dared to laugh in front of him.

Yet it still wasn’t enough — far from enough. To reach his goal, there was still a long road ahead. At the very least…

At the very least, he would no longer care about anyone’s departure. No one — whoever they were — would ever again influence or hinder his steps forward. He would walk, steady and resolute, upon the bright road that others could only look up to.

If only he could truly forget that person.

Zuo Shihuan’s hand clenched tight, a flicker of cold hatred flashing through his light brown eyes. His brows furrowed again and again as he tried to suppress the lingering shadow in his mind — the one who had long since left the Federation’s capital, yet whose ghost still haunted him endlessly.

So that was it? Leaving without even leaving him the chance of a chance encounter in the vast sea of people?

Zuo Shihuan’s face darkened, the corner of his lips twisting into a bitter, self-mocking smile.

Having too good a memory really was a curse.

But sooner or later, he would forget that person — forget the name, too. He would return to the proper path, become a normal Alpha who would marry, build a family, have children.

Only before that, he needed a fiancée — a shield.

For now, he couldn’t yet guarantee the safety of a wife and children. He didn’t dare approach any Omega lightly. And since Yu Lizhu had stepped willingly into the stormy whirlpool that was the Zuo family, whether that was misfortune or fate, she had indeed solved a problem for him.

So he needed the existence of a false fiancée — and he needed Yu Lizhu to secure her footing within the Zuo household.

Zuo Shihuan’s deep gaze turned toward the honest, pure-hearted maid. Her eyes were bright with simple joy, and she was already one of the candidates he had considered for Yu Lizhu’s attendants.

His eyes darkened, yet he smiled faintly. “My fiancée, Yu Lizhu, also enjoys flower arranging. When she comes to the Zuo residence, could I trouble you to look after her?”

The maid, clutching a flower vase, startled and stammered, “H-how could I ever take care of Miss Yu? Young Master, you flatter me too much!”

How could she possibly be needed to “look after” Miss Yu — the woman who might become the future mistress of the Zuo family? When Miss Yu had once visited the estate, even the most senior housekeepers had surrounded her attentively. Still, being acknowledged personally by the Young Master filled the maid with joy.

Zuo Shihuan insisted gently, “Why don’t I transfer you to her side? You’re about the same age — when she arrives, you’ll be there to accompany her, someone familiar with the household. It’ll put me at ease. As for your pay, I’ll raise it to the level of a head maid and give you a private room.”

Unable to refuse, the maid’s cheeks flushed as she smiled shyly. “Thank you, Young Master Zuo Shihuan, for your trust. I’ll do my best to help Miss Yu.”

Zuo Shihuan’s smile deepened. “That’s good. Let me thank you in advance on her behalf.”

The maid’s face turned crimson. Gathering her courage, she added, “You’re very welcome. I truly wish you and Miss Yu a happy, blissful life together!”

Happy?

With a fake fiancée?

Zuo Shihuan’s eyes went blank for a moment. After a half-second pause, he forced out a shallow smile — one that faded almost instantly, leaving only quiet indifference in his gaze.

A cold numbness spread slowly from his fingertips.

It felt as if what shone down on him was not warm sunlight, but a frigid wind, the sound of it howling like mocking laughter beside his ear.

In the end Zuo Shihuan clenched his fist and said coldly, “I will.”

—He’s happy now.

—Happier than that Beta from the slums who nearly died in the hospital back then. Only now he’s a little greedier — he wants more.

***

After saying goodbye to the two maids,

Butler Lin still couldn’t quite figure it out, so he asked, “Young Master Zuo Shihuan, that maid just now — was there something special about her? From what I know she wasn’t particularly outstanding.”

Butler Lin had seen the maid who held the vase: just an ordinary Beta maid, so unremarkable within the Zuo household that she hardly left an impression. Some housekeepers even said she wasn’t very quick-witted, a bit simple and clumsy — though she was fine with heavy, physical chores.

But Butler Lin couldn’t understand why the busy Young Master would take the time to invite her. Perhaps the Young Master knew information the rest didn’t; maybe Lin had simply overlooked something.

Young Master Zuo must be wise and capable, so if there was a problem it must be with himself.

Butler Lin suddenly grew serious, his brows knit tight as he kept replaying what he might have missed. The more he thought, the more convinced he became that the maid was utterly ordinary, until his face wore an expression of exaggerated worry.

Zuo Shihuan replied calmly, “No special reason. On the contrary, she’s just a hardworking, honest, ordinary maid.”

Butler Lin widened his eyes. “Then why—”

Why indeed?

Zuo Shihuan’s eyes darkened with meaning. Of course there was a reason for what he’d done. Not long after the engagement banquet, Yu Lizhu would be moving into the Zuo residence.

Although the formal wedding would require long preparations — half a year or a year, with prominent guests across the Federation and scheduling to accommodate powerful figures — those were for show. The engagement itself would publicly seal the Zuo–Yu match, and after that Yu Lizhu would live at the Zuo household with him.

That would mean countless eyes watching the pair — a fake fiancée and fiancé under scrutiny.

No matter how convincingly they acted married, Zuo Shihuan could not share a room with an Omega; nor did he wish to get close to any Omega. And Yu Lizhu already had a real Alpha boyfriend. So Zuo Shihuan had carefully chosen the maid who would be assigned to Yu Lizhu.

He deliberately avoided head housekeepers with experience, avoided clever, quick-minded servants, and passed over gossipers who would report everything. What remained were obedient, kind, honest maids — those whom outsiders might dismiss as dull and inarticulate.

Those were the “talents” Zuo Shihuan truly wanted.

Of course, Butler Lin didn’t yet know that Zuo Shihuan and Yu Lizhu were to be a sham engagement.

Zuo Shihuan’s glance was meaningful; he smiled faintly and said, “No special reason, perhaps she simply suited my taste. You can think about it some more.”

Butler Lin paused.

Zuo Shihuan didn’t want to linger any longer in the increasingly cold garden, and with a frown said to Butler Lin at his side, “Let’s go back.”

Butler Lin had no time to dwell on it and answered promptly, “Yes, Young Master Zuo Shihuan.”

As Butler Lin walked away, he stole a glance at Zuo Shihuan’s expressionless face. The garden path they walked was full of bright, lively little flowers and grass — like childlike crayon drawings of cheerful blossoms. The warm sunlight softly spread, inviting one into a restful dream.

But Zuo Shihuan was out of place beneath that warm sun. His cold, distant expression was like an iceberg that couldn’t melt; his light-brown eyes silently radiated chill and detachment.

Though Butler Lin walked beside him and the Zuo estate bustled with comings and goings, Young Master Zuo walked alone, aloof, like a solitary figure on a one-way street.

Butler Lin had a vague sense that the Young Master — who seemed to possess everything — was not truly happy.

Just as Butler Lin fell into thought, a commotion erupted ahead: noisy shouting, the sound of hurried running, and something rustling in the grass…

“What’s all the noise?” Zuo Shihuan asked, puzzled.

“I’ll go check at once,” Butler Lin replied, though he thought it might be some mischievous young master who’d let the dogs loose.

Zuo Shihuan’s brow tightened; his expression grew stern. “No need. Maybe someone’s pet has been set loose. I’ll deal with them later.”

“Yes,” Butler Lin answered, lowering his head.

Judging by Zuo Shihuan’s severe look, it was unclear whether he meant to discipline the pets — or their owners.

Zuo Shihuan decided not to delay and planned to take another path.

But before he could detour, the grass ahead rustled with the scurrying of a small animal.

Butler Lin stepped forward protectively — after all, the Zuo estate kept not only dogs but some rare and potentially dangerous large animals.

Zuo Shihuan halted. The light-brown of his eyes turned ice-cold; expressionless, he waited to see what would appear next.

Suddenly, a small black shape burst from the grass — a quick, fleeing figure, dashing like a little wild boar.

On closer inspection,

Zuo Shihuan’s pupils trembled; his face showed a rare look of stunned bewilderment.