After Being Deceived, I Married Someone Else and Had Children Chapter 45

The little “wild boar” that had darted out had two large, bright black eyes. Its plump pale face was smeared with dust and dirt; its ten short, rounded fingers were likewise dirty. Its hair was tousled with grass and wildflowers stuck in it, and it even had a red apple clenched in its mouth.

Look more closely.

This was not a wild boar at all, but his half-sister — almost two years old — Zuo Shishu: the little sister who had once been mocked for having a Beta butler father, neglected in the Zuo household, whose very name had been given to her by Zuo Shihuan himself. Chubby and pale, she looked, in a teasing way, like a little pig.

Zuo Shihuan’s wary expression vanished. He rubbed his brow in mild exasperation, the corner of his lips curving into a faint, relaxed smile as his gaze swept around.

Strangely, the nanny who was always watching over his little sister was nowhere to be seen. Where had she gone?

He soon understood.

From the bushes burst a woman with disheveled hair, panting hard, hands on her knees as she gasped for breath — looking at first glance like a madwoman. Reaching toward the dirty little “wild boar,” she called out weakly between breaths:

“M-Miss, stop running! You’ve eaten too much already — no more apples!”

Ah… so that was the nanny.

Zuo Shihuan froze for a second, his eyes flickering slightly as he decided inwardly that he’d give this dutiful nanny a raise when they returned.

But the “little wild boar,” seeing the nanny who always nagged her catching up, realized her apple was in danger. Her round, dark eyes darted about, searching for a new escape route.

And then she spotted him — standing right in the middle of the path.

Not yet two years old, Zuo Shishu didn’t remember much. But this adult was different — gentle and familiar-looking, someone who came often to see her and take care of her.

Ever since he had appeared, her life had improved a lot. There were even more delicious things to eat.

The nanny would often show her this adult’s photo, again and again, teaching her to speak. Zuo Shishu would always stare curiously at the unmoving Zuo Shihuan in the photo, sensing he was somehow different.

The man in the picture looked cold — unapproachable.

But the Zuo Shihuan standing before her now was a completely different person — the one she knew.

A familiar scent.

Standing on the garden path, sunlight illuminated Zuo Shihuan’s face; the coldness faded away, and his light-brown eyes softened with warmth and gentleness. His thin lips lifted into a smile touched with warmth — even the little flowers in the grass seemed to glow brighter in the radiance of that smile.

The not-quite-two-year-old Zuo Shishu blinked her big eyes. Yes — this was the person she remembered.

She remembered being held by him, vaguely recalling the safe, cozy feeling of leaning on his broad, solid shoulder.

It was like after drinking warm milk, lying lazily on a soft blanket under the sun — stretching comfortably in that gentle, all-encompassing warmth.

Children are naturally sensitive to kindness and malice.

Zuo Shishu trusted that this person would never hurt her. So—

Her round eyes lit up. It would be him!

On the other side—

Watching the exhausted, panting nanny and the still-energetic “little wild boar” of a sister, Zuo Shihuan hesitated over whether to help.

Before he could make up his mind, the little wild boar’s eyes brightened, and she suddenly dashed straight toward him, her tiny legs moving surprisingly fast.

Zuo Shihuan immediately sensed danger. His brows furrowed as he saw the dirty, mud-smeared little sister — Zuo Shishu — racing toward him.

A wave of dread shot through him — his obsession with cleanliness flared. His heart gave a jolt, and he instinctively took a step back, eyes darting as if to flee.

Even when facing a wild beast, he’d never been this nervous.

Then, in a crisp, childish voice, the little wild boar skidded to a stop before him, round eyes shining as she called out, “Brother—!”

Zuo Shihuan froze mid-step, and sure enough, was immediately hugged around the leg by a little mud-covered wild boar. Mud splattered across his tailored, high-end suit trousers.

The tiny wild boar at his feet had no idea that just the cost of those trousers could buy her a lifetime’s worth of apples.

Zuo Shihuan sighed helplessly, but his lips curved upward despite himself. Resigned, he picked up his little wild boar sister. Since his suit was already dirty, he might as well go all the way.

In his arms, she wriggled around until she found the most comfortable position, smearing mud on the once-clean white collar of his suit, happily crunching into her apple with crisp “ka-ka” bites.

Zuo Shihuan’s eyes softened. Smiling wryly, he said, “At this rate, you’ll have to work for me your whole life to pay it back.”

The little, clueless Zuo Shishu stopped chewing her apple, her big eyes round and bright. Not understanding what the adult meant, she still offered him her hard-won apple and called out in her crisp, tender voice, “Brother—Brother—!”

Zuo Shihuan was a little moved, though he didn’t dare touch the dirty apple in her hand — much less take it.

But when he saw those clear, innocent eyes full of trust, and realized that this greedy little thing was still willing to share half her apple with him, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

After some thought, he decided that spoiling their sibling bond over something like this… was better left for someone else to handle.

Just then, the nanny, now recovered, ran over. Seeing the little miss in Zuo Shihuan’s arms, she froze for a moment, then exclaimed in panic, “Thank you, Young Master Zuo Shihuan, for catching the young miss! I’ll take her back right away.”

As she reached out to retrieve the peacefully apple-eating Zuo Shishu — her chubby, snow-pale cheeks puffed up adorably like a cartoon character —

Zuo Shihuan hesitated and turned slightly aside. “No need. She’s rather heavy; I’ll carry her myself. But bring her a clean apple instead.”

The nanny hesitated. “Young Master Zuo Shihuan, the young miss has already eaten quite a lot.”

Zuo Shihuan replied, “It’s just one apple. A little extra fruit is good for a child.”

But the nanny looked troubled. “Young Master, the young miss already drank two bottles of milk and ate a small bowl of egg custard. That’s nearly an adult’s portion. I only meant to give her a small slice of apple, but she grabbed the whole thing and ran off. Even the family doctor said she’s a little overweight and should go on a diet…”

At the word “diet,” the previously content Zuo Shishu’s eyes went wide. She looked up at Zuo Shihuan in alarm, clutching his sleeve and crying anxiously, “Brother—Brother—!”

The nanny was even more shocked. “When did the young miss learn to talk? This is the first time I’ve ever heard her call anyone!”

For Miss Zuo Shishu was a pitiful child. Her biological father was a Beta butler from another family — plump and plain-looking — which had made Master Zuo Zoujian a target of ridicule among the upper class. As a result, everyone in the Zuo household assumed that the master didn’t like the young miss at all.

In the Zuo household, where Zuo Shishu had neither her birth mother nor father to care for her, the only person related to her by blood — her father — acted like a hands-off shopkeeper, indifferent and neglectful. Even though she was technically the esteemed young lady of the Zuo family, within that snobbish household she was still at the bottom of the ladder, often bullied and ignored.

If it hadn’t been for the kind-hearted eldest young master, Zuo Shihuan, the nanny would still have had to wait from morning till night just to ask the kitchen for a bowl of egg custard for her always-hungry little miss — and sometimes, they’d even forget altogether.

Because of Young Master Zuo Shihuan’s attention and care, some of the brothers and sisters who used to ignore Miss Zuo Shishu started to notice this once invisible child. A few of the kinder young masters and young ladies even began helping her on their own — though, of course, not all of them were without ulterior motives. Still, compared to before, life for the nanny had become much easier.

So, whenever she had free time, the nanny would hold Miss Zuo Shishu in her arms and show her pictures of Young Master Zuo Shihuan, teaching her to remember and feel grateful toward her half-brother.

At least by clinging to a reliable “big thigh,” the girl wouldn’t have to go back to being a forgotten nobody — after all, the nanny couldn’t stay by Miss Zuo Shishu’s side forever.

Unexpectedly, after seeing and hearing his name every day, the first words Miss Zuo Shishu ever spoke after being born weren’t “Papa” or “Mama,” but “Brother,” calling out for Young Master Zuo Shihuan.

And truly, compared to her negligent father, it was indeed Young Master Zuo Shihuan who treated her better.

The nanny looked at the innocent little girl gnawing on her apple, feeling gratified. Though the child was mischievous and had a big appetite, she still instinctively knew who truly cared for her.

Zuo Shihuan froze for a moment, quickly understanding what the nanny meant. He had never thought that in the eyes of little Zuo Shishu — so young and unaware — he would be such a special existence.

Compared to her absent father, the first word his little wild-boar sister ever said after she was born had been “Brother.”

Perhaps in her small and incomplete world, this brother meant more to her than her own parents.

Zuo Shihuan suddenly felt a complicated, aching warmth rise in his chest — a feeling too layered to describe. As someone who had also been neglected and abandoned by his parents, he could fully understand that helpless sorrow — that heartache like a hole carved into one’s chest.

At the same time, he was thankful that his little wild-boar sister was still too young to comprehend such pain, relying on him purely by instinct — trusting him completely, her half-brother.

Those round, dark eyes seemed as if they could wash and heal the soul itself. That pure, unreserved trust made Zuo Shihuan feel as though a small, warm hand had wrapped around his heart — like a handful of sunlight tucked against his chest, soft and glowing.

Without realizing it, Zuo Shihuan smiled — a real, tender smile. Even his light brown eyes shimmered with genuine warmth and joy. He hugged his little wild-boar sister’s soft, round cheeks and gave her an affectionate kiss.

The little wild-boar sister was startled — she stopped eating her apple and stared wide-eyed at him in confusion, curious what the adult was doing, then called out again, “Bro—ther—!”

That was the only word Zuo Shishu knew how to say — nothing more.

But Zuo Shihuan still felt deeply moved. His usually reserved, elegant face softened with a sincere smile as he gently asked, “What else do you want to eat? Brother will tell the kitchen to make it for you.”

“Cough, cough—”

The long-ignored nanny finally interjected, her tone faint and helpless: “Young Master Zuo Shihuan, Miss has eaten quite enough already. We shouldn’t spoil her. She ought to eat less — and maybe lose a little weight.”

Zuo Shihuan looked away awkwardly. “Actually, she’s not that chubby.”

But in truth, his little wild-boar sister’s belly was round and full — so much that her clothes couldn’t quite cover it, revealing a small strip of plump waist.

The nanny: “…”

If she didn’t have eyes, she might have believed him.

The nanny sighed, “Forgive me, Young Master Zuo Shihuan, but the miss really does need to cut back. And that dirty apple — she can’t eat it.”

After saying so, she took the apple away.

The little wild-boar sister froze. Staring at her now-empty hands, she looked up at Zuo Shihuan with heartbreak in her dark eyes, voice trembling as she called out, “Bro—ther—!”

Zuo Shihuan, already soft-hearted toward children, was completely undone. Unable to resist, he asked, “Can’t she at least have one more bite…?”

The nanny’s face remained blank but firm. “I’m sorry, Young Master Zuo Shihuan. The family doctor insists she must eat less. We have to consider her health.”

Zuo Shihuan clenched his fists, his brows tightening — then finally gave up with a sigh. “All right… take it, then.”

He tilted his head upward slightly, expression heavy with guilt, unable to meet those clear, pitiful, tear-filled eyes mourning the loss of an apple.

The nanny stood speechless.

Really now?

The siblings — one about to cry, the other looking like the world was ending.

All because she’d taken away a dirty apple — and somehow she’d been made to look like the villain.

Expression flat, the nanny said, “In a moment, I’ll take Miss to change clothes and wash the mud off her. We won’t trouble you further, Young Master Zuo Shihuan.”

Zuo Shihuan suddenly remembered that he too was covered in mud and would need to change, so he nodded and said, holding the heavy little girl in his arms, “I’ll carry her — I need to head back too.”

Just as they neared the gates of the Zuo residence, they happened to run into two familiar faces.

Zuo Shicong, dressed in his school uniform and sneakers, holding his bag in one hand, greeted him cheerfully, “Good morning, Brother Shihuan!”

Beside him, Zuo Shixin looked tense and reserved — also in the Federation Middle School uniform, standing straight as a pine tree with a schoolbag on both shoulders and silver-rimmed glasses that made him look like a model student.

Unlike the naturally outgoing Zuo Shicong, Zuo Shixin was polite and proper before the calm, dignified Zuo Shihuan. “Good morning, Brother Shihuan,” he greeted respectfully.

Zuo Shihuan had a good impression of these two Beta brothers, so he smiled kindly and asked, “Good morning. Have you two been managing all right lately?”

Zuo Shicong opened his mouth to answer, but Zuo Shixin immediately clamped a hand over his mouth, forcing out a smile as he said, “No! No trouble at all! Don’t worry, Brother Shihuan — everything’s great at school!”

He remembered the last time Zuo Shicong had blurted out something he shouldn’t, which had caused their father, Zuo Zoujian, to show up at parent-teacher day — and it had been an absolute disaster…

Zuo Shixin’s face looked a little pale, his stomach aching — the past was best left unremembered.

So this time, he decided he couldn’t let Zuo Shicong run his mouth again. Who knew what kind of trouble he’d stir up next!

Zuo Shicong pried away the hand covering his mouth, frowning in irritation. “What are you doing? I have something I want to say to Brother Shihuan!”

Then he turned, flashing Zuo Shihuan a bright, sunny smile.

“Brother Shihuan, I made it to the finals of the Alliance High School Basketball Tournament! I wanted to ask if you’d come watch my game. There’s even a good chance I’ll get a guaranteed athletic admission to the Federation Academy!”

Zuo Shicong’s eyes sparkled, like a golden retriever wagging its tail, waiting to be praised.

Actually, Zuo Shihuan already knew all this. But his expression remained gentle, and he didn’t hold back his praise. “That’s great. I’ll make sure to come watch your match and cheer you on.”

Zuo Shicong instantly burst out in joy. “Yay!”

Beside him, Zuo Shixin stayed silent, his gaze filled with admiration as he looked toward Zuo Shihuan. Deep inside, he envied how easily Zuo Shicong could talk and laugh with Shihuan without getting nervous. His lips moved slightly, then pressed together again.

Zuo Shicong caught the look. He’d long known how awkward this guy could be — clearly idolizing and watching Brother Shihuan all the time, yet clamming up like a turtle the moment he faced him.

With a helpless raise of his brows, Zuo Shicong nudged Zuo Shixin’s back with his elbow, pushing him forward. “Brother Shihuan, Zuo Shixin also has something he wants to tell you!”

At that instant, Zuo Shixin’s heart skipped a beat. His eyes widened as they met Zuo Shihuan’s curious gaze, and his throat tightened with nerves.

Zuo Shihuan asked, “Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

With no way to back out, Zuo Shixin gathered his courage, looked up nervously, and said, “I—I also made it to the finals of a mecha research competition… and I won the championship.”

Seeing his tension, Zuo Shihuan reached out to ruffle his hair encouragingly. “Not bad. Keep up the good work.”

Feeling the warmth of that hand on his head, Zuo Shixin froze for a moment, then couldn’t help but smile. “It’s thanks to you too, Brother Shihuan. You patiently explained those problems to me, and I learned them quickly.”

Zuo Shihuan had only helped him once — that day, when he’d seen Zuo Shixin stuck and frustrated over his assignments in the living room, he’d been curious and taught him the solution in passing.

It hadn’t been anything major, but the fact that someone remembered it and felt grateful made Zuo Shihuan’s mood soften pleasantly.

The corner of his mouth curved faintly. “It’s still your own hard work that matters.”

Zuo Shixin’s eyes lit up, his cheeks tinged with red. “I just hope that one day, I can be of help to you, Brother Shihuan. Your knowledge of mechas is as deep as the ocean. When I showed my competition teacher the solutions you gave me — those teachers all came from top mecha programs — they were full of praise.”

“If you weren’t bound to inherit the family business, Brother Shihuan, every mecha professor would fight to have you as their student…”

Zuo Shihuan’s eyes paused for a moment, then softened into a calm, shallow smile. “You should go study that mecha program in the future. But remember — Blue Eagle Group’s Mecha Research Division won’t go easy on anyone. Even as a child of the Zuo family, there won’t be any favoritism.”

Zuo Shixin’s expression turned firm and confident. “Don’t worry, I’ll get in with my own ability.”

Zuo Shihuan smiled, encouragingly. “Then I’ll be waiting for the day you come help me.”

After chatting a bit longer, the two boys in their school uniforms — still just students — had to go, or they’d be late.

Zuo Shicong said his goodbyes with cheerful enthusiasm. “Brother Shihuan, we’ll head off first! Goodbye, Sister Shishu!”

Zuo Shixin bowed slightly, reluctant to leave this rare moment of conversation with Shihuan, but the elite school’s rules were strict — no one was allowed to break them.

“Brother Shihuan, I look forward to our next conversation.” He bowed earnestly in farewell.

Noticing the little sister in Shihuan’s arms — clearly cherished and doted on — Zuo Shixin also made a note to remember her, planning to look after her whenever he could.

He gave Zuo Shishu a gentle smile. “See you next time, Sister Shishu.”

The little girl, not yet two years old, responded adorably by lifting her chubby hand and letting out a soft “Ah!”

She was so cute that even Zuo Shihuan couldn’t help but laugh. His light brown eyes gleamed with brightness; his thin lips curved, and his laughter rang clear and pleasant.

Butler Lin quietly watched, feeling genuinely happy that the young master Zuo Shihuan could finally laugh from the heart.

***

In the room.

The sound of running water came from the bathroom.

Zuo Shihuan stood under the showerhead for a long time. He brushed back his wet black hair, revealing sharp, chiseled features and eyes filled with cold stillness and depth.

Zuo Shixin’s words from earlier lingered in his mind.

Mecha studies?

It had once been the subject he most wanted to pursue. Even later, when he entered the Federation Academy, he could only choose mecha engineering and repair — a compromise.

Compared to mecha design, which was a more advanced and difficult field that trained designers of the machines themselves, the repair program was much simpler — it trained workers who could read blueprints and perform maintenance.

Back then, Zuo Shihuan’s grades had been good enough to get into the top mecha design program, but the tuition was far too expensive. Even fighting illegal matches for money hadn’t been nearly enough, so he’d had to settle for the lesser choice.

Privately, though, he never gave up. He often went to the library to study mecha design theory, and even slipped into design classes to listen.

He had his own admired mecha master — and a dream: that one day, he would design a mecha surpassing even the S-class.

Even though he wasn’t an Alpha, he dreamed that his creation would one day be piloted by an excellent Alpha warrior, soaring among the stars.

But now…

He had become an unexpected Alpha himself.

Living in the Zuo family, he no longer had to worry about paying tuition for any program.

Yet, he was no longer that impoverished young Beta from the slums, who had only ever dreamed purely of building his own mecha.

Everything had been worn away by time.

That once young, passionate Beta who’d dreamed of the future was already a thing of the past.

Zuo Shihuan clenched his palms, letting the water stream down from his lashes, soaking his reddened eyes. He looked at the reflection in the glass — those sharp, deep eyes staring back at him.

He knew in his heart—

What remained now was only this Alpha before him, driven by ambition and the pursuit of power and fame.

***

He turned off the tap.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, Zuo Shihuan stepped out of the bathroom.

The moment he did, his communicator chimed.

He picked it up, the corners of his lips curving slightly. “Miss Yu, how come you have time to call me again?”

Yu Lizhu raised an intrigued brow.

Her instincts told her that Zuo Shihuan seemed to be in a better mood today — not like before, when after long hours of work, even his voice carried that cool, heavy seriousness.

But today she wasn’t calling just to poke at his good mood — though she was, admittedly, a little curious.

Yu Lizhu said, “Tonight at seven-thirty, there’s a charity auction at the museum hall. Dress however you like, but since you’ve agreed to come with me, don’t you dare stand me up.”

Zuo Shihuan frowned slightly. “Didn’t you just send a message earlier, with the time and location?”

Yu Lizhu’s almond-shaped eyes curved as she took a sip of her black tea. “Yes, I just wanted to confirm again. And besides, I heard some particularly interesting news.”

Zuo Shihuan replied with casual indifference, “Oh? What is it?”

Yu Lizhu smiled, pleased with herself. “Someone you’ll definitely want to see.”

Zuo Shihuan’s eyes paused; his brows furrowed. “Who?”

Yu Lizhu put on an air of mystery. “You’ll know when you get there.”