There was still some time before the ring exchange ceremony.
In the lounge—
Having left the noisy banquet hall behind, Zuo Shihuan sat on the sofa casually flipping through a magazine. The warm sunlight streamed through the window, glinting off his long lashes. His light brown eyes shimmered faintly with gold, lending a gentle glow to his refined white tailcoat. His bearing was elegant and noble.
He was waiting for the other half of the engagement pair to appear.
Zuo Shihuan had escaped the stylists’ hands earlier than Yu Lizhu, leaving her to face an army of makeup artists alone. For such an important part of the ceremony, she had to change into a more formal wedding gown—beautiful but elaborate, and time-consuming to put on.
The waiting time was a bit too long.
After finishing a magazine to pass the time, Zuo Shihuan lost interest. He closed his eyes, resting one hand against his forehead, breathing slowly in the stillness where only the faint sound of wind outside and his own breathing could be heard.
He seemed on the verge of dozing off.
But after a while—
Zuo Shihuan opened his eyes again, his light brown gaze darkening little by little.
No matter how quiet it was, he couldn’t fall asleep.
Each time he closed his eyes, it felt as if he couldn’t breathe—the air seemed thick and stifling, as if the sky outside were overcast and heavy with clouds, the sluggish atmosphere pressing down on his chest.
But when he looked out the window, it was bright and sunny.
Even the windows were open.
He couldn’t even find an excuse for his sleeplessness.
Lowering his gaze quietly, Zuo Shihuan rested his hand on the magazine on his knees, his eyes unfocused as he stared ahead, letting his thoughts empty while time trickled by.
His hand slowly clenched.
Frowning, his expression cool, Zuo Shihuan reached for the red wine on the table, pulled out the cork, and poured himself a glass.
He stared at the rippling red liquid in the glass.
After a brief pause, he frowned again and took a drink.
There was no so-called aftertaste.
Only bitterness—bitter like grapes left to rot—and yet, that numbing bitterness seemed to dull his nerves, prompting him to take another sip, and another.
In the end, his eyes were rimmed red, but his mind was far too clear.
Zuo Shihuan stared numbly at the empty wineglass, then let it fall back onto the table with a thud. Tilting his head against the sofa, his light brown eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, unfocused and hollow.
Once again, only suffocating silence surrounded him.
He told himself he was used to it—but it was too quiet. So quiet he could hear every uneven beat of his own restless heart, laid bare with nowhere to hide.
He frowned, enduring it. Beneath the calm and strength of his eyes, a faint ripple stirred. He turned his head to look out the window at the spring blossoms, watching absently for a while.
And then, he thought he saw the faint illusion of a child leaning against the windowsill.
When he was little, he used to be locked up at home, spending his days like that—leaning on the windowsill, quietly watching car after car go by. He would smile only when he saw his mother step out of a fancy sedan.
But in the end, no one ever came back.
That lonely child who waited at the window for his mother grew up—and came to understand one thing:
The more you wait, the less likely what you want will come.
The more you chase, the further it slips away.
Zuo Shihuan let out a faint, self-mocking smile, slowly closing his eyes again, hiding that trace of loneliness and fragility that surfaced only when no one was around.
A knock suddenly sounded.
It was Butler Lin, coming in to report something—but seeing Zuo Shihuan apparently resting with his eyes closed, he immediately said apologetically, “My apologies, Young Master Zuo—did I wake you?”
Quite the opposite.
It was fortunate someone came to interrupt.
Zuo Shihuan lifted his gaze. “No. What is it, Butler Lin?”
Butler Lin replied, “Young Master Zuo, I just received word that Dr. Ji Zhaohe and his family have arrived. I came to inform you.”
Zuo Shihuan paused, then said calmly, “I understand. Is Yu Lizhu ready yet?”
The butler shook his head. “Miss Yu isn’t ready—probably another twenty minutes.”
Zuo Shihuan sighed, closed the magazine on his lap, set it back on the table, and stood. “Since there’s still time, I’ll go out for a walk. I’ll be back shortly.”
Butler Lin started to follow, but was immediately stopped by a curt voice.
“No need to follow.”
He froze, unsure what to do, staring after the young master.
Zuo Shihuan seemed to realize he’d spoken too sharply. Rubbing his brow, he softened his tone. “I just feel a bit stuffy indoors. I’ll walk around alone—it’s fine. You can go about your work.”
The butler bowed slightly. “Understood, Young Master Zuo.”
But his gaze followed Zuo Shihuan’s retreating figure.
He watched him walk farther and farther away from the direction of the banquet hall—past the layers of security—leaving the building entirely and heading toward the hotel’s west-side garden.
When the figure finally disappeared from sight, the butler couldn’t help worrying—had he gone too far?
***
Hotel Back Garden.
Gu Heng slipped in unnoticed. When he saw that the surveillance signal had vanished, he didn’t seem to care, strolling leisurely through the garden.
It seemed some major figure was holding a wedding at the Federation Hotel today—numerous high-ranking officials were present, and the security was exceptionally tight. Most of the hotel staff were stationed inside the central building, and not even a gardener could be seen in the rear garden.
Many patrol squads circled the main central structure, numbering easily in the hundreds.
Like a swarm of bees enclosing a hive—no way in.
Even Gu Heng found it troublesome.
He knew that the person behind everything was likely among the guests at this very wedding, but he had come too suddenly, without enough preparation to infiltrate properly.
He had only planned to probe the situation—not risk exposure. He wasn’t foolish enough to face the entire Federation alone.
Besides, his ally hadn’t arrived yet.
“Your Highness,” his subordinate reported, “I interrogated the group that ambushed us, but they know very little. They’re just hired mercenaries—paid to do the job, not part of the inner organization. They didn’t know who we were, only that they were ordered to capture two people. They didn’t expect to be captured themselves.”
“And one more thing—the Federation Hotel’s tracking signal has disappeared. That mysterious person has some counter-surveillance skills. They’ve probably sensed Your Highness approaching and may take countermeasures. I also just received word: another batch of outer members has arrived at the hotel. Please be cautious, Your Highness.”
Ji Shenwen was speaking seriously through the communicator, reporting the mission’s progress to Gu Heng on the other end. At his feet, seven or eight people were tied up, their hands and feet bound.
“I know,” Gu Heng replied lazily. “Just in time—I’ve been waiting for them to come. I’ve thought of something fun to do.”
A cold glint flashed through his elegant black eyes, and the corner of his lips curved into a mocking smile. He casually tossed the communicator taken from their pursuers, waiting for the unsuspecting prey to come running right into his trap.
He had been having trouble getting into that heavily guarded building anyway—so why not use these people to scout the path for him? And if they could serve as bait to draw out the mysterious figure behind the scenes, even better.
Even if that person didn’t show up, the hotel’s own tight security would catch these hapless intruders. That alone would give the hidden mastermind a serious headache. Ideally, the people getting married today would be influential within the Federation—the bigger the commotion, the better.
The higher their status, the more cautious and paranoid they’d be. They’d turn the place upside down investigating the intruders, saving Gu Heng the trouble of doing it himself.
Then, Gu Heng deliberately reversed tactics. He walked openly in a spot easy to be seen by the prey, even considerately carrying the communicator they used for contact and tracking—just waiting for them to come find him.
Before long, he heard a jumble of hurried footsteps approaching.
Growing impatient, Gu Heng arched a brow slightly and, pretending to be fleeing, stepped out from behind a thick clump of trees. His boot struck the ground, scattering the pink rose petals carpeting the garden.
“Achoo—!”
He wrinkled his nose and sneezed.
The sound immediately caught the pursuers’ attention.
“He’s over here! Hurry!”
“Don’t think you can run! We’ve got you!”
Gu Heng, of course, ignored them completely. He kept running, frowning and pressing his nose, half-choked by the overwhelming scent of flowers that blanketed the massive rear garden of the Federation Hotel. His nonexistent pollen allergy was practically being forced into existence.
Who on earth was getting married today, and why did they need such a ridiculous display?
He decided that the greatest obstacle today wasn’t the mysterious figure behind everything, nor the group of brainless lackeys chasing him—it was this endless sea of rose petals. Wherever he looked, soft pink blossoms rippled like waves whenever the wind blew.
And that never-ending fragrance—
For an S-class Alpha like Gu Heng, whose sense of smell was preternaturally sharp, the cloying rose scent was torture. He had to hold his breath just to keep moving.
He swore that once this mission was over, he’d have every flower in the Empire’s Palace ripped out by the roots. He never wanted to smell another bloom again—especially this cursed kind that had instantly become his most hated.
As he ran, Gu Heng ground his heel viciously into the petals underfoot, crushing them into the dirt until they disappeared into muddy smears.
“D*mn it, how is he so fast!”
“Where’d he go—oh, there! After him!”
“Stop running!”
Gu Heng found their shouts unbearably dull. He even closed his eyes as he ran, deliberately slowing down so they could catch up. If they lost him now, his whole plan would fall apart.
Even blindfolded, he could run unimpeded. With his S-class Alpha senses guiding him, he moved through the trees and flowerbeds without bumping into a thing.
The Federation Hotel’s garden was enormous—but it still had an end.
He knew from the map: at the western edge stood a domed, cream-colored European-style pavilion—a sort of glass conservatory. Once he crossed through it and passed the long corridor beyond, he would reach the central main building—the wedding hall.
Gradually, Gu Heng slowed down.
The soft, petal-strewn earth beneath his boots turned to the firm surface of marble tiles. He knew he had reached the end of the garden.
The disordered footsteps behind him were still some distance away.
With a sigh of resignation, Gu Heng lifted his gaze toward the domed pavilion ahead—and suddenly, his pupils contracted sharply.
He saw someone who absolutely shouldn’t have been there.
A man stood high above, head slightly lowered. Dressed in an elegant, tailored white tailcoat, he seemed to be quietly admiring the garden. His light brown eyes were calm and emotionless, reflecting nothing at all.
Gu Heng recognized him at once.
But what he couldn’t understand—was why Zuo Shihuan was here.
For an instant, Gu Heng’s mind went blank. The world around him seemed to blur and fade away. His senses, normally so sharp, dulled to nothing. All he could see was Zuo Shihuan standing on that upper terrace.
He stared fixedly, lips parting instinctively to speak—but in the end, he just stood frozen in place, the light in his dark eyes dimming, cooling.
Because Zuo Shihuan hadn’t noticed him.
The man continued to gaze distantly at the scenery, oblivious to the one watching him from below.
Quietly, Gu Heng stepped back into the shadows beneath the trees.
Head lowered, he hid himself in a dark corner, his black eyes locked on that distant figure. Deep within their depths, emotion surged and struggled—like a lantern overturned in a storm. Long-suppressed yearning and longing threatened to consume him, to turn him into some creature of the night.
He wanted to drag that aloof moon down from the sky—
To abandon reason, to step into the light—
To make that man he’d dreamed of for so long finally look down at him.
But instead, it was like this—
He was the clown, skulking in the dark, yearning for even a glance.
How ridiculous.
Even Gu Heng let out a bitter laugh at himself—for a mere Federation Alpha, he was actually hiding, cautious and restrained.
He, the Empire’s heir, had never stooped so low before.
The old, arrogant version of himself would’ve scoffed— “It’s just an Alpha. What’s the big deal?”
But now, that was impossible.
Gu Heng’s dark eyes were heavy with gloom. Leaning against the shade of a tree, he smoked one cigarette after another until his throat turned dry and hoarse, the acrid smoke stinging his eyes red.
He knew that all it would take was a single step forward—just one—and he could see Zuo Shihuan again.
But he also knew that it was a step he could never take.
The one with the least right to see Zuo Shihuan was him. He must not disturb the calm, peaceful life Zuo Shihuan had now. It was enough just to leave quietly—without anyone knowing.
At least he knew that Zuo Shihuan was doing well. That alone was enough.
He had never planned to see Zuo Shihuan again. Meeting him today was already an unexpected surprise. Seeing him a few more times wouldn’t change anything—their paths would eventually diverge, growing farther and farther apart.
He knew that all too well.
Gu Heng’s black eyes darkened, the clarity of his awareness cutting sharp and cruel. He crushed the glowing tip of his cigarette and turned away as if nothing had happened.
But he hadn’t gone far.
His deep eyes flickered, and his fist clenched tightly at his side. Just before leaving, he couldn’t help but turn back for one last glance.
Today, Zuo Shihuan was wearing a white suit.
His soft black hair was brushed up, revealing clean, handsome features. The white suit accentuated his slender waist; his pale pink lips were pressed lightly together, elegant and refined like a prince from a fairytale.
He was dazzling—almost luminous.
Gu Heng’s breath caught, unable to look away.
Compared to his usual dark, distant attire, he looked different today—perhaps because he was dressed formally as a wedding guest.
Gu Heng’s lips pressed tight. His chest ached. He looked one more time.
…So beautiful.
…He had never seen him in white before. This was the first and only time. That gentle, cultivated look must draw a lot of admiration—especially from the omegas at the banquet.
