“Master Zuo, who’s the person beside you?”
A line of hotel security guards at the entrance looked suspiciously at the unfamiliar man who wasn’t on the guest list.
Gu Heng’s heart clenched. He turned instinctively toward Zuo Shihuan, a flicker of impossible hope rising within him—
He wanted to know what he was, in Zuo Shihuan’s eyes.
Zuo Shihuan replied coolly, “Just someone I know.”
In that instant, Gu Heng lowered his head, hiding the surge of hurt in his eyes. He dug his nails into his palm, using the sting of pain to suppress the helpless ache and humiliation threatening to overflow.
“Someone he knows?”
Just someone he knows?
He could have said that about any random passerby. Did that mean to Zuo Shihuan, he wasn’t even a friend?
Perhaps that was the truth.
After all, today was Zuo Shihuan’s engagement to someone else. Gu Heng hadn’t received any invitation, any notice at all—he had stumbled upon the hotel by accident and only then realized who was getting engaged.
Lowering his dark, shadowed eyes, Gu Heng’s brows knit tightly. His lips twisted into a bitter, self-mocking smile. Yet stubbornly, he still couldn’t tear his gaze away from the man before him.
Those deep, dark eyes—once intimidating—were now misted over with restrained sorrow, like a loyal hound abandoned by its master.
A proud creature reduced to following behind its owner, never stopping.
A towering figure chasing desperately after the one who left him.
To outsiders, he might look terrifying, like a wolf about to sink its fangs into the master who cast it away—
But one glance into his eyes told the truth: this was no feral beast, only a pitiful dog who had long since broken its fangs and claws, willingly tamed into a house pet. Even a scrap of leftovers would satisfy him—as long as he could still glimpse the back of the one he loved, forever anxious, forever yearning.
Even now, when the person most important to him casually brushed him off as someone insignificant on his own engagement day—
Gu Heng’s heart seized, his eyes burning red.
The once proud, arrogant Crown Prince of the Empire stood silent now, lips sealed as if locked, helpless and lost.
He swallowed every grievance, every shard of pride, and dared not show even the slightest trace of anger or complaint before Zuo Shihuan.
Afraid that Zuo Shihuan would throw him away early—
Afraid of hearing more hurtful words from his mouth—
Gu Heng simply chose to say nothing at all.
He let himself be pulled along, obedient, leaving his fate entirely in Zuo Shihuan’s hands.
They passed through layer after layer of hotel security checkpoints, until they finally stopped before a hotel room door.
Zuo Shihuan glanced at the room number and instructed the hotel staff to open it. A click sounded—the lock released, and the door swung open automatically.
He should have gone inside. But strangely, Zuo Shihuan didn’t move. After a moment’s hesitation, he turned his head to look at Gu Heng— his posture slumped, head bowed low, the strands of his dark hair falling obediently forward, that sharp, handsome face now somehow subdued and docile.
Zuo Shihuan’s eyes darkened slightly. He pressed his lips together, then suddenly turned away and strode off in the opposite direction.
Gu Heng froze for a second, then immediately followed, step for step, not daring to ask a single word.
He only dared to glance secretly at Zuo Shihuan’s profile— that cold, expressionless face, his gaze frosty as ice and fixed on his watch again and again, never once sparing him a look.
Gu Heng’s dark eyes dimmed. The feeling of being ignored… he was almost used to it by now.
Yet Zuo Shihuan’s every action— each subtle sign of tension— reminded Gu Heng painfully that he was stealing precious time from him: time Zuo Shihuan should have been spending with his guests, his family, and that faceless bride waiting for him at the engagement banquet.
Gu Heng had faced countless difficult missions before, but now, at the very first step, he felt cowardly— as if he had already tasted the bitterness of failure before even beginning.
He had no confidence left. All he could do was stall— drag out the time before Zuo Shihuan had to leave.
Like a cigarette burning to its end, the ash trembling but refusing to fall— tormenting him, yet he preferred the torment to letting go.
When they entered the elevator, the mirrored walls reflected two faces— one cold and composed, the other uneasy and downcast.
Zuo Shihuan lifted his gaze toward the glowing floor numbers; Gu Heng stared silently at the floor. Their shadows overlapped on the tiles, yet in the mirror, they looked like two strangers standing worlds apart.
Neither spoke.
The silence stretched until it nearly suffocated them.
“Would you finally behave,” Zuo Shihuan said suddenly, his voice calm and low, “if I locked you up somewhere?”
He didn’t even look at Gu Heng as he spoke—his cold gaze remained fixed on the elevator numbers rising upward, as if he weren’t the one who had just broken the silence.
Gu Heng’s pupils trembled slightly, caught off guard. His lips moved once, twice— but after staying silent for so long, he didn’t even know what to say.
Zuo Shihuan frowned. Expressionless, he said flatly, “Forget it. You’ll stay in my room later. Once I finish my business, I’ll come back and deal with you. Don’t worry—no one can just walk into my room.”
He said it as if he were coldly ordering him around. But the truth was—he was worried.
He was worried that if he left Gu Heng alone in a normal hotel room, something might happen again. That someone might try to attack him—again.
So he planned to take him to the top floor, to his own private suite, even if it meant delaying the engagement banquet yet again.
Zuo Shihuan forced himself to suppress the anxious irritation churning inside. His expression remained as cold and blank as ever, so that no one—not even Gu Heng—could see what he was really thinking.
Gu Heng, misunderstanding, thought it meant he was being cast aside again. He lowered his gaze in quiet despair, enduring the ache in silence.
But beneath that icy exterior, Zuo Shihuan’s heart was close to bursting. Even as he spoke, he clenched his teeth hard enough to ache, fighting the urge to lose control— to actually lock Gu Heng up for real.
Lock him away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry anymore— wouldn’t have to think about where he might run off to, who might come after him, or how it felt to see him again only to find a gun pressed to his head.
Every time that image replayed, Zuo Shihuan’s heart stopped cold— his hands trembled, equal parts fury and fear.
A flash of red glinted in his eyes; he casually pressed down on his right arm, still shaking from the impulse to strike someone, then gave a short, mirthless laugh.
He was genuinely considering it— the idea of locking Gu Heng up. After all, an unidentified Beta like him— Zuo Shihuan could afford to keep him.
Better that, than finding out too late that Gu Heng had died somewhere he couldn’t even reach.
Gu Heng, unaware that his freedom was on the verge of disappearing, heard Zuo Shihuan say he’d “leave him in a room” while he went off elsewhere. He didn’t need to think to know where that “elsewhere” was— the engagement banquet.
Gu Heng’s dark eyes lowered, shadowed with defiance. His voice was hoarse as he asked, “You’re not staying with me?”
Zuo Shihuan’s pupils flickered, then he looked away—silently refusing.
Gu Heng’s tone deepened, rough and low. “I’m hurt. Can’t you stay with me?”
That small bit of manipulation worked— it made Zuo Shihuan pause, made him stay.
So how could he make Zuo Shihuan stay forever? If he were hurt worse— so badly he couldn’t live without Zuo Shihuan— would that be enough?
Gu Heng’s eyes darkened to pitch black. At some point, a blade appeared behind his back.
He rolled the edge between his fingers. But this time, it wasn’t aimed at an enemy— it was aimed at himself.
The blade pressed down, slicing easily through the stiff fabric of his pants, about to cut a deep gash into his thigh. The sharp, metallic scent of blood was almost tangible.
But Gu Heng no longer cared. No matter the means— he would make Zuo Shihuan stay.
He knew precisely how to control the depth— how to cut through the space between skin and muscle, avoiding major vessels while making the wound look serious and bloody. It wouldn’t affect movement at all, and for an S-class Alpha like him, it would heal overnight.
He even wanted to make it worse— if only he weren’t afraid of scaring Zuo Shihuan.
Just as he was about to use the “injury trick” again, a faint cool touch brushed against his face.
It was gentle, the cold gradually melting into warmth as it caressed his cheek.
“I know you’re hurt.”
Zuo Shihuan’s light brown eyes were fixed on him, his clean, pale fingers tracing the faint red mark beneath Gu Heng’s left eye— a crescent scar, slightly pinker than the rest of his skin, like new flesh grown after a wound.
At their last meeting, Gu Heng hadn’t had that mark on his face.
If the wound had been a little higher, it might have reached his eye.
Zuo Shihuan’s light brown eyes narrowed slightly, cold fury flickering within them as he stared at the glaring red mark — not at Gu Heng, but at the person who had hurt him.
“Who did this to you?”
He asked with barely restrained anger, yet his hand moved with care, brushing over the fading scar that even Gu Heng himself had nearly forgotten.
In those light brown eyes that looked at him was sadness — and guilt that shouldn’t even have been his to bear.
Gu Heng froze for a moment, not even blinking, and then suddenly, as if surrendering his last weapon, he let go of the blade he’d been hiding behind his back. His cool skin seemed to grow warm where Zuo Shihuan’s palm touched.
His dark, deep eyes wavered slightly in disbelief as he dazedly looked up at that man. Then, carefully, he leaned down a little, letting Zuo Shihuan’s hand rest more easily against his cheek. Seeing no sign of rejection, a quiet joy bloomed in his eyes, bright and dazzling.
Like a spark in the dark that grew and grew until even the night couldn’t hide its light.
He had wanted to say something pitiful to elicit sympathy, but when the words reached his lips, what came out instead were words meant to comfort — simply because he didn’t want to see that sad expression on Zuo Shihuan’s face.
“It’s just a small wound. You don’t have to worry. I’m fine now.”
The tips of Gu Heng’s ears flushed red. He held onto Zuo Shihuan’s fingers tightly as he spoke, unwilling to let go. Instead, he pressed his cheek against Zuo Shihuan’s palm, rubbing against it like a spoiled, dependent creature.
He had been hurt, yes — not long ago, when he’d broken into a star pirate base and fought a modified Zerg. The mastermind behind them was quite interesting, though he’d gotten nicked on the face by accident and bled a little.
He hadn’t thought much of it. The small wound had healed quickly, the skin smooth again as if it had never been there.
Even Gu Heng hadn’t expected Zuo Shihuan to notice. Yet in Zuo Shihuan’s eyes, even a healed wound seemed unbearably grave — as if he was being held in someone’s heart with rare, precious care.
Gu Heng couldn’t help but lower his gaze and smile, his eyes brimming with joy and sweetness. Warm, soft feelings filled his chest, and thoughts of manipulation or schemes were all tossed aside.
Even without any tricks, Zuo Shihuan still cared about him.
Gu Heng’s eyes sparkled as he explained, “Those were just small fry. They couldn’t possibly hurt me. Even if you handed them ten guns and told them to shoot me, they wouldn’t land a hit. I was just using them.”
Zuo Shihuan clenched down his anger, pinching the face that treated its own body so carelessly. His light brown eyes darkened as he ground out through his teeth,
“A small wound? Almost injuring your eye is a small wound to you?! And judging from the way it healed, it wasn’t caused by any ordinary weapon! You call it a small wound because you got lucky this time — and now you dare say ten guns wouldn’t matter? What’s next, are you going to say you’ll block a bullet with your face?!”
“If I hadn’t arrived when I did, do you have any idea you’d be dead now?!”
“We agreed not to see each other again, and the next time I do, you’re being hunted down! Do I need to lock you in a dark room just so you’ll behave and stay out of danger?!”
Gu Heng, whose face was being pinched, looked obedient enough as he listened to the scolding, but inwardly he couldn’t help feeling secretly delighted.
Especially after being ignored all the way here, nearly convinced that Zuo Shihuan didn’t want him anymore — only to realize that Zuo Shihuan had been holding himself back until they reached somewhere safe before finally losing his temper.
Hearing Zuo Shihuan’s cold reprimand only made Gu Heng happier. His lips curved up uncontrollably; it was as if the person being scolded wasn’t him at all.
It should’ve been a humiliating moment, one that wounded his pride — but Gu Heng’s grin was shamelessly bright, like someone being praised instead of berated. His dark eyes gleamed, and his handsome, composed face broke into a foolish smile.
If anyone in the Empire who knew his true identity saw this, they would’ve been shocked speechless, convinced the Empire was about to collapse — because when had their cold, proud crown prince ever shown such an expression? It was more terrifying than the sky falling.
But Gu Heng really was smiling, eyes filled with joy and laughter.
He didn’t even notice that Zuo Shihuan’s expression had darkened again.
Zuo Shihuan truly was angry — especially since he’d been so worried, and Gu Heng still wore that silly, careless grin, showing no sign of reflecting on his reckless behavior.
Zuo Shihuan’s face turned cold. “Didn’t you just say it still hurt? Then how can you laugh like that? Guess you’re fine after all. Since you don’t need me, I’ll go.”
“Don’t!”
Just as Zuo Shihuan tried to take a step, he was suddenly pulled into a tight embrace. Strong, firm arms locked around him, holding him immobile. A broad, burning chest pressed against his back, and a lowered head rested against his neck as a deep voice murmured,
“I’ll behave. Zuo Shihuan, don’t go.”
Zuo Shihuan tried to push away the heavy head on his shoulder, but Gu Heng mistook it for an attempt to leave and buried his face even more stubbornly, refusing to move.
After several futile attempts, Zuo Shihuan, panting and out of strength, finally gave up. His angry gaze slowly softened into weary calm.
Facing this infuriatingly clingy man who refused to let go, he couldn’t pretend to feel nothing. But Gu Heng’s moods were unpredictable, and he still hid too many things from him.
Zuo Shihuan had been completely open about his own identity and past, while Gu Heng’s true identity — and why so many were after him — remained a mystery.
That imbalance was a dangerous sign. Zuo Shihuan knew the smartest thing would be to cut ties completely.
But he couldn’t do it.
His gaze deepened. “Even if I want to know your real identity — and what you did to make so many people hunt you down — would you tell me?”
Gu Heng froze, his dark eyes lowering as he held Zuo Shihuan even tighter. “I will tell you.”
Zuo Shihuan was silent for a long time. There was no joy in his heart — because he knew that, no matter what Gu Heng said next, it didn’t really matter anymore.
He would always believe Gu Heng — and never believe him.
Zuo Shihuan said, “Alright. I’ll wait for you to tell me, then. For now, let’s go to my room and treat your wound. Weren’t you saying just now that it hurts?”
Gu Heng suddenly felt a pang of regret. Could he still fake a wound now and get away with it?
But after what had just happened, how would he dare? All he could do was let Zuo Shihuan pull him along, frowning slightly in troubled thought, then giving a helpless, tender smile.
—Forget it. He’d have to confess sooner or later anyway. At worst, he’d just get another scolding from Zuo Shihuan. Embarrassing, yes — but bearable.
***
On the other side.
They arrived at the door to the top-floor suite.
When Zuo Shihuan pushed the door open, his pupils contracted — his whole body went stiff, frozen halfway through the motion.
Gu Heng, still smiling from before, noticed the strange reaction and asked curiously, “Why aren’t we going in?”
Zuo Shihuan looked conflicted. Instead of opening the door further, he hesitated, and even pulled it slightly shut again — as if trying to hide something.
Turning his head, he said, “Maybe we should switch to another room. I don’t think this one is… suitable.”
Gu Heng’s brows knit together. Zuo Shihuan’s behavior was becoming even stranger. A sudden thought struck him, and his expression grew serious. “Is there something wrong inside?”
In an instant, his mind filled with countless conspiracies and power struggles among the Federation’s elite — he thought maybe Zuo Shihuan had discovered something dangerous inside, that even here in the Federation, he wasn’t safe.
Which meant there was even less reason for Gu Heng to leave.
“Hide behind me. Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it.”
His gaze turned sharp as he stepped in front of the bewildered Zuo Shihuan, pushing the door open with alert precision.
Zuo Shihuan didn’t even have time to stop him.
But when Gu Heng pushed open the door and saw what was inside, he froze — and fell silent.
What greeted him wasn’t a hail of bullets or an ambush.
Yet to Gu Heng, it was worse than taking a bullet.
There was no danger — only suffocating romance. The entire top-floor suite was filled with fragrant candles, roses, and heart-shaped balloons.
It looked as if they had walked into a honeymoon suite meant for newlyweds.
Zuo Shihuan’s expression was complicated. “I don’t know why the hotel staff decided to do this — they must’ve changed the room’s decor on their own. I thought it’d be the same as usual… Forget it. If you don’t like it, we can switch rooms.”
Gu Heng understood the implication in his words — but still, jealousy burned red in his eyes.
He could change to any room he wanted, but he couldn’t change the fact that, in everyone else’s eyes, this room was prepared for someone else — that he was nothing but an outsider, standing at the door, burning with ugly jealousy.
He couldn’t stop tormenting himself with the thought:
—If he hadn’t come here tonight…
—Would someone else have been the one sharing this room, this bed, with Zuo Shihuan instead?
Can’t wait until next week to see more? Want to show your support? Come to my Patreon where you can get 5 or more chapters of After Being Deceived, I Married Someone Else and Had Children right away ! Or go donate at Paypal or Ko-fi to show your appreciation! :)
