Backstage.
The other main character of the engagement banquet still hadn’t arrived, and people had begun to whisper among themselves.
“Has Young Master Zuo still not come?”
“The ceremony time has already passed—if we delay any longer, will it really be all right?”
“He should be here soon, shouldn’t he?”
Yu Lizhu, the bride, sat before the vanity mirror in an elegant, luxurious off-shoulder white wedding gown with a trailing skirt. The makeup artist touched up her already flawless makeup again and again. In her idle moments, she lifted her gaze to glance at the clock on the wall, crossing her long legs in slender high heels.
The gown was undeniably beautiful, but the layers of lace and the weight of the jewels made it unbearably heavy. Even while sitting, Yu Lizhu’s legs grew numb; she had to switch which one was crossed every so often.
At first, she waited patiently. But as time went on, she couldn’t help but wonder where exactly Zuo Shihuan had gone.
He had always been cautious and reliable—yet at such a critical moment, he suddenly sent word that the ceremony would be delayed, and now he had completely disappeared.
Though Yu Lizhu felt a flicker of doubt, she wasn’t as anxious as the others.
Zuo Shihuan’s butler had already explained that he had an urgent matter to attend to. Besides, the most important guest of today’s engagement banquet—the Federation President—had already been received and had left. The remaining ceremony was merely the final formality of this powerful political marriage alliance. It wasn’t particularly important.
She’d only made a few phone calls, but none of them were answered by Zuo Shihuan.
For a fleeting moment, Yu Lizhu even wondered if the groom had run away.
But as soon as that absurd thought arose, she laughed at herself.
She must’ve listened to too many scandalous stories from high society lately if she could start thinking nonsense like that—imagining such a thing about someone like Zuo Shihuan.
Even if someone were to run away from marriage, it would never be Zuo Shihuan. He was probably just handling some sudden urgent matter and didn’t have time to pick up the phone.
Yet the next second, her confidence wavered.
With the sound of the door opening, the noisy crowd fell silent.
The long-awaited Zuo Shihuan finally arrived— but what they got was a disheveled one.
At first glance, he didn’t look any different from when he left: his white suit was neat, every button fastened, his appearance as composed and ascetic as ever. But on closer inspection, there were faint, unclear kiss marks on his neck, the subtle disarray of his clothing, a pallor to his face—and his thin lips, unusually flushed and bitten red.
He moved slowly.
His cold, repressed expression made those around him instinctively step aside as he walked straight to Yu Lizhu, brows tightly furrowed, exhaustion written on his face. His fingers clenched and unclenched, knuckles whitening.
Yu Lizhu could tell something was wrong—he looked shaken, emotionally off balance. Just as she was about to ask what had happened, the silent façade Zuo Shihuan was holding up seemed to crumble.
He raised his light brown eyes, almost crushed by grief, and looked helplessly at his fiancée—the only person present he could still trust to confide in.
“I don’t dare look back… at him.”
“Look back at who?” Yu Lizhu frowned instinctively.
Zuo Shihuan’s waist trembled slightly. Barely able to stand, he braced himself against the table, lips trembling as he struggled to speak. At last, he shut his eyes in pain, refusing to answer.
This frail, broken image of him overturned the calm, self-possessed Zuo Shihuan she had always known. What could have happened to make him like this?
Yu Lizhu’s mind turned rapidly. She softened her tone. “Who did you just see? An old friend?”
She knew Zuo Shihuan had grown up in the slums—his background was complicated—but he was easy to get along with, tolerant so long as his bottom line wasn’t crossed. And perhaps because of that indifference, few people ever truly entered his heart.
Let alone moved him to such visible sorrow.
Whoever had delayed him—delayed his own engagement ceremony—must hold an extraordinary place in his heart. It couldn’t be someone from the Zuo family, whom she knew well. So this person must be from before he returned to the family.
But who—an old friend, or… a lover?
Yu Lizhu studied Zuo Shihuan’s desolate expression, the faint marks on his neck—marks that seemed left by someone possessive, dominant—and her suspicion tilted more toward “lover.”
She’d never heard him mention anyone he was seeing, and she trusted he wouldn’t hide it. Ever since joining the Zuo family, he’d been all work and no life—perhaps he’d broken up with someone before then.
Whatever the case, that person clearly mattered deeply to him.
Yu Lizhu decided she would stand by him no matter what. If that person was important to Zuo Shihuan, she would help however she could. After all, she and Ji Shenwen had only managed to be together thanks to Zuo Shihuan helping cover for them with both their families.
So she gave him a gentle smile, her tone tender: “If your ‘friend’ doesn’t mind, I can arrange a time to meet and explain things, so they don’t misunderstand. And truly, I don’t mind if you visit your ‘friend’ often.”
Her overly soft voice made the hairs on Zuo Shihuan’s arms stand up. He frowned and looked at her, disturbed by the odd sweetness in her smile.
“What on earth are you thinking?” he said sharply.
“Your ‘friend,’ of course~” Yu Lizhu arched a brow, teasing lightly. “No need to be embarrassed—it’s just a friend. Everyone’s had one or two ‘friends.’ Like me and Ji Shenwen, that kind of… friend.”
Zuo Shihuan was speechless, then blurted out in frustration, “It’s not what you think!”
Yu Lizhu blinked, willing to trust him for a brief second.
But as her gaze ran over the kiss marks on his neck, the faint bites still red and swollen on his lips, and who knew how many more hidden beneath the neat suit— if not what she thought, then what else could it be?
Who was he trying to fool?
Her eyes darkened with resentment. While she’d been sitting here, waiting for her fiancé to join her for their engagement ceremony, he’d apparently been off meeting his lover—and hadn’t even bothered to tell her.
Zuo Shihuan could tell she was imagining the worst and quickly tried to explain, “It’s really not like that, him and I—”
Yu Lizhu pointed to his neck and smiled with a falsely gentle expression. “Still just a ‘friend’? Those marks don’t look like something a normal friend would leave. I don’t mind you having someone else privately, but next time, at least warn me first so I can help cover for you.”
“There won’t be a next time.”
A shadow of sorrow crossed Zuo Shihuan’s light brown eyes. His fingers clenched tightly around the edge of the table, lips pressed into a thin line as he murmured to himself, “There won’t be another time. I left him there—alone—and ran away like a coward, not even daring to look back at him.”
“My relationship with him… isn’t what you think. He and I are nothing. But it’s not as simple as you imagine, either.”
His gaze flickered, hesitated, then hardened. “That’s enough. It should’ve ended long ago. I’m sorry, Yu Lizhu—it was selfish of me to delay the engagement ceremony and make you wait. I can get ready now.”
Yu Lizhu’s apricot eyes glimmered with doubt, but her voice remained calm. “It’s fine. I haven’t waited that long. I’ve already told the Yu family about the delay. If there’s anything troubling you, you can tell me. After all, we’re allies in the same boat—we advance and retreat together.”
Zuo Shihuan lowered his eyes and said quietly, “No… it’s fine. Things were always going to end this way.”
Yu Lizhu frowned, concern in her tone. “What happened? Did you two have a fight? Or did your ‘friend’ misunderstand something?”
Misunderstand?
Zuo Shihuan shook his head with a hollow gaze. There was no misunderstanding.
Today was his engagement banquet, and he had to go through with it. No matter how many thoughts churned inside him, no matter how much he’d delayed, he couldn’t escape stepping onto that stage.
He knew it rationally—yet that didn’t stop his mind from replaying the image of Gu Heng, alone in that dark, desolate place he’d left him in.
The more afraid he felt, the less he dared look back.
Because he knew—if he turned back, he wouldn’t be able to leave.
But he belonged to the Zuo family, represented the Zuo family. Everyone was watching. He wasn’t allowed to make mistakes. He couldn’t look back. Couldn’t abandon everything. He could only—
—make a choice.
And this time, the one being abandoned was Gu Heng.
That terrible, arrogant man—every time Zuo Shihuan thought of giving up, Gu Heng would appear out of nowhere, forcefully kiss him again, tease him, make him fall for him all over like a fool.
It had been him who said he wanted to leave. It had been him who—
“Zuo Shihuan, what’s wrong with you?” Yu Lizhu asked, alarmed.
What’s wrong with me?
Zuo Shihuan opened his eyes blankly. Everything around him blurred; even Yu Lizhu’s figure before him was just a hazy outline. His face felt wet.
He wiped at it— tears.
He stared at the moisture on his hand in daze. More tears spilled down his cheeks, one by one. He didn’t bother wiping them away again. Instead, he gave a faint shake of his head. “It’s nothing. It’ll pass soon.”
He realized then—he truly was a son of the Zuo family. Cold, self-serving blood ran in his veins just like the rest of them.
No different at all.
Just like when he’d been five years old, declared a Beta and cast aside by his father. Now, he was doing the same—abandoning someone else.
No matter how much he told himself he didn’t want to—he still did it.
He was used to it by now.
No matter how unbearable the pain, he’d learned to endure it. It would pass soon enough.
That was what reason dictated.
Expressionless, Zuo Shihuan continued to shed silent tears. He picked up a bottle of champagne from the table and began pouring himself glass after glass, drinking each one down.
There was no sign of sadness in his movements.
His face was calm, detached—like the weeping man drinking wasn’t him at all, as though his rational mind and emotions had split apart, each existing in its own isolated world.
Seeing him so unlike himself, Yu Lizhu’s heart grew heavier with worry. Without a word, she gestured for the others to leave.
Soon, only the two of them remained in the room.
Yu Lizhu watched, anxious, as the man who never touched alcohol at social gatherings drank glass after glass before her eyes.
Even if champagne was weak, it wasn’t water!
When Zuo Shihuan reached for another bottle from the ice bucket, she couldn’t bear it any longer and took his glass away.
Lost in his own world, he didn’t even notice. His light brown eyes stared emptily into space while his hand kept pouring.
After ten seconds or so, when he finally went to lift the glass, his hand found only air.
He looked down—
the champagne had overflowed, spreading across the table.
Zuo Shihuan frowned in startled confusion, then looked up to meet Yu Lizhu’s deliberately innocent gaze. They locked eyes silently for a few seconds before he dropped the bottle with a sharp clatter of frustration.
The bottle struck the ice bucket, the collision ringing sharply through the room.
Zuo Shihuan slumped back onto the deep-blue armchair beside him, head tilted, a faint flicker of anger in his eyes.
“Why? Even you, Yu Lizhu—you’re going to stop me over something this small?”
Yu Lizhu frowned, her voice calm. “Why would I stop you? I was just about to join you for a drink. But you, Zuo Shihuan—you’re the kind of person who never drinks, not even at parties. If you actually liked drinking, I wouldn’t stop you. But do you?”
“……” Zuo Shihuan fell silent, unable to answer.
Yu Lizhu set the glass back down in front of him, her gaze serious. “Is that person really so difficult for you? Even as the Zuo family heir, you still can’t have him?”
Zuo Shihuan lowered his eyes, silent for a few seconds, then said quietly, “What if I don’t want a hidden lover—but something real?”
Yu Lizhu froze, forcing out a laugh. “Something real? You mean not that kind of relationship? Hah… Zuo Shihuan, you don’t mean you actually want to—”
His dark eyes deepened, and he slowly turned his face away from her intense stare.
Yu Lizhu’s laughter faltered. Her black eyes widened in disbelief as she looked at the composed, handsome man sitting across from her.
Zuo Shihuan lowered his gaze, his hands clasped tightly as he said, slowly and evenly, “I don’t want anyone to be a lover. My parents’ generation already disgusted me with all their secret affairs and hidden decadence. I’m just an ordinary person too—I want to be with someone I love, to marry and build a family. Not to enter another cold marriage of convenience or some so-called Alpha–Omega match based on pheromone compatibility, just to produce another tool like me.”
“But the one I like is a Beta—and a Beta whose background is far more complicated than I ever imagined. The Zuo family would never allow an Alpha heir like me to marry a Beta. There was a moment—a single thoughtless, reckless moment—when I wanted to give up everything the Zuo family had given me and leave with him. Even if it meant losing all the luxury, the power, the prestige… I was willing to start from nothing, as long as it was with him.”
Yu Lizhu’s heart surged like a stormy sea. She couldn’t believe that someone as calm and rational as Zuo Shihuan would ever do something so impulsive—so wildly irrational.
Her mind felt a little blank from the shock.
“Y-you… Zuo Shihuan, you actually thought about running away from your engagement? My god! I never would’ve imagined you could have such a reckless idea—and you were really planning to do it! Even I wouldn’t dare think that far! No, wait, forget the engagement—running away from the Zuo family? Your father would lose his mind!”
After all, old Zuo Zoujian—the sly old fox—had gone decades without an Alpha heir. The entire circle mocked him behind his back, and every side branch of the family was just waiting for a chance to trample over his line and take control.
Finally, they got Zuo Shihuan, an Alpha heir—and if he were to be stolen away by some Beta of unknown origin, his father would absolutely go insane, reduced to the laughingstock of the entire elite circle.
Even just picturing the fallout terrified Yu Lizhu. A Zuo Shihuan who lost his heirship, dragging along some lowly Beta, facing the wrath of the entire Zuo family—where could they possibly run?
Even she—if she ran from her engagement—wouldn’t face consequences that severe.
Zuo Zoujian would never let his only Alpha heir go. If things really reached that point…
The Zuo family might actually send people to hunt that Beta down. After all, the family ran the arms business, with deep ties to the Federation government, the military, and countless other forces. There was no way they’d let two runaway lovers slip away alive.
No matter how capable Zuo Shihuan was, he couldn’t escape if the entire Zuo family’s resources were turned against him. And of all people, he—who was already beginning to take over the family’s power—would understand that cruel reality best.
Yu Lizhu wanted to persuade him otherwise, but what could she say? Compared to her, an outsider, Zuo Shihuan surely knew the risks better than anyone. Yet even knowing that, he had still wanted to take the risk.
She let out a long, heavy sigh, her dark almond eyes fixed on him. “You really like that person that much? Have you known each other long?”
Zuo Shihuan’s red-rimmed eyes lowered; he let out a faint, self-mocking laugh. “Not long. Not as long as I’ve known you.”
Yu Lizhu grew anxious. “Then why—?”
Zuo Shihuan pressed his lips together, voice quiet and flat. “Because, somehow, I kept seeing him again and again, even when I shouldn’t have. The mecha models I didn’t want to take kept showing up in front of me. In the end, I couldn’t do anything—I was helpless. I could only offer my heart to him, and he… rejected it without mercy.”
Yu Lizhu’s fists trembled, fury flaring. “How dare he reject you! That person—what an ungrateful b*stard! If he didn’t want to be with you, then why lead you on? He’s a vile, deceitful liar!”
Zuo Shihuan’s eyes reddened instantly. He smiled bitterly. “If only he were a liar. If only he’d been a liar—then I could’ve given him money, treated it as a transaction, and kept him by my side…”
But he wasn’t a liar.
And because Gu Heng wasn’t lying—because every word, every rejection had been genuine—it made it that much harder to accept.
Zuo Shihuan’s shoulders slumped. He lowered his gaze and stayed silent for over ten seconds before finally standing up slowly, glancing down at his slightly wrinkled white suit, and curling his lips in a faint, bitter smile.
“That’s enough. Thank you, Yu Lizhu, for being patient enough to listen to all this nonsense. In any case, I’ve already made my choice. He knows who’s getting engaged today. What comes next—we’ll do what we have to do. We can’t keep everyone waiting any longer. Let them back in… and I’ll need to change out of this suit.”
He turned, ready to leave.
In a rush of panic, Yu Lizhu grabbed his wrist, frowning deeply, her eyes searching his. “Is this really it? Zuo Shihuan, are you really willing to just let it end like this?”
“I have no choice.”
Zuo Shihuan paused, then lowered his gaze again, smiling faintly. “You know as well as I do—we never have a choice. We’re both people trapped by circumstance. By the way…” His voice dropped. “I saw your friend Ji Shenwen has returned.”
Yu Lizhu’s heart lurched. She repeated blankly, “Returned? Returned to the Federation’s capital? Ji Shenwen too?!”
“…Yes,” Zuo Shihuan said.
Yu Lizhu’s pupils contracted sharply. Her hands clenched nervously around the sides of her gown, her face filled with unease and anxiety at the sudden news.
She hadn’t forgotten that Ji Shenwen was due to return—but she never expected it would be so soon. She’d assumed he’d arrive in seven or eight days at the earliest.
But if Zuo Shihuan had seen Ji Shenwen’s inseparable friend, that meant they were already back on the Federation’s main star. Nearby—close enough that they could meet any time.
Meet.
Such a sweet word, yet it sent fear coursing through Yu Lizhu’s veins.
She’d already made all her arrangements—she thought Ji Shenwen had another week before returning. By then, the engagement would be over; she’d finish her business and bury the news. Even if Ji Shenwen learned of the engagement between the Yu and Zuo families, she could lie and say it was another Miss Yu.
But now everything was different.
Now it felt like Ji Shenwen could appear anywhere on the main star at any moment. And when he did—how could she possibly explain?
Panic began to take over. Yu Lizhu’s hands trembled as she poured herself another drink, taking small sips as the cold alcohol steadied her nerves. Her dark eyes darted restlessly as she thought.
Then she pulled out her communicator.
Unable to suppress the fear any longer, she dialed the number engraved in her memory.
A bright, cheerful male voice came through the other end.
“Hello, Lizhu? What’s up?”
Ji Shenwen stopped his hovercar, glancing out the window at the glittering skyline of the Federation Hotel district. His right hand held the communicator as he spoke to Yu Lizhu, while a monitoring device rested on his knees—and the barrel of the gun holstered at his waist was still faintly warm.
During the mission, they had been waiting far too long without any news from His Highness the Crown Prince.
Ji Shenwen began to feel uneasy and doubtful. According to the coordinates from the last transmitted signal, the location was this very Federation Hotel. However, their target for this mission was extremely cautious, and by now the monitoring screen had lost all trace of the signal.
What made things worse was that the hotel seemed to be hosting some kind of event today—when Ji Shenwen observed from a distance, he noticed a considerable number of patrolling security guards.
Perhaps some important figure was attending; that wouldn’t be strange. This was the most prestigious hotel on the Federation’s main star—most visiting dignitaries and aristocrats stayed here, and countless large-scale events had been held on its grounds.
Still, whoever those important guests might be, they shouldn’t have anything to do with their target today.
To some extent, Ji Shenwen felt that this mission had already reached a dead end. He couldn’t rashly rush in and startle the target—especially when they didn’t even know the target’s face. And besides, for such a minor mission, it wasn’t worth taking unnecessary risks.
If His Highness Gu Heng, the Crown Prince, hadn’t gone into the hotel ahead of him alone, Ji Shenwen would’ve already reassigned this trivial, time-wasting task to another subordinate.
But the Crown Prince had been inside for far too long—so long that even on the surveillance feed, his position hadn’t changed at all. If this continued, Ji Shenwen might have to infiltrate the hotel himself to check the situation.
Although he trusted His Highness completely—no one in the entire Federation Hotel could possibly pose a threat to the Crown Prince—unless the Zerg Queen herself suddenly appeared with her army (which was, of course, impossible)—the lack of contact still troubled him.
Could it be that His Highness had some other plan?
Though Ji Shenwen found the situation increasingly strange, he decided not to disturb the Crown Prince for now. He’d wait patiently and, if there was still no word after ten minutes, he would make contact.
During that wait, his communicator suddenly rang—it was Yu Lizhu.
Ji Shenwen’s heart instantly lifted; he answered the call without hesitation.
As he spoke, he reached up to fix his slightly messy hair—chestnut-gold strands curling lightly at the tips. Thinking that after this mission ended, he’d finally get to see Yu Lizhu again, his eyes shone with anticipation and delight.
“Right, my friend had to return to the Federation’s main star early for other matters, so I came back too. Once I finish taking care of a few things, I’ll be able to see you very soon.”
Yu Lizhu nervously, pressed her red lips together. Her voice carried a mix of happiness and melancholy. She lifted her eyes to the mirror—at the reflection of herself in a wedding dress—her expression dimming with guilt. “I… I might not be able to see you that soon.”
Ji Shenwen smiled softly, brows curved. “That’s all right. I won’t be done right away either. I can wait until you’re free, Lizhu. I’ll be staying on the main star for quite a while—I can take you out on lots of dates then.”
Yu Lizhu gripped the communicator tightly. Guilt surged through her heart, threatening to drown her. In the end, she only managed a faint, sigh-like “Mm.”
Ji Shenwen asked, puzzled, “Lizhu, what’s wrong? Where are you? It sounds a bit noisy…”
“Yu Lizhu, it’s time for us to go.”
A cold male voice suddenly sounded nearby. Ji Shenwen froze—the voice was strangely familiar, as if he’d heard it somewhere before—and his vigilance shot up immediately.
He opened his mouth to ask, but Yu Lizhu quickly cut him off.
“I’m sorry, Ji Shenwen, something came up here—I have to hang up!”
The line went dead before he could even get out, “All right, go take care of it.” The abrupt dial tone left his chest aching; he couldn’t help wondering who that man beside her was.
But he didn’t dare call again to ask.
After struggling a while with frustration and regret, Ji Shenwen gave up and decided to contact the Crown Prince instead, to check on his situation. It took two tries before the call finally went through—only for the Crown Prince to speak first:
“I’m going to kidnap a groom.”
Gu Heng’s voice was low and hoarse. His dark eyes fixed on the open doorway, as though frozen in time—haunted by the sight of someone walking away without a word, without ever looking back.
“…What?!” Ji Shenwen blurted, completely bewildered.
Gu Heng asked calmly, “Will you come help me?”
“Of course, Your Highness. What do you want me to do next?”
Ji Shenwen replied instantly. He would never refuse any order from the Crown Prince—whatever His Highness decided always had his reasons.
But after hearing the details of the plan, Ji Shenwen was utterly stunned. Even after hanging up, his eyes were still wide in alarm, staring blankly at the now-dark communicator.
Muttering to himself in confusion, he said, “Why does it feel like everyone’s acting strange today…?”
