After Being Deceived, I Married Someone Else and Had Children Chapter 68

“I—I…”

No.

No, this couldn’t be.

Zuo Shihuan reached with his other hand to try and remove the ring, but met Gu Heng’s deep, steady gaze.

He couldn’t help but look away— but the moment his eyes dropped to the ring, his movements froze.

His lips trembled. No words came out.

He was wrong.

Only now did he realize—he’d picked up the wrong ring.

It was a man’s ring.

Not the one meant for the bride, but the one meant for himself.

Zuo Shihuan stared at the ring in disbelief, studying it for a long while. The way it fit his finger so perfectly left him stunned and dazed.

No wonder it had been so hard to put the other ring on Yu Lizhu’s hand—and even when he managed, it still slipped off.

Thinking back, he couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been—how long it had been since he’d done something this foolish.

And not a single person had warned him.

Not even the priest who handed him the ring—he hadn’t checked which one it was before passing it over!

Zuo Shihuan frowned, annoyed at the priest for a moment—then sighed bitterly, realizing it was still his own fault.

He looked lost, dazed, even his movements to remove the ring faltered.

Gu Heng gave a soft laugh, but behind the smile his dark, obstinate eyes carried a trace of tension as he asked quietly, “What is it? You still don’t want it?”

“Don’t you believe me? As long as you’re willing to come with me—maybe not here, not in the Federation—but you don’t have to worry. I’ll give you the best I have, better than anything here. Even the ring will be better.”

Gu Heng lifted Zuo Shihuan’s hand, kissing the ring on his finger. His deep, noble eyes were filled with unprecedented seriousness as he looked at Zuo Shihuan.

In his seemingly cryptic words lay an affection and solemnity that Zuo Shihuan couldn’t understand.

He wanted to take him back—to the Empire.

But he was afraid to scare him.

Every word he spoke was a true, solemn promise.

Even if he brought Zuo Shihuan back to the Empire, he would make sure he had nothing to fear. He would give him the best—open his private treasury, let Zuo Shihuan choose the brightest and finest gems for his ring, and even if he wanted to make one and throw one away, it wouldn’t matter. The spoils of war alone—gold and jewels—were enough to build a small mountain.

He knew what Zuo Shihuan had gone through in the Federation. He knew his mother had long remarried and had other children, that his father wasn’t a man of deep affection, that he had few friends. Even after moving into the Zuo household, it had been less than a year, and his relationships with his half-siblings were distant at best.

Gu Heng, putting himself in another’s place, didn’t think Zuo Shihuan would have any special attachment to those so-called siblings.

From that perspective, it wasn’t a bad thing for the solitary, friendless Zuo Shihuan to return to the Empire with him.

After all, the Federation had never treated Zuo Shihuan kindly.

He could simply become an ordinary civilian immigrating from the Federation to the Empire—what was so bad about that?

Everything the Zuo family could give Zuo Shihuan, as the imperial crown prince, Gu Heng could give many times over. Moreover, the Zuo family only needed Zuo Shihuan—they were using him, and what they offered in return was nothing more than a meager form of compensation.

But Gu Heng was no longer like when he first saw Zuo Shihuan appear arm-in-arm with an Omega bride—overcome with fury and impulse, ready to storm in and snatch him away to the Empire.

Because just now, Zuo Shihuan had made a choice—a choice for him—and that gave Gu Heng a new measure of patience.

In his restrained eyes lay an abyssal trench, fathomless and dark. He clasped Zuo Shihuan’s trembling, sweat-dampened hand in his own, and when he looked at him, hope rose in his gaze like a shaft of sunlight sinking into the deep sea. Unable to suppress the urgency in his heart, he asked softly—

“Would you be willing?”

Zuo Shihuan’s first instinct was to avert his eyes from that burning gaze. Hesitation and misgivings churned within him; he turned away, lowering his head with difficulty, staring at the ring on his finger. The warm silver glow reflected in his eyes seemed to carry the heat of Gu Heng’s touch.

In his light brown eyes flickered a trace of anguish and reluctant sorrow.

But could he really go along with Gu Heng’s wishes?

Gu Heng’s words were tempting, intoxicating even—but could he truly believe them?

Zuo Shihuan didn’t even know who Gu Heng really was. Ordinary people couldn’t possibly crash the Zuo family’s engagement banquet, much less break through their security robots.

Could he really trust Gu Heng?

Zuo Shihuan let out a bitter laugh, realizing his answer hadn’t changed at all.

Gu Heng was a reckless, willful man, as if there was something—or someone—behind him that allowed him to live so freely and arrogantly, with a self-assurance untouched by constraint.

But Zuo Shihuan could never be like that.

He had long known the world would never revolve around him.

On the contrary, he had always been the one fate toyed with—a man who had to put in ten or a hundred times the effort just to claw his way up from poverty and hardship, to keep struggling even when he had no one to rely on, determined to survive even when survival alone drained everything he had.

It had taken all he had just to live through the torment of his genetic illness, to reach the Zuo family—a place he’d once never dared to imagine. To live in a grand house, to finally have a life where he didn’t have to scramble just to stay alive—

This fragile existence, barely above the survival line, where he could finally breathe—this was what Zuo Shihuan had dreamed of all his life. And it was something Gu Heng could never understand.

No matter how much Zuo Shihuan resented this engagement banquet, he didn’t want to see it destroyed.

This banquet was not so simple. Even if Gu Heng barged in, it wouldn’t change anything. It would only bring Gu Heng—and himself—a storm of trouble with no way forward or back.

Zuo Shihuan didn’t even need to lift his head to feel it: from all around came curious, speculative, hostile, angry, and jealous stares darting between him and Gu Heng—especially fixed on Gu Heng.

A nameless Beta appearing out of nowhere and disrupting the engagement between the Zuo and Yu families—how could it not attract attention, even malicious speculation?

Even though Gu Heng’s actions tonight were shocking and unbelievable—things no ordinary Beta from the lower districts could possibly do—

Zuo Shihuan still didn’t believe that Gu Heng alone could stand against the Zuo family. And after tonight, the enemies Gu Heng would attract would go far beyond the Zuos.

The more Zuo Shihuan understood about the Zuo family’s power within the Federation, the less confidence he had. Even with all his ability, he had been in the Zuo family for less than a year—far from strong enough to break free from them.

Countless ideas for solutions ran through his mind, only to be dismissed one after another.

In the end, Zuo Shihuan bit down hard on his molars, his eyes clouded with worry and anxious thought.

What should he do?

How could he make sure Gu Heng left here unharmed, and suppress the chaos of tonight under all the pressure that would follow?

If only he had more time— even just two or three more years—he wouldn’t have been in such a powerless position.

And yet, even now— Zuo Shihuan was still desperately trying to keep the situation from collapsing, to minimize the damage, and most importantly, to shield Gu Heng behind him, to hide and protect him.

He didn’t want Gu Heng to be hurt in the slightest—but he also couldn’t let things continue like this.

Zuo Shihuan looked at Gu Heng with deep reluctance. The fingers Gu Heng held so tightly twitched slightly, reason seeping back in through the cracks of the emotional cage Gu Heng had trapped him in.

But it wasn’t that simple.

Gu Heng’s hand—like the man himself—allowed no resistance. Zuo Shihuan, trying to quietly pull free, found himself unable to move at all.

“Let go,” Zuo Shihuan was finally forced to say.

But that was the one thing Gu Heng couldn’t bear to hear.

He had never imagined that a single sentence could cast him straight into h*ll.

In that instant, a bone-deep chill spread through him, as if he had been abandoned in a frozen h*ll, the cold biting into his lips and teeth, trembling through his body. A wave of absurd, pitiful self-loathing welled up in him.

And when he looked at Zuo Shihuan again, Gu Heng’s gaze was heavy—with a trace of fear.

He realized that Zuo Shihuan’s heart was as cold and unyielding as stone.

No matter what he did, he couldn’t move him. Once, he would never have believed that he—an imperial crown prince—could feel such helpless dread.

As if he had tried everything, and still stood powerless—like a useless fool.

Perhaps it was because he had lived too arrogantly, too recklessly for the first half of his life, that fate had given him Zuo Shihuan— a calamity he could neither resist nor escape, one that made him willing to trample all his pride and self-respect beneath his feet, becoming someone he no longer recognized, defying every principle he once held.

All for Zuo Shihuan — an Alpha who wasn’t even from the Empire.

Who would ever believe that the Alpha Crown Prince of the Empire would one day do something so humiliating to the Empire itself — all for an Alpha from the enemy Federation?

If his father, the Emperor far away in the Empire, were to find out, he would never let him off easily.

Perhaps, just like before —

Whenever he showed the slightest hint of defiance or resistance toward his father’s endless physical training, he’d be locked inside the “confinement chamber,” where his father kept his war trophies — captured Zerg creatures. He’d be thrown in there to fight the Zerg barehanded. Or, if his father was in a particularly bad mood, he would simply beat him bloody himself — only to stand over him afterward, looking down from on high and ask if he had “learned his lesson.”

Because his father was the greatest ruler of the Empire.

An Alpha among Alphas — one who had fought countless battles, slaughtered innumerable Zerg and Federation soldiers. In physical strength, combat experience, and command ability, he was the very best — revered and adored by the Empire’s people. Once, he had even led the Empire’ army into the Zerg’s main hive, a force that had threatened the Empire for a thousand years — and nearly wiped out their queen, almost erasing the Zerg threat forever.

And as the child of such a man —

Even before he had differentiated into an Alpha, when he was still just a child — if he was punished and thrown into the confinement chamber or the Zerg battlefields, denied rest for days, trained to withstand pain and recover quickly until his body was covered in wounds — everyone would still think he was at fault. No one dared to defy the Emperor’s orders and let him out.

They all said it was because he was exceptionally gifted — that his father held high hopes for him, and thus demanded more.

Once, Gu Heng had believed that too. He thought it was his fault — and after every punishment, he pushed himself harder than before in secret training.

But that was only until that incident.

His father had gone to the battlefield once more, and Gu Heng was kidnapped by his royal uncle as leverage. He had clung to a fragile hope — that his father still cared, that he would at least soften his tone, try to negotiate.

But his father, cold and ruthless, rejected every one of his uncle’s terms. He said, “He’s just one among my many children,” and unilaterally cut off the communication.

He left Gu Heng to face his furious uncle’s men — they beat him senseless, then tied him up in an abandoned cavern, ready to blow it up. If Gu Heng hadn’t dug a tunnel with his bare hands to escape, he would have died there.

From that day on, Gu Heng understood — his father was nothing but a bloodthirsty, battle-crazed tyrant, born for war and cruelty.

He felt no trace of fatherly love for him. Gu Heng was just one of countless sons and daughters — one of countless tools to be used in war.

His father’s so-called “favor” was only because he was the strongest, the most promising tool of them all.

Even so, Gu Heng supposed he should thank his father.

His father had taught him a truth:

Those who are strong — like his father — can do whatever they please.

When Gu Heng became even stronger than his father, the Emperor no longer dared to ignore him. The way he looked at his once-insignificant Alpha son — with vigilance, even fear — proved it.

The strong could decide everything for the weak, and the weak were born to obey.

Just like his now-weakened father. 

Just like he himself, once upon a time.

Just like—

Gu Heng stared at Zuo Shihuan’s face without moving, the corners of his lips curving in a faint, malicious smile.

Instead of letting go, he tightened his grip.

“Why? You want to go back on your word now?”

His black eyes were frighteningly calm, their depths shadowed and cold. His lips curved in a mocking sneer as if daring Zuo Shihuan to come up with another flimsy excuse.

He wouldn’t listen — he just wanted to see what kind of cruel, false lies Zuo Shihuan could come up with this time.

“I’m not regretting it.”

Zuo Shihuan realized Gu Heng had misunderstood. He shook his head and met his gaze earnestly. “I don’t know how to explain it, but this engagement banquet isn’t as simple as you think. It’s not what it looks like. After tonight, I’ll tell you everything — but for now, I can’t leave.”

“Is that so?”

Gu Heng’s eyes were flat and lifeless, void of any genuine emotion.

Hearing Zuo Shihuan’s vague, uncertain words, anger and absurdity churned in his chest, almost making him laugh — but his face remained dark and cold.

In Gu Heng’s eyes, Zuo Shihuan was wavering.

He was regretting it.

He wanted to stay — to continue this engagement, to keep his Omega bride, whoever she was, to remain in the Zuo family’s luxurious, comfortable life in the Federation’s high society.

It sounded reasonable — even harmless. But why should Gu Heng allow it?

He had given Zuo Shihuan a chance — one chance to completely cast him out of this engagement, out of this gilded world.

And since Zuo Shihuan had chosen him in that fleeting moment of hesitation, he should’ve known what kind of monster he was inviting.

Suddenly, Gu Heng grabbed Zuo Shihuan’s wrist, lifting it sharply. He leaned down, his face close to Zuo Shihuan’s, those deep, cold black eyes locking onto Zuo Shihuan’s trembling, guilty light-brown gaze. A shard of ice glinted in Gu Heng’s eyes as he gave a short, derisive laugh and asked—

“An engagement banquet I saw with my own eyes ‘isn’t what I think it is’? Then what is it supposed to be? Are you saying everything I’m seeing right now is fake? Do you really take me for that much of a fool?”

Zuo Shihuan’s pupils trembled. He bit his lower lip hard and said nothing — unsure how to make Gu Heng, whose emotions were clearly spiraling, understand.

The truth was… the engagement banquet really wasn’t what Gu Heng thought. The so-called Omega fiancée — he knew her. She was Yu Lizhu, Ji Shenwen’s girlfriend.

But he couldn’t drag Yu Lizhu into this.

Things were already chaotic enough.

How could he possibly say, in front of everyone, that this entire engagement was nothing but a private arrangement between him and Yu Lizhu?!

Zuo Shihuan raised his eyes to meet Gu Heng’s and said through clenched teeth, “Can’t you believe me, just this once? I don’t want this either… I’ll handle it. I’ll make everything right and explain it all to you — but I really can’t just walk away like this, pretending I don’t care.”

“Let’s hear it, then?”

Gu Heng raised an eyebrow, his pair of proud, coldly mocking black eyes saying plainly that he didn’t believe him—but he still pressed closer, step by step.

Until Zuo Shihuan had nowhere left to retreat.

In those cold, gloomy eyes of Gu Heng’s, there was a trace of hurt. He bit out each word through clenched teeth, his voice hoarse:

“In the end, Zuo Shihuan, you just don’t want to leave here. No matter how hard I try, how much I throw away my pride to win you back—you only ever look at me for a brief moment, then so easily turn your eyes away.”

“Every single time, Zuo Shihuan, you can so calmly, so neatly turn your back on me, throw me off like some burden, and not long after—you’ve already found someone new.”

“As if I never even existed in your eyes!”

A broad, burning hand suddenly clamped around the back of Zuo Shihuan’s neck, forcing his head up to meet Gu Heng’s gaze—those eyes full of fury, hostility, a dark and suffocating gloom that sent a chill through him. The tightening fingers pressed around his slender, pale neck, the veins beneath the skin pulsing under Gu Heng’s control—every breath, every throb of blood seeming to be dictated by his grasp.

Zuo Shihuan suddenly found it hard to breathe, his eyes filled with anger and defiance.

And in Gu Heng’s eyes, beneath the cold rage, there flashed a fleeting trace of hurt—so quick it was almost invisible. But on the surface, he only looked more aggressive, more ruthless.

Yet in truth, Gu Heng never used any real force.

Even though Zuo Shihuan had gone back on his word again and again, lied to him, deceived and humiliated him—no matter how furious Gu Heng became, he could never bring himself to harm Zuo Shihuan, not even slightly.

The strength that seemed fierce and overbearing actually left enough space for Zuo Shihuan to breathe easily. The momentary pressure of his grip loosened almost at once, leaving behind only the faintest trace of a mark that disappeared quickly.

An empty hold— just like the way Gu Heng now felt toward Zuo Shihuan: unable to grasp, impossible to control.

He looked like the one standing above, the one with power— yet in this so-called position of strength, he couldn’t draw even the smallest sense of security. Instead, he felt lonelier and more helpless than ever.

Because the one who appeared weaker—the “lower” Zuo Shihuan—was in truth the cold, merciless one, the real ruler who controlled everything about him, and who could so easily destroy him.