Zuo Shihuan took several deep breaths, but his face stayed red, his teeth clenched. He could still feel the damp, heated trace left on his palm by Gu Heng’s tongue.
He couldn’t decide whether to clench his fist or open it.
Thank heaven no one had seen that.
That…that sort of indecent intimacy, how could Gu Heng do something so shamelessly, so thick-skinned?
Zuo Shihuan couldn’t comprehend it.
Who was the one from a humble background again? With how Gu Heng behaved: crude, brazen, utterly shameless, anyone would think he was the one raised in a rough, lawless slum.
Just imagining himself doing something like that—
Zuo Shihuan froze, his face growing even redder from sheer embarrassment. He regretted even thinking such a ridiculous thing; his brain felt overheated, chaotic, like smoke was about to come out of his ears. He wanted to dig a hole and bury himself.
Truly, not everyone could be like Gu Heng.
And yet, he was the one who chose this shameless b*stard. He was the one who kept softening, indulging Gu Heng’s every transgression. Even when he regretted it, he couldn’t bring himself to push him away.
Still, he couldn’t keep letting Gu Heng get away with this.
Zuo Shihuan steeled himself, glared at Gu Heng, and even took a cautious step back.
“You’re not allowed to do that again. Es—especially those indecent little moves from just now! You nearly derailed the whole conversation! I was talking to you, and you weren’t listening, you’re always doing these shameless things…”
Gu Heng, suddenly being pushed away, looked utterly aggrieved. He pressed his lips together and said, “How was I shameless? I was listening. Every word you said, I remember it. If you want, Zuo Shihuan, I can recite it all back to you.”
Zuo Shihuan’s expression softened slightly. He hesitated, unsure whether to believe him, though, truthfully, part of him already did.
Seeing that, Gu Heng boldly stepped closer again, taking Zuo Shihuan’s relaxed hand into his own and pressing it against his cheek. His lashes trembled, and deep within his dark eyes flickered a sharp, cunning glint, the kind a hunter had when he’d perfectly read his prey. On the surface, though, he looked utterly patient, coaxing, harmless.
Outwardly, he even feigned pitiful innocence—
“What is it, Zuo Shihuan? You still don’t believe me?”
His dark eyes lowered slightly, not meeting Zuo Shihuan’s gaze. Instead, he turned toward the window, where the storm outside roared. His deep, black pupils reflected the rain, and in a low, quiet voice he said, as if trying to hide his own sadness, “I know you don’t really hate me. You’re just worried. Even if you’re strict with me, I’ve gotten used to it. But this time, I really did take your words to heart. I just… wanted to be a little closer to you.”
His eyes drooped, lashes trembling, pale lips pressing together. His voice dropped to a near-whisper.
“If you really don’t want me to… then from now on, I won’t do anything you don’t want.”
His cold, lonely tone carried the faintest thread of restrained grievance and it hit Zuo Shihuan straight in the heart.
His gaze softened at the sight of Gu Heng’s sorrowful profile, and his own chest seemed to ache, as if soaked through by the icy rain outside. A mix of pity, guilt, and confusion welled up in him.
Had he misunderstood Gu Heng?
Thinking it over, Gu Heng hadn’t actually done anything wrong. Perhaps he had his reasons for keeping secrets. He had never hurt Zuo Shihuan and had even risked exposure to protect him, again and again.
Maybe he was the one being too harsh.
Gu Heng had only been a bit too forward, wanting to be closer. It wasn’t such a terrible thing. By being so strict, so cold, hadn’t he truly wounded Gu Heng’s heart instead?
Maybe he was the hypocritical one.
Rejecting Gu Heng’s affection on one hand, yet demanding so much of him on the other.
While Gu Heng, for all his unruly, teasing ways, was always the one forgiving, tolerant, and patient, the one who made him relax, laugh, forget the burdens of reality for a while, and just be a simple, ordinary person who could freely show joy, anger, sorrow, and delight by Gu Heng’s side.
The one who had always been protected by Gu Heng was him.
At this moment, Zuo Shihuan fell into a state of remorseful reflection. His fists clenched tightly, then slowly loosened. He chose to ignore what a terrible, infuriating b*stard Gu Heng truly was, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt he had been the one in the wrong.
“I’m sorry. I went too far,” Zuo Shihuan suddenly said.
Gu Heng, who had only been pretending to be pitiful, froze instantly.
Zuo Shihuan’s gaze was filled with guilt and apology. Rubbing his forehead, he went on sincerely, “I didn’t mean that I dislike you. I just… don’t really know how to get along with you. I’ve never dated anyone before, so I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Anyway, I’ve been reflecting on my behavior, I did treat you unfairly. I’ll try to change. I hope you can forgive me.”
Forgive… who?
Gu Heng’s lips parted slightly. His pupils trembled, and when he looked at Zuo Shihuan’s earnest, apologetic expression, it felt almost unreal, like that apology he heard just now had to be an illusion.
Now it was Gu Heng’s turn to panic.
He had already prepared himself for Zuo Shihuan to see through him for Zuo Shihuan to realize that his pitiful act was just a ploy for sympathy, a way to coax Zuo Shihuan into showing him affection, giving him more excuses for physical closeness. Even if he got caught pretending, he figured he might at least go easy on him, seeing that he’d tried so hard to look pitiful.
Truthfully, he didn’t even mind Zuo Shihuan treating him that way. On the contrary, he enjoyed it.
Otherwise, why would he keep provoking him over and over again, testing the limits of his composure until that calm, ascetic façade finally cracked, and Zuo Shihuan showed him those flushed, flustered expressions of shame and anger?
Those vivid, genuine emotions he only ever showed him, they were what Gu Heng couldn’t get enough of.
Even though each time, he’d pretend to behave and admit fault, in truth, he’d never once reflected. He only delighted in it, and he’d do it again next time without hesitation.
But this time… Zuo Shihuan believed him. He even apologized to him.
Gu Heng couldn’t laugh it off, couldn’t meet those honest, amber-brown eyes and tell him he’d just been joking. Instead, his chest was full of something sour and uncertain, and yet somehow also overflowing with warmth and trembling joy that spread all through his heart.
“You don’t need to change. It’s me—” Gu Heng furrowed his brow, flustered, about to confess.
Before he could finish—
Zuo Shihuan studied his face, brows drawing together as if hesitating over something. Then, all at once, like he’d made up his mind, he rose on tiptoe and bit Gu Heng on the lips. The instant he pulled away, he made another quick, ambiguous little motion, so fast it was almost unnoticeable.
Gu Heng’s pupils dilated in shock, as though struck by lightning.
That fleeting sensation felt like a dream.
For a long second, he just touched his lips blankly, half in disbelief, then looked at the culprit again. It wasn’t his imagination, Zuo Shihuan had just copied one of his roguish tricks.
Zuo Shihuan cleared his throat twice, trying to act casual. His amber eyes shimmered faintly with embarrassment, and though his cheeks were flushed pink, he forced himself to speak with composed maturity: “It’s… actually not a big deal, right?”
Gu Heng stared at him for a while, his dark eyes suddenly lighting up like sparks about to ignite.
Zuo Shihuan thought he was being calm, but the heat on his face never faded. His amber eyes kept darting away, unable to meet Gu Heng’s gaze directly. He raised a hand to cover his lips in a show of nonchalance, then quickly, seriously said, “I’ve never done any of this before… but if this is what people do when they’re dating, then I’ll try to learn, one thing at a time.”
Gu Heng stared blankly at him, at the man in the crisp, elegant white suit, his flushed cheeks, his shy little smile that followed.
In that instant, it was as if a thunderclap exploded in the darkness of his heart.
The world went still, and then without warning, a storm surged through him. His heart began to pound wildly, so fast it hurt, echoing in his ears like a drumbeat threatening to burst.
Gu Heng surrendered.
“You don’t need to learn,” he murmured.
“Mm?”
In one swift motion, Gu Heng reached out and pulled Zuo Shihuan into his arms, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist and burying his face in the crook of his neck. His forehead rested against the other man’s pale skin, feeling the flow of warm blood beneath, his own heart thundering to match it. He pressed a soft, tender kiss into the dark strands of hair at Zuo Shihuan’s nape, breathing in the mix of scents clinging to his white suit, the lingering perfume and flower fragrances from the engagement banquet but underneath it all, there was still that faint, intoxicating trace of apple cider pheromone.
Just like Zuo Shihuan himself: gentle, intoxicating, quietly addictive. Unlike those overpowering floral scents, his was light and mesmerizing, impossible to let go of.
“What’s wrong with you all of a sudden?” Zuo Shihuan asked worriedly. Gu Heng had been holding him for a long time without saying a word. He was used to Gu Heng’s unpredictable moods, but this silence still made him uneasy.
Gu Heng’s lips trembled. He tried several times before he could speak, his dark eyes full of boundless affection, guilt, and bitterness. Finally, in a hoarse, choked voice that sounded both like surrender and a plea, he said:
“You don’t need to learn. At this point, even if you stabbed me in the heart, I’d accept it.”
“…What?” Zuo Shihuan blinked, dumbfounded, then frowned in irritation and lightly slapped Gu Heng’s back. “What kind of nonsense is that? If you keep making those stupid jokes, I’ll really get mad.”
“I’m not joking. I mean it.”
For the first time, Gu Heng wanted to thank whatever god or fate existed for letting a b*stard like him meet Zuo Shihuan, for letting him meet such a foolishly sweet Federation Alpha.
Of all things he could have learned, why did Zuo Shihuan have to learn his bad behavior?
Gu Heng knew Zuo Shihuan wasn’t actually stupid.
He simply trusted too easily, trusted someone like him. No matter what nonsense he spouted, Zuo Shihuan would take it to heart, treat it seriously, and respond with sincerity.
And yet Gu Heng couldn’t even manage the most basic honesty in return. He only kept making him worry about him.
If there truly was such a thing as karma, then someone like him, a complete and utter b*stard, deserved whatever punishment came his way. Even if it meant getting beaten up, he’d accept it. He believed it from the bottom of his heart, and he said it just as honestly aloud.
Gu Heng’s expression darkened. Suddenly, he stood up and gripped Zuo Shihuan’s shoulders with both hands, his face deadly serious. “How about you take this chance to punch me… hard.”
“Why would I punch you?” Zuo Shihuan was utterly bewildered.
“No, you should hit me. Don’t hold back out of pity. Zuo Shihuan, haven’t you ever wanted to punch me?”
“This…” Zuo Shihuan’s gaze flickered evasively, he couldn’t deny that there had been moments when Gu Heng had angered him enough to imagine it.
“Then what are you waiting for? Don’t know how? I can teach you. Take this chance, you can hit me anywhere you want.”
Gu Heng took Zuo Shihuan’s wrist and lifted it up, his expression serious and focused, like he was training a new recruit heading into battle rather than teaching someone how to throw a punch.
“Bend your elbow slightly. When you strike, use the force from your muscles to spring forward. That’s the most efficient way to hit an enemy. But you’d better aim for softer areas like the abdomen or waist, my other bones are too hard, I’m afraid you’ll hurt your hand.”
After all, Gu Heng was an elite S-rank Alpha. With years of high-intensity combat training and repeated tempering on the battlefield, his bones were far denser and harder than those of ordinary people, almost steel-like.
Even if he stood still and let someone hit him, odds were the one who got injured would be the other person.
To Gu Heng, even though Zuo Shihuan was also an Alpha, he still seemed so fragile and defenseless that it made him anxious and protective. He couldn’t help but frown, his expression grave as he instructed earnestly, not hiding a single bit of knowledge.
“If you ever run into an enemy like me, even if you’re an Alpha, you mustn’t hesitate, turn and run immediately. Never think you can fight out of pride.”
Just imagining Zuo Shihuan facing such danger especially if it happened when he wasn’t there to protect him filled Gu Heng with a deep, twisting unease. He quickly forced down the wave of worry in his chest, grasped Zuo Shihuan’s arm again, and continued guiding him.
“Why don’t you practice on me first? That way, if something like this ever happens, you’ll know what to do. Try attacking me once using the method I just showed you. Some spots on the body are fatal to others, but not to me. Still, it’s good for you to learn where they are.”
As he spoke, Gu Heng took Zuo Shihuan’s hand and pressed it against his own abdomen, showing him where a human body was most vulnerable.
Even through the single layer of clothing, Zuo Shihuan could feel the firm, resilient lines of Gu Heng’s abs, muscles smooth and taut with raw, restrained strength. The faint elasticity beneath his palm shocked him into momentary stillness.
And Gu Heng’s low, magnetic voice murmured beside his ear.
Zuo Shihuan felt dazed, his mind foggy, his wide eyes unfocused. He couldn’t even hear what Gu Heng was saying anymore, nor understand what he himself was doing…
By the time Gu Heng finished his long, detailed explanation, Zuo Shihuan was still standing there, looking utterly blank.
Gu Heng, however, figured he’d taught enough; what remained was practical training. So he said, “You can try now. Use the technique I just showed you.”
But Zuo Shihuan only blinked at him, still lost and innocent-looking.
Gu Heng sighed helplessly, stepped closer, and reached for Zuo Shihuan’s hand to correct his stance. His deep black eyes were full of tenderness and affection, as if even guiding Zuo Shihuan’s clenched fist toward his own body was something he gladly accepted and even then, he worried about hurting Zuo Shihuan’s hand.
Gu Heng couldn’t help but laugh at himself.
He never imagined there would come a day when he’d willingly act like a fool for someone, when getting slapped by that person would even feel like a kind of pleasure.
Perhaps this was what they called love… sweet, foolish love.
Smiling faintly, Gu Heng said, “If you don’t know how, I’ll guide you hand in hand.”
The moment Zuo Shihuan’s arm was pulled, he snapped out of his daze.
His eyes widened in alarm as he realized what Gu Heng was up to again. He yanked his hand free, stumbling backward several steps in a hurry. Breathing hard, he stood at a safe distance, his face pale and wary.
After a long pause, he finally found his voice, shouting in baffled anger, “No! Why on earth would I hit you for no reason!?”
Gu Heng blinked. “Why not?”
Zuo Shihuan was speechless. Several curse words from his slum days nearly slipped out, but he bit them back. Scowling, he snapped, “Because I’m a normal person! Normal people don’t just go around hitting others!”
“What’s the big deal? I’m giving you permission.” Gu Heng even took a step forward as he said it.
Zuo Shihuan nearly had a panic reaction, yelling, “Don’t come any closer! Or I’ll really—”
But when he saw the expectant gleam in Gu Heng’s eyes, he fell silent. The rest of his words really hit you died on his tongue.
Something told him that if he said it, Gu Heng would actually look forward to it.
Groaning, Zuo Shihuan pressed a hand to his forehead. “That’s not the point! It’s not about whether you give permission or not…”
Gu Heng paused to think, then seemed to understand what Zuo was worried about. Frowning, he said, “It’s not without reason. Zuo Shihuan, I’m teaching you how to deal with enemies. Don’t worry about hurting me, you’re still too weak anyway.”
“I’m too weak!?”
Zuo Shihuan’s temper flared instantly. He might have grown up struggling and fighting in the lower districts, but he was still an Alpha and Gu Heng dared to call him weak?
If he didn’t suspect Gu Heng of doing it on purpose to rile him up, he might’ve actually hit the arrogant man then and there.
Still, no matter how angry he got, Zuo Shihuan wasn’t someone who’d start a fight over something so ridiculous. He wasn’t like Gu Heng, who treated everything as an excuse to mess around.
Suppressing his anger, Zuo Shihuan said coldly, “Say whatever you want. I’m not doing it. If you’re that bored, go run a few laps in the rain.”
Just then, a flash of lightning streaked through the corridor, and the rain pelting against the windows of the Federation Hotel crackled and splattered—loud, cheerful, as if wordlessly inviting someone to join in a feast beneath the storm.
Gu Heng lifted his eyes to meet Zuo Shihuan’s cold, distant expression and answered in a low, steady voice, entirely unbothered: “If you want me to go, then I’ll go out and let the rain drench me. So what?”
Zuo Shihuan’s pupils contracted slightly. He instinctively glanced toward the thunder and lightning outside but drew back, clenching his molars as he said stiffly, “I’m not as childish as you are, doing whatever you want just because you feel like it, never sparing a thought for how others might feel or what they might think.”
Gu Heng’s face went pale, but he stubbornly insisted, “I’m only worried about you.”
Zuo Shihuan didn’t feel the least bit moved by that. If anything, Gu Heng’s words made his blood boil. He was so frustrated he nearly wanted to go out into the rain himself, just to cool his overheated, fuming head.
Clenching his jaw, Zuo Shihuan jabbed a finger at him, laughing in exasperation.
“Worried about me? You hurt me and call that worrying? Gu Heng, you’re always doing these incomprehensible things—always charging ahead on your own, convinced you’re doing what’s best for me! But I’m an Alpha. I can take care of myself. I don’t need you worrying over me!”
“I can’t do that. And neither can you,” Gu Heng murmured suddenly, lowering his head before lifting his gaze again. In his deep, dark eyes, a flash of something rich and twisted, he smiled.
It was a smile, yet in the dim light, it sent a chill crawling down the spine.
Zuo Shihuan’s eyes flickered. He dug his nails into his palm, stopping himself from reaching out to touch those eyes that seemed proud and defiant but were, in truth, deeply unsettled. A pang of sorrow stirred in his chest, familiar and painful.
He cursed Gu Heng silently in his heart.
What a d*mned fool.
A stupid, reckless fool.
Zuo Shihuan thought he’d be furious but instead, he found himself understanding the foolish things Gu Heng did out of fear and insecurity. His lips curved in helpless amusement.
He was just as foolish.
He couldn’t stop worrying about Gu Heng, just as Gu Heng couldn’t stop worrying about him.
Two people like opposing blades, sharp points meeting so different in every way, yet so alike at the core.
Zuo Shihuan had always thought he and Gu Heng were complete opposites, but at this moment he realized: at their essence, they were the same kind of person. Proud, unyielding, relentless in pursuit of strength, both needing control over everything and everyone around them.
Because when one feels insecure, one seeks control.
Because when one fears loss, one becomes frantic and restless.
Zuo Shihuan understood that feeling all too well, that suffocating, helpless anxiety that clung to him every moment. No matter how hard he worked, he always felt as if one day everything would spiral out of control again as if despair would come crashing down, turning his world upside down. The more anxious he was, the more he tried to control everything, until his mind and body were worn to chaos.
Just as he feared losing Gu Heng, Gu Heng, too, feared losing him. That was why Gu Heng acted so uneasy, so desperate.
Two anxious people together and yet, strangely, Zuo Shihuan felt comfort in that.
Like two dying embers nearly snuffed out by the wind, each too proud to lean on the other, yet when they accidentally came together, their shared warmth drove back a loneliness colder than fear itself.
How could Zuo Shihuan possibly stay angry at such a lost, anxious Gu Heng?
He found himself caught in a dilemma.
If he punished Gu Heng, it made him feel cruel; and even if he wanted to, his heart was too soft to follow through. But if he forgave him, Gu Heng would only push further, never learning, until Zuo Shihuan was once again driven up the wall.
Especially because Gu Heng had underestimated him.
At that thought, Zuo Shihuan’s face chilled. His pride couldn’t accept always being treated as someone in need of protection especially after Gu Heng had just said, to his face, that he was too weak.
He refused to be seen as weak.
Zuo Shihuan didn’t think he was weak at all, it was only that Gu Heng was too… unusual. But clearly, Gu Heng still didn’t trust him. Always hesitating, always hiding his true identity, always avoiding a straight answer.
Then, suddenly, Zuo Shihuan’s mind cleared.
Could it be… Gu Heng was doing it on purpose?
That would explain why he kept dodging questions, why he always did strange, absurd things to distract him from asking too much.
The more Zuo Shihuan thought about it, the more he felt certain, he was being toyed with.
“So you’ve been hiding things from me because you think I’m too weak? That I’ll just get in your way?”
Zuo Shihuan gave a low, self-mocking laugh. His voice trembled faintly with hurt and anger, his gaze growing colder.
“I never thought you’d get in my way,” Gu Heng said, frowning.
“Who knows? In your eyes, I’m just weak and clueless, you do everything without me knowing a thing. Maybe you’re just feeling guilty for something you’ve done behind my back, and that’s why you wanted me to hit you.”
Zuo Shihuan let out a bitter, mocking chuckle.
For a split second, guilt flickered through Gu Heng’s dark eyes.
He couldn’t deny it, the guilt he carried for what he’d done to Zuo Shihuan.
Seeing Gu Heng fall silent, Zuo Shihuan knew he’d hit the mark. But there was no satisfaction in being right.
His hands clenched tightly, his pale face tensed, his tone edged with sharpness and acid.
“So it’s true. You go to such lengths to hide things from me, what is it you’re afraid I’ll find out? Are you keeping secrets because you’ve done something you shouldn’t? Like meeting your old flame behind my back? Just like the last time I saw you, all friendly and close with that Omega woman at the mall.”
Gu Heng’s pupils shrank sharply as he looked at Zuo Shihuan’s pale, wounded face. He quickly denied it, his voice urgent and sincere: “No. I have nothing to do with them. I only used them for a mission. Besides you, Zuo Shihuan, I want no one else.”
“A mission?”
“Yes. That last time was only part of the mission. I haven’t seen any of them since.”
Zuo Shihuan stared at him for a long moment. Seeing Gu Heng’s uneasy, almost desperate expression like a prisoner waiting for judgment with nothing false in his open, earnest eyes, he finally chose to believe him.
In truth, he didn’t really believe Gu Heng would willingly do such things but who could know what the people controlling Gu Heng might force him to do behind the scenes?
Ever since Zuo Shihuan had met Gu Heng, he had personally witnessed him caught in one dangerous situation after another. How could he not worry?
Zuo Shihuan gave a bitter smile and said, “But since it’s part of a mission, there must be things beyond your control. If someone’s forcing you, I can’t blame you for that, it’s still just duty, right?”
“No one dares force me to do anything,” Gu Heng said sharply, his brows furrowing.
“I see. Even if you’ve done similar missions before, I won’t hold it against you. You don’t have to hide it from me,” Zuo Shihuan replied calmly though his tone clearly didn’t match what he truly believed.
Now Gu Heng truly understood what it meant to have no words to defend oneself.
Grinding his teeth, he hurriedly explained, “It’s true no one’s forcing me. No one can force me. The missions are legitimate. The people you mentioned are mostly my subordinates or informants, strictly work-related, nothing else.”
Zuo Shihuan nodded and even tried to comfort him.
“Mm, I know. If you say there’s nothing, then there’s nothing. It’s fine, I understand. I don’t really mind your past. After all, I didn’t come from any good place myself. Sometimes life doesn’t leave us choices. Even I used to fight illegal underground matches just to pay my tuition.”
He said he didn’t mind but he did mind.
Gu Heng could tell Zuo Shihuan had completely misunderstood. If he let this go on, he’d end up in Zuo Shihuan’s eyes as some shameless man who’d do anything for a mission, seducing others as he pleased. Hiding the truth any longer seemed pointless.
“What if I told you what I actually do?” Gu Heng said quietly, his dark gaze deep and unreadable. A faint, helpless smile tugged at his lips.
Zuo Shihuan’s eyes brightened for a moment, but he still shook his head.
“I don’t want to force you.”
In silence, Gu Heng reached into the lining of his jacket and pulled out an identification card. Its blue cover was stamped with the official seal of the Federation, and beneath the golden star was an unusual emblem, a shield. He opened it, revealing his photo: Gu Heng in a navy-blue uniform of the Federation Intelligence Service.
“I’m an agent of the Federation Bureau of Secret Investigation,” Gu Heng said in a cool, formal tone. “Code number AT10089. Born on XX Planet. Age, twenty. You could say I’m a certified public servant of the Federation.”
He held the document out for Zuo Shihuan to see.
Zuo Shihuan studied it for a long while in silence.
“Now you believe me, right?” Gu Heng said with a sigh. “I’m an official agent, nothing like those wild, romantic ideas you’ve been imagining.”
He couldn’t help but be exasperated by Zuo Shihuan’s overactive imagination. That mission had long faded from his memory, yet Zuo Shihuan had kept it in his heart, still brooding over it, even getting jealous.
Though that jealousy made Zuo Shihuan look adorably sour, Gu Heng still wanted to clear things up right away. He didn’t want insignificant people from the past to cast a shadow over what they had.
“You don’t believe me?” Gu Heng asked.
“No, I do.” Zuo Shihuan smiled faintly, but his eyes dimmed. He handed the badge back. “It’s real, huh. I’m a bit surprised. But in spy movies, isn’t every secret agent surrounded by beautiful people? Always so lucky in love.”
“You said it yourself, they’re movies. In real life, there aren’t so many beauties. And if we are talking about beauty, I’ve only met one, an Alpha beauty named Zuo Shihuan.”
Gu Heng arched a brow, tucking away his badge with a teasing grin. He lifted his chin slightly; the gleam in his dark eyes carried both mischief and pride, his lips curving. Thin, soft, and tinted red like the very image of a charming movie spy.
If there were any “beauty” here, it was Gu Heng himself, his face alone could stop hearts. Any spy film director who saw him would probably want to replace the lead on the spot.
“I’m not nearly as vain as you are,” Zuo Shihuan said with a helpless laugh, shaking his head. But his smile soon faded, his gaze turning faint and wistful. If only Gu Heng were just an ordinary Beta with a pretty face, he thought.
“Why do you look unhappy?” Gu Heng’s dark eyes tightened with worry. “You still don’t believe I work for the Bureau?”
He was anxious, afraid Zuo Shihuan had noticed something amiss.
He hadn’t lied. He truly was part of the Federation Bureau of Secret Investigation.
But he had hidden another truth. He was also a man of the Empire.
No matter how flawless his Federation identity papers were, he knew every part of them was false. Yet before Zuo Shihuan, he had to be a Federation man. Even if it meant playing the government’s dog, he’d do it willingly.
“It’s nothing,” Zuo Shihuan said, forcing a smile. “You told me everything. I should be happy for you. It’s just… it’s hard to believe that you, of all people, a lawless b*stard, is actually a government agent.”
He tried to laugh lightly, but his light-brown eyes gradually filled with weary sadness. The corners reddened as he clenched his fists, his voice catching as he choked out,
“I just never thought you’d be so… proper. For one selfish, shameful moment, I even wished you weren’t… that you were part of something shadowy and forbidden. That way, maybe I’d have an excuse to pull you away… away from all that danger.”
He quickly caught himself and said softly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t think that way. Gu Heng, working for the Federation is something to be proud of. As a citizen, I really am proud of you.”
But as Zuo Shihuan, he only wished Gu Heng could be ordinary.
He didn’t need him to be exceptional or heroic; didn’t need him to make sacrifices for the Federation.
He just wanted Gu Heng to stay by his side as an ordinary man, living an ordinary life.
Unfortunately, the simplest things were always the hardest for the two of them.
Zuo Shihuan stubbornly tried to hide the dampness gathering in the corners of his eyes. He turned his head and forced a smile at Gu Heng, saying, “Forget what I just said. Gu Heng, just do whatever you want to do. I already know you work for the Federation Government, so that puts my mind at ease. At least I don’t have to worry that one day you’ll commit some crime and suddenly be thrown into a federal prison, right?”
Gu Heng froze, his whole body going rigid. He quietly stared at Zuo Shihuan’s forced smile, it felt as if his chest were being carved open, torn apart piece by piece by his own hands yet he didn’t even have the courage to step forward and hold him, to offer comfort.
How could someone dark and selfish ever be Zuo Shihuan?
The truly dark and despicable one was him.
He had claimed to be honest with Zuo Shihuan, yet he was nothing but a liar, vile, shameless, every ugly word imaginable suited him perfectly.
“Let’s not talk about that anymore, my Federation Agent boyfriend. Where are we going next?” Zuo Shihuan adjusted his mood and regained his smile, teasing as he leaned in to kiss Gu Heng.
“Back to my safe house.”
“Oh? Will your safe house be like in the movies, filled with all kinds of secret agent gadgets?”
“You’ll know when you get there.”
“So mysterious. But I’ll find out sooner or later.” Zuo Shihuan lifted his chin, giving Gu Heng a provocative look.
This time, Gu Heng only returned the kiss without answering. He smiled faintly as he brushed his fingers through the soft black hair at the back of Zuo Shihuan’s neck, his thumb tracing along the smooth skin of his cheek.
When Zuo Shihuan smiled back at him with that intimate, trusting look—
His movements froze for an instant.
Gu Heng pulled him into his arms, tenderly kissed his forehead, and rested his chin atop Zuo Shihuan’s head. A low, muffled laugh rumbled from his chest.
It looked like he was laughing.
But in truth, Gu Heng’s eyes were full of pain and guilt. He tilted his head upward, unwilling to let Zuo Shihuan see how ugly and false his smile really was.
He silently answered Zuo Shihuan’s earlier question in his heart—
—No.
—You will never know.
If being an upright, honest man meant losing Zuo Shihuan, then Gu Heng would rather be utterly despicable. He would carry this grand, shameful lie to the very end—
And hide it from Zuo Shihuan for a lifetime.
