It’s None Of Your Business
Over the next few days, Jiang Zhuoye had a great time on his own.
The island, as a world-class vacation destination, offered countless activities for guests.
Bo Yun, completely unamused, wasted the beautiful scenery on the beach, spending most of his time buried in work in the study, only occasionally appearing at the pool or gym.
Jiang Zhuoye couldn’t understand it, but it didn’t matter—he’d enjoy it all for both of them.
A fan of sports, he spent days on water activities: surfing, diving, sailing, and even catching his own dinner.
The island also had the only private submarine nearby, which he got to ride.
As it descended, he pressed against the window to look outside. The water had lost its clarity, turning dark and mysterious. Small sharks swam by, looking more cute than dangerous.
The guide enthusiastically explained that a sunken ship from a century ago could be seen at a deeper level.
Jiang Zhuoye thought that Bo Yun would probably never try this—he had a mild fear of deep water.
He smirked mischievously, thinking if not for his lack of strength and fear of his brother’s scolding, he might have tried to drag Bo Yun in.
Within a couple of days, Jiang Zhuoye made new friends.
Although there were only nine villas and guests rarely crossed paths, he met a brother-sister pair at the recreational area.
The sister was Chloe, the brother Leo.
They were nineteen and twenty-one, with similar brown curly hair and delicate features. Mixed-race, their mother was Chinese, so they spoke some Chinese.
They noticed Jiang Zhuoye first.
He was at the tennis court, playing with a partner, sweat dripping from his forehead, lips red like rose juice, looking handsome and energetic.
Chloe squinted slightly upstairs, admiring the sweat rolling down his forehead.
She nudged her brother: “Think I can get his contact info?”
Leo glanced at the court. Jiang Zhuoye had just scored a point and smiled triumphantly.
The coach wiped his sweat and shook Jiang Zhuoye’s hand.
Jiang Zhuoye went with him to get drinks.
“Should be fine,” Leo said, smiling. “He seems approachable.”
Jiang Zhuoye was indeed easygoing.
When Chloe asked him to play tennis with them, he quickly agreed. He had found the island too empty and boring, and meeting peers was perfect.
The siblings were beautiful and delicate, like twin roses, especially Leo with his lake-green eyes and catlike smile.
For the next few days, Jiang Zhuoye spent time with them.
He spoke some French, the siblings spoke some Chinese, so communication was somewhat broken but manageable.
They surfed, played beach volleyball, went kayaking, and visited the island’s museum and art gallery.
“I really don’t have any artistic sense,” Jiang Zhuoye said, standing outside the boundary lines, biting his ice cream, looking at a cave painting in front of him. Although it was said to be tens of thousands of years old and represented the spark of human civilization, he couldn’t see anything impressive. “Isn’t this just some cavemen picking fruit?”
Leo glanced at him speechlessly. “Vulgar.”
He, however, really liked the painting. He was completely captivated, staring at it in fascination for a long time.
But soon he noticed a bit of ice cream on Jiang Zhuoye’s lips.
Jiang Zhuoye noticed it too and rolled his tongue, scooping the little bit of herbal-flavored ice cream into his mouth.
Because of eating the ice cream, his lips were wet and even redder—like someone had kissed them recklessly.
Leo watched for a moment and then let out a mysterious little laugh.
He asked Jiang Zhuoye, “Does it taste good?”
“Hmm, not bad,” Jiang Zhuoye mumbled. “You can try it; I think this flavor is only available this season.”
Before he could finish, he saw Leo lean down and bite onto his spoon, taking the bite he had been about to eat.
Leo bit the spoon, letting the fresh herbal flavor spread in his mouth, and lifted his deep, expressive eyes to glance at Jiang Zhuoye.
He smiled lazily. “It’s okay, I guess, but I don’t really like herbs.”
Jiang Zhuoye was speechless. Although he was generally easygoing, he wasn’t used to sharing things so intimately, especially a spoon.
But looking at Leo’s innocent face, he didn’t take it to heart and just assumed foreigners were more open.
He set the ice cream aside and didn’t touch it again.
“Then pick something else,” he said to Leo. “I want another serving of vanilla anyway.”
What Jiang Zhuoye didn’t know was that his legal partner was standing upstairs, watching him.
Bo Yun stood on the second floor, his eyelashes lowered.
After finishing work that day, he had decided to relax for a bit.
He first went to the island’s botanical garden, which had many rare local species, and then, since the museum was nearby, he stopped by there as well.
He hadn’t expected to run into his partner with someone else.
These past few days, he hadn’t accompanied Jiang Zhuoye, letting him roam the island alone. The island was safe, so no harm could come of it.
Since they hadn’t slept together these days, their communication had been almost zero. He had no idea what Jiang Zhuoye had been up to on the island.
But now Bo Yun knew.
His lashes lowered as he observed everything downstairs.
He thought, Jiang Zhuoye really is Jiang Zhuoye—even with only seven other guests on the island, he still managed to find the perfect “playmates.”
Bo Yun narrowed his eyes slightly.
He saw the brown-haired French boy biting Jiang Zhuoye’s ice cream.
Jiang Zhuoye didn’t notice anything wrong and continued chatting with the boy. Then he picked up a glass of juice and handed it to a girl, saying something that made the girl, who had a headscarf on, laugh, revealing cute dimples. She even placed a flower crown on Jiang Zhuoye’s head.
The three young people stood by the sofa downstairs, their fresh, youthful faces, even doing nothing, seemed to light up the slightly dim museum.
Bo Yun lightly furrowed his brows.
He thought he had seen this pair of siblings at some previous gathering.
He didn’t particularly admire them.
Only someone as naive as Jiang Zhuoye would so unguardedly play with people like this.
But who knows, maybe Jiang Zhuoye was naturally drawn to such people.
He smirked slightly at the thought.
The guide beside him stayed quiet, waiting patiently.
Bo Yun had paused suddenly, and although the guide didn’t understand why, he immediately stopped as well, silently waiting.
But Bo Yun didn’t linger long and soon said to the guide, “Continue.”
….
That night, Jiang Zhuoye returned very late.
He had gone with Chloe and her brother to watch a nighttime folk performance and had a few cocktails, so he smelled faintly of alcohol.
His tolerance wasn’t great, and the drinks were strong, so he walked unsteadily when he returned.
He first went to his room, took off his top, and then remembered it was Thursday. In principle, he was supposed to sleep in Bo Yun’s room.
Feeling slightly annoyed but still in a good mood, he went directly to Bo Yun’s room after a brief sulk.
This was actually his bedroom too, so he knew the place well. His cheeks were flushed from the alcohol. Without knocking, he pushed the door open and went in.
Bo Yun was reading and preparing to rest.
Seeing Jiang Zhuoye enter, he raised an eyebrow and glanced at the clock beside him.
2:30 a.m.
He hadn’t expected Jiang Zhuoye to come that night and hadn’t intended to remind him, only planning to deduct his allowance.
But Jiang Zhuoye now stumbled in, carrying a faint scent of alcohol.
In the dim room, his eyes shone brightly. His light-colored shirt was undone, a few buttons open, revealing a patch of skin.
A black obsidian pendant swayed between his collarbones, giving him an inexplicably alluring air.
Jiang Zhuoye saw Bo Yun but didn’t greet him, going straight to the bathroom.
The hot water relaxed his entire body.
Still a bit sleepy, he didn’t notice he had worn the wrong pajamas and emerged wrapped in Bo Yun’s instead, flopping onto the bed.
The bed shook slightly.
Bo Yun, irritated by the noise, lost interest in reading. Especially since Jiang Zhuoye’s hair wasn’t completely dry and had left wet marks on the bedding, triggering his cleanliness obsession.
He closed his book and looked at Jiang Zhuoye, who looked innocent, his cheeks slightly flushed, unclear whether from alcohol or the hot shower.
Seeing Bo Yun staring, Jiang Zhuoye playfully blew a puff of air and asked, smiling, “What? Staring at me?”
Bo Yun held back, refraining from pulling him off the bed.
He didn’t need to argue over such trivial matters.
Still staring at Jiang Zhuoye’s face, he asked, “So, did you enjoy yourself on the island these past few days?”
Jiang Zhuoye paused, surprised that Bo Yun actually cared.
He thought for a moment, unusually not bickering, and said lazily, “It’s okay. There are plenty of fun spots. The island’s shooting range is great, but there are too few people. The whole island is too quiet, just staff hiding around.”
He yawned. “I should have brought a few friends.”
Bo Yun snorted.
He thought, with so few guests on this island, Jiang Zhuoye still managed to make friends.
His eyes lowered, catching Jiang Zhuoye yawning. His lips were soft and full, slightly bitten, giving off a strangely youthful charm.
Yet his facial features were sharp, a handsome young face with long, dense eyelashes and bright eyes—clearly attractive.
For some reason, Bo Yun recalled the scene at the museum that afternoon: the French boy gently biting Jiang Zhuoye’s spoon.
At that moment, Jiang Zhuoye had probably looked at that young boy with the same expression.
His lashes drooped, feeling oddly displeased.
He wanted to warn Jiang Zhuoye not to get too close to those two.
They weren’t gentle, harmless flowers—they were poison-tipped.
But his lashes twitched slightly. He knew even if he warned Jiang Zhuoye, he wouldn’t listen.
After all, this person loved to go against him.
It seemed all advice from him carried inherent danger.
Bo Yun thought for a moment and let it go. The island was safe, and the guests respectable. That sibling duo might be annoying, but they wouldn’t dare cause trouble.
A week later, they would leave anyway, so he didn’t need to meddle with Jiang Zhuoye’s friendships—it might even backfire.
He flipped a page in his book and murmured, “Well, at least one of us is enjoying the honeymoon.”
He paused, then added, “But I hope you don’t come back too late, especially after midnight. And when you come to my room, keep it quiet. Don’t disturb my rest.”
Hah.
Jiang Zhuoye sneered. The fleeting soft mood from earlier just vanished.
“No, can’t do,” he said bluntly. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to let me come over.”
What a joke.
He married Bo Yun, not joined some puritanical church. Who goes home before midnight? If marrying Bo Yun meant following such rules, he’d tear up the agreement and pack to leave.
His brother wouldn’t be able to stop him anyway.
He glanced at Bo Yun provocatively. “I don’t have a curfew at home, let alone here, Mr. Bo. Don’t think you’re all-powerful.”
Jiang Zhuoye smiled lightly, almost sweetly, but his words were far from gentle.
“I come back whenever I want. You can’t control that.”
He didn’t care about Bo Yun, he sprawled comfortably, and even blew him a teasing kiss.
Hah.
Bo Yun sneered inwardly.
He narrowed his eyes, thinking Jiang Zhuoye was utterly reckless.
He asked softly, his voice gentle: “So, you mean you think we have no right to interfere with each other’s habits, nor do we need to consider the other person’s feelings, right?”
Jiang Zhuoye closed his eyes and answered firmly: “Yes.”
Bo Yun looked down at him for a moment, raising one eyebrow.
“Alright,” he said calmly.
…
The next day, Jiang Zhuoye quickly learned just how petty Bo Yun could be.
At six in the morning, when Jiang Zhuoye’s biological clock hadn’t even reached wake-up time, Bo Yun’s alarm went off precisely on time.
Jiang Zhuoye was furious. Covering his head with a pillow didn’t help; he had no choice but to crawl out from under the blanket and shout at Bo Yun.
“Bo Yun, turn it off!”
Bo Yun acted as if he hadn’t heard, getting up leisurely in a gray robe, sipping a glass of mint water, watching Jiang Zhuoye’s angry face as he looked ready to leap onto him and hit him.
Only then did Bo Yun reach over and turn off the alarm.
“Sorry,” he said calmly, but without much sincerity. “I suddenly felt like going for a run earlier today. You’ll just have to deal with it.”
He said that and strolled out, leaving a sleep-disturbed Jiang Zhuoye behind.
Jiang Zhuoye angrily hurled a pillow at his back.
He missed.