After the wedding, they could not return to the new home they had purchased together. Instead, they had to return to the Green Leaf Peninsula to have a meal with both sets of parents.
Los, who had been in confinement for a day, was finally released. He sat haggardly at the dining table, staring blankly at Li Yixing and Feng Zhao, who sat side by side. He wanted to say something, but ultimately closed his mouth under Stan Davis’s warning glare.
Li Yixing had no interest in the sumptuous spread on the table. After taking a few slow, measured bites, he stopped eating and began to observe Feng Zhao’s family.
He was already familiar with Feng Zhiyu and Feng Tingsong, so he did not dwell on them, instead letting his gaze fall on Feng Zhao’s other father, Fang Shengwan.
His features did not resemble Feng Zhao’s much. He looked more like Feng Zhiyu, and his eyes were amber. Li Yixing had learned some of his past due to the marriage arrangements. It was said that in his youth, he was a hot-commodity movie star who was quite popular. Now, he served as the director of the Yas District Performing Arts Troupe. His romance with Feng Tingsong was also a favorite topic among the media. According to available reports, the two had remained deeply affectionate and respectful toward one another for all these years.
Feng Zhao was their first child, conceived by Fang Shengwan using a gestational surrogate, while Feng Zhiyu was born through in-vitro embryo cultivation.
However, it was quite clear that Fang Shengwan preferred his younger son. People’s subconscious actions do not lie. Before they were seated, there had been an empty chair next to Feng Zhao, but on an evening where Feng Zhao was the protagonist, Fang Shengwan still chose to sit between his husband and his younger son.
Thus, Feng Zhao had Li Yixing on his left and Los on his right, with not a single family member in sight.
During the meal, Fang Shengwan kindly placed some food in Li Yixing’s bowl: “Yixing, you look so thin. You should eat more.”
Li Yixing retracted his gaze without a trace and replied politely: “Thank you.”
After saying this, Fang Shengwan glanced at Feng Zhao reproachfully, deliberately emphasizing his tone: “Xiao Zhao, Yixing will be your partner from now on. You must care for him and look after him more.”
Feng Zhao: “…”
He gave a perfunctory nod, then had a flash of inspiration and placed a slice of ginger in Li Yixing’s bowl that looked exactly like a piece of meat.
Li Yixing: “…”
Tit for tat, he placed a shrimp in Feng Zhao’s bowl, one that had been specially dipped in mustard sauce.
The two made eye contact for a moment, then, wearing gritted-teeth smiles, ate the food the other had served them.
I do not know how much time passed, but this meal, which felt like sitting on pins and needles, finally ended. Li Yixing and Feng Zhao both felt a sense of relief. As soon as they finished, they prepared to board their aircraft and leave immediately.
However, before boarding, Li Yixing’s hand was grabbed by Los. He turned his head and saw Los looking at him with tears in his eyes, appearing incredibly affectionate.
Li Yixing: “…”
“Yixing,” Los said to him with deep emotion, “I know you are not here of your own free will. I will wait for you to get a divorce!”
Feng Zhao leaned against the cabin door, watching Li Yixing being tugged at with great interest, showing no sign of awareness that he might be getting cuckolded.
Li Yixing sneered at this.
His adoptive brother, Los, was truly spoiled into a character that was both cowardly and self-righteous by their adoptive parents.
Political marriages were not so easily dissolved. If there were no accidents, he would be bound to Feng Zhao for a lifetime.
Li Yixing pulled his hand back firmly and stated his position flatly: “Los, I do not like you. As for Feng Zhao and me, we will not divorce.”
Between them, there was no divorce, Li Yixing thought. There would only be widowhood.
Li Yixing walked into the aircraft without looking back, and the cabin door shut with a bang. Los knelt on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably for his dead love.
It was nearly ten o’clock by the time they returned to their residence. On their first day of marriage, to avoid the gossip of the Yas Evening News and the various entertainment rags on Starnet, Li Yixing and Feng Zhao were forced to return to the duplex apartment they had purchased together.
The household robot 587 had been sent there as a “dowry” and stood side-by-side with Feng Zhao’s smart butler, Qiongqi. As soon as the door opened, they spoke in unison: “Sir, welcome home!”
Li Yixing and Feng Zhao sneered simultaneously, their gazes clashing like sparks from a flint.
Within three seconds, Li Yixing ripped off the cumbersome red tailcoat he was wearing and reached behind his leg to draw a butterfly knife, flipping it open instantly. On the other side, Feng Zhao, who harbored his own schemes, lunged from his ceremonial military uniform to pull out a triangular bayonet!
Both intended to strike first!
The sound of metal clashing rang out in the living room, and the two cold weapons threw sparks in the dim light!
In the living room, the AIs standing against the wall stalled for a second before issuing warnings: “Sir! Spouse brawling during the duration of a marriage is illegal!”
However, both men treated the AIs’ words as nothing, continuing to do as they pleased. Who knows who kicked over the coffee table, sending water spilling everywhere. Li Yixing delivered a downward kick with his long leg, crashing into Feng Zhao’s crossed forearms, and sneered: “Feng Zhao, I knew you were up to no good.”
Feng Zhao countered with a smile: “That is a rich comment from Department Chief Li.”
He exerted a sudden burst of strength to shove Li Yixing away: “Do you think you are innocent? What kind of sane person keeps a butterfly knife tucked into their shirt clip?!”
“Ha, the pot calling the kettle black,” Li Yixing said. “Did Major General Feng not also hide a triangular bayonet in his military dress uniform?”
After several rounds of physical combat, every punch landed on flesh. Both men were somewhat battered. Feng Zhao’s ceremonial uniform was slashed by the butterfly knife, leaving long bloody streaks on his arms, while Li Yixing’s shirt was torn, revealing dark purple bruises. The two robot butlers were terrified and intended to call the police, but Li Yixing and Feng Zhao kicked them into shutdown, sending them rolling across the floor with a clatter.
The blade moved toward his face, and Feng Zhao tilted his head to dodge. Li Yixing’s butterfly knife pierced the wall behind him with a bang, stabbing a shocking hole in it.
Wall dust rained down, which the dedicated cleaning robot dutifully swallowed.
Li Yixing kicked the interfering cleaning robot away and yanked his butterfly knife out. The blade of the bayonet was caught in mid-air by the butterfly knife! At the critical moment, Li Yixing suddenly withdrew his knife, and the triangular bayonet thrust toward his throat! Feng Zhao’s pupils contracted, and he twisted his wrist to stop the momentum and retract the bayonet. What a joke! He did not want to be a widower on his first day of marriage! Before he could fully withdraw it, Li Yixing’s fist moved as fast as a laser cannon, appearing out of nowhere and striking Feng Zhao heavily in the jaw!
An intense headache exploded from the bone. Feng Zhao was knocked sideways, stumbling, and wondered if he had been punched into a fracture. The metallic taste of blood rushed up, and he spat out the blood in his mouth, finally unable to help but curse: “Fuck! Li Yixing!”
Li Yixing smiled triumphantly: “How about that? Do you concede?”
Feng Zhao gritted his teeth, also revealing a smile: “I concede your ass!”
Whatever “care” and “concern” Fang Shengwan had spoken of was thrown to the back of Feng Zhao’s mind. He threw a straight punch, intent on returning the favor, and the two tangled together once more!
Eventually, the two ended up in a twisted embrace. Feng Zhao lay flat on his back, his spine pressed into the sofa, the bayonet in his hand pointed at the back of Li Yixing’s neck. Li Yixing was straddling Feng Zhao’s chest, the butterfly knife in his hand pressed against Feng Zhao’s Adam’s apple.
The living room was in shambles. It was fortunate that neither of them used any thermal weapons, or they would have surely demolished the house.
By the end, neither had won nor lost. They held this pose, deadlocked, for ten minutes, neither willing to be the first to lower their weapon.
Feng Zhao laughed in frustration, tilted his head to spit out more blood, and attempted to negotiate with Li Yixing: “You let go first.”
Li Yixing let out a “ha.” His complexion was snow-white, and he also spat out a mouthful of blood, but his hand did not move: “You let go first.”
Clearly, neither would back down. Feng Zhao looked up at the ceiling, feeling that marrying Li Yixing was truly the most wretched stroke of bad luck in his life.
“I will count to three, and we let go together.” Feng Zhao finally decided to take a step back, as the saying goes, take a step back and the sky will be wide, otherwise who knew how long this damned position would last?
Li Yixing clearly did not want to maintain this position forever, so he condescendingly gave a reluctant nod. Of course, the deeper reason was that the effects of the soothing agent had worn off, and the nausea was crashing over him like a tidal wave.
He was going to vomit.
Feng Zhao took a deep breath: “Then I am counting: 1.”
Before he could even reach 2, Li Yixing abruptly let go of the butterfly knife, swatted Feng Zhao’s hand away, stood up quickly, and strode toward the bathroom.
Feng Zhao was stunned for a moment, hearing the door shut with a bang, followed immediately by the sound of heavy water flow from inside.
The sound of the water perfectly masked Li Yixing’s vomiting. He flushed away everything he had brought up, rinsed his mouth, and splashed his face with water. Feng Zhao’s voice came from outside the door: “Li Yixing?”
“Get lost,” Li Yixing replied coldly.
The person outside the door clicked their tongue, as if condemning Li Yixing for being ungrateful, and the shadow of the man cast on the door receded.
Feng Zhao walked back to the messy living room, rebooted the two robots he had kicked into shutdown, and cleaned up the carnage.
The water was still running in the bathroom. Feng Zhao frowned. Based on Li Yixing’s physical condition, it was clear he had not reached the point of vomiting just from a fight. But ultimately, Feng Zhao did not probe further.
After all, he was just a marriage partner, Feng Zhao thought. Everyone has their own secrets.
There was no need for him to get to the bottom of Li Yixing’s life. They only needed to maintain a facade of harmony in front of the public.
Feng Zhao stretched his sore muscles, his peripheral vision keenly catching a glowing metal ring beside the sofa.
He leaned down and picked it up. It was the ring that should have been on Li Yixing’s finger.
Feng Zhao held it high, aligning it with the ceiling light. The ring emitted an extremely bright light, as if intending to blind him.
Even though Li Yixing had voiced much criticism regarding the ring, Feng Zhao still felt that the colored diamond ring suited Li Yixing very well.
He placed the ring back on the upright coffee table, slipped into a room, and locked the door with a bang.
The household robots restarted. When Li Yixing emerged from the bathroom, the entire living room had been put to rights. Aside from a few holes in the wall and a sofa gashed in several places by the knife and bayonet, showing that a fierce battle had occurred there, it was as peaceful as a quiet morning.
Feng Zhao had already entered one of the rooms to wash up and rest, and the door was tightly shut.
Li Yixing took a deep breath, steadying his chest, which was still heaving from the violent vomiting.
587 brought over a medical kit to treat the wounds on Li Yixing’s forearm.
The alcohol stung as it touched the wounds, and Li Yixing leaned back against the sofa, closing his eyes in exhaustion.
It was only when the rustling sound of 587 cleaning up the medical waste began that Li Yixing slowly opened his eyes. At the same time, he realized something seemed to be missing from his hand.
He raised his right hand. The multicolored ring on his ring finger was gone. It must have fallen off during the fight.
Li Yixing: “…”
This damned ring could not be lost. It was, after all, the proof of his union with Feng Zhao, a symbol of their “love.”
He stood up, his gaze sweeping the area, and the familiar glimmer on the coffee table caught his eye.
Li Yixing picked up the ring and tucked it into his palm.
This is, Li Yixing thought, the sum total of his marriage.