Hearing this explanation, Gu Qingze’s heart trembled.
The heart that had been hanging in suspense finally died.
He screamed internally: No way, how can fainting cause a bug like this?!
Gu Qingze closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at A-Xing. With a detached gaze and a calm tone, he said, “I am neither your partner nor your Lord. As of today, we have known each other for a total of two days.”
Gu Qingze stood tall, looking down at A-Xing, who was kneeling with a pale face. His eye rims seemed a little redder than they had been at the beginning, making him look as though he were about to cry.
Yet, what he spoke was indeed the truth, and he had no desire to be inexplicably bound to a stranger in such a relationship—at least, not until he figured out his own identity.
This person was very strange and did not look like someone from this world.
He had fallen unexpectedly from the sky, but Gu Qingze did not believe in sudden, coincidental accidents; he was much more inclined to suspect malicious intentions.
Gu Qingze lowered his gaze, took the ruler from A-Xing’s raised hands, weighed it in his palm for a moment, and turned to walk outside.
His deep, magnetic voice echoed leisurely: “Get ready to leave this place. I will have someone send you out and temporarily provide you with a place to settle down for a month. After a month, I expect you to leave on your own. I saved you, but amnesia is not an excuse for you to freeload off me.”
With that, his footsteps gradually faded away.
A-Xing still held his hands up, maintaining the posture of offering the ruler. His arms were beginning to ache with soreness.
The air seemed to grow heavy, inch by inch pressing down on his raised hands until they dropped limply to his sides.
A-Xing blinked, and the blur before his eyes cleared up, though a warm dampness seemed to streak across his face.
It felt itchy, yet his heart swelled with a bitter ache.
His fingertips curled slightly. A-Xing blinked in bewilderment. He was being chased out—why? He and the Lord had been married for only a month, yet he was already being cast aside. Would he die? Would the Insect Protection Association even allow such a situation to exist?
In A-Xing’s current memories, he only remembered that he and Gu Qingze had married. However, throughout this past month, Gu Qingze had never touched him, remaining constantly busy with other matters.
A few days ago, Gu Qingze had suddenly taken a fancy to him and “cherished” him thoroughly, leaving his body covered in continuous wounds. After fainting and being admitted to the infirmary, he woke up to find that many of his previous memories were blurred, leaving only the firm belief that Gu Qingze was his Lord.
Yet his Lord seemed to dislike him completely and was now driving him away.
He could not remember whether he had a maternal father or a paternal father, nor could he remember if he had any friends. Now that he was cast out, A-Xing had no idea where he should go…
A-Xing lowered his head, quietly kneeling in the same spot for a long time.
After a while, A-Xing blinked. When he raised his gaze again, his purple pupils were shrouded in a blank, ash-gray haze.
Forget it, if I die, I die.
A-Xing slowly stood up. Kneeling for so long had left his legs numb; as he stood in place for a moment, a wave of pins and needles crept up, and his legs began to soften. After steadying himself for a good while, he finally started walking outside.
On the other side, in the study, Gu Qingze took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had just finished a meeting, maintaining a cold expression the entire time that had terrified everyone into avoiding eye contact with him. To be honest, it was quite exhausting.
Gu Qingze reached out to grab his nearby coffee, only to find the cup empty. With a soft click of his tongue, he stood up and walked out.
The living room was quiet and still. Gu Qingze stood by the coffee machine for a moment before remembering something: A-Xing, the one with blue hair and purple eyes, seemed to have already left.
When Gu Qingze was in his own private space, he disliked having people around. Therefore, the housekeepers and chefs he hired only performed their designated tasks at prescribed times before leaving.
The living room held an eerie stillness. For some reason, Gu Qingze suddenly felt a hollow emptiness in his heart. Unable to define this strange sensation, he abandoned the idea of making coffee, poured a cup of warm water instead, and headed to the bedroom.
Leaning back against the headboard, the stern and formidable CEO very skillfully opened his reading app. His bookshelf was lined with numerous novels whose very titles screamed melodrama.
(The Day He Dug Out My Heart, I Reborn on the Night of Our Wedding)
(Shocking! The Roommate Who Crawled Into My Bed Claims He Is Straight)
(Slashing My True Love Upon Reaching Success, The Unfeeling Daoist Master Regrets It!)
Gu Qingze looked at these titles, clicked his tongue lightly, and was about to randomly select one to read when he suddenly spotted an unfamiliar title.
(After Transmigrating into a Male Insect, I Feel Like My Life Has Reached Its Peak)
Gu Qingze’s brows furrowed slightly. Why did he not remember adding this book to his bookshelf?
After hesitating for a moment, Gu Qingze clicked into it anyway.
Time slowly ticked by. Gu Qingze went from reading leisurely at the start to tapping the screen at an increasingly rapid pace.
By the time that character’s scenes completely vanished from the story, Gu Qingze finally stopped his hand, raised his head, and stared blankly at the ceiling with a numb expression.
He finally understood why that A-Xing had fallen from the sky.
He was, damn it, a small cannon-fodder character from this very book!
Gu Qingze considered himself well-read, having perused countless absurd novels, but this book still dealt a severe blow to his worldview!
The story revolved around a petty hoodlum from the real world who transmigrated into the Insect World. Upon understanding the world’s societal framework, he cleverly began packaging himself, using his normal real-world perspectives to deliberately approach high-status female insects.
Normal values were considered abnormal in that world, yet they possessed an extraordinary allure. Paired with the scoundrel male insect’s not-unappealing appearance, he very easily captivated a number of outstanding female insects.
Among them were princes, major generals, lieutenant generals, and marshals. One had to admit that his protagonist halo was maxed out.
He drifted between them—sleeping directly with those of lower military rank while playing ambiguous games with those of higher rank, dangling the female insects until they willingly fell head over heels for him. In the end, he gathered them all into his embrace as his female partners.
As for that A-Xing, he was a minor major general in this book. Descriptions of him were sparse, and even his name was never mentioned—only his physical appearance and status when the protagonist first set eyes on him.
The brushstrokes describing him were extremely faint. In the end, because he refused to submit to the protagonist, he was predictably framed, sent to the battlefield, and never returned.
There were no further descriptions of him afterward; Gu Qingze had merely pieced it together based on a few scattered fragments.
For instance: his sparkling eyes when eating, his conditioned reflex to kneel and accept punishment whenever startled, the term of address “Lord,” his unfamiliarity with the environment of this world, and… that specific description of his physical appearance.
All of these matched the setting of that world, as well as A-Xing’s appearance.
After sorting everything out, Gu Qingze tossed his phone aside and rubbed his brow. What kind of mess is this?
As a CEO who loved reading melodramatic novels, he had now witnessed melodramatic events happening in real life. Stunned into a mental daze by the reality of it all, Gu Qingze picked up his phone once again and dialed a number.
His tone remained cold and aloof: “During this period, help me monitor his every move.”
As his voice fell, there was a prolonged silence from the other end. Just as Gu Qingze was growing impatient, the caller finally spoke, their voice carrying a trace of difficult-to-conceal trembling: “President Gu, that gentleman did not let us drive him. He did not take a car, and… I—I temporarily do not know where he is right now…”