NOVPUBXu Wan prided herself on being a decent judge of character, but when it came to Zong Zhao, she had stumbled spectacularly. How had she ever thought this man, who seemed ready to throw punches at the slightest provocation, had a gentle temper?
Fortunately, Zong Zhao’s temper was tempered by reason—otherwise, the little troublemaker in their household would be setting off fireworks every day, overjoyed to have a father so quick to throw hands in defense of others.
His dark eyes met hers as he said solemnly, "From now on, go wherever you want without worrying about others. If anyone dares to trouble you again, I’ll stand behind you."
Xu Wan froze, staring at him in stunned silence.
This might have been the first time someone had made such a serious promise to her. It felt different from the little troublemaker’s boisterous declarations of protection—though she couldn’t quite pinpoint why. Her heart tingled faintly, as if lightly scratched by a claw, leaving an odd itch.
After a long pause, Xu Wan finally smiled and said, "No need. No one will bother me anymore. Everyone has their own lives to live—who has the time to go out of their way to make trouble for others?"
Moonlight spilled into the room, casting soft light over the small couch.
Zong Zhao took in her figure—dressed only in a nightgown, her bare feet planted on the floorboards. She had rushed over in such a hurry that she hadn’t even slipped on shoes.
Late June was the height of summer’s swelter, but the room was cooled with ice, and the floor’s chill could easily seep into the body. His expression darkened, and in one swift motion, he scooped her up and carried her back to the bed.
"You—what’s wrong?" Xu Wan gasped as he lifted her. Their bodies pressed close, and the unfamiliar yet pleasant scent of his masculinity enveloped her.
A heavy thudding echoed—was it his heartbeat or hers?
"You weren’t wearing shoes. The floor is too cold," he explained. 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝒑𝙪𝒃.𝒄𝒐𝙢
"Oh… right. Thank you," Xu Wan stammered.
Zong Zhao set her down on the bed, pulled the thin blanket over her, and then sat beside her. "I’ll stay here and keep you company until you’re ready to sleep."
Xu Wan thought to herself: You, a man of few words and a fiery temper, aren’t exactly cut out for idle chatter, are you?
The corner of her lips twitched upward. Well… tonight had revealed two of Zong Zhao’s flaws. It was a relief—before this, he had seemed almost unnervingly perfect.
Noticing her smile, Zong Zhao asked, "What are you laughing at?"
Xu Wan teased him, "You. You’re funny."
Zong Zhao: "…"
That was not an adjective often associated with him.
Curious, Xu Wan studied the man beside her bed. "Zong Zhao, you were missing for ten years, but only two of those were spent fighting at the border. Where were you the other eight? Still in the frontier?"
Zong Zhao had never spoken of this before. His parents didn’t seem to have asked either—perhaps they had discussed it privately. Either way, he carried an air of mystery, the kind of man who silently accomplished great things.
"No, not all of it," he replied. "Back then, Zong Yan and I were caught in the same incident. I was injured and unconscious for seven years. I only woke up three years ago. After that, I spent my time searching for an antidote for His Highness."
Xu Wan blinked. "Wait, you knew His Highness was poisoned that early? Did you contact him?"
"No," Zong Zhao shook his head. "He didn’t know I was alive. But after Luo Jingfeng nearly strangled Jin Cheng, he guessed the truth. That’s why he secretly mentored Jin Cheng—to make our path forward smoother."
Xu Wan frowned. "I don’t understand. How did Jin Cheng’s near-death lead him to suspect you were alive? What’s the connection?"
Zong Zhao answered, "Yan Suxue. I wrote to Mother and told her to bring her back."
Xu Wan’s eyes widened. "!!"
Now that was a bombshell.
Suddenly, everything clicked. "No wonder Mother only went looking for her three years ago! I always wondered why it took so long to learn of her existence. So it was you—you were the one who told her!"
Zong Zhao nodded. "Before Zong Yan died… he told me he kept dreaming of a young woman. At first, he thought it was just his imagination, but the dreams became more frequent, more vivid. He asked me to find her for him."
Xu Wan’s voice trembled. "And you did. And now there’s Wenxiu."
"Zong Yan would have been happy," Zong Zhao said quietly.
A heavy silence settled between them. Not wanting him to dwell on sorrow, Xu Wan changed the subject. "So His Highness deduced you might have returned based on this, even though you hadn’t revealed yourself yet."
Zong Zhao remained silent.
The truth was, His Highness had another reason to believe he was alive—Xu Wan’s marriage into the Marquis Manor to teach Jin Cheng. But if he mentioned that, she would surely ask why he had wanted to marry her.
Because… because…
He wasn’t ready to say it yet.
Luckily, Xu Wan didn’t notice his internal struggle. Instead, she misinterpreted his silence. "Then when Father-in-law said he dreamed of you asking for a wife, that wasn’t your letter, right? You weren’t even back—why would you need a wife? They must have just wanted to arrange a match for you in advance, so you’d have a ready-made spouse when you returned."
Zong Zhao stayed quiet.
He was already dreading how he would explain the truth to her later.
Xu Wan pressed on, "Do you resent them for meddling? After all, your wife wasn’t someone you chose yourself."
While arranged marriages were the norm in their society, some progressive families at least allowed the couple to meet briefly before the wedding. But her first encounter with Zong Zhao had been as a long-married couple.
That first meeting… Had he been satisfied with her? Could it really have been love at first sight?
After a long pause, Zong Zhao met her gaze and said earnestly, "I think you’re the best. No one compares."
Xu Wan’s face burned. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she could practically feel steam rising from her skin.
Good heavens, how is that not a confession? Does he really think he’s being subtle?
Suspecting it was one thing; hearing him say it outright was another. Flustered, she turned her face toward the wall, tucking herself in like a quail.
Sensing his gaze still on her, she yanked the blanket over her head and blurted, "It’s late. I’m going to sleep. You—you should rest too."
Zong Zhao stood. "Call if you need anything. Don’t get up."
"G-got it. Go to bed already," she urged, her back still turned.
Once he left, returning to his couch, Xu Wan emerged from the covers and wiped her forehead. Summer is unbearably hot, she grumbled to herself.
Then she pressed a hand to her chest and scolded her traitorous heart: What are you pounding for? It’s just a confession—it’s not like you’ve never heard one before…
But then she remembered—the last person who had confessed to her was Chen Yunyu. The thought doused her like a bucket of cold water. Ugh, enough.
If anyone could kill the mood, it was her. Xu Wan quickly steadied her breathing and rolled over to sleep.
…Except she couldn’t.
She tossed and turned, unable to quiet her mind. Every time she closed her eyes, Zong Zhao’s face and words flooded her thoughts. Opening them again only prolonged the torment. No matter how she shifted, sleep remained elusive.
The man on the soft couch remained still, giving no indication whether he was asleep or not.
Xu Wan felt like scratching her head in frustration—why was she the one tossing and turning all night when the person who’d spoken up showed no reaction at all?
But it was so strange. She had always treated Zong Zhao as just a roommate, but since when did roommates confess their feelings? And after such a confession, how could he act so casually, sharing the same room as if nothing had happened? The whole situation left her feeling utterly unsettled.
