Chapter 41

The little couple’s day he’d planned was gone again.
After Duan Baisui left, Zuo Nian started dressing at a snail’s pace. Saying he “didn’t mind” was impossible. He trusted Duan Baisui completely, but having his own husband shipped into CPs again and again, with all those sugary edits and half‑true “news” mixed together, made his chest feel tight.
Back then, the reason Duan Baisui hadn’t let him appear in the media hadn’t been his own choice alone—it had been a decision made by both families to protect him.
His little shop had people coming and going every day. Duan Baisui worked in showbiz and had plenty of fans who adored him. Their parents hadn’t wanted him to get harassed by fans or reporters because of his husband’s job—especially A‑son and Zuo Jun, who had always hoped he could do what he liked, live quietly and happily. So at the time they’d only announced that Duan Baisui was married, without putting him in the public eye at all.
Before, he’d thought that was a good thing. He was a little socially anxious and terrified of sudden situations.
But now, he didn’t want that anymore.
He wanted to tell everyone that he was the one who loved Duan Baisui—that they had each other, and only each other; that Duan Baisui belonged to him alone.
Listless, he dragged himself to the shop. There weren’t many customers in the morning. He lay on the counter, endlessly searching for information about Ju Xiao.
The man’s road hadn’t been easy. Back during the competition, he’d stood on the verge of elimination several times. In the end he’d clawed his way forward on sheer skill. In the twelve‑to‑eight round, once he’d been sent to the “pending” seats, he was almost certain to have to face the popularity king, Rong Jin. His chances would have been vanishingly slim. But at that exact moment, Duan Baisui had used his one‑vote pass on him, sending him safely through.
Some fans, however, said that in Ju Xiao’s first PK, he’d actually gone up against a sweet little Omega. The judging panel hadn’t exactly been fair. By all accounts, Ju Xiao had performed better and drawn louder cheers, but the judges had instinctively leaned toward the Omega and, in an upset, sent Ju Xiao to the pending area. Duan Baisui had only corrected the imbalance in the name of fairness. He hadn’t abused his privilege.
After the show ended, it was no surprise that Ju Xiao signed with Xingyu. Compared to the other three Alphas, his resources were weaker. But he’d never slacked off because of fewer jobs. On the contrary, he’d pushed himself even harder. Whether on stage or in dramas, he’d made people sit up and take notice again and again. His progress was obvious.
It was hard to imagine that while all that was happening, he’d still been enduring bullying from three teammates.
From background nobody to blazing new star, he’d paid far more than most. His ambition had been watered with sweat and tears. Now, he was finally reaping what he deserved.
It was hard not to admire someone like that. Even Zuo Nian, after reading through a long “getting to know Ju Xiao” post, couldn’t help but respect him.
After exiting the Ju‑stan’s Weibo page, he saw that the hard‑won, cooling hot search had been shoved back to the top.
This time, it was paparazzi photos: Duan Baisui and Ju Xiao meeting privately after the awards ceremony, chatting happily.
The gossip account claimed that the two had gotten into cars and left one after the other, heading in the same direction—most likely to the same hotel.
Looking down at his phone, Zuo Nian had to admit that on the night of the ceremony, Duan Baisui really hadn’t replied to his messages again. He’d only texted the next morning to say he was up.
He pursed his lips, fingers unconsciously picking at his phone case.
Then, like picking at a scab, he started scrolling through the comments.
CP fans were screaming about how “sweet” it was. Ju Xiao’s fans were screaming at the CP fans. Meanwhile, Duan Baisui’s fans were complaining that every time Ju Xiao had a new drama out, he somehow managed to get himself on a joint hot search with the boss.
“Is he doing this on purpose for hype? President Duan helped him once, and now he’s like a leech that won’t let go?” they fumed.
The three fandoms brawled. Bystanders watched the show—and still found time to kick at Duan Baisui twice.
> [CottonSocks]: So is this little President Duan cheating now or what?
> [BreakTheSiege]: There’s smoke where there’s fire. The prince’s gossip’s been a bit much lately. Didn’t we just see his name tied to Freedom Island?
> [BlueSkyWhiteCloud]: His teammate said he got “special treatment,” didn’t they. You know what that means.
> [GrowBigAndStrong]: Betas are great. You can play however you want without pheromone traces or permanent marks. Smart of him, really.
> [BabyBear]: And what about his wife? Why isn’t he out here tearing them apart? Drag that scum A and cheap B already!
Chewing on his fingertip, Zuo Nian felt anxiety and unease crest like a wave inside him. He didn’t want Duan Baisui cursed out online, but he also desperately wanted to know what had really happened that night.
He scrolled all the way into their CP super‑topic at last.
There, he found a recent interview clip of Ju Xiao.
“What’s your ideal type?” the host asked.
Smiling, Ju Xiao answered, “Someone responsible. With the right values. Someone I can talk to. Someone who’ll stand by me unconditionally.”
“Do you see yourself as a strong person?” the host asked.
“Not really,” he said. “There’s a cowardly side to me, too.”
“So do you want a partner who’s strong?” the host pressed. “Someone who can lead you, give you direction?”
“Actually, I’d prefer someone gentle,” Ju Xiao said. “I’ll keep growing. I’d rather we figure things out together.”
The CP fans went wild analyzing every word.
He’s basically reading straight off that person’s stat sheet!!! they typed.
An ideal type who “stands by him unconditionally”—hadn’t Taizi‑ye done exactly that during the bullying scandal?
And “rather someone gentle”—that had to be a little love note across the airwaves, right? Asking Taizi‑ye to be softer with him?
Zuo Nian: …
Fans had even dug up their earliest travel schedules.
While Ju Xiao was filming in G City, Taizi‑ye had happened to be in K City—an hour’s drive away.
There was a whole list of “proof” like that.
By the time he backed out of their super‑topic, Zuo Nian had finally made up his mind.
He couldn’t just sit here and take it.
He had to do something.
Back at the company, after another meeting, Duan Baisui headed straight for PR.
The clarification statement was already out. On Ju Xiao’s side, they were still drafting his response. It would only be posted after PR had vetted every word.
He had to choose each line carefully. One slip, and netizens would twist it into something else.
As for the “Sui‑Xiao” super‑topic, Duan Baisui couldn’t even be bothered to look. “Nuke it,” he said flatly. “All of it. I want it gone.”
What he feared most was Zuo Nian seeing this garbage.
His little fool was so pure—and so easy to sway. What if these half‑truths and edits muddled his head?
He could ignore strangers’ opinions.
He just didn’t want his Omega to be hurt.
The way Zuo Nian had looked at him that morning had almost broken his heart.
His recent gossip trail was ridiculous. For the past two months, the company had issued one statement after another on his behalf. His own “topic value” was higher than half the artists on their roster.
Rubbing at his brow, he sat back just as Luo Yin knocked and slipped inside. “Um, President Duan… Mr. Zuo called me,” he said carefully.
Duan Baisui looked up. “To talk to me?”
“No…” Luo Yin hesitated. Under that steady gaze, he finally continued, “He asked me to help him set up a meeting with Mr. Ju.”
“Ju Xiao?” Duan Baisui blinked.
“Yes.”
“Is Ju Xiao in A City?” he asked after a pause.
“I already checked with his agent,” Luo Yin said. “He has a brand event at Mingli Mall today. He’s in town.”
“Ask if he has time,” Duan Baisui said. “Help my wife set up a meeting.”
“Ah?” Luo Yin blurted, then hurriedly corrected himself. “Yes, sir.”
If Zuo Nian needed to hear the truth from Ju Xiao himself, he wasn’t going to stand in the way.
If it would put his heart at ease, then so be it.
Just before Luo Yin reached the door, Duan Baisui thought of something. “Luo Assistant,” he called.
“Yes, sir?” Luo Yin stopped.
“Do you know how to create a super‑topic?” Duan Baisui asked.
“…What?” For a second, Luo Yin thought he’d misheard.
“A couple super‑topic,” Duan Baisui said. “Make one.”
“…All right. And the name?” Luo Yin asked weakly.
“‘Nian‑Shen‑Sui‑Jiu’ (Year‑Deep, Sui‑Long),” he said with a faint smile. “Let it last forever.”
Luo Yin: …
The private booth in the café was quiet and secluded. Aside from the soft background music, there was hardly any sound.
The closer it got to their meeting time, the more nervous Zuo Nian became. Sweat dampened his palms; his heart thudded against his ribs.
He ran through his lines over and over in his head, terrified he’d lose his nerve the moment they met.
The hot chocolate in front of him had already gone cold when the door finally opened.
A tightly wrapped figure stepped inside—black coat, baseball cap, mask, and oversized sunglasses.
A girl trailed in behind him. “Brother Xiao, we have to be quick. The event’s in half an hour,” she reminded him.
“Got it,” he said.
When the door closed again, the man peeled off his disguise, revealing familiar features.
It was Ju Xiao.
Smiling lightly, he held out his hand. “Sorry, I got stuck in traffic. I kept you waiting,” he said.
Zuo Nian jumped to his feet, wiped his hand on his pants, and shook it. “I’m the one taking up your time,” he said.
“Not at all. Please don’t say that,” Ju Xiao replied, sitting down with easy manners. “Mr. Zuo, you wanted to see me because of the hot search, right?”
Straightening his back, Zuo Nian said, “Yes. I’m Duan Baisui’s Omega. We’ve been married for almost a year.”
“I know,” Ju Xiao said. “We met at the annual party. I’m really sorry for all the trouble. But there’s really nothing between me and President Duan.”
Zuo Nian set a golden piggy‑bank on the table and, face soft but expression deadly serious, said, “Mr. Ju, this kind of rumor isn’t the first. It seriously damages my husband’s reputation. It hurts my heart. And it’s not good for your career either. I believe there’s nothing between you now. But your names keep getting tied together. I really… can’t accept that.”
“There’s six hundred and forty‑five yuan and fifty cents in the piggy‑bank,” he went on, pulling out two bank cards with trembling hands. “This one has two million. This one has seventy‑eight thousand. Together with the piggy, that’s two million, seventy‑eight thousand, six hundred and forty‑five yuan and fifty cents. All for you. Please stay away from my husband.”
“I know the going rate is five million. I’ll pay the rest in installments,” he added in a rush.
Afraid his courage would melt away, he forced all the words out in one breath.
Across from him, Ju Xiao stared, dumbfounded—at him, at the pig, at the cards. “I think… there’s been a misunderstanding,” he managed.
Zuo Nian shot to his feet and bowed so fast his forehead almost hit the table. “Then I’ll leave it to you,” he said solemnly. “I hope this is the last time I see your names tied together.”
“Mr. Zuo—” Ju Xiao tried.
But Zuo Nian had already opened the door and marched out, head high.
He’d finally done something brave.
He’d defended his marriage.
If Ju Xiao had taken his money, he couldn’t very well refuse his request… right?
That night, Zuo Nian sat in the living room hunched over a calculator.
His monthly income was unstable. Some months he made over ten thousand; in the best month, he’d cleared thirty. If he paid Ju Xiao twenty thousand a month—wait. Would he charge interest?
Chewing on the end of his pen, he fretted. If he did charge interest… then how much would be fair?
The villa door opened with a click. Duan Baisui stepped into the living room in a sharply cut suit, a gleaming golden pig’s head tucked under his arm—a ridiculous contrast to his usual image.
“Gege!” Zuo Nian cried happily, not noticing the thing in his hands at all.
Sitting down on the sofa, Duan Baisui patted his thigh. Obediently, Zuo Nian scooted over.
“You’re home early,” he chirped.
Wrapping an arm around his waist, Duan Baisui lifted the piggy‑bank and dangled it. “Look familiar?” he asked.
He didn’t even have to look closely to recognize it. After the initial shock came panic. “H‑how did he give that to you?” he blurted.
“Why did you give him money?” Duan Baisui asked instead.
He didn’t raise his voice. But something in Zuo Nian’s gut told him he might be in trouble.
Head drooping like a child who’d been caught red‑handed, he said, “I… I wanted him to stay away from you.”