Pei Zhaohe had just finished a stretch of work and originally planned to rest and relax at one of his private vacation villas—sharpening the axe wouldn’t delay the chopping of firewood, after all. However, while driving there, his heart suddenly began pounding violently. Just as Pei Zhaohe thought something might be wrong with his health, for some inexplicable reason, he found himself steering the car to this place instead.
As Pei Zhaohe pondered whether he had been cursed or set up, the distant sound of a car crash suddenly reached his ears. His hand instinctively pressed against his chest as an overwhelming sense of grief and tension surged within him—as if something precious was about to slip away from him forever.
Listening to the distant commotion of the accident, Pei Zhaohe sighed. “Fine, saving a life is worth more than building a seven-story pagoda.” With that, he turned his car toward the source of the crash.
If his subordinates or rivals were to learn of Pei Zhaohe’s thoughts at that moment, they would undoubtedly be shocked, their faces frozen in classic expressions of disbelief.
After all, Pei Zhaohe was known for his cunning, ruthlessness, and mercilessness—the list of derogatory terms could go on indefinitely. While much of it was exaggerated by jealous competitors or peers overshadowed by his brilliance, one thing was undeniably true: Pei Zhaohe was not an easy man to approach.
Having lost his parents to a power struggle orchestrated by his so-called “siblings,” then reclaiming everything that was rightfully his and severing every greedy hand that reached for it, Pei Zhaohe had grown cold and detached. His sudden act of initiative now was enough to make anyone’s jaw drop.
But that was beside the point.
Following the sound, Pei Zhaohe arrived at the scene just in time to hear another car speeding away. It didn’t take long for him to realize he had stumbled upon a hit-and-run. The sight of the victim lying in a pool of blood inside the wrecked car sent a sharp pang through his heart, as if it had been violently wrenched.
Yet, Pei Zhaohe had no time to dwell on such feelings. His entire focus was consumed by the figure in the blood. Without hesitation, he rushed forward, pulled the person from the wreckage, called the police, and summoned an ambulance.
He then followed the ambulance all the way to the hospital.
Upon learning that the victim, though severely injured, would survive, Pei Zhaohe finally exhaled in relief. After arranging a private room for the patient, he turned his attention to tracking down the hit-and-run driver.
The hospital was one of his private facilities, renowned for its confidentiality and security. Though modest in size, it was fully equipped with top-tier medical resources and staff—otherwise, Pei Zhaohe wouldn’t have invested so heavily in maintaining it.
As for the hit-and-run culprit… Pei Zhaohe’s eyes turned icy. The mere thought that the little darling inside might have silently vanished from the world had he not passed by made his heart ache fiercely. Guided by the principle that “if I suffer, no one else gets to be happy,” Pei Zhaohe sharpened his metaphorical blade, ready to hunt down the scum responsible.
Meanwhile, his subordinates needed time to investigate the little cutie’s background. Beneath his aloof exterior, Pei Zhaohe was already scheming—once he had the details of the victim’s identity and family, he’d prepare gifts, meet the parents, and claim the little darling as his own.
Truly, this was the man who had built a business empire at a young age—his decisiveness and strategic prowess were unmatched.
Of course, Yi Lingfan, still unconscious, remained blissfully unaware of all this. Even if he knew… he’d probably just happily wash himself up and deliver himself straight to Pei Zhaohe’s bed.
Yi Lingfan: *Hmph, we’ve been husbands for lifetimes—why be shy over trivial details? Life’s short, might as well enjoy it! After finally reuniting, why waste time?*
Meanwhile, upon learning that Yi Lingfan had survived and was receiving treatment, Su Baiye smashed a glass in fury, his face twisting into a grotesque mask devoid of its usual sweetness.
Su Baiye gnashed his teeth. “Yi Lingfan, you’re really hard to kill. But I won’t let you off! Why can’t you just rot in the gutter? Once you’re gone, I’ll forever be the Su family’s second young master!”
Surveying his opulent room, Su Baiye clenched his fists. “All of this is mine. No one will take it from me—no one!”
His eyes gleamed with malice. “If once isn’t enough, I’ll try again. Twice, thrice—however many times it takes. Yi Lingfan *must* die!”
Mid-rage, his phone rang. Recognizing his fiancé’s number, Su Baiye stiffened, then smoothed his expression into its usual gentle sweetness. “Hello? Is this my dear Shengjun?”
Tan Shengjun’s deliberately lowered voice teased his nerves. “Yes. And is my little Baiye still the one who loves me most?”
Su Baiye smiled sweetly, all traces of venom gone. “Of course~ Little Baiye will always love Shengjun the most~ And does Shengjun love me most too?”
Tan Shengjun replied dotingly, “Naturally. Shengjun’s heart belongs only to little Baiye.” The two continued their saccharine exchange.
Eventually, Tan Shengjun invited Su Baiye to his grandfather’s upcoming 80th birthday celebration—a chance to flaunt his status to the Tan family’s upper echelons and illegitimate siblings.
Su Baiye saw right through it. All this talk of “love” was just Tan Shengjun’s way of boosting his own standing. Not that Su Baiye minded—he, too, cared only for himself.
After hanging up, Su Baiye smirked. “Yi Lingfan, even if you’re alive now, so what? I’m the esteemed Su family’s second young master, the future matriarch of the Tan family. And you? You’ll always be a worthless insect!”
The memory of a certain paternity report deepened the venom in his eyes, fueling his murderous resolve.
Meanwhile, having learned that Yi Lingfan’s “accident” was deliberate, Pei Zhaohe burned with fury. But after a few deep breaths outside Yi Lingfan’s room, he suppressed his rage.
Pei Zhaohe: “My little darling is an innocent victim. How can I let my anger at the culprit affect him? He knows nothing of this yet—I can’t expose it and hurt him.”
Steeling himself, Pei Zhaohe pushed the door open—and froze.
Bathed in sunlight, Yi Lingfan sat against the headboard, quietly reading. The serene, gentle image imprinted itself onto Pei Zhaohe’s heart, unforgettable for a lifetime.
After a brief pause, Pei Zhaohe regained his usual composure. Clearing his throat, he took a seat by the bed. “Fan—*ahem*—Mr. Yi, hello. I’m Pei Zhaohe. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He barely stopped himself from calling him “Fanfan,” not wanting to scare the little cutie.
But Yi Lingfan, who had been his lover across lifetimes, saw right through him. Suppressing a laugh, he maintained an aloof demeanor. “Mr. Pei, I’m Yi Lingfan. The pleasure is mine—and thank you for saving me.”
Their gazes locked, sparks flying, the air thick with invisible pink bubbles.
Both believed they were flawlessly playing their roles in this “first meeting,” oblivious to the overwhelming romantic tension saturating the room. Any third person stepping in would’ve been instantly blinded—or suffocated—by the sheer intensity.
Yet the two remained blissfully unaware, convinced their “strangers” act was impeccable.
From there, the two—each secretly scheming over the other—began conversing, starting with the accident before meandering through literature and poetry, gradually revealing their backgrounds.
Soon, Yi Lingfan learned everything about Pei Zhaohe’s family history, birthday, age, hobbies, assets—and, notably, his “utter lack of romantic experience” and “lifelong single status.”
Likewise, Yi Lingfan shared his own details with Pei Zhaohe.
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