Zihan's lips were about to land on hers when the sharp vibration of a phone cut through the charged silence.
Guo Min startled, her hand pressing against his chest to push him back just enough to break their moment. He exhaled heavily, his jaw tightening as he let her go, then straightened and walked toward the bed with calm. For a few heartbeats, the only sound in the room was the faint buzz of her phone still in her hand.
Then, Guo Min's expression shifted, her aura tightening, her shoulders going rigid. Zihan's dark gaze immediately sharpened. "What happened?" he asked, voice clipped.
She swallowed and crossed to him, holding out the phone, brows furrowed. "…Zihan, look at this."
On the screen, a new message glared back at them, 'Congratulations on your wedding, Guo Min or should I say, young Mrs. Zhu. Enjoy your honeymoon while you can. Afterwards comes the real celebration… when the Zhu bride bathes in blood to cleanse the family's sins.'
The words seemed to drip with venom, each syllable deliberately crafted to wound.
Zhu Zihan's eyes hardened, the warmth vanishing from them. He plucked the phone from her hand with unnerving composure, set it on the bedside table, and reached for her wrist, pulling her gently but firmly onto the bed beside him. "Block the number. Don't dwell on it."
She searched his face, her heart feeling a little restless. "...Zihan. Is something wrong?" Her voice was small, as though she already knew he wasn't telling her everything.
"Nothing." He brushed her cheek with his knuckles, his tone deceptively soft. "Don't worry, it's probably just a prank. People like to test boundaries." He leaned down and kissed her forehead.
"…Hm." She nodded slowly, though her brows stayed knitted. Her mind raced before a thought slipped out. "It might not be, though… You have so many fans. What if one of them is after me because I became your wife?"
Her words drew a sudden chuckle from him, low and amused. "If it's them, you don't need to worry. No one with a crazed obsession can breach Zhu security."
She tilted her head, half skeptical, half curious. "Why not?"
"Why?" he echoed, lips twitching in faint amusement. "Because every one of those men comes directly from the army's first regiment. They're not mere bodyguards. They're trained wolves."
"I see... But still, there aren't many of them. Not more than six. Isn't that too small for someone like you?"
"Quality over quantity." He smiled faintly, flicking her forehead with sudden mischief.
"Ouch!" She winced, rubbing the spot.
"You're asking too many questions," he said, lowering his voice as he shifted, his weight pressing her down into the sheets again. "Let's focus on why we're here." His lips trailed teasingly against her neck, slow, deliberate.
"Ahh...wait, not now…" she protested breathlessly, wriggling beneath him. Then her eyes darted up, desperate for an escape. "…Okay, okay. Let me off this once, and I'll do anything you ask." She paused, meeting his gaze. "Please. I promise."
He stilled, his brow arching as he studied her, clearly intrigued. "…Anything?" His voice dropped lower.
"Yes."
A thoughtful hum escaped him, and then a sudden spark lit his eyes. "When we return home, you'll cook for me."
She blinked, stunned. "…Oh. Okay, I...wait. What?"
"You heard me." His lips curved. "You'll cook for me."
Her face twisted in disbelief. "I don't know how," she lied quickly, shaking her head.
"Liar." His smirk deepened as he brushed a lock of hair from her face. "Ruoxi told me you can cook. Said you don't like it, but you're good at it when you bother to try."
Guo Min froze, then narrowed her eyes. "Since when did you and Ruoxi become buddies?"
"Since she told me little secrets about you." His gaze glittered, enjoying her frustration. "Very useful secrets."
"That girl," she muttered under her breath, cheeks warming.
Lowering his lips to her ear, Zihan's voice was a husky whisper. "I'll be expecting that meal, wife."
Guo Min huffed, rolling her eyes. "I did make you soup before."
"Mm," he drawled, the corner of his lips tugging upward, "soup is an appetizer, not a meal."
"Tch." She pouted, pressing her head stubbornly into the pillow as though dismissing the conversation altogether. Just as her eyelids began to flutter shut, the sharp chime of the doorbell broke the quiet. She groaned, not bothering to move, while Zihan rose without complaint.
When he returned, he carried something in his hand, and the faint scent of vanilla drifted through the room. Instantly, Guo Min sat upright on the bed, her earlier sulk replaced by a wide, delighted smile.
Vanilla ice cream.
"She also told me," Zihan said smoothly, placing the bowl on the bedside table, "that you like vanilla ice cream." His gaze lingered on her as she hopped out of bed like an eager child, snatching the spoon and settling down without hesitation.
"Thank you!" she squealed, already digging in. Within seconds, she was halfway through the bowl, savoring every bite. Then she paused, spoon still in her mouth, and blinked at him. "…Wait. Aren't you having any?"
"Too sweet," he replied simply, his tone matter-of-fact.
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "Typical Zihan. You're so picky about everything." Then, with a mischievous grin, she scooped a spoonful and held it out toward him. "Here. Just one bite."
He frowned, hesitation flickering across his features, but the stubborn tilt of her head dared him to refuse. After a beat, he leaned forward and parted his lips, letting her slip the spoon into his mouth.
"Well?" she asked eagerly, watching him like a hawk.
His expression remained unreadable as he swallowed. Then, at last, a faint smirk tugged at the edge of his lips. "Not terrible."
"Not terrible?, really?." she echoed, mock offense coloring her voice.
"Mn." He leaned back, folding his arms, though his gaze softened as he watched her lick the spoon with obvious delight. "You seem satisfied enough for the both of us."
Guo Min giggled, too busy finishing the ice cream to argue further, while Zihan sat quietly, the faintest curve lingering on his lips as though savoring her happiness more than the sweetness she had tried to feed him.
Their sweet days together in Maldives passed far too quickly, and before they knew it, the morning of their departure arrived. The sound of waves still echoed faintly in Guo Min's ears as she tugged her suitcase across the polished floor of the villa.
"I love this place," she murmured, casting one last wistful glance at the ocean view, "but as always… home it is."
Zihan reached over and effortlessly took the suitcase from her hand, his stride steady as he led them toward the waiting car. With the quiet efficiency that always surrounded him, he'd already arranged everything, the luggage loaded, the route timed, their private tickets booked to China.
The drive was smooth, and the flight itself was quicker than Guo Min expected. For her, it was joyful and sleepy, she drifted in and out of naps, head sometimes resting against Zihan's shoulder. For him, however, it was hours of steady work, fingers flying across his phone or laptop screen, brows furrowed in concentration.
At one point, Guo Min cracked one eye open and caught him typing furiously, eyes set in his usual focused manner. She groaned dramatically and nudged his arm. "You haven't even set foot back in China yet, and you're already boring yourself into the grave."
He didn't glance up, though the corner of his mouth twitched at her words. "Boring is better than recklessness."
She sat up, rubbing her eyes and narrowing them at him. "really?, honestly, you are boredom itself, Zihan."