The other party’s words exploded in Shang Yichen’s mind like a bomb. He was stunned, his hand shaking uncontrollably as the phone slipped in his grip. A buzzing sound filled his ears. If the call hadn’t been abruptly ended, he would have thought he was dreaming.

He said he was Zhou Yi’s… husband? How could such an unfamiliar word come out of Zhou Yi’s life? They had been apart for just two weeks—barely more than a dozen days—and Zhou Yi already had a husband?

The absurdity of it all made Shang Yichen immediately reject the idea. “Impossible! How could Zhou Yi have a husband? Who are you? Let Zhou Yi answer the phone for me.”

The voice on the other end didn’t flinch. Calm and cold, it responded, “You don’t believe it, do you? I’ll make you believe it.”

Before Shang Yichen could say another word, the call ended.

He stood frozen for a long time, still holding the phone in his trembling hand. Slowly, he put his numb arm down, reopening the call history, checking again to make sure he hadn’t dialed the wrong number.

Over and over, he checked. His heart raced with disbelief. After confirming that he hadn’t made a mistake, he opened the call screen again.

Zhou Yi was a Beta. An ordinary one, no one would want him except for Shang Yichen himself. How could he possibly have a husband?

It made no sense. This had to be a joke, some kind of prank. Shang Yichen’s mind clung to that denial, but he couldn’t shake the unease building inside.

Still shaking, he put the phone back to his ear. His lips trembled, his fingertips numb. A few beeps later, a discouraging, mechanical voice came on: The number you dialed is busy. Please call again later…

Shang Yichen tried calling back multiple times, but it kept showing “on the phone.” He stared at the screen, frustration bubbling up inside. He had to know the truth.

In a final attempt, he opened WeChat and sent a quick message. Instantly, a glaring red exclamation mark popped up.

It hit him—his number had been blocked.

“Fuck,” Shang Yichen cursed under his breath. He was enraged, but didn’t know who to direct his anger toward. In a fit of frustration, he grabbed the ashtray on the bedside table and threw it across the room. It hit the carpet with a dull thud, rolling a few times before stopping.

Shang Yichen’s breath came in sharp gasps. Staring at the ashtray, his anger did little to ease the panic gnawing at him. The thought of Zhou Yi being taken away filled his mind.

Why did this happen? he thought. I was the one Zhou Yi liked. How could someone else suddenly appear and claim to be his husband?

His thoughts spun out of control. Just as he was trying to process everything, his phone vibrated again. His heart sank.

He grabbed the phone, his eyes already anticipating bad news. A message from an unknown number.

A photo appeared—a photo of two hands, intertwined.

Shang Yichen’s heart pounded. He had lived with Zhou Yi for three years, and he recognized his hands. Seeing the photo made him sure—the hand in the picture was Zhou Yi’s.

Until now, Shang Yichen had desperately tried to deny everything the mysterious caller had said, but this photo shattered the last of his delusions. He couldn’t deny it any longer.

His mind screamed at him not to open the full picture, but his fingers betrayed him, zooming in.

The two hands were clasped tightly, placed on a quilt. The lighting was dim, but Shang Yichen’s sharp eyes caught a faint red mark on the wrist of the smaller hand.

He wasn’t naïve. He knew exactly what that mark meant.

His temples throbbed, and his throat tightened painfully. A sour, bitter feeling surged through his chest as he thought of Zhou Yi being touched by someone else. His mind fixated on the mark on his wrist. How many other marks are there that I can’t see?

Shang Yichen wanted to text for clarification, but his hands were shaking so badly that the words came out in a jumbled mess. As he tried to delete and rewrite, his phone vibrated again.

Another message appeared: “Zhou Yi is my Beta. My baby.”

The provocation stung. Shang Yichen’s anger flared as he typed furiously, sending a barrage of messages filled with curses. But no matter how many times he typed, the other party didn’t reply, didn’t react at all. It was as though they were deliberately ignoring him.

A feeling of helplessness washed over him. It was like punching a pillow—he couldn’t get a reaction. He clenched his teeth and stopped, watching as the phone screen faded from bright to dark. His expression remained tense.

Sitting in the silence, feeling the weight of his frustration, Shang Yichen finally reached for the phone again. His fingers fumbled as he opened his contacts and dialed his secretary’s number, trying to focus on something else.

Meanwhile, Liang Xianzhang held a sleeping Zhou Yi in his arms, scrolling through the hateful messages from Shang Yichen. He remained indifferent, simply turning off the phone and tossing it aside.

The frequency of the messages amused him. He was satisfied—if Shang Yichen wanted to ignore them, let him. Liang Xianzhang was more than happy to let him know just how content he and Zhou Yi were together.

He gazed down at Zhou Yi’s peaceful face, nestled in his arms, and inhaled the familiar scent of his neck. His lips brushed against Zhou Yi’s forehead as he whispered softly, “My baby…”