Volume One, Chapter 95: You Said You Would Marry Me, and Now You're Going Back on Your Word

Yumo instinctively reached for a tissue to help him wipe it off, but the next second, her wrist was firmly clasped by the man. His sharp eyes flickered, and his thin lips parted slightly as he uttered a few words.

“We’re live.”

Yumo’s face flushed instantly, as red as a boiled crab, her skin both hot and burning.

Meanwhile, the livestream exploded with comments.

[Oh my god, I love this scene, don’t stop, keep wiping! I want to see it! Ahhh!]

[Of course Yumo knows she’s live, seeing her actions makes me grin like an auntie~]

[Ah!! The camera cut away, I didn’t get a good look, just let these two get married right now!]

...

Yumo was oblivious to the viewers’ remarks. After Mushao Zhou spoke, the flush on her ears deepened, a rosy hue spreading across her cheeks, burning hot. When she looked up, she met Mushao Zhou’s long, dark gaze.

She paused and handed the tissue to him.

Mushao Zhou wiped the yogurt away, but a large, wet stain still remained.

Yumo stood and whispered to him, “I’ll go upstairs with you to change, I can shield you.”

Mushao Zhou gave a quiet assent, and together they headed to the third floor. He took a clean pair of pants and went into the bathroom. Yumo intended to wait outside, but he pulled her into the room with him.

As soon as she entered, her eyes were drawn to the little yellow duck on his bed. Her eyes grew warm—she hadn't expected Mushao Zhou to take the little duck everywhere with him; it was so unlike his usual style.

She approached the bed, bent down, picked up the duck, and brought it close to her nose.

The scent of herbal sachets lingered faintly. Just one whiff left Yumo feeling clear-headed and refreshed.

Mushao Zhou seemed to be doing something in the bathroom for quite a while, not coming out, so Yumo lounged on the sofa, waiting idly.

Click.

The bathroom door opened. Mushao Zhou emerged, dressed in fresh clothes.

His deep, unreadable eyes landed on Yumo, who was curled up on the sofa, hugging the little yellow duck, having dozed off at some point.

He walked over quietly and sat beside her, listening to the even rhythm of her breathing.

Yumo slept peacefully, but her dark brows were slightly furrowed, as if she were caught in a bad dream.

Mushao Zhou gently reached out with his cool, pale hand and smoothed her brow, hoping to ease the crease.

Her features were strikingly beautiful, radiating a natural brilliance even without makeup. The morning sun streamed through the gauzy curtains, casting a soft glow on her fair cheeks and illuminating the fine down on her face—a scene so lovely it seemed untouchable.

Suddenly, Yumo bit her lip and murmured a few words in her sleep.

Mushao Zhou’s long, flute-like fingers released her lips, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly, his voice softer than usual, gentle enough to melt.

“Yumo, have you forgotten your promise to me? You said you’d marry me. Now you’re trying to wriggle out of it—what am I supposed to do with you?”

Back then, she was six years old. She must have truly forgotten.

The little yellow duck had been her gift to him, and now she didn’t even remember.

All these years, he had kept the duck by his side, never forgetting her promise, always waiting for her answer.

“Yumo, I won’t let go. I know you still care for me—I can feel it…”

Mushao Zhou sighed softly and lowered his gaze, his sharply contoured face moving closer to hers.

Yumo’s long lashes fluttered, and just as his lips were about to brush hers, her eyes opened wide.

Mushao Zhou jerked back, a hint of guilt flickering across his face as he averted his gaze, concealing his emotions.

Yumo sat up and stretched, looking as if she’d slept well. She glanced at Mushao Zhou. “Let’s go.”

With that, she strode out of the room without a backward glance.

Mushao Zhou quickly followed behind her with long strides.

Yumo’s steps echoed on the wooden floor. She tried to steady her pace, but inside, her heart was rippling like a lake struck by a boulder, wave after trembling wave of emotion.

Mushao Zhou’s words replayed in her mind, and for a moment, the entire world faded away, leaving only the lingering warmth of his tender voice.

He said he had forgotten her promise, but in Yumo’s memory, there was nothing of the sort.

When could she have said something like that to him?

Had she really said she would marry him?

As she pondered, Chu Xirui hooked her arm and whispered in her ear, “Momo, tell me, what’s your and Mushao Zhou’s secret mission?”

Yumo didn’t reply, her thoughts still tangled in Mushao Zhou’s words.

At that moment, only Lin Xing and Tang Xinyan had yet to complete their public mission; the director was urging them to finish it.

Their task was simple: take a heart-shaped hand photo together and post it on their social feed.

Lin Xing stood next to Tang Xinyan with an icy expression. Though they were side by side, it felt as if an East African Rift Valley separated them.

A crew member gestured for them to move closer.

Lin Xing shifted a single centimeter, face blank. Tang Xinyan forced a smile, her expression stiff, and also shuffled a centimeter.

The crew member said, “…I’ll count down. Three, two, one. Make a heart gesture with your hands. Three, two, one!”

The camera captured them in a freeze-frame: Lin Xing raised his hand, forming half a heart with thumb and forefinger, while Tang Xinyan opened her hand, fingers curved to complete the shape.

The crew member fell silent.

Seeing this, the director took out a handkerchief to dab the sweat from his brow, then spoke into his megaphone.

“All right, once you’ve posted the photo on your social feed, you’ve completed the task.”

Lin Xing opened his social feed, uploaded the photo, and attached the program’s required caption:

[Darling, I am willing to be the star in your life, lighting the road ahead through every dark night. To walk this journey with you is my greatest fortune.]

For visibility, he set the post to “only me,” then hit publish.

He didn’t check Tang Xinyan’s post, but guessed she did the same.

Fu Yanting and Lin Hua had failed their public task. Lin Hua, however, didn’t lose heart; instead, she comforted him with gentle affection.

She reached out and took his hand, speaking softly. “Yanting, don’t worry about it. You’ve already tried your best.”

Fu Yanting’s face was still dark. He pulled his hand from hers and turned to leave, but Lin Hua caught up and held his hand again.

“Yanting, since we’ve decided to join this show, we should see it through. Otherwise, if we break the contract…”

After all, they’d signed with Zhang Zheng. If they quit now, they’d have to pay a hefty penalty.

And from Zhang Zheng’s attitude, it almost seemed like he wanted them to withdraw of their own accord.

The mention of penalties stopped Fu Yanting in his tracks, and he followed Lin Hua back into the livestream, his expression much improved.

He whispered to Lin Hua, “Don’t think that just because you’re having my child, I’ll be with you. That’s impossible.”

In his heart, he had only ever loved Yumo.

Watching Yumo and Mushao Zhou standing together, he felt a dull ache in his chest, nearly suffocating.

He should be the one standing at Yumo’s side.

Chu Xirui and Su Beican, perhaps out of boredom, started playing rock-paper-scissors—the loser got their cheek pinched.

After a while, they switched to a staring contest, successfully holding eye contact for thirty seconds and completing their secret mission.

Yumo, noticing their interaction, turned to the director, Zhang Zheng.

“Director, may I guess someone else’s secret mission now?”

The director nodded. “You may, but you only get one chance.”

A look of certainty settled on Yumo’s face, her crimson lips parting gently.

“I guess Chu Xirui and Su Beican’s secret mission is—”