Chapter 018 Wedding Ceremony 10

Chapter 018 The Wedding Process 10

Zhou Younan stepped inside. The house was warm, a good four or five degrees warmer than the temperature outside.

Unlike its flashy and opulent exterior, the interior decor was simple.

Wooden floors and red walls met his eyes. A deep blue sofa rested in the spacious living room, facing a large fireplace with neatly stacked firewood beside it.

Clean, tidy, minimalist, and rustic.

That was Zhou Younan’s first impression.

He was surprised to see a fireplace in the living room. This method of heating by burning wood seemed downright archaic compared to the flourishing technology of the modern era.

He didn’t like fire. The fireplace made him feel unsettled.

“The first floor has the living room, kitchen, bathroom, and storage room. Make yourself at home,” Wei Qing said as he headed toward the kitchen.

The kitchen was opposite the living room, separated by a hand-operated glass slider. Through the glass, Zhou Younan saw pots, pans, and utensils hanging on the walls, glinting with that cold metallic shine unique to metal.

As he approached the kitchen, a quick glance revealed several machines he had never seen before.

It seemed the kitchen was the most technologically advanced area on this floor.

The tall Wei Qing stood inside, rolling up his shirt sleeves and tying back his hair before efficiently retrieving some greens from the refrigerator.

Was Wei Qing going to cook? A marshal—cooking?

With the advancement of technology, ready-made meals and instant foods had become widely popular. Moreover, since food ingredients were controlled by the Great Families and priced sky-high, ordinary people hardly ever got to cook—let alone knew how.

After the Zhou family introduced nutrient packs, kitchens had completely lost their purpose. Zhou Younan had seen Torikis’ property listings—new apartments no longer included kitchen spaces.

Back on Yaoxing, the Zhou family usually distributed nutrient packs. Only during important ceremonies would they purchase ingredients and hire chefs to prepare meals.

Zhou Younan had tasted a few dishes—some were passable, while others were even worse than the nutrient packs.

He had once been very interested in cooking, believing that transforming raw ingredients into dishes was a fascinating thing. But his fear of fire kept him at a distance, only allowing him to watch from afar.

“Want to come in?” Wei Qing looked up and asked.

Zhou Younan stood at the kitchen door, peering in. “Are you going to cook?”

“Yeah, warming up some congee from yesterday, stir-frying a dish, and slicing some braised meat.”

What was congee? What was braised meat? These were all terms Zhou Younan had never heard before. After a moment’s thought, curiosity led him into the kitchen.

“What’s this?” Zhou Younan pointed at an unfamiliar metal box.

“An oven,” Wei Qing answered.

“Is this also an oven?”

“That’s a dishwasher.”

“And this?”

“An earthenware pot.”

“What’s this used for?”

“A peeler.”

...

Zhou Younan asked about every unfamiliar appliance in the kitchen. Wei Qing patiently answered each question.

“You don’t use fire for cooking?”

“This is an induction stove. It can stir-fry too.”

Zhou Younan stared at the steaming pot in front of Wei Qing, his eyes sparkling.

So cooking could be done without fire. A real smile lit up his face.

Looking up at Wei Qing, he said, “I like induction stoves. I don’t like fire.”

“Good,” Wei Qing replied, planting a quick kiss on Zhou Younan’s lips before pulling away just as swiftly.

The kiss was sudden, taking Zhou Younan completely by surprise.

His smile went rigid.

Wei Qing chuckled. “Your position just now was perfect for a kiss.”

Zhou Younan lowered his head, pursing his lips. He’d let his guard down.

Wei Qing reached out, gently brushing aside the hair falling over Zhou Younan’s forehead.

“Don’t touch my hair!”

Zhou Younan slapped Wei Qing’s hand away and took several steps back.

Alarmed, he covered the hair on his forehead with his hand, his dark eyes wary as he glared at Wei Qing unblinking.

Wei Qing frowned and advanced on him.

Zhou Younan’s stomach dropped.

In his haste, he’d forgotten who he was dealing with. Slapping Wei Qing’s hand away—Wei Qing must be furious now.

As Zhou Younan raced to think of how to handle the situation—

KABOOM! A deafening noise erupted outside.

An echoing “Wei Qing—!” reverberated into the house. Both Zhou Younan and Wei Qing turned toward the window.

The roar of engines grew louder as someone approached rapidly.

Wei Qing snapped the lid on the pot and turned off the induction stove.

Couldn’t let the congee scorch.

“It’s Wang Wu,” Wei Qing explained to Zhou Younan.

The words had barely left his mouth when—CRASH!—the villa’s front door was blasted open, sending wood splinters flying in all directions.

Zhou Younan was hauled against Wei Qing’s chest, protected from the flying fragments.

Then came the crash of breaking glass as the windows shattered to the floor.

"Wei Qing, are you fucking deaf or what?!" A tall woman clad in a metal exoskeleton strode through the shattered door into the house.

She tore off her helmet and hurled it aside.

In a few quick steps, she reached Wei Qing, snatched his collar.

The woman cursed furiously: "I’ve told you eight hundred times not to summon Crimson Flame lately, and you still fucking did it?! Are you a mama’s boy? Need Crimson Flame like a baby needs its bottle?"

Completely ignored, Zhou Younan stared, slack-jawed as he studied Wang Wu, who dared to speak to Wei Qing like this.

With her flaming Mohawk and a cigarette dangling from her lips, her brown eyes blazed with fury: "Nothing to say?"

Wei Qing’s pale green eyes were shadowed by his lashes as he quirked a smile. "Please don’t be so crude. You’ll scare my wife."

Wang Wu jerked back like she’d been shocked, immediately releasing Wei Qing and backing away several steps. Bracing herself, she watched Wei Qing’s grin like a threat.

Smoothing his collar leisurely, Wei Qing drew Zhou Younan against his side.

He introduced to Wang Wu: "This is my wife, Zhou Younan."

Then to Zhou Younan: "Genius mech engineer, Wang Wu—daughter of Old Marshal Wang Han."

Zhou Younan met Wang Wu’s gaze and offered a polite smile.

Wang Wu, however, frowned as she scrutinized him, hesitating. "Zhou Mo’s... younger brother?"

Zhou Younan knew he looked nothing like Zhou Mo, but Wang Wu’s expression was too obvious.

He nodded in acknowledgment.

Wang Wu sniffed the air. "Omega?"

Zhou Younan gave a quiet ‘Mm’ in confirmation.

Her eyes flicked between Zhou Younan and Wei Qing.

Easing up, she smirked and said to Zhou Younan in a mocking lilt, "Hey, Wei Qing once vowed he’d never touch an Omega. Don’t let him fool you."

"Wang Wu! Crimson Flame. Outside. Now." Wei Qing’s smile widened.

"Pfft." Wang Wu pulled a gun from her hip, racking the slide with a snick. "Perfect chance to test this new laser pistol."

Zhou Younan glanced between the eager Wang Wu and the smiling Wei Qing—this looked less like a chat and more like a brawl.

Wei Qing took the lid off the pot and served Zhou Younan a bowl of corn and carrot congee, softly murmuring, "Dig in. Be right back."

"Okay," Zhou Younan agreed.

Once out of Zhou Younan’s sight, Wei Qing’s expression went cold. His gaze locked onto Wang Wu, his pupils thinning to slits, dangerous.

As they stepped outside, Zhou Younan heard Wang Wu say, "You’re on fire today. Let’s see if my gun’s faster than you."

A gun? Was Wei Qing about to eat a bullet?

Zhou Younan pondered—if Wei Qing died right here, then...

Would he be free? Hell, not bad!

Dismissing the thought, he focused on the porridge before him—golden corn, bright orange carrots, plump, glossy grains—irresistible.

The first spoonful flooded his mouth with the gentle sweetness of carrots. Each bite burst with the crisp mix of corn juice and rice fragrance.

It was surprisingly good.

He took two more spoonfuls as gunfire and crashes exploded outside. Peering into the blackened window, he saw nothing.

Wei Qing’s porridge was really good. If only for the porridge, he hoped Wei Qing would be fine.

Zhou Younan returned to his meal.

***

Seeing Wei Qing’s slit pupils, Wang Wu was practically vibrating.

She said, "You’re on fire today. Let’s see if my gun’s faster than you."

Wei Qing snarled. "You talk too much."

Wang Wu immediately raised her gun, aiming at Wei Qing, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Wei Qing, moving like lightning, seized her wrist, wrenching the gun skyward.

A distant tree branch snapped and crashed to the ground.

Wang Wu’s other hand snapped a wrist-blade free, stabbing toward Wei Qing’s arm.

As the Tyrell Empire’s prized genius mech engineer, Wang Wu was a walking armory. Every inch of her carried weapons, a precaution even the Emperor endorsed.

Wei Qing was forced to let go and dodge.

"Wei Qing, try this new particle beam weapon." Wang Wu drew a rifle from her back, braced, and squeezed the trigger.

She’d once explained its mechanics—supercharged particles ripping through targets.

Deadly accurate. Brutally efficient.

Eyeing the muzzle, Wei Qing’s adrenaline burned through him.

He’d been happy thinking Zhou Younan liked him. He’d hijacked the venue Zhou Younan adored, trying to make up for past wrongs.

Wei Qing wouldn’t apologize, so he sought other ways to compensate.

Zhou Younan seemed to love the venue, which pleased Wei Qing—he took it as forgiveness.

But Zhou Younan refused the hexagram at their wedding.

Why? Was his affection genuine?

That white heart on the ground unsettled Wei Qing inexplicably.

After the ceremony, aboard the aircraft, Zhou Younan asked to return to Yaoxing alone.

What made him so desperate to leave? His claims of love only heightened Wei Qing’s suspicion.

Wei Qing wanted to leave a good impression—playing the courteous, gentle gentleman.

But what he truly craved was destruction, blood, killing! He reveled in solving problems with his fists.

Yet he couldn’t treat Zhou Younan that way. Too fragile, too slight.

So how should he handle Zhou Younan?

Wei Qing was at a complete loss.

He felt as if he were holding a fragile eggshell carving.

He wanted to examine the carvings on the eggshell closely, but even the lightest touch might crack it.

So he could only be painstakingly careful, even more so.

Omegas needed gentle nurturing, and Zhou Younan looked so delicate—he needed to be handled like glass.

But Wei Qing was never the careful type!

Wei Qing's pupils narrowed into thin, predatory slits, his canines and nails lengthened slightly, and a pair of animal ears popped up on his head.

He crouched low, hands on the ground, his defensive stance like a cat with its hackles raised.

His pale green eyes locked onto the gun barrel, his pricked ears picked up the whir of the accelerator inside.

Wei Qing's hearing was now extraordinary—he could even distinctly hear Zhou Younan sipping porridge softly inside the room.

My little catnip, what do I have to do to truly win your heart?