Chapter 22
Meng Xueyuan’s heart blossomed with joy, like a dignified yet gorgeous alpine snow lotus rooted among broken stones, enduring cold nights and dawns.
At last, a warrior had trekked a long distance to reach it, fingers lifting dew-touched petals. The warrior lowered his head, revealing brows and eyes deeper and more handsome than the light over the Tibetan plateau.
The snow lotus was dazzled. Under the peony’s gaze, it nodded ever so slightly.
A breeze swept past. In a blur, Lu Xiao moved with the speed of a beast. Meng Xueyuan, like prey, was seized, warmth brushing the corner of his lips in a pecking kiss.
He vaguely knew the steps, yet still sank first into kissing Lu Xiao.
How strange—under the camera, the two of them were completely at ease, but in this small room that belonged only to them, kissing became awkward and halting.
Meng Xueyuan pushed Lu Xiao away a little and asked, “Has your kissing technique gotten rusty?”
Lu Xiao lifted his upper body slightly, bracing his hands on either side of Meng Xueyuan’s shoulders, his voice hoarse. “Sorry.”
He was too excited. Facing a fully open Meng Xueyuan, Lu Xiao was like a muddle-headed investor just entering the market—wanting this and that, yet bound by fear of losing everything. He only dared to start with his old trade—kissing, something he had prior success with.
A distracted puppy—even his old trade got botched.
Lu Xiao suspected he was drunk—no, drunk on honey. Blood surging, he acted first and thought later, reaching out to undo the buttons of Meng Xueyuan’s sleepwear.
The sleepwear, thin in the transition between spring and summer, gave way as a button rolled under the bed.
When scraping his back earlier, he’d only seen the back view. Now the snowy peaks at the front slowly opened up for exploration as well.
You could do that kind of thing without taking off the top. Lu Xiao tossed it far away, then asked slyly, “Can I take off the pants?”
The gentlemanly question salvaged a shred of his rogue nature.
Of course the pants had to come off!
Meng Xueyuan felt Lu Xiao was doing it on purpose. Unable to bear being stared at, he turned his back, pretending to look for someone to scrape his back.
…
To die beneath peonies—even as a ghost, one would be romantic.
His wife was really good at this.
Lu Xiao nearly went crazy with pleasure. How could it be… his wife really was too cooperative. His adrenaline shot through the roof.
There had never been a more perfect moment in Lu Xiao’s life. Like a polar bear lying on ice, he wrapped Meng Xueyuan tightly in his arms, pressing a hand to his lower abdomen and kissing his ear. “I’ll carry you to the bathroom.”
Having exhausted all his strength, Meng Xueyuan forced his eyelids open. The red moles beside his nose bridge glowed like gemstones.
Every time Lu Xiao kissed one of those red moles, Meng Xueyuan’s body trembled violently—unfailingly effective.
Before Meng Xueyuan could bristle, Lu Xiao said, “Let’s go to the bathroom.”
Meng Xueyuan looked at him as if seeing straight through him and said slowly, “No. I’ll go by myself.”
Lu Xiao froze. Had his idea of using cleanup time in the bathroom for another round been exposed? Wasn’t it usually buy-one-get-one-free?
No more than three times—he’d lacked restraint. It was only right for his wife to be angry.
Switching to a solemn, oath-swearing tone, Lu Xiao said, “I’ll help you clean up. I won’t do anything extra. Okay? You’re so tired—this is what I should do.”
“No.” Meng Xueyuan refused firmly. Cleaning up was something extra. He struggled to get up, fished a shirt off the floor and draped it over himself, rejected Lu Xiao’s support, and staggered toward the bathroom.
Lu Xiao followed behind, looking at the white shirt loosely hanging from Meng Xueyuan’s shoulders… it was his. He rarely wore shirts—he’d only put one on today to film a CEO role.
For the first time, he thought shirts weren’t bad. Wearing them often meant seeing them often.
His gaze slid down to the pair of long, straight, snow-white legs beneath the shirt, and… hmm, it seemed like nothing had leaked out?
Lu Xiao looked at the floor. Indeed—nothing.
Meng Xueyuan was really very tight… tense.
Seeing that forcing his way in would likely make Meng Xueyuan explode, Lu Xiao stayed quietly outside the door.
…
Inside the bathroom, Meng Xueyuan shut the door, his cheeks red as tomatoes. Embarrassed, he pulled the shirt closer, only then realizing it was Lu Xiao’s. They were about the same height, and since Lu Xiao rarely wore shirts—even to award ceremonies, where he’d just throw a suit jacket on—Meng Xueyuan had subconsciously taken it for his own.
In a daze, he remembered when they’d just debuted, drying their clothes on the balcony. Once, he and Lu Xiao had worn each other’s inner layers by mistake and been teased mercilessly by fans.
How could fans have eyes so sharp? They could tell from just a sliver of collar that he was wearing one Lu Xiao had worn.
Meng Xueyuan turned on the shower and rinsed off briefly.
As for later… absolutely no cleaning.
Lu Xiao wouldn’t notice. A queen bee is flawless on the surface—as long as no fingers go inside.
Meng Xueyuan raised his arm to take a bathrobe from the wall, only to feel a sharp ache. He put it on, sat on the toilet to kill time, and pondered how long a normal person should shower afterward.
A long time, probably. So much pollen.
Covering his steaming cheeks, Meng Xueyuan thought that several times he’d nearly fainted beneath that peony—unable even to lift a finger.
In the animal world, when a queen bee goes on her nuptial flight, she flies very fast, ensuring that only the strongest drones can catch up.
Lu Xiao’s stamina was incredible.
If a queen bee feels the stored sperm isn’t enough, she’ll release pheromones again and seek a second drone to mate with.
Lu Xiao had so much pollen.
When genetic exchange is complete, the drone’s reproductive organ is forcibly torn out and left inside the queen; the drone then dies after fulfilling his role.
Human queen bees aren’t that brutal. It’s just that during Lu Xiao’s release and withdrawal, the body will involuntarily contract to hold him back…
Meng Xueyuan could feel it—at that moment, even Lu Xiao’s breathing was different, and the hand gripping his waist pressed so hard it felt like he’d be kneaded into snow.
Meng Xueyuan rolled his clear black-and-white eyes anxiously. Had the contractions been too intense? Had Lu Xiao been in pain?
“Baby, are you okay?” Lu Xiao asked from outside the door.
Was time up?
Meng Xueyuan stood up. Having sat too long on the toilet, the instant he took a step, his thigh muscles felt crushed with pain. He moved slowly to the door, opened it, and said seriously, “Don’t call me ‘baby.’”
A virgin queen bee could still be called baby—but he wasn’t one anymore.
He was a true queen now o(???)o.
Lu Xiao wanted even more to call him “wife,” but restrained himself. Stepping forward, he scooped Meng Xueyuan up bridal-style and gently laid him on the bed.
“Does anything feel uncomfortable?” Lu Xiao’s hands twitched, wanting to lift the bathrobe and check again for injuries.
He was probably the first scumbag top in the world to make his wife clean up on his own.
He’d just humbly consulted Ouyang Lai—if it wasn’t cleaned properly, it’d be uncomfortable the next day.
Meng Xueyuan had been left completely drained by him. How could he possibly clean properly?
“No. I’m just sleepy.” Meng Xueyuan pressed himself flat against the bed so Lu Xiao couldn’t look, yawned, and emphasized, “Mutual assistance is over. You can go back to your own room. I’m tired—there’s filming tomorrow.”
Tomorrow was Lu Xiao’s big scene.
Lu Xiao: “I—”
Meng Xueyuan: “Close the door on your way out.”
Lu Xiao: “…” Such a cold wife. Fine—it was already eleven. He’d let Meng Xueyuan sleep peacefully for now and come back later in the night to check if he had a fever.
After Lu Xiao left with frequent backward glances, Meng Xueyuan got up and locked the door.
The pollen he’d finally gotten wouldn’t be flying away anymore.
From the bedside table, Meng Xueyuan found a bottle of real pollen his mother had given him. He scooped out a spoonful, dissolved it in the warm water Lu Xiao had poured for him, shook it, and drank it all in one go.
Tonight, he was sure to sleep very well.
…
Lu Xiao looked utterly aggrieved. Why was Meng Xueyuan guarding against him like a thief? Had he regretted it?
Even if he regretted it, it was useless.
In this lifetime, no matter whether he had to seize, coerce, or cling shamelessly, he would never let go of Meng Xueyuan.
After being refused the chance to look after Meng Xueyuan, Lu Xiao couldn’t sleep and had nothing to do. Suddenly thinking back to the source of it all, he decided to harass Chu Hao.
Although the bee pupae’s kidney-boosting effect wasn’t the decisive factor, it had been an important trigger—at the very least, Chu Hao had paid for it.
As soon as the call connected, Lu Xiao began, “You—”
Chu Hao thought Lu Xiao was calling to scold him for meddling and struck first: “You want to say the bee pupae were useless, right? I knew it. Ha, Lu Third, being this cowardly—how’s that any different from impotence?!”
Lu Xiao: “……”
Lu Xiao hung up and dragged him straight into the blacklist.
Since he couldn’t sleep anyway, Lu Xiao sat on the living-room sofa, listening for any movement in the bedroom, and also ordered some anti-inflammatory ointment and fever-reducing medicine through a delivery runner.
He sat quietly there, his broad back rising and falling in the darkness like a range of mountains.
He and Meng Xueyuan were now truly bound together as one, and he had to take responsibility for their future.
Only when he became a self-reliant Lu Xiao—rather than Third Young Master Lu who still needed his brothers’ help—would he be qualified to make their marriage public to the world.
He couldn’t wait. He wanted everyone to know about their relationship.
In the entertainment industry, there’s an unspoken rule: unless it’s for bundled marketing, when top stars in their prime get married, it doesn’t mean they’ll interact frequently. On the contrary, they’ll rarely mention each other, preserving a sense of mystery around the marriage for the public, leaving room for speculation, and also to appear more “professional.”
Fans will even compare their careers, arguing about who’s leeching off whom. But if one person leaves the industry, there’s nothing left to dissect, and a lot of trouble can be avoided. Besides, when both are stars, they spend three hundred days a year flying all over the place, joining different productions like two busy high-speed trains that barely stop at the station. If one steps back, there’s more time to be together.
Lu Xiao called his agent and said, “Draft a statement about my withdrawal from the industry. Post it tomorrow at a suitable time.”
The agent knew Lu Xiao would go crazy one day and suppressed his turbulent emotions. “Aren’t the movie and the variety show still unfinished?”
Lu Xiao said, “Perfect timing. I’ll give him another push.”
His last two projects before retiring were both connected to Meng Xueyuan; the attention would definitely be unprecedented.
Once he retired, Meng Xueyuan could climb another step higher.
Agent: “So will you still want to be consulted on everything related to Meng Xueyuan?”
Lu Xiao replied without hesitation, “Of course.”
Agent: “Alright, then.”
That night, Lu Xiao dozed briefly on the sofa. When he woke the next morning and scrolled through his phone, sure enough, he saw a statement posted by Lu Xiao Studio.
The announcement phrased it tactfully: due to changes in work plans, aside from the unfinished film and the variety show Harmony of Marriage, Lu Xiao would no longer take on new work, business inquiry emails would no longer be answered, and they asked for everyone’s understanding.
The entertainment industry was instantly shaken. It was the first time people had seen a top idol voluntarily withdraw, and some even speculated whether Lu Xiao had gotten himself into trouble and was preemptively covering his bases.
What kind of people spend all day wishing others would get into trouble? Way too idle.
Lu Xiao opened Weibo, edited, and posted—
[Planning to go home and inherit the family business. Don’t miss me, don’t worry.]
As soon as this was posted—
The tone was a bit cheeky, a bit provocative, but it eased the heartbreak of those who couldn’t bear to part with Lu Xiao.
Career fans who genuinely wished the brothers well also found comfort, asking one after another, “So who exactly is our dad?”
Only the CP fans were devastated. What?! The CP that had just come back from the dead was going back into the grave?!
What kind of springtime peach-blossom limited edition is this! We haven’t even tasted the peach yet!
Quit your peach!
Countless fans flooded the official account of Harmony of Marriage, demanding that the second episode be infinitely long… before it was even filmed, episode two was already a hit.
Just as Lu Xiao had expected, these CP fans would convert into Meng Xueyuan’s fans.
The variety show director even called specially to thank him. “Don’t worry, Lu Xiao. With this level of buzz, I’ve already decided on the standby guests—all from within the industry. Outsiders fighting wouldn’t look good. I’ll even add another married couple for you. Three couples in total—you definitely won’t be the minority. No one will dare mess with you.”
Lu Xiao: “……”
When Meng Xueyuan woke up, the hot searches were filled with news of Lu Xiao’s withdrawal from the industry, and his own name had also been trending alongside it all day.
Lu Xiao had already told him he planned to retire; Meng Xueyuan just hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly.
After retirement, they probably wouldn’t see each other much. Luckily, he’d already completed his nuptial flight successfully.
No—actually, even before the retirement, aside from the past month, they hadn’t seen each other much either, each filming in far-flung places.
They met more often on the trending searches than in real life.
Thinking that way, Meng Xueyuan felt relieved again.
The lock turned once, and the door that had been bolted shut opened from the outside.
Lu Xiao forced the door open and found himself face to face with his just-awakened wife.
“Ahem. You—I didn’t hear any movement, so I was really worried.”
A queen bee has a spermatheca, permanently storing the sperm obtained during the nuptial flight and keeping it viable, releasing it later when needed.
A human queen bee probably has something similar. At any rate, Meng Xueyuan’s genes came with this built-in sense of preservation. Although he didn’t know exactly where Lu Xiao’s pollen had gone, after one night it had all been absorbed. He wasn’t worried about Lu Xiao launching a surprise inspection.
Meng Xueyuan calmly met his gaze. “Oh. Thank you for your concern.”
Lu Xiao touched the hand exposed above the blanket, then touched his forehead. Seeing that he looked full of energy, he finally relaxed.
“I’m sorry—”
“I’m sorry—”
They spoke at the same time.
Lu Xiao froze. “I’m apologizing for my recklessness. What are you apologizing for?”
Meng Xueyuan was worried he might have squeezed Lu Xiao too hard, but was too embarrassed to be blunt, so he asked, “Did it feel good?”
Lu Xiao answered like a simpleton, “It felt great.”
Afraid one word wouldn’t be convincing enough, he hurriedly wracked his brain for a comparison—
“Better than taking an F1 corner at full throttle!”
Just that? Meng Xueyuan pursed his lips.
Hmph. If taking corners at full throttle were really that amazing, would Lu Xiao have quit the racing world without a shred of reluctance?
