Mistaken ‘O’ is a Crazy Gorgeous Boss - Chapter 56

Light footsteps echoed in the corridor as Qu Zhen, holding two phones in her hands, found her thoughts tangled and chaotic. Her gaze flickered restlessly between the two devices.

The footsteps drew closer.

Vaguely, Qu Zhen felt as if she had become prey caught in a trap, while Shen Zhikou, separated from her by just a wall, was the hunter leisurely stepping over withered leaves, closing in with calm assurance.

The successful hunter pressed forward step by step, the dry leaves rustling in the wind, mingling with the white, spider-silk-like threads of the net. Qu Zhen’s heart pounded wildly. As the footsteps halted, she turned around and met the gaze of the newcomer.

The door to the master bedroom was ajar.

Lifting her eyes, she saw Shen Zhikou holding a bouquet of bellflowers, studying her with a profound expression. The corridor leading to the master bedroom was unlit, casting a dimness around them that made the approaching figure seem even more dangerous, like a wild rose blooming in early summer, enchanting yet thorny.

“Sister.”

Shen Zhikou approached and reached out to turn on the bedroom light.

The illuminated phone screen still displayed the chat window. Qu Zhen made no attempt to hide it from Shen Zhikou, certain that from Shen Zhikou’s position, she would undoubtedly see the content on the screen.

Yet Shen Zhikou did not broach the topic of the gaming alter ego. Instead, she paused by the wardrobe, a few steps away, and glanced down at the bellflowers in her arms as if completely unaware.

“Playing hide and seek?” she asked.

Her voice sounded no different from usual. Qu Zhen’s obliviousness in front of Shen Zhikou was extraordinary; she couldn’t detect the faint trace of amusement in Shen Zhikou’s tone.

It was like the calm before the storm.

Or perhaps the delight, pleasure, and a hint of inexplicable mischief before a secret was voluntarily revealed.

There was no trace of tension.

Qu Zhen estimated that it would take about four steps to reach Shen Zhikou’s side and finally embrace the Omega she had been longing for all afternoon.

But she didn’t take the initiative to close the distance. They maintained this strangely measured gap of four steps.

Her gaze drifted from the pristine petals to Shen Zhikou’s jade-like face. Like a gambler with no chips left, her heart was in turmoil, relying solely on a sliver of luck to ring the bell of fate.

“No,” she shook her head. “Sister’s backup phone had an alarm set for 6:20. I came in to turn it off.”

“Hmm.”

Perhaps the young alpha looked too pitiful and conflicted, the seasoned hunter decided to loosen the web a little, lest she truly harm the trapped creature.

“The alarm is off,” Shen Zhikou said softly. “Then why are you still standing there?”

Facing Shen Zhikou, Qu Zhen knew she had never stood a chance. She hadn’t learned how to conceal things, nor had she considered keeping this matter hidden and continuing to interact with Z as an online friend.

Pressing her lips together, she asked first, “Sister, have you ever played a game called Foxis?”

More than just played.

If Qu Zhen were to look up the development studio behind Foxis, she would uncover the vast network hidden behind it. The Yikiy Studio, which developed Foxis, was backed by the current Guangrun Co., Ltd. Digging a little deeper, she would discover that this company had long been acquired by Shengcan Digital Research Technology Co., Ltd., and behind it all stood the true giant, Shengcan Group, which held half the economic lifeline of Haicheng.

But this was all she, as an ordinary person, could uncover.

Of course, she had no idea that all the data from the game Foxis, or the real-time data of the player with the ID “Qiye Zhenzhen,” would be presented in precise reports on someone’s computer.

From the moment she opened the game, logged into her account, and checked the real-time distance of her friends list, all her actions had already been anticipated.

But until the very end, the hunter would never discard their weapon.

“I’ve played it,” Shen Zhikou glanced at her. “I used to play when work wasn’t so busy, but now it’s too hectic, so I don’t have as much time.”

She answered truthfully, her voice lingering softly, but then she abruptly changed the subject at the end: “What’s wrong? You don’t look too well. Haven’t you been taking good care of yourself at home?”

Home.

Yes, this was her home with Shen Zhikou. They were already married, just a coincidence, really. What was she overthinking? Qu Zhen lowered her gaze, lost in thought.

The program running Qu Zhen’s mind was dismantled by Shen Zhikou’s two casual remarks.

She even confessed without being pressed further: “Sister, I played this game with my roommate in college too. Back then, we weren’t as busy, and the four of us would play a few rounds every night. Then, I met a player in the game who sometimes played with us. She was really skilled and clever. Because of the game, we even exchanged WeChat contacts.”

The four-step distance between them remained unchanged. Shen Zhikou unabashedly observed the softly murmuring alpha, her interest growing.

“Hmm, I don’t have many friends in Foxis. Only two of them have been around for a while, and we’ve played together for a long time.”

“Sister, can you tell me what their IDs are?”

The distance shifted.

Shen Zhikou took a step closer to Qu Zhen. Just as Qu Zhen thought she would come even closer, the exquisitely beautiful Omega stopped three steps away, her fingers gently brushing the soft petals of the lisianthus flower, her expression unreadable.

“One is called ‘Frost Deceives the Crabapple.’ She told me she’s a married alpha. Being a married alpha in the game helps her avoid a lot of trouble. At first, I didn’t understand what kind of trouble she meant, but as my ranking on the leaderboard improved, many unfamiliar IDs tried to add me as a friend. That’s when I realized what she was talking about.”

The fragrance of the lisianthus was not overpowering; it lingered faintly on her fingertips and could be swept away with a breeze.

“So, in the game, I started lying and saying I was a married alpha too. It was quite effective. After I used that excuse to reject them, none of those IDs persisted in adding me.”

The delicate petals grew even more fragile under her touch, reminding Shen Zhikou of the young alpha’s gland, just as tender and thin, yet gradually flushing with a soft pink when pierced.

“As for the other one…” Her gaze met Qu Zhen’s, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. “Asking so specifically, are you jealous?”

Like a touched mimosa, Qu Zhen closed up.

“No,” she insisted. “Sister, can you just tell me what her ID is?”

“Qiye Zhenzhen.”

The heavy stone weighing on her heart vanished, and many chaotic thoughts disappeared along with it.

She confirmed that her sister truly hadn’t recognized her and hadn’t intended to hide anything, they just hadn’t discussed the game before, and she had never played Foxis in front of her.

Letting out a breath, she felt a wave of relief as she took a step closer to Shen Zhikou, only to pause awkwardly two steps away.

That two-step distance left room for everything. Recalling all their previous conversations, Qu Zhen glanced down at the floor, blushing.

Her sister, being a married alpha, was spared from certain troubles, which made Qu Zhen genuinely happy. Yet, she had indeed treated her as a married alpha, seeking advice on soothing techniques and relationship matters.

A peculiar sense of embarrassment lingered in her heart.

Qu Zhen blinked, cleared her throat, and then looked up as if about to announce something of great importance.

“Sister.”

“Hmm.”

“Have you not logged in for a while?”

Shen Zhikou seemed uncertain. “Foxis?”

Qu Zhen nodded. “Yes.”

“It’s been quite some time, I suppose. I’ve been busy with business trips lately, and after returning, I helped you through your sensitive period. I haven’t logged in for a while.”

Hearing the words “sensitive period,” Qu Zhen’s last shred of doubt vanished.

She thought, what a coincidence, not only was her sister her kind-hearted sister, but she was also Z, the gaming buddy she had played with since her sophomore year. All these coincidences were a sign of fate.

Otherwise, when they made wishes by the sacred tree on Star Island, the old lady selling wish ribbons wouldn’t have said that the two of them must be deeply connected.

Fate is preordained, this must be the bond between them.

Once she understood, Qu Zhen grew even more convinced. She closed the remaining two steps and stood beside Shen Zhikou as usual, gripping her left hand with her right.

“Sister, the gaming friend I met in Foxis has an ID that’s just one letter.”

She slowly unfolded Shen Zhikou’s left hand and used her right index finger to trace the letter Z on her palm. As she finished the last stroke, she drew a tiny heart.

“Her ID is Z, and the WeChat nickname she exchanged with me is also Z.”

The young alpha’s voice reached her ears, and a faint itch spread from Shen Zhikou’s palm, an unusually tingling sensation, like a soft feather brushing against her heart.

Why Z?

Because the girl she held dear in her heart had the single-character name Zhen.

Zhenzhen, Zhenzhen.

To her, this was the most beautiful address in the world.

She loved calling her that and wished she could do so all the time. Yet, over the past six years, she had never had the chance.

“I updated the game today and found that Foxis has a new feature. I wasn’t interested at first, but my phone’s location was still on, and when I checked the game list, I saw the distance between Z and me.”

Qu Zhen’s voice was filled with joy. “It showed less than six meters apart. I was so surprised. Right then, your phone alarm went off. I walked to the bedroom to turn it off, and when I looked back at my phone, the distance between Z and me had become zero.”

The dimmed phone screen lit up again. Qu Zhen opened the chat interface and held it up for Shen Zhikou to see.

“It’s you, Sister!”

She chirped like an excited little hamster. “Z, hello there, I’m Qiye Zhenzhen. So now, should I call you Z? Or should I call you Sister?”

The exhaustion from work was swept away by her estrus cycle, and the continuous stream of good news made Qu Zhen incredibly happy.

Shen Zhikou loved seeing her little one so joyful and wished for her to always be this happy, surrounded only by beautiful things, except for herself.

And it could only be except for her.

A dark intensity surged in her captivating eyes, but she lowered her gaze to conceal her emotions.

When she looked up again, the surprise in her eyes was unmistakable, as if she had just learned the news, as if it were all truly a coincidence and an accident.

“What a coincidence,” she said. “So, how should I address you?”

Without giving Qu Zhen time to react, she continued unhurriedly, “Should I call you ‘Little Melody’ for Qiye Zhenzhen? Or ‘Zhenzhen’ from ‘lush and abundant leaves’? Or perhaps… we could switch to another form of address?”

She seemed to smile, her tone lingering with affection: “Wife.”