Mistaken ‘O’ is a Crazy Gorgeous Boss - Chapter 68

The cold wind howled as it rushed into the underground garage.

Standing in the shadows, Qu Zhen’s thoughts were tangled like a mess of ropes. She averted her gaze and instinctively tightened her grip on Shen Zhikou’s hand.

“It’s nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “Sister, let’s talk in the car.”

“Mm.”

Once seated in the familiar vehicle, she loosened her scarf slightly and let her gaze rest on the cat and dog figurines on the dashboard. Shen Zhikou leaned over to fasten her seatbelt, asking with meticulous care, “Does your ankle hurt?”

Qu Zhen tucked a stray strand of hair behind Shen Zhikou’s ear. “No, it doesn’t. Are you cold, sister? Should I turn up the air conditioning a bit more?”

“I’m fine. If you’re cold, go ahead and adjust it.”

Qu Zhen’s voice was soft. “I’m okay too. We’ll be home soon.”

“Mm.” Shen Zhikou leaned back, responding to every word she said. “We’ll be there in half an hour.”

As the black car drove out of the underground garage, Qu Zhen’s mind still felt somewhat hazy. After silently sorting through all the information, she began to suspect that the two employees might have been referring to another alpha.

After all, Elva Private Hospital was the largest hospital in Haicheng, with six inpatient buildings alone, each standing twenty-two stories tall. This meant there were six different rooms labeled 606 on the eighth floor across the hospital, and six different patients occupying them.

She was only one of those six, and some of the details the employees mentioned didn’t match her situation.

Most importantly, she believed Shen Zhikou would never deceive her.

With this realization, the corners of Qu Zhen’s lips curved upward, her mood shifting from overcast gloom to radiant sunshine. She even felt a tinge of self-reproach, because for a fleeting moment when she first overheard the conversation, she couldn’t help but hesitate.

Haicheng, bustling with traffic, was shrouded in a curtain of rain. Up ahead, the 90-second pedestrian green light lit up, and the long line of cars came to an orderly halt, waiting. Gazing at the rainy scene, Qu Zhen suddenly recalled a piece of marital advice she had read in a book:

For two people in love to maintain a long-lasting marriage, one of the most crucial foundations is unwavering trust in each other.

Pressing her lips together, she took advantage of the remaining 75 seconds on the countdown, turned to Shen Zhikou, and gave her a brief, gentle kiss. To be more precise, it was a one-sided kiss, Qu Zhen’s lips lightly pecked and brushed against Shen Zhikou’s. Shen Zhikou seemed momentarily stunned, her lips remaining closed as she allowed Qu Zhen to kiss her softly.

Under the glowing green light, the countdown showed 30 seconds remaining.

Qu Zhen kissed the corner of Shen Zhikou’s lips once more before turning back to her seat. This was the first time she had ever done something like this. Even though the tightly closed windows offered excellent privacy, blocking all outside gazes, her cheeks still flushed faintly, like a mimosa plant about to fold its leaves.

With 20 seconds left, Shen Zhikou decided to give her shy, well-behaved child some time to recover.

Only when the traffic light changed and the long line of cars began moving again, crossing the wide bridge, did Shen Zhikou leisurely ask, “What would you like to eat tonight?”

Having regained her composure, Qu Zhen’s porcelain-like face showed no trace of blush. She leaned forward and shifted the dog figurine slightly to the right, until it was almost touching the white cat figurine.

“I’d like to eat the noodles you make, sister,” she said.

The weather in Lingshan was harsh, making the transport of supplies difficult. Moreover, the locals favored noodles, so she often ate various kinds of soup noodles there. Yet, no matter how many she tried, she always felt that the noodles Shen Zhikou made for her were the most delicious.

Or perhaps, her longing was so intense that everything she saw reminded her of Shen Zhikou.

“Alright.”

Her slender fingers, resting on the steering wheel, were as delicate as scallions and as pale as congealed lard, except for the frostbite on the side of her left ring finger, which glowed with a sandalwood-red hue. Yet it did nothing to mar her beauty; instead, it added a touch of allure, like a hibiscus petal adorning her fingertip.

Shen Zhikou gazed ahead and turned the steering wheel to the right. “But we must follow the doctor’s advice and supplement your nutrition, so I’ll prepare a few other dishes as well.”

Making noodles was simple, but proper cooking involved many steps and processes. With Shen Zhikou’s frostbite not yet healed, Qu Zhen couldn’t bear to let her fuss around in the kitchen.

After a moment’s thought, she suggested, “Then I’ll order takeout.”

“I’ll make whatever you want to eat.”

Qu Zhen looked at her intently and explained, “When you’re better, I want to eat the rose-marinated fish you make.”

“I can make it now too,” Shen Zhikou tried to negotiate. “I just need to avoid cold water.”

Qu Zhen was firm. “Not now.”

Seeing the little alpha so serious and resolute, a flicker of amusement passed through Shen Zhikou’s eyes. “Alright, then we’ll order takeout.”

…

Returning to Xinyu Garden after a long absence, the rain intensified just before they entered the house, drumming loudly against the corridor windows.

Qu Zhen changed her shoes first and stood facing Shen Zhikou, gently removing her scarf and the mask she had worn since getting out of the car. Once everything was undone, she cupped Shen Zhikou’s face and kissed her.

As tenderly and carefully as if holding a priceless treasure, the kiss was exceptionally gentle.

Their lips and tongues intertwined intimately, and Qu Zhen, who had started off taking the lead, gradually yielded to Shen Zhikou’s advances. By the end, Shen Zhikou had playfully nibbled on her lower lip. Qu Zhen pulled Shen Zhikou into her arms, holding her close and snug, murmuring in a muffled voice,

“Does the little kitten bite too?”

Shen Zhikou retorted, “Is that not allowed?”

Qu Zhen surrendered in less than three seconds.

“It’s allowed,” she said. “I set no limits for my little kitten. My kitten can do whatever she wants.”

No sooner had she spoken than Qu Zhen let out a soft sound, for Shen Zhikou had bitten her most sensitive earlobe. Her heart felt as if it had been gently scratched by a kitten’s paw, growing increasingly restless and throbbing rapidly.

The lights in the living room were still off, with only the three-colored lamp in the entryway illuminated.

The warm-toned light spilled over the two of them. Shen Zhikou released her bite after a gentle nip and then stroked the alpha’s jade-like earlobe with her thumb, watching as a blush gradually spread across her face.

Shen Zhikou asked, “Will I become a bad little kitten for biting?”

“No.”

Qu Zhen suddenly changed the subject and asked, “Then would a little kitten lie for a fish treat?”

Shen Zhikou replied, “No.”

Qu Zhen’s lips curved into a smile, her eyes crinkling like crescent moons.

She was actually very beautiful when she smiled, though in the photos Shen Zhikou had received, her smiles were rare and seldom so radiant. Shen Zhikou gazed at her unblinkingly and reached out to touch her small dimple.

“Are you that happy?”

“Yes. I mentioned before that I don’t like being lied to, so hearing your answer makes me especially happy.”

Shen Zhikou’s fingers paused almost imperceptibly.

Her kitten would indeed never deceive her for dried fish, because what her kitten loved wasn’t the dried fish, but the one who had been on her mind for over two thousand days and nights.

Over the next three days, Shen Zhikou, who had taken a long leave, returned to work, while Qu Zhen mostly stayed home studying.

She learned from the group chat that there was indeed an ancient tomb site at Lingshan. After further approval procedures were completed, the archaeological team had already begun planning and preparing for the excavation. Her teammates, aware that her injury had improved, sent small red envelopes in the group to celebrate.

The amounts weren’t large, just for good luck.

Qu Zhen happily grabbed the red envelopes. Out of more than twenty red envelopes, she was the luckiest draw in a full twelve of them. The group members then marveled at how she was practically a human-shaped koi fish. Gu Wen, who had shared accommodation with her at Lingshan, sent her a private message.

[Xiao Qu, are you really doing okay? Though it might be a bit presumptuous, I still want to ask, there aren’t any lasting effects, right?]

Qu Zhen had interacted with Gu Wen during previous field archaeology trips, and through their recent contact, she had gained a clearer understanding of Gu Wen’s character. She knew Gu Wen meant no harm by asking, Gu Wen was just straightforward by nature and didn’t beat around the bush.

She opened the input box to reply.

[No lasting effects, everything’s fine. How about you all? How are things over there?]

The reply came quickly.

[Lingshan hasn’t been as cold lately, and everyone has adjusted much better than at the beginning. The excavation plan is still under discussion and is expected to start within the next three days. Rest well, take care of yourself, and we’ll see you after your break.]

An archaeology journal lay on the coffee table beside her. Qu Zhen picked up her water glass for a drink and retrieved a black pen that had fallen to the floor. When she saw Gu Wen’s message, the latest chat on the screen caught her eye.

[By the way, I saw your partner that day. She was really worried about you, you two must have a great relationship. Can I ask how you met?]

A puzzled emoji was added at the end.

Qu Zhen was also a bit puzzled, as Gu Wen was not the type to ask about such things, her main interest was archaeology, and she usually ignored everything else. But a little curiosity was normal, so Qu Zhen didn’t overthink it and replied.

[We met by chance. Thanks for your concern! I’ll do my best to return to the team as soon as possible.]

Gu Wen’s attitude was somewhat hard to read.

[Okay. So, do you know her well?]

Qu Zhen found it even stranger.

[Yes. I know her very well.]

There was no reply for a long time. Qu Zhen assumed Gu Wen had gone to a meeting, so she closed her phone and focused on reading. By six in the evening, Qu Zhen received a delivery notification reminding her that her package had arrived.

She bundled up warmly, took her phone, and headed out to the north gate of the residential complex to pick up the package.

It was the gloves and pajamas she had bought for Shen Zhikou on the day they returned. Happily, she entered the elevator to go downstairs, looking forward to Shen Zhikou’s reaction upon receiving the surprise.

Since it would be faster to go through the underground parking garage on the first basement level, she changed her route midway and headed straight to B1.

The parking lot in the old residential complex had an odd layout. After picking up the two packages at the north gate, she returned through the parking lot, taking the left path next to the staircase. Just as she was about to pass through that area, she spotted a familiar figure.

A long black wool coat, slightly wavy hair cascading down her back, with a cool and ethereal aura, even with a mask on, she was strikingly eye-catching at first glance.

It was Shen Zhikou.

But before Qu Zhen could even manage a smile, the warmth in her eyes vanished completely the moment she caught sight of the woman standing opposite Shen Zhikou. The woman had wine-red curls, wore a short white down jacket and a light brown winter skirt, her features were striking, and her lips were as red as fire.

When Qu Zhen clearly heard the woman call out to Shen Zhikou, she froze in place, stiff as a wooden doll, unable to move.

“Auntie, what a coincidence.”

A cold wind swept through the garage, and Qu Zhen felt as if a string had snapped inside her. The warmth that had filled her entire body seemed to be stripped away layer by layer, leaving her feeling as though she had fallen into an icy abyss. She stared at them in disbelief.

She couldn’t understand why her ex-girlfriend, Su Qi, was here. She couldn’t understand why Su Qi was calling Shen Zhikou “Auntie.” And she couldn’t comprehend why Shen Zhikou remained silent, as if acknowledging and permitting it.

Yet the trust she had built up allowed a sliver of hope to linger in her heart. Perhaps Su Qi had mistaken Shen Zhikou for someone else. But that faint hope quickly evaporated into nothingness.

Because she saw Su Qi step forward with a smile, standing respectfully beside Shen Zhikou. That smile carried a hint of flattery, unlike the warmth shared between close relatives. Shen Zhikou’s gaze remained cold and unmoved, while Su Qi stood by her side and asked,

“Auntie, what are you doing here?”

Shen Zhikou did not step back. There was no one else around besides them. And after that question, Su Qi lowered her voice and said something else, the smile on her face growing even brighter.

Everything fell into place, forming a closed loop. Months ago, it was butterfly pastries that had fallen to the ground; this time, with a clatter, the package in Qu Zhen’s hands dropped to the floor. As the two of them turned to look, Qu Zhen took advantage of the momentary visual obstruction, picked up the package, and fled the garage as if running for her life.

Truth and falsehood intertwined, falsehood and truth entangled.

A hurricane swept through her mind, destroying every bit of understanding she had built and shattering the trust she had so arrogantly held onto.

As her vision blurred, bitter tears slid from the corners of her eyes. She had no idea how she made it back to the door of her apartment. All she knew was that by the time her rationality returned, she had already set down the package and stepped inside.

The familiar layout of the apartment now felt strange and distant in the wake of this overwhelmingly complex revelation.

Jiang Cheng had once mentioned that Su Qi was part of the Shen family. And among the Shen family, the only person close to Shen Zhikou in age and circumstances, and who could command such respect from Su Qi, was Shen Yunxi, the current head of the Shen family.

…The ruler of a century-old wealthy dynasty, the crowned figure on the rich list, standing at the very pinnacle of the pyramid. In the eyes of the world, she was a wolf in sheep’s clothing: cold-blooded, ruthless, and decisive.

None of these traits aligned with the Shen Zhikou she knew in daily life.

So, the employees in the hospital garage had been telling the truth, while the words of the person she trusted most had been lies.

Shen Zhikou’s name was fake, her identity was fake, her usual personality was fake, and their home was fake. Then, what about the feelings between them… were they fake too? Why had Shen Zhikou deceived her?

Was it truly so laughable? the way she was deceived, the way she confessed her love, the way she tenderly cared for everything, the way she dreamed of the future? In their marriage, in their daily interactions, what was Shen Zhikou, the real Shen Yunxi, truly thinking?

Qu Zhen’s sincere heart shattered into pieces, scattered across the ground, much like the glass greenhouse she had once built, which crumbled abruptly at its most unbreakable moment.

Now, at last, she understood that the unwavering trust she had held so firmly was nothing but a one-woman show. She had been trapped on a stage, acting out a beautiful dream where everything she cherished was real. But as the final act concluded and the dream faded, her bones ached, her heart bled, and the wound on her ankle throbbed so intensely she could no longer stand.

The scene before her grew increasingly blurred, the corners of her eyes flushed crimson as if scalded by inexplicable lies, and crystalline tears fell faster and faster.

A sudden drip echoed, and as the smart security door swung open, Qu Zhen, like a cornered animal, instinctively tried to flee.

But there was nowhere to run. In the next moment, she was embraced from behind, and soft kisses were pressed against her neck.

Even the wisest may err, and when deliberate accidents pile up, genuine surprises often catch one off guard. Perhaps sensing something amiss, Shen Zhikou’s voice was hoarse.

“Zhenzhen, where do you think you’re going?”

In that low, raspy voice lay Shen Zhikou’s countless days and nights of unfulfilled longing, and the cunning sincerity she had long schemed to reveal.