Pregnant with My Late Husband’s Child - Chapter 6

The vomiting lasted for about five minutes. When it ended, Li Yixing’s face was even paler than before. He picked up a glass of water to rinse his mouth, clearing away the remaining filth, and then splashed water on his face.

Crystal-clear droplets fell from his white, porcelain-like visage. His black hair was soaked, sticking to his forehead and constantly dripping water.

Li Yixing used a white cotton towel to wipe away the annoying droplets, casting the predictable little episode to the back of his mind. He showered as usual, put on gray cotton pajamas, and fished a bottle of his standard Soothing Agent F from the bedside cabinet, preparing to inject it into his vein.

The voice of 587 sounded at the perfect moment: “Sir, I detected that you already used Soothing Agent F on the aircraft today. The interval between doses of Soothing Agent F must be more than eight hours, or it is likely to cause side effects such as headaches, lethargy, rapid heart rate, and limb stiffness. You cannot use it now.”

Li Yixing: “…”

He ignored the AI’s prattle and proceeded to inject the Soothing Agent F into his vein. Once finished, he casually tossed the empty syringe into the trash can.

587: “…”

The master’s stubbornness left the household robot in an eerie silence. Thirty seconds later, it could not help but issue a warning: “Sir, abusing soothing agents will cause damage to your body.”

“I will not die,” Li Yixing said concisely. His words sounded slightly harsh to the AI: “You do not need to worry about becoming a masterless AI and being recycled by the AI Management Center for the time being.”

587: “…”

As the words fell, 587’s blinking eyes watched Li Yixing lie down on the bed. With no other choice, it adjusted the room’s brightness, temperature, and humidity to accommodate his rest.

“Good night, sir,” 587 said.

As 587 predicted, Li Yixing woke up the next day suffering from the sequelae of overusing the soothing agent.

His head felt like it was splitting open, and his limbs were incredibly weak. Fortunately, these side effects would not last very long; they would disappear entirely in about three hours.

“Beep-beep!”

The communication channel began ringing relentlessly. Li Yixing felt as if his skull was about to explode, but he still answered the unidentified number.

“Hello.” His voice was as calm as ever, devoid of any fluctuation.

“I am Feng Zhao,” the person on the other end said, cutting straight to the point. “Minister Li, finding your contact information is truly troublesome.”

Feng Zhao did not have the bad habit of saving his rival’s contact information. He had only obtained this number after jumping through hoops to get it from his younger brother, Feng Zhiyu. The latter was also a student at Dacles Military Academy and a junior in the same department as Li Yixing.

“Heh.” On the other side, Li Yixing sneered. “I do not visit a temple without a cause. What brings you here, Major General Feng?”

“The socialites of the Yas district are holding a charity banquet at the St. Sophia Grand Auditorium tonight,” Feng Zhao replied, his smile equally grinding. “We are both on the guest list, Minister Li. The time has come for us to put on a show!”

Li Yixing: “…”

“I request that Minister Li wait for two or three minutes at the Security Department building after work this afternoon,” Feng Zhao continued. “I will come to pick you up.”

Li Yixing wanted to refuse, but thinking about how the gossiping media would spin a chaotic story if they did not appear together, he could only agree.

“Fine,” Li Yixing said.

Thus, that afternoon, Major General Feng’s blindingly bright red aircraft landed brazenly in the plaza in front of the Security Department building. It was incredibly flashy, and the sight made Li Yixing’s eyes ache.

The surrounding gazes made Li Yixing feel a long-forgotten sense of loss of face, so he walked quickly to the aircraft, pulled open the hatch, and sat down in the passenger seat.

The moment he sat down, Li Yixing’s voice echoed in the cabin: “Major General Feng’s taste really runs downhill.”

Feng Zhao, while adjusting the flight path, responded with a fake, stiff smile: “Minister Li does not like it? This is the aircraft I specifically chose for you. Newlyweds should, of course, be vibrant and flashy.”

Li Yixing: “…”

Both turned their heads away to look at the blue sky and white clouds outside the window, finding each other an eyesore.

The air pressure inside the aircraft was terrifyingly low. No one spoke; it felt as if ice shards were hanging in the air. There were actually two evening gowns hanging behind the pilot’s seat, but they did not care. They were too lazy to even change clothes, heading toward the St. Sophia Grand Auditorium in their work uniforms.

After arriving at the destination, the aircraft landed in the square outside the auditorium. Feng Zhao exited first, walked around to Li Yixing’s side to open the hatch, and extended his hand like a gentleman, gesturing for Li Yixing to get out immediately.

Li Yixing’s face, hidden inside the hatch, was expressionless and cold as ice, but the moment he appeared in the light, he replaced it with a facade of treacherous, smiling intimacy.

The two engaged in a fake gaze, a fake smile, pretending to be a pair of deeply infatuated lovers.

Li Yixing suppressed his discomfort and placed his black-leather-gloved fingers into Feng Zhao’s palm.

Feng Zhao closed his eyes for a split second and grasped Li Yixing’s knuckles.

The two stepped off the aircraft in perfect harmony. Once inside the auditorium and certain the media could not see them, they released each other’s hands as if they had just been contaminated by a virus.

They entered the banquet hall one after the other. The socialites of the Yas district were mingling, and people greeted them from time to time.

In the center of the auditorium, some were dancing a waltz, and the melodic classical music lingered and filled the hall.

Li Yixing and Feng Zhao walked side by side toward the interior of the hall. Both wore happy smiles and met each other’s eyes from time to time; to everyone else, they were simply an inseparable, sweet couple.

They soon reached the inner hall. Li Yixing found an inconspicuous corner to sit down and asked a robot waiter for a glass of plain water.

Feng Zhao sat beside him, watching the crowd push cups and exchange toasts with boredom.

Although they sat together, they were subtly separated by an arm’s length, looking straight ahead at other things as if the people around them were not people, but mere clumps of air.

Soon, Li Yixing’s water arrived, but it was not brought by a robot; it was brought by a young man in a navy blue double-breasted suit.

This young man was none other than Feng Zhao’s younger brother, Feng Zhiyu.

He resembled Feng Zhao by about forty to fifty percent, with the same chestnut hair and a similar, angular silhouette, though his eyes were amber, and his eye shape was gentler and rounder compared to Feng Zhao’s sharp, deep features.

Li Yixing had some memory of him. He was four years younger than both of them and was also a student in the Special Operations Department at Dacles Military Academy. When Li Yixing was still studying there, he often bumped into him in the library.

In his memory, he was much easier to get along with than Feng Zhao. He would politely address Li Yixing as “Senior” and often asked him professional questions. Although Li Yixing was at odds with Feng Zhao, he did not take it out on the younger brother. He maintained a normal attitude toward Feng Zhiyu—neither paying him too much attention nor ignoring him.

Feng Zhiyu placed the glass of warm water into Li Yixing’s palm: “Senior, your water.”

“Thank you.” Li Yixing thanked him indifferently and took a sip to moisten his throat.

“Brother is here, too,” Feng Zhiyu turned his head to look at Feng Zhao. “Brother and Senior are getting married soon. I wish you a happy marriage and a wonderful life.”

Li Yixing: “…”

Even if the media outside was clueless, Feng Zhiyu, as a member of the Feng family, knew perfectly well that this was just a political marriage. Why was he feigning ignorance here?

What exactly was he planning?

On the other side, Feng Zhao cleared his throat and said with a beaming smile: “Then I will certainly take you up on that.”

Feng Zhiyu also smiled, but he looked only at Li Yixing. His smile was warm and his voice gentle: “Senior, may I sit next to you?”

Li Yixing did not refuse. He remained expressionless, his tone as indifferent as before: “Do as you like.”

Feng Zhiyu’s eyes lit up just the right amount. He sat down beside Li Yixing as requested and started chatting with him casually.

Feng Zhao sat on the sidelines like he was on pins and needles, wanting to escape immediately. However, he had not forgotten his persona as a man deeply in love with Li Yixing, so he could only accompany him dutifully, acting as the considerate, affectionate, and devoted Alliance Major General.

If a movie star from the Venus Academy of Fine Arts had come to see Feng Zhao’s performance, they would have given him a thumbs-up. Truly professional—too professional!

The banquet concluded with a masquerade. Li Yixing accepted the mask delivered by a robot and looked at Feng Zhao with a blank face. Feng Zhao looked at the mask with an indescribable expression before meeting Li Yixing’s gaze. Both saw a death-defying look in the other’s eyes, as if they were about to swallow a ton of flies.

But soon, Li Yixing smiled again. He put on the mask, tied the silk ribbon behind his head with both hands, and told Feng Zhao in a flat, straight tone: “For the record, Major General Feng, I do not dance.”

Feng Zhao: “…”

This time, Major General Feng could not even be bothered to force a fake smile. He simply mouthed silently: “Li Yixing, do you not even draft your lies?”

The curriculum of the Special Operations Department was complex. Students in the intelligence track, in particular, had to be proficient in tango, jazz, and classical dance; perhaps they even had to know ballet and ancient Earth folk dances. How could a model student like Li Yixing, who ranked first in every subject, not know how to dance?

On the other side, Li Yixing had already put on his mask. A black feathered mask covered his face seamlessly, with a dozen long golden chains dangling from the bottom, gleaming under the light and obscuring the lower half of his face.

He held out his hand to Feng Zhao.

Countless eyes in the shadows were watching them. Weighing the pros and cons, Feng Zhao took Li Yixing’s hand.

The moment they touched, what he felt against his palm was not skin, but the cold, tight-fitting black leather glove covering the knuckles.

Feng Zhiyu, sitting behind them, pressed his lips into a flat line, his eyes dark.

Under the bright lights of the St. Sophia Grand Auditorium, they danced in front of the crowd. It was the most basic waltz, and the music played like a flowing stream beside them. Li Yixing expressionlessly bent his waist and, to Feng Zhao’s surprise, took the female role.

Feng Zhao froze for a moment, an eerie sense of being flattered rising within him—or rather, a sense of being horrified.

But before that flattery could fully form, a sharp, piercing pain extended from the sole of his foot to the top of his head!

Li Yixing’s black, heeled military boots had stomped hard onto Feng Zhao’s instep!

Feng Zhao: “…”

His face distorted in pain for an instant before he recovered his smile, though the smile looked incredibly strained.

Damn you, Li Yixing! Feng Zhao gritted his teeth inwardly. I knew he was up to no good!

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