Tang Qiyue was awakened by a sudden suffocating sensation. Her eyes fluttered open, and she immediately felt a head pressed against her neck. Her pulse throbbed dangerously beneath the skin.
Her post-apocalyptic instincts kicked in. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around the man's neck, her wrists straining as if to break it.
Fortunately, Zhan Zeyi reacted instantly, grabbing her wrists before she could move further.
"Your stress response is… unusual," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous in the dark.
Tang Qiyue froze, gradually realizing how absurd her actions had been. Even a delicate young woman, no matter how toughened by life, shouldn't have a side so ruthless.
But she couldn't explain herself. Only her rapid breathing filled the tense silence.
Zhan Zeyi clicked his tongue—a sound he always made when annoyed. Then, suddenly, he lifted Tang Qiyue's wrists and pressed them above her head, forcing her body straight. The awkward position made her let out tiny, helpless murmurs.
Those soft sounds, however, awakened the mischievous impulses lurking in Zhan Zeyi.
The difference in strength was too great. Tang Qiyue dared not resist. She softened her body, careful not to get hurt, expecting perhaps a scolding—or worse—but never imagining that Zhan Zeyi would use his teeth.
The bulge on her neck was bitten—not viciously, like an animal—but with deliberate, grinding pressure.
Anyone watching might think he was using her neck as a teething toy.
"I… I was wrong!" Tang Qiyue finally blurted out.
Speaking only seemed to provoke him further. Laughter rumbled from her neck as he abandoned the bite and pulled her into his arms, nibbling at her earlobe instead—a spot he was oddly fascinated with.
Though gentler than before, Tang Qiyue didn't dare move. Nestled against him, she realized just how small she was in comparison to this man.
"I… I was half asleep and forgot about the wedding!" she said, trying to explain, suppressing every odd sound.
"I healed your injury," Zhan Zeyi replied, his lips brushing against her ear. "Even if I make a small mistake, you don't have to hold a grudge, do you?"
Tang Qiyue, frustrated, tried to cover his mouth with her hand. He, however, forced her hand aside, flipping her onto his chest so she lay face down against him.
"You were trying to kill your husband. I was just reminding you—what's with the grudge?" he asked, his tone teasing yet firm.
Tang Qiyue wiped her hand across his stubbled chin, unsure if there was any saliva—but it left her feeling oddly numb. She couldn't escape, so she propped her head up slightly, avoiding pressing her face into his.
"I didn't! I was just being cautious!"
He released her hands, resting them behind his head. In the dim moonlight, he watched her attempt to justify herself.
Years of surviving life-or-death situations had honed his instincts. He knew Tang Qiyue's reaction wasn't mere paranoia—if he hadn't been fast, things could have ended badly.
He didn't doubt her identity; his old leader wouldn't have arranged the marriage otherwise. Tang Qiyue was clearly full of secrets—he could sense it from the injuries she had healed herself.
"My little wife… full of secrets," he murmured.
"I told you we wouldn't be a fake couple, remember?" Zhan Zeyi said, letting the topic rest.
As Tang Qiyue tried to wriggle free, he pulled her close again, pinching her cheek. The softness beneath his fingers was irresistible.
"I know… then why not just be a real couple?" Tang Qiyue whispered, guiding his large hand toward her body.
But Zhan Zeyi stopped her, pulling her into his arms firmly.
"We're going to the island tomorrow. You'll be busy. Don't slack off now."
And just like that, her bold advance was halted.
Tang Qiyue noticed that Zhan Zeyi's body was fully functional—so why had he stopped?
Was it pride? Or something else entirely? She didn't ask. Perhaps Tang Chunlan had been right—men had pride, after all.
After calming herself, Tang Qiyue drifted back to sleep.
Zhan Zeyi, still restless, despised his own restraint. He had recovered, yet he had given up when she guided him forward. To act now would have been deliberate, and he wanted none of that.
So he simply pinched her cheek, ignoring her sleepy protests, and fell asleep with her pressed against his neck.
By dawn, the night's undercurrents had vanished. Tang Qiyue woke to find Zhan Zeyi gone, and the absence of his gaze made her feel much more relaxed.
She changed, grabbed a basin, and went out to wash up. At the washbasin, Xu Qiuju and several other military wives were helping the children brush their teeth and wash their faces. They greeted Tang Qiyue warmly.
After washing, Xu Qiuju pulled her aside. "Sister-in-law, I heard from the children's father… once we're on the island, there's no contact with the outside world. No phones. Only radio communication, and it's classified!"
Tang Qiyue nodded, understanding the warning. She went to the guesthouse front desk, got two sheets of stationery, and began writing a letter to her mother—letting her know she was safe and explaining the situation.
When Zhan Zeyi returned, he saw her writing and leaned over. "Just use the garrison office as the return address—they deliver to the island regularly."
He casually suggested that she could write to his mother as well.
"You can write one too," he said. "They're both mothers anyway."
Tang Qiyue raised an eyebrow. Strange, yet somehow endearing.