Chapter 227: What We Don’t Hide

*Runze’s POV*

By the time I get home, my mind is already three steps ahead of me.

The studio needs a name.

I need to go over the lease terms properly before I sign anything, figure out exactly how much renovation the space will need, decide where the drafting stations should go, and work out how quickly I can get the model-making area operational.

Then there is Grandmother’s project.

I still have revisions to make before I can add the finished work to my portfolio, and I want to get it done quickly. The sooner I have something substantial to show potential clients, the sooner I can start approaching them under my own name.

For the first time in a while, everything in my head feels like it is moving in the same direction.

I barely notice the car slowing until Liang Feng brings it to a stop in front of the estate. Before I can even reach for the door handle on my side, the door glides open from the outside.

Bael is standing there.

He must have arrived only moments ago. His dark suit is still perfectly arranged, but his tie is slightly loosened, and the moment his eyes find me through the open door, something in his expression changes.

I smile. "You’re really home early."

"I said I’d be home."

He steps closer and holds out his hand.

I place mine in his. His fingers close around mine, and the moment I step onto the driveway, he pulls me against him. The hug is warm and immediate, his arms closing around my shoulders while I settle naturally against his chest, feeling the quiet, steady rhythm of his heart.

I wrap my arms around his waist. For a few seconds, neither of us says anything.

Then Bael exhales slowly. "Runze."

Something in his voice makes me pull back. I look up at him.

He is staring down at me with an expression I know too well. Not anger or irritation.

Something worse.

A quiet, rigid tension.

His jaw is locked tight, and his dark eyes are fixed on me with unblinking intensity. He holds me a second longer than usual, his fingers digging into my coat to steady himself.

My smile disappears. "Wh–what happened?"

"Nothing happened."

"Then why do you look like that?"

His jaw tightens. "I need to tell you something."

My stomach drops. The words are simple. The expression isn’t.

For one horrible second, my mind goes straight to the things Bael has done before. The emails. The decisions made without asking me. The things he thought he was protecting me from until I discovered them afterward.

"...What did you do?"

His eyes flicker. That tiny movement is enough to make my heart sink further.

"I’ll tell you upstairs."

I stare at him. "Bael."

"Come with me."

He doesn’t explain, he simply takes my hand again and leads me toward the house.

I follow.

The staff greet us as we pass through the entrance. Mrs. Wen is standing near the sitting room with Ling Yue, and both of them look up when they see us. Mrs. Wen’s expression changes almost immediately. She looks at Bael, then at me. Ling Yue straightens slightly on the sofa.

Neither of them asks anything.

Bael doesn’t stop. He keeps hold of my hand all the way up the stairs.

By the time we reach our bedroom, my heart is beating hard enough that I can feel it in my throat. Bael opens the door, lets me inside, and follows.

The door closes behind us. He locks it.

The sharp click of the lock sounds much louder than it should.

I turn around. Bael is already looking at me. For several seconds, neither of us speaks.

I can see it now. He is afraid. Not of me... of what I’m going to think when he tells me.

My chest tightens. Whatever this is, he genuinely thinks I might be angry.

I step closer. Bael’s eyes follow me carefully. I raise both hands and cup his face, his skin is warm beneath my palms.

"...It’s okay," I tell him softly. "You can tell me."

His eyes close for a second. "I’m trying to."

"Then try."

A shaky breath leaves him. He opens his eyes again. "I’ve been meaning to tell you this because I don’t want you finding out later and thinking I hid it from you."

My thumb moves slowly along his cheek. "I’m listening."

He looks at me for another moment before his arms come around me. He pulls me into his chest, resting his jaw against my shoulder.

"Liang Feng reports to me."

I blink, my hands remaining on his shoulders. "...What?"

"Whenever you go out, he texts me," Bael says, his voice low against my neck. "Your location, where the car stops, how long you stay inside... Updates every twenty to thirty minutes."

I keep holding him, listening.

"I gave the order after the wedding," Bael says, his voice low and tight. "After the chandelier. I told him I needed to know where you were every time you left the estate."

He pauses, his chest rising as he takes a short breath.

"Today was the first time Liang Feng drove you anywhere since you got back from the hospital. And he was texting me the whole time." He looks down at me, his jaw working. "I remembered what I promised you, that’s why I... I don’t want to hide it from you and I’m not going to lie to you about it. And Runze... I’m not going to tell him to stop."

His arms tighten around my back.

"I still need to know you’re safe, Runze. You’re seven months pregnant. You’re going to be moving between meetings and projects, and I won’t stop tracking where you are. But I wanted you to know directly from me instead of finding out later."

He finishes speaking and pulls back just enough to look at my face, his expression rigid as he waits for the impact.

I look at him.

The knot of dread that built up on the way upstairs completely dissolves.

So this is why he rushed me upstairs. This is why he made Mrs. Wen and Ling Yue look at us like the house was on fire, this is why he locked the door, and stood there bracing for an execution.

All over something I already guessed months ago.

It would be a major issue if he were trying to hide it, or if I hadn’t already assumed Liang Feng kept tabs on me. But standing here, watching him wait for an explosion that isn’t coming, the sheer absurdity of the tension hits me.

"Is that everything?" I ask cleanly.

Bael blinks, caught off guard. "...You’re not angry?"

"Liang Feng has been with me since the wedding, Bael," I say quietly. "I knew he kept you updated."

A fraction of the tension leaves his jaw, though he still looks at me carefully. "I... I thought you’d see it as me controlling your movement."

"Only if you used it to block where I went," I tell him. "Did you?"

"No."

"Then I don’t care." I rest my palms flat against his chest, feeling the sharp, steady beat of his heart slowing down beneath my hands. "Honestly, Bael... I’m just glad you told me yourself. You have no idea how much that means to me."

Bael lets out a long, quiet exhale, his posture finally relaxing. The dark tightness in his eyes softens completely, replaced by a quiet, lingering relief as he leans his forehead lightly against mine.

I watch him for a moment, letting the silence settle. If Bael is forcing himself to be entirely transparent with me, I owe him the same.

I step back slightly, unslinging the bag still hanging from my shoulder. Bael’s eyes follow my hands as I unzip it and pull out my notebook.

"Liang Feng sent you location updates today," I say, opening the cover. "Did he tell you why I was at those four buildings?"

Bael’s brows draw together. "He said you were inspecting commercial properties."

"I was." I look up at him. "I’m opening my own firm."

Bael stares at me.

The silence in the bedroom stretches. I can see the moment the realization lands—his mind isn’t just processing today’s schedule, but going all the way back to that morning when he had panicked, asking to build me a studio under the Wuchen Group, and I had looked him in the eye and promised to prove I could handle my own career.

He realizes now that I wasn’t just comforting him.

"Your own firm," Bael repeats softly.

"Yes. Independent."

He stands there, quietly absorbing it. The old instinct to step in, to offer a building or carve out a division inside Wuchen, flares briefly in his posture before settling back down.

"...Not under Wuchen Group?" he asks, his tone trailing off, closer to a quiet question than a statement.

"No," I answer, looking up at him. "I want to face the challenges that come with building it on my own."

Bael looks at me for a long second, his eyes searching mine.

When he finally moves, he steps across the small gap between us and reaches out, his long fingers closing around mine.

"When do you sign the lease?" he asks softly.

"In a few days, after I finish reviewing the terms."

Bael nods once, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. "Then I’ll let you handle it."

He isn’t offering to fix things or take over. He is simply letting me do it.

I step closer, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head against his chest. His arms close around me immediately, holding me firm against him.

For a few quiet minutes, neither of us speaks.

Then—

Knock. Knock.

The sound against the door is sharp, breaking the silence instantly.

Bael doesn’t release me, but his head turns toward the lock. "Yes?"

Mrs. Wen’s voice carries through the door, tight and carefully controlled. "Master Bael, Young Master."

I look up at Bael.

"Grandmother asks that you both come downstairs," Mrs. Wen says from the hallway.

Bael’s brow furrows slightly. "Can it wait until dinner?"

She hesitates for a moment.

"No, sir. She said it concerns the family."

The room goes still. The air downstairs has clearly shifted, but the quiet understanding built between us up here remains untouched.

Bael slowly releases his arms from around me. He turns his head back to me, his dark eyes searching my face one last time to make sure I’m ready.

I give him a reassuring smile, rising slightly on my tiptoes to press a quick, gentle kiss against his cheek.

"Let’s go," I say softly.

The tension in Bael’s face melts into a faint, affectionate look. He reaches down and takes my hand, his fingers weaving firmly through mine.

Together, we turn toward the door.