Chapter 7. Written in the Stars

The second we stepped inside the house and closed the door behind us, I was “handled” for round two before I even had the chance to kick off my shoes. A relentless streak of punishment extended all the way from the entryway straight into the living room. Suffice it to say, Professor Fu was exceptionally… diligent tonight.

The next morning, I was jarred awake by the frantic ringing of my phone. Diep Tu was screaming on the other end: “Tang Yu! Get online right now! You’re famous!”

Drowsily, I opened Weibo. Sitting squarely at the top of the Hot Search list was: #ProfessorFu_ExtremeLove

Clicking on it, I instantly snapped wide awake. It was a candid photo snapped in the hallway at last night’s gala. The angle was stunning, bathed in dim, ethereal lighting: me on tiptoes, him leaning down in a deep, desperate kiss, it looked like a poster straight out of an A-list blockbuster. The second photo captured him pinning me against the wall, his eyes so intensely dark he looked ready to devour me alive.

The comment section had completely blown up:
– “A restrained professor? Whoever spread that rumor step forward right now, because I ain’t buying it!”
– “Look at that gaze! I would willingly let him devour me!”
– “His wife is drop-dead gorgeous! Her aura is incredible!”

While I was still reeling, wondering who the sneaky culprit behind the camera was, Fu Yanli wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “What are you looking at?”

I held up my phone. “We’re trending on Hot Search! How are you so calm?”

“It’s a great photo.” He casually took his own phone, logged into Weibo, and reposted the thread with a single caption:

My wife @TangYu. The girl I fell in love with at first sight, and spent ten years secretly loving before I finally married her. I won’t allow even a single glance from anyone else.

Having posted it, he tossed his phone aside and turned me around in his arms. His eyes began to darken with that familiar, dangerous glint once again:

“Stop paying attention to social media. We have far more important business to attend to.”

“Like what?”

“Turning yesterday’s ‘Hot Search’ into… next year’s ‘good news.'”

He leaned down, sealing my lips in a fierce, passionate kiss. As it turned out, behind those gold-rimmed glasses and dry academic theories, Fu Yanli was simply a hopelessly infatuated man, willingly surrendering himself to a lifetime with no escape for the sake of one woman.

—

Fu Yanli’s Weibo post was an absolute time bomb, and once it went off, it completely wiped out every social media leaderboard in existence. His account, which had previously hovered around a modest few thousand followers, skyrocketed overnight.

The phrases “love at first sight” and “ten years of secret longing” triggered a collective meltdown across every female user on the internet. The comment section exploded like New Year’s fireworks:
– “HOLY SHIT! Is this the real-life version of My Sunshine?!”
– “Ten years of secret love? Is this a romance novel or a legendary myth?!”
– “‘Won’t allow even a single glance from anyone else’—hello, domineering CEO!”
– “@TangYu, did you save the entire galaxy in your past life?”

My own Weibo was mercilessly raided. Some users were filled with admiration, others green with envy, while plenty passionately begged for my secret to keeping a husband so whipped. I looked at the mountain of comments, caught between laughter and tears. A secret? Sorry to break it to you, but I’m the one who gets held completely in the palm of his hand!

Diep Tu called me, her voice buzzing with the excitement of someone who’d just hit the jackpot:

“Tang Yu! Get online right now! Someone’s already writing a novel based on you two called The Obsessive Love of the Restrained Professor!”

Me: “…” Logic has officially left the building.

Yet looking at Fu Yanli’s “claim of ownership” post pinned right at the top of his page, my heart felt as sweet as dripping honey. This man was usually quiet and reserved, but once he decided to move, he went straight for a global public broadcast.

—

That evening, after taking a shower, I lay stomach-down on the bed lazily scrolling through my phone. Fu Yanli stepped out of the bathroom with only a towel low on his hips, his eight-pack abs greeting me with obnoxious enthusiasm.

Drying his hair, he glanced at me with a slight frown. “Still scrolling?”

“Mm-hmm…”

Without a second word, he snatched the phone straight out of my hand. “No more looking.”

“Why?”

Leaning down, his deep, magnetic voice rasped right against my ear: “Are the fan arts they draw… anywhere near as handsome as the real man standing right in front of you?”

Here we go again. His narcissistic streak was truly beyond saving. Laughing, I tried to push him away. “Back off, you’re covered in steam.”

He didn’t budge. Instead, taking advantage of the moment, he pressed down, trapping me entirely within his arms. “Tang Yu, let’s have a serious talk.”

I instantly went on high alert. Bitter experience had taught me that “serious talk” was just a euphemism for “settling scores.”

“About what?”

“About before…” He paused, his voice softening into a lower register. “About when you wanted to leave me.”

A real “settling of scores” indeed. Avoiding his gaze, I murmured, “That’s in the past…”

“It’s not in the past.” He pointed a finger at the left side of his chest, putting on a pitiful expression like an abandoned Golden Retriever. “Every time I think about it… it still hurts right here.”

I knew full well he was acting, but my heart softened anyway against my control. “Fine, it was my fault. I didn’t know you loved me that much back then.”

“Do you know now?”

“I know.”

“Do you know you were wrong?”

“Yes, I know…”

A faint smile touched his lips, a dangerous spark flashing in his dark eyes. “Since you know you were wrong… shouldn’t you be punished?”

I froze. I knew it! The word “serious” and Fu Yanli were separated by eight lifetimes.

He produced a fountain pen, the expensive one sitting on his desk. The cool metal nib traced slow, agonizing circles across my back, carving out delicate, illicit paths:

“Don’t you love roleplay? Today, I’ll be the professor, and you’ll be the disobedient student. Professor is going to… teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”

—

Proof positive: I was still far too naive. I had thought that once we cleared the air, our life would switch to “24/7 domestic bliss.” Who knew… this man was a lunatic straight down to his bones. The only difference was that before, he tortured himself, whereas now, he redirected all that energy into “torturing” me.

Case in point: using lipstick to leave “claims of ownership” all over my body (footnote: strictly for his eyes only).

Or the time I was out shopping with Diep Tu, and he suddenly showed up out of nowhere, scooped me over his shoulder, and carried me straight back to the car simply because: “Your dress is unacceptably short.”

Diep Tu summed it up best: “You didn’t get a husband, you adopted a second dad.”

Thinking about it… she wasn’t wrong. But I was entirely, willingly complicit. Because I knew that behind every single action was a love so deep it reached his very bones—a love so intense it couldn’t be contained.

—

Today marked our fourth wedding anniversary. Fu Yanli said he wanted to take me somewhere special. He blindfolded me and drove far away from the noisy city. When the blindfold was finally removed, a massive glass greenhouse stood before me, overflowing with vibrant, breathtaking flowers of every imaginable hue.

Right in the center of the conservatory stood a large easel. Resting on it was an oil painting of me in a wedding gown, standing in a sea of blossoms, smiling as radiantly as the sun.

“This is…” I gasped, utterly stunned.

Fu Yanli wrapped his arms around me from behind, his breath warm against my ear. “Our wedding was too rushed back then. I owed you a proper set of wedding photos. Tang Yu… I’m sorry for making you wait so long.”

Tears spilled over my lashes, uncontrollable. Not out of resentment, but because I was finally being loved in the most complete, tender way possible. Turning around, I buried my face in his chest and cried like a child. “Fu Yanli, you absolute bastard…”

“Yes, I’m a bastard,” he coaxed me with practiced gentleness. “I’m sorry for breaking your heart these past three years.”

I looked up, my eyes red-rimmed. “Then how do you plan to make it up to me?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he slowly dropped to one knee, producing an elegant velvet box. Inside, a diamond ring sparkled brilliantly beneath the sunlight. His gaze was more earnest and sincere than it had ever been:

“Little Tang Yu, even though we’ve been married for four years, I still want to propose to you one more time. Will you… stay by my side for the rest of our lives?”

Tears and laughter mingled on my face as I nodded frantically. “I do!”

Because there was one thing he didn’t know: during those ten years he spent secretly loving me, I had fallen for him a very long time ago, too. That cool, gentle boy from when I was eighteen… I had never forgotten him, either.

Our love was never one-sided, nor was it built on misunderstandings. We were simply two souls lost on a long detour, only for fate to guide us right back to where we belonged.

— THE END —