Volume 1, Chapter 32: Not Knowing His Birthday

As these words were spoken, the other three women exchanged knowing, suggestive glances. The little guy had high hopes, but there were no sofas in these resort suites for him to sleep on. Yet, none of them took the initiative to explain this to Fang Mo. Oblivious, he continued to imagine that tonight would be a calm and peaceful evening, perhaps with just a touch of light flirtation. He could never have guessed that a true storm was waiting for him.

Just then, Song Yu, who had just finished checking them in, walked over looking suspicious. "Wow, Fang Mo, you’re only twenty-two? And your birthday is coming up this month, isn't it? How does our CEO Ning plan to celebrate her husband's birthday?"

At this, the others turned their gazes toward Ning Yuelan.

"My birthday... is coming up?" Fang Mo was stunned for a moment, finally snapping back to reality. In all the years he had spent with Lin Xihan, he seemed to have forgotten about his own birthday. Every year, as Lin Xihan’s birthday approached, he was forced by her demands to spend months preparing. He had to book hotels three months in advance and arrange various floral displays and grand gestures. Just the effort of running around for her had drained almost all of his living expenses; he had no heart left to consider his own birthday.

"Why is our CEO silent? Good grief, Ning Yuelan, you don't actually not know when your husband's birthday is, do you?" Seeing Ning Yuelan remain silent for so long, Song Yu asked in astonishment. Wu Jiabei and Zheng Ronghe also turned to look at her.

The once cold and haughty face of Ning Yuelan suddenly flushed with embarrassment. She said nothing, but her eyes, filled with guilt, remained fixed on Fang Mo as she reached out to gently squeeze his hand.

Wu Jiabei, who had been incredibly envious of Ning Yuelan’s constant displays of affection since they received their marriage certificate, finally seized the opportunity and let out a cold snort. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Isn't our CEO a bit too careless? You don't even know your new husband's birthday? And you claim you’ve been secretly in love with him for..."

Before she could finish, Ning Yuelan caught the keyword "secretly in love." Startled, she quickly gave Wu Jiabei a sharp kick. She hadn't intended to tell Fang Mo about that part yet. She wanted to wait until after their grand wedding to slowly reveal it to him! That bold woman Wu Jiabei had nearly spilled all her secrets.

"Sister Yuelan, what's wrong? Why are you suddenly sweating?" Fang Mo looked at her with concern. He rarely saw Ning Yuelan lose her composure like this. She was, after all, the ice-cold CEO who stood by her word and rarely wore her emotions on her face.

Ning Yuelan coughed. "Oh, it's nothing. The first floor of this resort is just a bit stuffy."

Wu Jiabei, still oblivious to the fact that she had nearly said the wrong thing, grumbled, "What's the matter? Our great CEO, who flaunts her love every day, doesn't even know her husband's birthday, and now you're taking your anger out on an innocent bystander like me? Brother Fang Mo, I’m not trying to stir up trouble, but if this were me, I couldn't let it slide. Brother Fang Mo is already yours, and you don't even know his birthday? Is that right?"

Ning Yuelan frowned. Song Yu expected her to retort, but instead, Ning Yuelan nodded earnestly. "Yes, it is indeed my oversight. I had a bit to drink when we registered, and I didn't pay attention to the date on my husband's ID. Fang Mo, let's go."

With that, Ning Yuelan took Fang Mo by the hand and led him away. The three women were left stunned. Weren't they here for the hot springs? Why were they suddenly leaving?

"Hey, where are you going?"

Ning Yuelan didn't look back, her cool, clear voice drifting behind her: "To make it up to our boy!"

***

"Sister Yuelan, are we just leaving like this?" Fang Mo asked, still confused as he was dragged out of the resort. "What about them? Didn't we come here together? Are we just going to abandon them?"

He was still bewildered. They had driven for several hours to get here; why was she leaving so abruptly? But as soon as they were away from the crowd, Ning Yuelan suddenly turned, her eyes reddening as she pulled Fang Mo into an embrace.

"I'm sorry."

The sudden softness and fragrance left Fang Mo dazed, but he was even more struck by her apology. What was wrong with her?

"Sister Yuelan... why are you apologizing?"

Ning Yuelan bit her lip. She had been watching the little guy grow up from the shadows of a past she hadn't been a part of, yet she had just realized she had forgotten his birthday. It wasn't that she didn't know—she had simply forgotten. Perhaps it was because, with their happiness so close at hand, she had finally obtained the man she had pined for for thirteen years. Now that she could finally be with him legitimately, she had somehow focused less on him. His past birthdays were his own life, unrelated to her. But now that she finally had the qualification to celebrate with him, she had failed.

"From now on, I will spend every one of your birthdays with you, okay?" She had previously only dared to watch him from the dark, afraid that her sudden intrusion would shatter his peace. But things were different now; she had the right.

"Okay, sure!" Fang Mo stammered.

Ning Yuelan smiled brightly. "Since your birthday is coming up, let me give you a gift."

"Huh?" Before Fang Mo could react, she pulled him into the car. "Do you like cars? How about I buy you a Lamborghini?"

Why was she gifting him cars again!

"Stop it, Sister Yuelan. Actually, I don't know your birthday either. And haven't we just started trying to live as husband and wife? If you really want to give me a gift, then I hope the gift is..." Fang Mo paused, looking at her shyly, "...that you keep liking me. Just as you don't want a second marriage, I don't want one either."

His voice grew quieter as he spoke, but the car was so silent that even the hum of a mosquito would have been audible. As soon as he finished, Fang Mo felt his lips blocked. A passionate Ning Yuelan had kissed him directly.

She didn't close her beautiful eyes as she had before, but kept them open. Face to face, their eyes met, and Fang Mo could see a deep, profound affection in the depths of hers. For a moment, he felt a sense of trance. Her love for him seemed to have been aged by time, heavy and rich, like an arrow that had traveled from youth to maturity, possessing the sweetness and depth of well-aged wine.

"Remember to breathe," she whispered, then extended her tongue, her arms wrapping around his neck instinctively.

***

"Brother Shen!"

"Hmm!"

Shen Changqing walked down the road, greeting those he knew with a nod. But regardless of who they were, no one had any extra expression on their face, as if they were indifferent to everything. To this, Shen Changqing was already accustomed.

This was the Demon Suppression Division, an institution tasked with maintaining the stability of the Great Qin Empire. Its primary duty was to slay demons and monsters, though it had other side responsibilities. It could be said that everyone in the Demon Suppression Division had blood on their hands. When one becomes accustomed to life and death, one becomes indifferent to many things.

When he first arrived in this world, Shen Changqing hadn't adapted well, but over time, he had grown used to it. The Division was vast, and those who remained were either powerful experts or possessed the potential to become one. Shen Changqing belonged to the latter.

There were two main roles in the Division: Demon Suppressors and Demon Slayers. Everyone started as a low-level Demon Slayer and worked their way up, hoping to eventually become a Demon Suppressor. Shen Changqing's predecessor had been a trainee Demon Slayer, the lowest rank of all. With his predecessor's memories, he was very familiar with the environment.

Before long, Shen Changqing stopped in front of a pavilion. Unlike the rest of the Division, which was filled with a murderous atmosphere, this pavilion stood out, offering a different kind of tranquility amidst the blood-soaked surroundings. The doors were open, and people occasionally came and went. Shen Changqing hesitated only for a moment before stepping inside.

The atmosphere changed instantly. The scent of ink mixed with a faint trace of blood hit him, causing his brow to furrow instinctively, though he quickly smoothed it out. The scent of blood on everyone in the Division was almost impossible to wash away.