WMAW Extra 1

On Valentine’s Day, Zhuang Yi, having dyed his hair back to black, finally coaxed Zhong Lin into signing a new marriage agreement, voiding the old prenuptial one.

The new agreement had just three demands for Zhong Lin: one, any issues must be communicated immediately—no sulking allowed, and no going more than three days without speaking to Zhuang Yi. The second rule stipulated that all shopping must be done using Zhuang Yi’s credit card, and the last one prohibited forgetting about her beloved husband even in the event of amnesia. Beyond these, the rest of the three-page document was filled with Zhuang Yi’s self-imposed constraints and declarations of love, phrases that seemed lifted from web novels, overly dramatic and somewhat adolescent in tone.

In the afternoon, they went to see a movie, and in the evening, Zhuang Yi decided to cook dinner himself to show off his skills. The movie featured the curly-haired young star who had previously asked Zhong Lin to compose a song, his cameo was impressively filmed, and Zhong Lin clearly showed his admiration, which did not escape the jealous Zhuang Yi.

Endurance is virtuous, but even a duck has its limits.

The couple went grocery shopping hand in hand, Zhuang Yi loading up on spices according to a list on his phone. He claimed to have bought the secret recipe of Zhong Lin’s favorite fried chicken restaurant at a high price and was eager to replicate it that night.

The dinner went off without a hitch, and Zhong Lin leaned against the counter, patting his stomach as he watched Zhuang Yi wash the dishes. Zhuang Yi’s hair had grown out and was now cut into a stylish mullet. Pei Jue had recently stopped inciting him to dye his hair, likely busy with his new flame, busy romancing the young alpha.

“Wife, I’ll be done soon,” Zhuang Yi said eagerly, fumbling with the dishes before swiftly carrying Zhong Lin off to the bedroom.

“Wife, I think my heat is coming on, I feel awful. I was feeling dizzy just walking, hold me,” Zhuang Yi pleaded.

“Ah? Oh, okay.” Zhong Lin, bundled up in bed, blinked and ran his fingers through Zhuang Yi’s hair, patting his back soothingly but feeling something was off.

How often are alpha heats supposed to be? Why does Zhuang Yi’s heat seem to come so frequently? Didn’t he just finish a heat a few days ago?

The next day, a refreshed and battle-hardened Zhong Jie browsed social media and immediately saw Zhuang Yi’s boastful post. The photo showed Zhuang Yi’s collarbone, with just half of Zhong Lin’s face visible, captioned: “Baby’s tired, fell asleep holding me.”

Damn, this wave of showing off really puts others to shame.