MWITA CH141

Inside the hovercar, the atmosphere was… complicated.

Yin Rong sat in the driver’s seat, while Rong Shi and Song Yu occupied the back.

Song Yu slid a sidelong glance at Rong Shi. From the moment they boarded, every look Rong Shi shot the special aide carried a hint of wariness.

Leaning close, Song Yu whispered into his ear: “He’s my father’s aide. Reliable enough.”

Yin Rong plotted the route, but when he checked the rearview, the first thing he saw was the pair murmuring together—and then, unexpectedly, Rong Shi’s sharp eyes meeting his own.

Sparks filled the air, volatile and ready to ignite.

Yet Rong Shi said nothing. Instead, he turned his head and pressed a kiss to Song Yu’s lips. “Sleep for a while. I’ll wake you when we arrive.”

Song Yu retaliated by biting his lip. “How can I rest with you being this tender?”

Rong Shi’s warning was all ice: “Complain of fatigue tonight, and all entertaining activities this month are canceled.”

That was enough. Song Yu nestled against his shoulder. “Now I feel secure.”

“….” Rong Shi.

When the cat finally dozed off, the car’s temperature dropped to sub‑zero.

At last, Yin Rong ventured in a low voice: “His Highness didn’t sleep last night?”

“…Mm.” Rong Shi’s reply was one syllable.

The awkward silence thickened until Yin Rong asked again: “…You two seem close?”

With his eyes shut, back against the seat, Rong Shi shut him off flatly. “None of your concern.”

“….” Yin Rong. Which ancestor did he inherit this frost from?

---

The car descended to a hotel in Xueyan District.

Rock‑steady calm, Rong Shi studied the snowy vista through the window. In his last life, the military camps had been in Xueba District, far in the south—a “preparatory” area.

Planetary modification took centuries. After stabilizing the artificial atmosphere, mutated flora and fauna had to be cleared generation after generation until threats became negligible. Such zones were marked “wilderness” and barred from settlement; the active clearing zones were “preparatory,” meant to open in three years’ time.

Snow Leopard zone was the south wild. Here in Xueyan District, central continent, lived the thriving citizens.

Shutting the engine, Yin Rong asked politely: “Young Master Rong, shall I book two rooms—”

“No need to speak to me formally,” Rong Shi cut coldly. “One room is enough. I’ll wake him.”

Eyes avoided, Yin Rong slipped out: “…Then I’ll wait in the lobby.”

Inside, Rong Shi lowered his gaze. From here, Song Yu’s lashes looked long and straight. His cat gave off so much warmth—like hugging a living hot‑water bottle.

“Xiao Yu,” he nudged gently. “We’ve arrived.”

Snoring softly, his cat slept like the dead. No shaking woke him.

“….” Too soundly.

“You’re already exhausted from barely anything. If I really put my back into it, you wouldn’t get out of bed at all.”

(From the bed: “…Go ahead. In the end, who really can’t get up?”)

Yes—Song Yu had woken the moment his name was called. But sprawled feigning sleep, he wanted to see what “his bunny” would do. When he felt strong arms slide beneath, lifting him entirely—his lips twitched upward until he realized—

The bastard’s carrying me bridal style?!

“Put me down!” Song Yu opened his eyes, yanking at Rong Shi’s collar.

But Rong Shi strode out of the car, door snapped close behind him. “Don’t move. Being carried by your husband is no shame.”

“What about me carrying you then?”

Rong Shi chuckled lowly, long legs striding. “Stop imagining the impossible. Aren’t you tired? Then stay asleep.”

People were everywhere. Though itching for revenge, Song Yu saw the crowd. He tugged the coat up to cover his flushed face and resigned himself back onto his bunny’s shoulder.

“…Then when you fall asleep tonight, I’ll mark you.”

“Ridiculous. This is no bridal carry. This is clearly a prince’s carry.”

“……” Song Yu: fck.*

---

Inside the lobby, Yin Rong froze as doors opened wide.

Through streams of passersby, a tall figure strode in hugging another man—impossible not to notice.

“Mommy, that big brother is carrying another big brother!” a five‑year‑old omega blurted. “Shy, Mommy—Mommy?” She blinked. Why was her mom suddenly blushing?

Though Rong Shi’s hat brim and mask obscured his features, his raw alpha presence had the woman utterly transfixed, pulse racing. Top‑tier alpha, without a doubt. Overwhelming.

Rong Shi sailed past, face impassive—while the jealous cat in his arms twitched violently.

“…Booked?” Rong Shi asked Yin Rong, calm as ever.

“Yes,” Yin confirmed, repeatedly glancing at the sight of Song Yu “nestled” in his chest.

“…Did he agree?”

“Obviously,” Rong Shi said, with full seriousness. “He can’t sleep if I’m not holding him.”

Song Yu: “……”
Yin Rong: “……”

On the stairs, snowflakes dotted black hair. The gleam stabbed at eyes; Yin’s hand twitched, reaching to brush it off.

But Rong Shi sidestepped instantly, glare cutting.

“I—there was snow,” Yin Rong withdrew casually.

“…I’ll handle it.” Cold.

Then he added, as if justifying: “Xiao Yu doesn’t like anyone touching me. His jealousy is fierce.”

Yin Rong: “……” Never missing a chance to show off.

---

By the time they reached their room, Song Yu was “back asleep” again, still sulky. Yin Rong didn’t linger.

But at the door, Rong Shi stopped him. “Wait. I have questions.”

“…I never agreed to share intelligence.” Yin Rong’s brows sank.

“You deliberately bumped into us.” Rong Shi tucked a quilt securely around his sleeping cat. “You wanted to join us. Without information, we won’t move with you.”

Silent pause. Then Yin Rong turned toward the hall. “…I’ll only answer what I can.”

---

Snow stretched endless in every direction. White, unbroken, no end in sight.

Feet heavy, Song Yu staggered through. He didn’t know where he was going, only that some voice warned—hurry, hurry, or it will be too late.

Cold like a thousand frozen needles pierced skin, bone, and lungs. His limbs went numb. Exhaustion howled at him to stop.

It’s pointless. You’ll never find it. Give up.

But he forced on.

And then—blood. A scarlet stain against snow. His pulse thundered.

Stumbling faster, but no matter how he pushed, the bloodstain never grew closer.

“Blood? Who—whose blood?”

“…Mine.”

A voice cut from behind.

Spinning, Song Yu’s pupils widened.

Five paces back—Rong Shi in ruined battle armor, sodden red. Blood reeked, his lips were pale, and he coughed until more stained his mouth.

Internal bleeding?

Pain, sharp and suffocating, consumed Song Yu.

“Rong Shi!” He lunged, but Rong Shi’s hand lifted, halting him.

“Xiao Yu,” the man rasped with a faint curve of his lips, “seeing you… is enough.”

Enough?! Terror clawed Song Yu’s chest apart. Never had he felt this fear.

“Don’t leave. Don’t you dare leave me!”

He jolted awake, breath harsh, drenched in cold sweat. Only a nightmare.

“Rong Shi?” He searched the room. Empty.

---

Out in the lounge, Rong Shi was talking with Yin Rong.

As the aide rose, he stopped at the door. “You know royals must have heirs. Especially him.”

Rong Shi’s eyes narrowed, cold. “So?”

“A youthful fling means nothing. Don’t gamble both your futures on it. For your own good—”

From inside the room came a crashing sound, and they both turned.

Song Yu stumbled out, paler than before. Barefoot, drenched in sweat.

“You’re shaking—did I leave the temp too high?” Rong Shi caught him instantly.

But the touch told him otherwise. Song Yu was burning.

[01: Temp 37.8℃. Sponsor Daddy’s running a slight fever!]
[00: 37.8℃. Master’s mood dangerously low.]

Ignoring Yin Rong, Song Yu clutched tightly to Rong Shi, burying his face in his neck, inhaling his scent like an anchor.

“You’re not allowed to leave me.”

His bunny stroked damp his hair, murmuring, “A nightmare?”

“Promise me!” Song Yu growled.

“…Fine. I won’t leave.”

Grinding his cheek against warm skin, Song Yu muttered hoarsely: “Then I’ll think of every way… every trick… to keep you dangling, never satisfied.”

“…What?” Rong Shi blinked. Dangling?

---

Author’s Note:

 Rong Bunny: …How exactly do you plan to ‘dangle’ me?
Song Cat: With a rope. Around the rabbit ears. Hang him on the tree outside. [slurp]
Rong Bunny: …Congrats, you’ve invented cured rabbit jerky.

“Your Highness, it has been three days. The Madam is still hanging outside.”