[BL] Oops! I Seduced My Sister's Fiance (And Now I'm Pregnant)

Chapter 70: Chapter 70: Compartments

*Bael’s POV*

The office is quiet at this hour.

Saturday evening, most of the building empty except for security and the occasional cleaning staff. Bael prefers working weekends when he can focus without interruptions, without people knocking on his door every twenty minutes with problems they should be solving themselves.

He reviews the acquisition proposal in front of him, pen moving across the margins to mark sections that need revision before Monday’s board meeting.

His phone buzzes.

Liang Feng: *Young Master arrived at the venue. No issues.*

Bael glances at the time.

6:47 PM.

The gala.

He’d told Runze to get a car for it the previous week, made sure he had appropriate security, ensured everything was arranged. Spouse networking events are part of the role, and Runze needs to establish his position in those circles properly.

Bael had never considered going himself. Those functions are designed for omegas, for building the kind of social connections that happen over champagne and carefully orchestrated small talk. His presence would serve no purpose beyond making Runze’s navigation of the room more complicated.

Better to let him handle it independently, build his own relationships without Bael hovering.

He sets the phone aside and returns to the proposal.

The work is straightforward, the kind of task that requires attention but not significant mental energy, which leaves his mind free to drift.

To the past week.

Things have settled back to normal, the way they’re supposed to be.

Those few days after the hospital visit had been necessary...Runze recovering, Bael making sure he followed Dr. Xi’s instructions, basic oversight to ensure the pregnancy wasn’t jeopardized by carelessness.

But Runze had recovered, and life resumed its proper rhythm.

Bael working his normal hours, coming home to handle whatever household matters needed attention, maintaining the structure that keeps everything running smoothly.

Simple and efficient.

The ”don’t come to my office” instruction on Monday had been practical. The last time Runze showed up unannounced, it created unnecessary complications with Xue Lian present, making the situation more awkward than it needed to be.

Better to establish clear boundaries now.

Runze has his responsibilities—the pregnancy, social obligations, representing the family appropriately.

Bael has his—running the company, securing the inheritance, managing the various moving pieces that keep the Wuchen empire functioning.

Clean separation prevents problems.

Though Runze has been... off this week.

Subtly sulking, if Bael had to name it.

Eating breakfast alone, going to bed early, avoiding spaces where they might cross paths. The kind of quiet withdrawal that’s obvious if you’re paying attention.

Bael noticed.

He just doesn’t particularly care.

Runze will adjust. He always does. A few days of distance and he’ll settle back into understanding what this arrangement actually is.

No reason to address it directly.

He signs off on a section of the proposal and moves to the next page.

His mind shifts to Xue Lian.

The punishment has been sufficient.

Bael had wondered, initially, how long it would take. How long before Xue Lian realized that Bael wasn’t bluffing, that the marriage wasn’t just a temporary inconvenience that could be waited out.

Turns out, not very long at all.

The moment Xue Lian returned from abroad and saw Runze...saw who Bael had actually married instead of the Li daughter...everything clicked into place exactly as Bael had planned.

Feifei would never have worked as a threat.

Pleasant enough, perfectly appropriate for a business arrangement, but not Bael’s type. Xue Lian would have seen right through it, would have known Bael could spend five years in a marriage of complete convenience and walk away without a second thought.

But Runze.

Runze is different.

Physically, aesthetically, exactly the type that Xue Lian knows Bael notices. Lean build, sharp features, that particular combination of delicate bone structure and underlying strength that’s always appealed to him.

More importantly, Runze isn’t clingy.

He doesn’t hover, doesn’t demand constant attention, doesn’t try to insert himself into every aspect of Bael’s life expecting emotional reciprocation.

Independent enough to be interesting.

Xue Lian would recognize that immediately.

Would see Runze and realize this wasn’t just a business transaction anymore, that Bael had married someone who actually fit his preferences, someone who could feasibly become more than a contractual obligation if given enough time.

That’s what made it effective, that’s what brought Xue Lian running back.

And it had worked perfectly.

Xue Lian returning early, making time in his schedule, showing up at the office, testing boundaries to see if the space still existed.

All the effort Bael had spent years waiting to see, finally materializing because Xue Lian was threatened.

Because for the first time, Xue Lian wasn’t completely confident that Bael would wait forever.

The irony isn’t lost on Bael.

He’d chosen Xue Lian originally precisely because neither of them wanted marriage. Both satisfied with a relationship that didn’t demand traditional commitment, both comfortable with independence and space and the understanding that emotions didn’t need to be performed or declared to be real.

It had been perfect.

Until his father died and the will changed everything.

Marriage and an heir before thirty, or the company goes to Uncle Ming.

Bael had asked Xue Lian to come back then, two years ago when the will was read. It made sense—marry someone who already understood him, who wouldn’t expect things Bael had no intention of providing, who could coexist in the same space without making it suffocating.

But Xue Lian had wanted more time.

Needed to finish his program abroad, wasn’t ready to return yet, asked Bael to wait just a little longer.

Bael had agreed, had waited, had started making alternative plans when Grandmother proposed the Li family merger, thinking perhaps Xue Lian would hear about the engagement and reconsider his timeline.

But Xue Lian hadn’t.

He had actually encouraged it.

*Go ahead with the merger. Marry the Li daughter if you need to. You can divorce in five years when I’m ready, and you’ll have secured the inheritance by then. Simple.*

Logical, practical, exactly the kind of pragmatic thinking that made their relationship work.

And it had infuriated Bael in a way he hadn’t entirely expected.

Not because Xue Lian was wrong, the plan made perfect sense.

But because Xue Lian wasn’t even slightly threatened by it.

He was so completely confident that Bael wouldn’t develop feelings for anyone else, wouldn’t find the marriage anything other than a temporary inconvenience to be managed and dissolved.

So certain that he knew exactly how Bael operated, that he could predict every move, that there was no risk of losing him.

Bael had wanted to prove him wrong.

Had wanted Xue Lian to feel uncertain for once, to wonder if maybe he’d miscalculated, if maybe taking Bael’s patience for granted had consequences.

When Runze got pregnant instead of Feifei, it had been perfect.

An actual heir, and Runze himself... exactly the type that would make Xue Lian nervous.

Bael had leaned into it deliberately.

Backed Runze publicly, let him interrupt the office lunch, allowed the territorial displays that made it clear this wasn’t just a business arrangement anymore.

Let Xue Lian see Runze wearing his shirt, sitting in his office, occupying space in Bael’s life in ways that looked comfortable and established.

The punishment had been watching Xue Lian scramble.

Watching him realize he’d miscalculated, that telling Bael to marry someone else and wait five years might have actually backfired.

Watching him return early and start fighting for something he’d assumed was guaranteed.

And Bael had let it play out.

Had let Xue Lian chase, had made him work for it, had enjoyed watching someone who’d been so confident suddenly have to prove himself.

But the point has been made now.

Xue Lian understands what he walked away from, understands that Bael won’t simply wait indefinitely while he figures out his timeline.

The lesson is learned.

No need to drag it out further.

Bael can let him back in now.

Gradually, carefully, making sure Xue Lian understands the terms have changed slightly, that he doesn’t get to dictate the pace anymore.

But yes, eventually, back to what they had.

What they were always supposed to have.

The marriage to Runze serves its purpose—heir secured, inheritance protected, Uncle Ming’s threat neutralized.

But Xue Lian is what Bael actually wants.

The relationship that doesn’t demand performance, doesn’t require constant emotional labor, exists comfortably without needing to be anything more than what it is.

Both can coexist.

Runze in his role, Xue Lian in his.

Clean compartments, no conflict.

As long as Runze doesn’t complicate things.

Which brings him back to the problem.

Runze is becoming trouble.

Bael isn’t entirely sure when it started, but he’s noticed it building. The way Runze looks at him sometimes when he thinks Bael isn’t paying attention. The way he leaned into the care after the hospital visit like it meant something beyond basic responsibility. The way he’d curled against Bael’s chest that night and stayed there like he belonged.

Getting attached.

Starting to read meaning into gestures that are practical, not personal.

Confusing duty with affection.

That’s the complication Bael needs to manage before it becomes a real problem.

Before Runze gets ideas that interfere with the clean separation Bael has planned.

The distance this week should help.

Should remind Runze what this arrangement actually is, reset expectations before they drift too far into territory that doesn’t serve either of them.

Runze is smart.

He’ll figure it out.

He’ll settle into his role properly once the boundaries are clear again, once he stops projecting emotional significance onto practical actions.

Everything will slot back into place.