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

*Runze’s POV*

After everything that happened this morning—the news of Wuchen Ming’s arrest, Bael telling me Feifei wanted to see me—the estate settles into an unusual calm.

My fingers drift to the necklace again.

The small pear-shaped diamond rests lightly against my collarbone, cool beneath my fingertips. I trace its smooth edges absentmindedly before catching myself.

...Again.

A faint warmth creeps into my ears.

I lower my hand onto my lap, forcing my arms to stay still.

Not even five seconds later, my fingers find the pendant once more.

”...”

I really need to stop doing that.

Except... I can’t.

Every time I touch it, yesterday comes rushing back.

*”I love you.”*

The words replay so vividly that I can almost hear Bael’s voice again... quiet, steady, impossibly sincere.

My face heats instantly.

He said it. He said it, and he meant it, and till now, I still catch myself at odd moments not quite believing it.

Bael has always done these things. The glass of water before I even realize I’m thirsty, the hand steady against my back when we walk, the way he watches me when he thinks I’m looking elsewhere, with an intensity so focused it used to make my breath catch.

I noticed all of it.

But back then, I built entire internal arguments around his actions: *this is just how he is, this is proximity, this is habit, he is attentive because he is responsible, and he’s responsible because I’m carrying his child, it doesn’t mean anything specific.*

Except now he has said the words.

Now I have no arguments left.

So Bael Wuchen, who holds board meetings with the energy of someone who has already decided the outcome, who has never once in my memory looked uncertain about anything... he is in love with me.

He told me. He cupped my face and said those three words like they were simply a fact, the way gravity is a fact. It wasn’t a confession so much as a correction of the record.

The corners of my lips lift before I can stop them.

No. Don’t smile.

I press my lips together immediately, trying to flatten them. It lasts exactly three seconds, then another smile slips out anyway.

I let out the smallest sigh imaginable.

This is embarrassing.

Across the sitting room, neither maid says a word. One stands quietly beside the window, the other waits near the tea table with perfect posture, hands folded neatly before her.

Ever since I returned from the hospital three days ago, someone has been assigned to stay with me at all times whenever Bael or Mrs. Wen isn’t nearby.

Apparently, I am no longer trusted to exist on my own.

I glance toward them. Both women maintain perfectly straight faces. They’re definitely pretending they haven’t watched me touch the necklace six times already.

...Maybe seven.

One of them steps forward silently, replacing the warm tea in front of me with a freshly brewed cup.

”Young Master, your tea.”

”Thank you.”

She bows slightly before returning to her original position.

The room falls quiet again. I look down into the amber liquid, watching the small leaves settle at the bottom of the porcelain cup.

Everything still feels... strange. Not bad, just completely surreal.

Yesterday keeps replaying in fragments. Bael holding me, Bael apologizing, Bael confessing, Bael putting this necklace around my neck.

Every memory feels so vivid that I almost wonder—did that actually happen? Or did I imagine it all while I was still unconscious in that hospital bed?

It just seems too impossible to wrap my head around.

Bael likes me? No. Not that he likes me. He loves me.

The thought alone sends another wave of heat rushing into my face. I quickly lift my teacup to hide behind it, taking a slow sip.

Ridiculous. I’m blushing just thinking about it. If Mrs. Wen sees me like this, she’ll probably assume my fever came back and call the doctor immediately.

A soft knock interrupts my thoughts.

The maid standing by the tea table immediately moves toward the doorway. She opens it, murmuring quietly to whoever is standing on the other side, before closing it and turning back to face me.

”Young Master.”

I look up from my cup. ”Yes?”

”One of the kitchen staff just came up,” she says politely. ”Master Wuchen has requested that we escort you to the west garden terrace.”

I blink, setting the porcelain cup back down on its saucer with a tiny click. ”The west garden?”

”Yes, Young Master.”

”What for?”

”He didn’t specify,” she answers smoothly, stepping forward to assist me. ”He only asked that we bring you down once you were ready.”

Of course he didn’t specify. I let out a breath that is half a sigh and half a smile, carefully standing up from the sofa.

The two maids move almost immediately. One picks up the light cardigan Mrs. Wen insisted I wear whenever there was even the slightest breeze outside. The other quietly reaches for my phone resting on the side table.

”...I can carry it,” I say, reaching out.

She smiles politely, stepping back just enough to keep it out of reach. ”Master Wuchen instructed us not to let the Young Master carry unnecessary things.”

”...”

Unnecessary things? It’s a phone.

I decide not to argue. There’s no point.

Ever since yesterday, Bael has somehow become even more impossible than before.

***

They lead me across the estate at an unhurried, cautious pace, making sure I don’t trip or walk too fast. The afternoon sun has already softened, painting long shadows across the stone pathways.

When we finally stop before the west garden terrace, one of the maids steps forward and opens the double doors.

I stop walking.

Lanterns hang overhead, already glowing softly despite the lingering daylight. Fresh flowers decorate the center of a small round table dressed in ivory linen. Dinner has already been arranged—each dish covered neatly with silver lids to preserve its warmth.

There isn’t a single extravagant decoration. It’s nothing excessive or loud, just... comfortable. Beautiful. Thoughtful.

Bael looks up from where he’s standing beside the table.

Instead of his usual stiff suit, he is in a dark, simple sweater that fits him perfectly. Without his formal layers, the casual look only draws more attention to the broad frame of his shoulders and the sharp, clean lines of his jaw. He looks effortless, completely relaxed, and entirely striking.

He doesn’t say anything dramatic, he simply walks over, pulls my chair out, and waits.

”...Sit.”

Still trying to process what I’m looking at, I obey and slide into the seat. I notice a thick, soft cushion has been placed on the chair—something that definitely wasn’t part of the original outdoor furniture.

Bael must have ordered it.

Only after making sure I’m comfortably settled does Bael take the chair opposite mine.

I look around once more, taking in the warm amber glow of the lanterns against the darkening blue sky. Then I look back at him.

”...What’s all this?”

For the first time since I arrived, something almost resembling embarrassment crosses his face. His jaw tightens slightly, and he clears his throat very lightly.

”I heard people call this...” He hesitates, his gray eyes glancing to the side for a brief second before locking back onto mine. ”...a date.”

I stare at him, my lips parting slightly.

”...Who told you?”

Bael answers without the slightest hesitation, his face entirely serious.

”...The internet.”