This being belonged to him.
And if the world wanted to tear them apart, Dong Yingming would burn it all down before letting that happen.
Chang Xiao gripped the steering wheel like his life depended on it—and, to some degree, it did. With both the boss and his delicate lover in the backseat, every turn felt like a high-stakes operation. The silence was suffocating, save for the quiet hum of the car. He barely breathed the whole drive.
Finally, the sleek black reinforced car rolled to a gentle, perfectly balanced stop just beyond the iron gates of First Prison, glinting under the late morning sun.
Only when they came to a smooth, complete stop did Chang Xiao feel his soul return to his body. He exhaled sharply, hands still trembling.
He hadn't realized how tightly he'd been holding his breath the entire ride until now. Hands still white-knuckled around the wheel, he slumped slightly, a groan of sheer relief escaping his lips.
He survived.
Behind him, Yao Ziyang gave a soft chuckle.
"That was the smoothest ride of my life!"
The boss's lover chirped playfully from the backseat, clearly amused by something.
"Are you always this serious behind the wheel, Officer Chang? Was the drive that intense?"
He said, voice light and teasing.
Chang Xiao turned his head slowly to glance at the dazzling man, eyes hollow with a kind of long-suffering.
"If I had hit a single bump, I'd have lost my kneecaps."
Yao Ziyang tilted his head, confused.
"Why would you—"
He turned just in time to catch the narrowed eyes of Dong Yingming, who was glaring at Chang Xiao with an expression that said, don't speak anymore.
"Oh…"
Yao Ziyang muttered, realization dawning. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he added:
"I see now. That's fair."
Chang Xiao turned and shot him a look—equal parts exasperated and resigned.
Dong Yingming was already unbuckling when he gave a sharp sideways glance at Chang Xiao—cold, flat, dangerous. His handsome, tanned face didn't move an inch, but his eyes said everything. Chang Xiao rolled his eyes with a muttered curse under his breath and opened the door.
"I need a smoke."
The boss didn't say a word, but his cold blue eyes stayed locked with Chang Xiao's even switching to glare at him through the rearview mirror. The message was clear: Speak like that again and your done.
Chang Xiao shuddered and looked away first, muttering something unintelligible under his breath. He stepped out of the car, needing fresh air like a drowning man needed the surface and a smoke. And maybe a moment to check the notification he'd ignored earlier—Warden Liu had sent a voice message while they were still on the road.
As he fished for his lighter, the boss opened his own door and stepped out. But as soon as he glanced around the courtyard, his expression darkened. From here, anyone loitering around the yard—or stationed in the watchtowers—had a perfect view of the car. Which meant they'd also have a perfect view of his man.
His.
He paused.
His jaw tensed.
No one else needed to be looking.
'No. No one's laying eyes on him. No one else had the right.'
With single-minded purpose, he strode to pop open the trunk and pulled out a soft white blanket—one Chang Xiao had packed just in case—and circled to the passenger side. As he opened the passenger-side rear door, the warm scent of his lover drifted out, making his chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with pain.
Yao Ziyang looked up at him, expecting to be lifted, but instead found Dong Yingming reaching over his head and carefully draping the blanket over him.
"Eh?"
Yao Ziyang blinked at him curiously from under the fabric, then caught sight of his reflection in the car window. He looked like he was wearing a delicate white veil.
"Brother Dong…"
He had draped the blanket carefully over the Omega's head and shoulders, obscuring his features from view. It made him look like a strange, elegant bride—head veiled in soft white, the fabric catching in the breeze. The boss paused to admire the effect and smiled, pleased with himself.
"You look good."
He said in a low voice.
"You're hiding me?"
The Omega asked with a giggle, his black eyes peeking out from beneath the blanket.
"I'm protecting you."
The boss corrected. Then, without warning, he slipped his arms under the Omega bride and lifted him effortlessly from the seat—his strong arms cradling him in a perfect princess carry.
The man let out a surprised laugh.
"What is this, our wedding day? You're really carrying me over the threshold?"
Dong Yingming's lip twitched.
'He called it "our wedding day."'
The boss smirked, pride swelling in his chest.
"We might as well have…"
He said quietly, low enough that only the Omega could hear. His voice was rough with emotion, almost possessive.
His man was featherlight in his arms, nestled perfectly against his chest. The soft white veil swayed slightly in the breeze, making Yao Ziyang glow like something holy. The boss's blue eyes softened—only for him.
"You're already mine."
The Omega's heart skipped, but he said nothing—just smiled under his makeshift veil and tucked himself further against the boss's chest as they crossed past the courtyard fencing.
From the other side of the parked car, Chang Xiao lit his cigarette with a tired sigh. He looked up just in time to see the boss sweeping past with the dazzling man in his arms, blanketed like a bride.
'Like a groom with his bride...'
Chang Xiao thought with disbelief. Then:
'No—like a war god claiming his queen.'
"…God help anyone who stares too long."
Chang Xiao muttered, shaking his head. He leaned against the car, cigarette dangling between his lips as he watched the surreal procession unfold before him. Then, finally, he opened the voice message from Warden Liu.
Dong Yingming, the most dangerous man in First Prison—and possibly the entire province—strode past the courtyard fence like a conquering king. In his arms, dressed in light colors and wrapped in a white blanket like a wedding veil, was the pale, delicate figure of Yao Ziyang. The Omega's arms rested loosely around the boss's neck, his eyes half-lidded with amusement and ease, completely unbothered by the spectacle they were making.
The guards stationed at the perimeter reacted immediately. As if sensing the shift in the air, they bowed low—hands stiff at their sides, heads tucked, eyes locked to the ground. None dared to lift their gaze even as the pair fully passed by.
Not a single man dared raise his gaze—not even when the soft blanket shifted with the breeze, not even to steal a glance at this mysterious "bride" in the Underworld Boss's arms. Their fear of Dong Yingming was absolute.
Inside the courtyard, the inmates had been loitering—some stretching their legs, others playing cards or walking laps. But the moment Dong Yingming appeared, flanked by shadows and walking with purpose, the atmosphere changed like the air before a storm. Recognition flashed in their eyes—panic quickly following. Without a word, they turned tail and backed away from the fence, pulling with them a cluster of younger, newer inmates who had been watching the car out of idle curiosity and dragging them away.
"Don't look!"
One old-timer hissed, yanking a wide-eyed young inmate back by the collar.
"Who—?"
"That's Dong Yingming,"
The older one snapped, voice low.
"You so much as blink in his direction and he'll find a reason to make you disappear. And if you ever see that man with someone? Don't ask questions. Don't stare. Just go the other way."
"What—"
"Don't look!"
Another of the older inmates hissed again, harshly yanking a clueless recruit back further away.
"If he sees you staring at his man, you're dead. You'll die before lights out."
"His man?"
Another whispered.
"Yeah. And you don't touch anything he's touched. Not food. Not bedding. Not even a spoon he's used. You want to breathe past tomorrow, forget that face. Forget that name."
One brave idiot dared to mutter:
"He's just carrying someone. Ain't that too much hype—"
"You ever seen him carry anyone before?"
The seasoned inmate barked under his breath.
"Exactly."
And just like that, even the murmurs stopped. Silence and reverence swallowed the courtyard. Within seconds, the yard was cleared like a ghost town, the very presence of Dong Yingming enough to silence laughter, arguments, and movement. Only the sound of his shoes against concrete, and the gentle rustle of the blanket, remained.
Dong Yingming strode confidently into the prison interior, Yao Ziyang held close to his chest like something both sacred and dangerous. The white veil fluttered slightly as they crossed the threshold. Then the great metal door slammed shut behind them.
Only then did the guards on the upper tier finally exhale.
Back in the courtyard, Chang Xiao took another puff of his cigarette, watching the trail of respect and terror left in Dong Yingming's wake.
"Damn…"
He murmured.
"Looks like we're having a wedding and a funeral on the same day."
He chuckled to himself—dryly—and finally remembered the voicemail still playing on his phone. He raised it to his ear, listened to Warden Liu's cool, oily voice:
"—Miao Ruiming has officially been approved as on-site medical staff for prisoner Yao Ziyang. His application is sealed, clean, and will pass any audit. He'll be allowed to visit and monitor Yao Ziyang's health on a scheduled basis. He's to be briefed on protocol by end of day. That's all."
Chang Xiao froze mid-drag.
The cigarette nearly fell from his lips.
Chang Xiao froze for a full second, eyes wide, heart leaping unpleasantly.
'Miao Ruiming?? Assigned to Yao Ziyang?'
He could already see the bloodbath in his mind. Those two men—Dong Yingming and Miao Ruiming—had a silent, simmering tension that was damn near unbearable when they were in the same room. Chang Xiao didn't know the full story, but he wasn't stupid. The reason was obvious enough.
It had to be Yao Ziyang.
His entire body stiffened.
"...Shit."
Of all the things that could cause bloodshed inside First Prison, this—this right here—was a top contender. Miao Ruiming and the boss already had enough tension over the dazzling man to fuel a power plant.
Now he's going to be officially assigned to Yao Ziyang? The one man Dong Yingming is borderline obsessed with?
His eyes snapped to the massive doors through which the boss had just vanished, the tension already building in his gut.
He had to warn Dong Yingming.
"Gotta warn him. Now."
He hissed under his breath, flicking the cigarette to the ground and grinding it out with his heel. Without a second thought, he turned and made a beeline for the entrance, his coat flaring behind him.
He burst through the inner gate, ready to find the boss—but the moment he stepped inside, a junior guard in black intercepted him.
"Vice Warden Chang!"
The young man called out breathlessly, firm but polite.
"You're needed at Block C—there's been an incident with one of the foreign cell wings. Warden Liu wants a direct report."
"Now?"
Chang Xiao scowled.
"I've got urgent business with—"
"He said it's time sensitive."
The guard cut in, clearly nervous.
"Please, sir."
Chang Xiao clicked his tongue, glancing over his shoulder toward the direction of Dong Yingming's private floor. Though he technically worked only for Dong Yingming, he still had to pretend to be under the Warden's staff in front of the other employees. He clenched his fists, then let out a long breath.
"…Fine…"
He muttered, turning sharply.
"But if the prison's still standing by the time I get back, it'll be a miracle."
He turned on his heel and stalked off toward Block C, mind already racing. He'd get back as soon as he could. But in the meantime, he prayed the boss didn't find out about Miao Ruiming's presence the hard way.