Chapter 32

The world kept spinning, but Yibo felt as if his mind was drifting further and further away. A strange sensation coursed through every vein in his body as his hands roamed over Zhan's skin. It was something unfamiliar, something he had never experienced before. And in those few intense minutes, he forgot everything... everyone-except for the overwhelming feeling consuming him.

But then-everything stopped.

Time itself seemed to freeze in his mind as a single thought struck him like a lightning bolt. Without thinking, he pulled away abruptly, standing up so fast that he stumbled back, his back slamming against the wall. He barely registered the pain. His breath was uneven, his body still trembling as he looked at Zhan, who lay on the bed, watching him in the dim light.

Then, before either of them could say a word, Yibo turned and hurried toward the door. He barely registered the sound of his own footsteps as he rushed out, the sound echoing in the silence of the night.

Once outside, he pressed both hands against his head, inhaling sharply through his nose before exhaling in a shaky breath. Sweat began to form on his skin.

Oh, God... What had he almost done? Or worse... what had he already done?

Desperate for air, Yibo stumbled onto the balcony, throwing the doors open wide. A cold gust of wind rushed in, chilling his overheated skin. He stepped back, collapsing onto the bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he had run a marathon.

His mind was a mess, tangled in confusion, frustration, and regret. His eyes locked onto the ceiling for what felt like an eternity, his thoughts spiraling into a storm of self-reproach.

Had he forgotten the promise he made to Zhan? The agreement they had reached before Zhan had even agreed to this marriage? Worse, had he forgotten why they were bound together in the first place?

And now... how would Zhan see him? Would he start comparing him to Peng?

A sharp wave of nausea rolled through him at the thought.

Yibo buried his face in his hands, his breath still coming in uneven gasps, his thoughts in complete disarray.

Meanwhile, Zhan practically ran out of the room, his steps stumbling as he forced himself forward. His legs felt weak beneath him, and by the time he reached Zhao Min's room, he was almost lightheaded.

When he pushed open the door, Guri, who had been rummaging through some nightwear for Fa-Lan, turned around, startled by the sudden entrance.

"What happened?" she asked, her brows furrowed in concern.

Zhan quickly shook his head. "Nothing," he muttered. "I just need to sleep."

Without another word, he threw himself onto the bed, pulling the blanket over his head as if he could hide from everything that had just happened. Even though the air conditioning wasn't on-only the fan whirred softly in the background-he still felt cold.

Oh, God... What had happened? What had Yibo done to him? Or... what had he allowed to happen?

His throat tightened as a different, unwanted thought crept into his mind... one that reminded him of Peng and everything he had almost lost back then.

So... were all men the same? No matter where he turned, was it always going to be like this?

But then again, wasn't this his fault, too? He himself started it, could he really blame Yibo when he had let it continue? He had stood there, frozen, not stopping it until Yibo himself had pulled away.

A heavy feeling of shame and regret settled over him.

What would Yibo think of him now?

How would he look at him, knowing that he was the one who had set the boundaries in the first place? That he was the one who had insisted nothing would happen between them?

Had he forgotten their agreement? Or... had Yibo forgotten it himself?

Zhan kept inhaling and exhaling deeply through his nose. The only things he knew about marriage were the bits and pieces he overheard when Mama spoke to Ning and the other females, but beyond that, he knew nothing. No one ever sat him down to have a real conversation, let alone discuss something as significant as marriage.

The label Min had placed on him....that he was merely a foster child in the family....had already spread throughout the school. It had left him isolated, without real friends, without anyone he could confide in.

The only person who treated him warmly was Aunty Rui, but even with her, such topics were never discussed.

And yet, despite all his anxieties and uncertainties, Zhan realized something strange... his mind wasn't spinning out of control. His thoughts weren't in chaos. In fact, even now, a lingering sensation coursed through his body, spreading through every vein. There was no regret, no overwhelming guilt....just the weight of his own embarrassment, and he didn't even know how to look at Yibo now.

His thoughts kept circling back, over and over, without finding an answer, until eventually, exhaustion overtook him. Even as sleep claimed him, his subconscious remained aware of Guri's every movement, the sounds of her making sure everything was in place, confirming that everyone had gone to bed and that all the lights were turned off. Only after she whispered a quiet goodnight did she finally go to sleep herself.

Even then, Zhan didn't know how long he lay there, eyes closed, lost in thought. The next time he blinked, daylight was already breaking through the horizon.

🔹▫️🔸

7:15 AM

Zhan and Ms. Er. Che were in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the children before they left for school. Meanwhile, Guri was ensuring they had bathed and dressed on time.

"This flour is awful. It's been almost an hour and a half, and it still hasn't risen properly," Ms. Er. Che muttered, stirring the batter with a frown. "Guri told me she preferd it at 5:30."

Zhan snapped out of his thoughts as he poured hot chocolate into cups for the children. He glanced at Ms. Er. Che and said, "If the flour is bad, there's no fixing it. Even if you go ahead and make them, they won't turn out well."

"I knew something was off the moment I saw the new flour bag," Ms. Er. Che sighed. "But say anything to Hong, and he'll just scowl and act like it's a personal insult. He thinks his role in this household makes him untouchable just because he handles the groceries."

Guri chuckled softly. Since she arrived, she had noticed that Ms. Er. Che and Hong never got along. Each was fiercely protective of their own responsibilities in the household.

Zhan finished adding marshmallows to the last cup of hot chocolate meant for Fa-Lan when the kitchen door suddenly opened.

Even before Ms. Er. Che spoke with exaggerated cheer, Zhan already knew who had walked in.

The scent of his cologne filled the air before his voice did, the same scent that still lingered on Zhan's clothes from the night before. Except now, it was fresh and strong, far more potent than the faded traces clinging to him since last night.

Ms. Er. Che grinned, turning to the newcomer. "Oh my, what an honor! A special guest in our kitchen today."

Zhan didn't need to turn around to confirm. He heard the polite exchange of greetings before Yibo set down a tray-the one Zhan had sent to his room the night before.

And with it came the weight of everything that had happened.

Zhan had spent all morning trying to push those memories to the back of his mind, but with Yibo standing there, the full weight of last night came crashing down, heavier than ever.

A flood of questions filled his mind-ones he had no answers for, ones he didn't even know where to begin looking for.

All he knew was that his thoughts were in turmoil once again.

Zhan had no idea what Ms. Er. Che had done with the sizzling pan over the fire. All he knew was that she suddenly pushed open the back door and stepped outside. Zhan was certain she had done it on purpose-to give them space.

Immediately, his heartbeat, which had barely begun to settle, surged again, pounding so hard it felt like it would shatter his chest.

He didn't turn around.

Not even when he heard Yibo's footsteps approaching.

"Zhan..."

His name was spoken, and Zhan recognized Yibo's voice instantly. But it sounded different from how it had the night before. This morning, it was clear, steady-just like the crisp air of dawn.

Zhan swallowed hard, forcing down the lump forming in his throat. He braced himself, then finally turned around.

His gaze met Yibo's for only a brief moment before he instinctively looked away. Yet, in that short span, he saw how Yibo was looking at him.

Yibo was fully dressed, immaculate as always, ready to leave. In contrast, Zhan was still in the same clothes from the night before, his body feeling heavy and unkempt.

"Good morning," he finally said, knowing that was the only appropriate thing to say.

"Morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Hm."

Zhan gave a simple hum in response, not even sure how his voice sounded.

Yibo had come prepared.

He had already decided what he was going to say. He was going to apologize, tell Zhan that everything that happened last night was a mistake-a moment of weakness that should be forgotten. He would ask Zhan to put it behind them so they could move forward as if nothing had happened.

That had been the plan.

But now, standing in front of Zhan, seeing how fragile he looked, how hesitant and unsure he seemed, Yibo found himself hesitating.

Then his gaze landed on something else...Zhan's hair.

Without his usual cap to hide it, Yibo could clearly see the braids he had run his fingers through last night.

It made Zhan look different.

Ethereal.

Like some divine being who had descended to earth.

And in that moment, for the first time, Zhan didn't resemble his sister, Liu, at all.

Yibo wasn't seeing a resemblance to anyone anymore.

He was simply seeing Zhan.

Breathtakingly beautiful.

And suddenly, all the words Yibo had prepared, all the plans he had so carefully crafted, wavered.

The golden morning light filtering through the kitchen windows illuminated Zhan's features in a way Yibo had never seen before. Maybe it was because they usually met at night, in shadows and dim lights, when details were blurred.

But now, in the soft daylight, every part of Zhan was visible, and Yibo felt something deep inside him shift.

Especially when Zhan spoke, and his lips parted just enough for a hint of his teeth to show.

Something tightened in Yibo's chest.

And just like that, his carefully thought-out plan began to crumble.

Yibo's fingers twitched, itching to reach out and touch Zhan's hair-those thick, black strands that looked so soft and silky. But before he could act on the impulse, he clenched his hands into fists and folded them behind his back.

"You're leaving now?"

Zhan's unexpected question snapped Yibo out of his thoughts. He immediately understood what Zhan was trying to do....he didn't want to talk about what had happened last night. He wanted to move past it, to pretend it never occurred.

That was fine with Yibo.

At this moment, he wasn't ready to discuss it either.

"Stay and have breakfast first. We're almost done preparing it," Zhan said, making the decision for both of them before Yibo could respond.

Yibo shook his head.

"Are you sure? I have a lot of things to take care of from yesterday until today. And you know we're leaving soon, so it's better if I head out early. You can just save me lunch instead."

Zhan nodded slowly, though his eyes flickered with something uncertain.

Before Yibo could analyze it, his phone vibrated in his pocket. His gaze lingered on Zhan for a moment longer before he pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID.

Shan Tunan.

Yibo turned away as he answered, pressing the phone to his ear.

Zhan let out a heavy breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Then, without thinking, he turned back to the tea set, focusing on arranging the cups neatly on the tray.

But just as Yibo reached for the kitchen door handle, he suddenly paused and turned around.

There was a look of surprise on his face.

Without a word, he walked back toward Zhan and handed him the phone, signaling for him to take the call.

Frowning in confusion, Zhan hesitated before setting the tray down and accepting the phone. He glanced at the screen, reading the name Shan Tunan, before reluctantly pressing it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Zhan... What name do you go by at school?"

The directness of Shan Tunan's question caught him completely off guard.

His chest tightened, his heart dropping like a fragile glass cup shattering against the floor.

Instinctively, one of his hands came up to cradle the phone closer as a whirlwind of questions swirled in his mind.

"Ahm... He Zhan..."

The name barely left his lips.

Meanwhile, Shan Tunan, standing in He Jun's house with a book in his hand, let out a slow, knowing smile.

He turned, scanning the many curious eyes watching him, until his gaze landed on his wife, Zhao Min.

And then, with unmistakable amusement, he announced,

"You owe me for this trip to Beijing, Zhao Min.

Your son has been right under your roof this entire time."

:-*:-*:-*:-*:-*

"Oh my God... Wu Jing, is this really what happened?"

Bing, Wu Jing's best friend, asked as she sat in front of her, fresh from a shower in the bathroom of her home.

It hadn't even been an hour since Wu Jing had arrived at her doorstep in a taxi, the driver adamant about getting his fare after bringing her all the way from Shenzhen to Beijing. The driver had initially agreed to let Wu Jing pay via a transfer, but the money hadn't gone through by the time they reached the city. When they arrived, instead of dropping Wu Jing off at a passenger terminal, she insisted on taking him to her exact destination so he could collect his payment in full.

He had almost refused to come, assuming Wu Jing was trying to cheat him, but in the end, he had no choice but to follow through. Bing, seeing the situation, had to scramble to gather enough money to settle the fare.

When she finally brought Wu Jing inside, she almost didn't recognize her.

She had lost weight, her complexion had darkened, and her eyes-once sharp and bright-now reflected exhaustion and distress. The suffering she had endured was written all over her face.

But what stood out the most was her hair.

Or rather, the lack of it.

The people who had held her captive had shaved her head completely before their leader, Emmanuel, ordered her release. After conducting his investigation, Emmanuel had determined that Wu Jing had no involvement in Ping's death.

Wu Jing wiped away a tear that had slipped down her cheek.

"None of that even matters anymore, Bing. I've lost everything. All my efforts, all my struggles-they were all for nothing. I lost Yibo despite everything I did for him."

Bing adjusted her seat.

"I told you before you left, Wu Jing. You should've used those mystical charms on him. Trust me, he would've come running back to you without hesitation. But you didn't listen to me."

"I told you-I wanted real love from Yibo, Bing. I wanted him to love me back because he realized how much I loved him, not because of some trickery. And even when you insisted and we tried those methods... they didn't work."

Her voice faltered, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her.

Bing sighed. "Well, that didn't work either, did it? So maybe it's time to give up and move on. Or better yet, go back to Bao-the father of your children."

Wu Jing wiped his tears again, flinching at the mention of Bao.

Bao-the man Bing had introduced her to back when she knew nothing about the world, when loneliness consumed her after being with Xu Liang.

Bing had convinced her that she was wasting her youth and should enjoy life while she could. She knew Wu Jing was attracted to Xu Liang's wealth, so she assured her she could have both love and money.

That was how she met Bao, a man who became her second "husband" while she was still with Xu Liang. Wu Jing had gotten pregnant by Bao but manipulated Xu Liang into believing the baby was his. After all, the hospital had never confirmed Xu Liang was completely infertile-just that there were uncertainties.

Xu Liang, already deeply obsessed with Wu Jing, believed her without question, blind to the truth. And it happened again-Wu Jing had another child, also Bao's.

That was when everything fell apart.

Wu Jing's eyes had finally opened to reality. She realized the kind of man Bao truly was, and to make matters worse, she later discovered Bao had contracted HIV. Fearing for her own health, Wu Jing distanced herself before it was too late.

Later, she met another man-Hanwen-a handsome young man she quickly latched onto. Wu Jing had a third child with him, but their relationship was short-lived.

Why?

Because Hanwen wasn't just interested in women.

It was around that time that Yibo entered Wu Jing's life.

Yibo-the man she loved more than anyone, more than anything.

For Yibo, she would've given up Xu Liang, Bao, and all their wealth without hesitation.

And yet, despite all her efforts, she had lost him.

Bing didn't even know the words Yibo had last said to her. Wu Jing couldn't bring himself to repeat them. She didn't even want to remember them.

She wiped her tears again.

"Forget Bao, Bing. Just drop it."

"You haven't seen him lately, Wu Jing. He's recovered completely. He's changed a lot. HIV and AIDS aren't the same, you know. He got treated ages ago, and now he's back to his old self-looking better than ever."

Wu Jing didn't reply. She simply turned away, staring out the window.

Right now, only one thing mattered.

How to get back to her family.

And how to make Xu Liang take her back.

Because this time, she wouldn't settle for anything less.

▫️🔹🔸

Inside Ping's massive office, Emmanuel sat in his chair, casually spinning it from side to side.

A pen rested between his fingers, which he occasionally tapped against his lips, deep in thought, as he waited for the message he had been anticipating since dawn.

Everything had already been divided. He had meticulously planned how to take control of every single thing Ping had left behind-his business operations, his wealth, down to the smallest asset. Nothing was beyond his grasp now.

Then, the long-awaited message arrived.

His phone rang on the desk.

It was the informant he had sent to investigate Mr. Yang Tao's residence.

He picked up the call and brought the phone to his ear.

"He's dead. The media hasn't reported it yet, but people have already started gathering at his house."

The informant's words brought a slow smile to Emmanuel's face.

He placed the phone back on the table without bothering to end the call.

It was done.

He had avenged Ping's death.

Now, there was only one thing left to deal with-Ping's family.

His wife. His daughter.

He would wait and see which of them dared to come forward to claim a share of Ping's wealth.

Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛