Chapter 36

Second to the last chapter.

Two Weeks Later

Yibo knocked gently on the door leading into the house as he stood on the veranda. It was a habit he had developed ever since he started living with Zhan. He preferred knocking and waiting for Zhan to either come and open the door for him or call out from inside, giving him permission to enter. It just felt like the right thing to do, allowing Zhan the space to acknowledge his return.

But today, silence greeted him. Even after knocking three times, there was no response... no voice from within, no footsteps approaching the door.

Frowning slightly, Yibo reached for the handle and turned it, stepping inside. As always, the rich scent of incense greeted him, filling the air with a soothing aroma. And beneath it, something even more familiar—something uniquely Zhan. A floral fragrance, the kind that only came from rare, carefully selected flowers. A scent that belonged to Zhan alone.

As Yibo inhaled deeply, his chest tightened. His thoughts scattered when he heard movement from the kitchen. Without wasting time, he set his things down on the couch and walked toward the source of the noise, his steps measured, almost hesitant, as if afraid someone might stop him.

The open-plan kitchen came into view, and there, standing at the sink with his back turned, was Zhan. He was washing dishes, likely the ones he had used after cooking. His red fitted shirt hugged his frame, accentuating his toned waist. The soft fabric clung to his body, outlining every contour. His hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, but a few loose strands had slipped free, resting against the curve of his neck.

In that moment, Yibo felt the ground shift beneath him, as if he were floating weightlessly. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.

Clearly, Zhan hadn't expected him home so soon.

Yibo's gaze traced over him, taking in every little detail. It was impossible to absorb it all at once.

Today, Zhan had added two delicate bracelets to his wrist, along with the familiar black beads he always wore. The water dripping from his fingers made the jewelry glisten, and for some reason, the sight sent a strange tightening sensation through Yibo's chest.

It was a reminder—an undeniable truth. They were still newlyweds. They still belonged to each other. Their time together wasn't fleeting.

Zhan was here with him by choice, not out of obligation. Their marriage wasn't forced upon them. It had been witnessed and accepted by their families, their friends, their entire community.

And that thought alone was enough for Yibo.

Even if he wanted more between them—wanted things to go deeper—he knew that, given his current circumstances, he should be grateful. His life was far from stable. He had no solid ground to stand on, nothing certain to hold onto. Yet, despite that, he had Zhan. That was more than he could have asked for.

At that moment, Zhan turned around, holding a bowl and some utensils in his hands. His dark eyes, lined with a faint touch of kohl, locked onto Yibo's.

For a second, surprise flickered across his face before he spoke.

"You're back. I didn't know you'd be home so soon."

Yibo forced back a small smile and replied, "You were busy. I didn't want to disturb you."

Zhan tilted his head slightly, still studying him.

"How was the interview? Did you finish? Did they hire you?"

The question brought Yibo back to reality, reminding him of why he had left in the first place.

He had never realized how difficult it was to find a job until he actually tried. It was one thing to say he wanted to work—it was another to find a place that would take him.

Despite having enough money to last for a while, he didn't want to live off of it forever. He wanted to work, to build a life for himself, to have the kind of routine he had once seen others have—where people left for work in the morning, came home to their families in the evening, and had something stable to rely on.

But finding the right opportunity had been harder than expected.

Eventually, he had to swallow his pride and ask Guang to put his name in for an opening at one of the bank's branches in Beijing.

That was where he had gone today. And not only had he passed the written exam, but he had also scored the highest among all the candidates. The interviewers had been thrilled to have him, talking about how lucky they were.

Meanwhile, Yibo had just stood there, listening.

Because he knew his time at that bank wouldn't last forever. It was just a temporary stop until he found his real path.

Yibo stepped further into the kitchen, feeling the breeze from the window brushing against his face, mixing with the scent of gas and food. He stopped midway, not quite reaching Zhan, and gave him a nod.

"I got the job."

A smile immediately appeared on Zhan's face, a small but genuine one. It made Yibo feel that familiar sensation he always experienced whenever he was with Zhan—not just now, not just from the first day they started living together, but ever since fate had thrown him into Zhan's life. There was something about Zhan that felt like an addiction, something that pulsed through his veins. If they were apart, Yibo would find himself constantly thinking about him. But when they were together, nothing else in the world seemed to matter... only Zhan and whatever he had to say.

If he had lost Zhan, if Zhan had never let him back into his life, would he ever have felt whole again?

"Congratulations."

Zhan's voice was soft, and he wasn't sure what else to say to fully express how happy he was for Yibo. But he hoped Yibo understood—that right now, he was sharing in his happiness completely. More than ever, Zhan felt that Yibo was truly a part of his life. Unlike before, he no longer saw him as a stranger. His heart had started opening up to him ever since Yibo shared his story, since the day their wedding took place in front of friends and family, and since the moment those very people had brought him from Guangzhou to Beijing, giving him a new home and a new sense of belonging.

And Yibo had been trying, truly trying, to make him feel comfortable. Zhan couldn't even count how many times Yibo had taken him out for a drive, just the two of them, showing him different places around Beijing that Zhan had never known existed.

Even when Min and Ning came over last time, Yibo had taken Zhan out so they could have time alone to themselves. Min and Ning had waited until they returned before dropping him off at home and leaving again, pretending he had other errands, but Zhan knew he was just giving them space.

It had been their second visit, but Min and Ning still seemed unsure around Zhan, as if they couldn't believe he was the same person they once knew. Their first visit had been with Mama, Ma Jing, and the rest of their family. They had arrived in two fully packed rickshaws, filling the front of the house with excitement. Even Zhan, who still found it hard to believe this beautiful home truly belonged to him, had watched as they admired the place in awe.

By the third visit, Min and Ning had brought the entire neighborhood with them, even people who weren't particularly close to Zhan. He had spent the whole day serving food, barely able to keep up with their endless chatter.

After seeing how many guests Zhan had to host, Yibo had taken him to the market himself to restock everything they needed. That trip had been another moment that made Zhan feel closer to Yibo. In the crowded marketplace, Yibo had instinctively reached for his hand, holding it until they reached their destination. And the way they spoke, the way Yibo asked him about what to buy, made it seem like they had known each other for a lifetime.

And if Zhan was being honest with himself, it did feel like Yibo had become more than just his husband after the wedding. When Yibo showed him a photo of his mother and sister, Zhan had kept that image in his mind. Even now, the picture sat in his room, and every day, he would glance at it, then at his own reflection in the mirror, marveling at how Yibo saw a resemblance that he himself could not.

Zhan set down the spoon and wiped his hands on a small towel.

"I already finished cooking. Are you going to change first, or should I just bring the food to you?"

He spoke the way he often did when Yibo came home. Most times, Yibo would just say, 'Just bring the food here…' without bothering to change his clothes.

Yibo loved the way Zhan took care of everything for him. The way he paid attention, memorizing even the smallest details about him... so much so that sometimes, Yibo didn't even have to say what he needed. Zhan just knew.

"Today, I think I'll take a quick shower first. The heat is unbearable."

Zhan nodded, still smiling. "Alright, I'll be waiting."

Yibo had already turned to leave when he suddenly paused and looked back at Zhan.

"Be honest… are you really happy about this job?" he asked.

Zhan knew exactly why he was asking. Two days ago, when Yibo told him about the job, he had instinctively blurted out, "I don't like bank jobs."

"Why not?" Yibo had asked.

Zhan hesitated, as if reluctant to explain, before finally saying, "I just feel like people never have enough time for themselves when they work in a bank."

Yibo had stared at him back then, and even now, as he watched Zhan, his heart told him one thing—he had never met anyone like him before. At first glance, Zhan seemed quiet, easy to read. But the longer you spent time with him, the more you discovered the layers beneath. Zhan was someone who chose his words carefully, someone who could say so much with just a few sentences—words that you had to think deeply about before fully grasping their meaning.

Yibo admired that about him. He found himself sinking deeper into his feelings, even though he still wasn't sure how Zhan truly felt about him. He felt like Zhan was always right there in front of him, yet just out of reach—distracting him with his beauty, making Yibo want to reach out, but at the same time, afraid to touch.

Running a hand over his nose, Yibo waited for Zhan's answer. But instead of responding, Zhan simply smiled and stepped closer—not directly toward Yibo, but close enough that only a small space remained between them.

"I mean it," Zhan finally said. "Now that you've already gotten the job, there's no point in overthinking it. Whatever I thought before doesn't matter anymore."

As he spoke, he opened a drawer that separated them and started taking out the white plates they always used. Yibo moved too, closing the distance, placing his hand over Zhan's on the drawer handle. Their fingers brushed, and for a moment, Yibo felt Zhan flinch slightly—but he didn't pull away.

Holding his gaze, Yibo said, "Don't ever think your opinion doesn't matter to me. From now on, your life and mine are moving forward together. That means your thoughts, your concerns—they all matter. We both need each other's advice for whatever we're going to face. That's part of what it means to build a life together. Do you understand?"

Zhan nodded slowly, taking in his words—not just understanding them, but feeling the weight of them.

And for the rest of that day, until late into the night, Yibo's words lingered in his mind.

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

9:30 PM

Guri burst into laughter over the phone pressed to Zhan's ear.

"I'm serious, I swear!"

She was gossiping about how Zhao Min had nothing else to talk about these days except him and the wedding. Apparently, she had even called distant friends just to tell them all about her son's wedding.

Zhan chuckled as he placed the lid back on the pot after pouring out some herbal remedy. Truth be told, he was still struggling to process everything. Almost every day, he and Zhao Min spoke on the phone—if he didn't call, she would. And with each conversation, he found himself growing more and more fond of her, truly seeing her as a mother figure now. But at the same time, deep down, he wasn't sure if it was because of everything that had happened so quickly or because of how abruptly his life had changed. Maybe that was why he didn't quite feel the same level of attachment that Zhao Min seemed to have toward him. She treated him just like her own son, the way she treated Fa Lan and her other children.

"Aunty Guri, one day you'll get caught for all this gossip," Zhan teased.

"Oh, please! She's busy with her husband. They're even planning a trip to Paris," Guri scoffed.

Zhan nodded. "Yeah, she mentioned that when we talked earlier."

"I wish they'd take me with them," Guri groaned. "Once they leave, I'll be stuck here, and these kids won't leave me alone for a second."

Zhan laughed again.

"Don't worry, it's only a matter of time. Once you get married, you'll be the one looking for them instead."

"That's true," Guri sighed. "But when? There's no date in sight. You, on the other hand, just got lucky. Not everyone has your kind of fortune, Zhan."

Her words made Zhan pause, his hands stilling over what he was doing. It was almost exactly what Yibo had once told him when Zhan had asked him about his family.

*"Before I even finished school, I was searching for any trace of my family. I went everywhere, from Hong Kong to Weifang, looking for any connection to my parents' side. In Hong Kong, I searched everywhere, but all I found was an old man who claimed he had once lived in the same rental house as my mother when she was alive and I was just a baby. But beyond that, no one knew anything about her family. The old man passed away soon after, and with him, any chance of learning more.

In Weifang, searching for my father's side was just as hopeless. I went to every place I could think of, through endless neighborhoods that might have been linked to my ancestors, but I had nothing—no records, just my father's name. It was like searching for a stranger in an entire city with nothing but a name. So, I gave up a long time ago. But then… then I met you. And for the first time, I let myself hope again. I truly wished there was some connection between us, Zhan. But like I said, not everyone is as lucky as you are..."*

Zhan shook his head, trying to push the thought away.

"Don't worry. Everything happens in its own time," he reassured her.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Everything in its time," Guri said with a sigh. "Anyway, you should go back to your husband before I turn into a lecture machine."

Zhan rolled his eyes, but he laughed. They exchanged goodbyes, and he hung up.

He placed the cup of herbal remedy onto a small tray, smoothing out his silk sleepwear. He had no idea what exactly the remedy was for—Yibo had simply given him the ingredients and asked him to prepare it.

Taking the tray, he headed toward Yibo's room.

It wasn't a room he entered often when Yibo was inside. In the mornings, he would go in to tidy up, but otherwise, he only ever stepped in if something important required him to.

His heart pounded a little as he knocked once on the door.

To his surprise, Yibo's voice immediately called out, "Come in."

Letting out a quiet breath, Zhan turned the doorknob and stepped inside.

The room was dimly lit, with only a single light near the bathroom casting a soft glow. The cool air from the AC mixed with the subtle fragrance of the humidifier Zhan had set up earlier, welcoming him as he stepped inside. Across the room, Yibo sat on the edge of the bed, focused on his laptop. The moment Zhan entered, Yibo glanced up at him.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Yibo said, closing the laptop and setting it aside.

Zhan approached slowly, but before he could get too close, Yibo stood up, eliminating the need for Zhan to bend down.

"It's for muscle pain," Yibo explained before Zhan could say anything. "It's been bothering me for the past couple of days."

Zhan simply offered a small smile, saying nothing.

"No, I just wanted to tell you beforehand—so you don't get any ideas," Yibo added.

Any ideas? What exactly did Yibo think he was assuming? Zhan quickly shook his head. "I know it's just traditional medicine. I wasn't thinking anything else."

Yibo tilted his head slightly before nodding. "Right. I forgot—you're wise beyond your years."

If Zhan had wanted to dwell on what Yibo meant by that, he never got the chance. Without hesitation, Yibo reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it onto the bed.

Zhan's breath hitched, and he instinctively squeezed his eyes shut. His pulse pounded in his ears, the memory of what had happened between them in Shenzhen flashing through his mind. Before he could stop himself, he took a cautious step back. One step. Then another…

But to his surprise, Yibo closed the distance again with two strides of his own.

Zhan forced himself to meet his gaze, and suddenly, Yibo's height felt even more overwhelming. A strange mix of unease and something else—something softer—washed over Zhan, spreading through his veins like an unfamiliar heat.

Yibo reached out, took the cup of medicine from Zhan's tray, and set it down on a cushion near the bed. His eyes never left Zhan's. And if Zhan wasn't mistaken, there was something in Yibo's expression—something unspoken, something deeper than words.

"Zhan, please," Yibo murmured, his voice impossibly soft, close to Zhan's face. "Give me a chance to fix this—our marriage. I think it's time we move forward… past this stage."

Zhan froze, his blood turning to ice before he even fully processed what Yibo was asking. Embarrassment crept up his spine, blending with hesitation and confusion, twisting into a tight knot in his chest.

"I just need your permission," Yibo continued, his voice even lower now. "I swear, I won't do anything unless you want me to."

The scent of Yibo's cologne was intoxicating, clouding Zhan's already overwhelmed mind. At that moment, everything else faded—everyone else, everything inside this room. There was only Yibo.

And the weight of the decision hanging between them.

The cold air from the AC sent chills down Yibo's skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. He had no idea where he found the courage to say those words—perhaps it was sheer willpower. His heart couldn't take it anymore. Seeing Zhan standing before him like this, in this moment, overwhelmed every rational thought. Every fiber of his being was drawn to him, overtaken by a primal need so intense that nothing else mattered.

His hands trembled slightly as he swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on Zhan. His chest felt tight, his heart pounding so fiercely he feared it might burst. All he wanted was for Zhan to say something—anything. He didn't care if it was acceptance or rejection. He just needed to hear his voice, to escape this agonizing suspense.

But the signs were clear—Zhan was just as shaken. That realization shattered the last of Yibo's restraint. Without thinking, he closed the remaining distance between them and pulled Zhan into his arms. His hands wrapped around him tightly, as if holding him could still the trembling in his own fingers.

But then... he felt it.

Zhan was shaking too.

A pang of doubt struck Yibo, making him question whether he had pushed too far, too fast. He opened his mouth, intending to say something—to reassure him, to give him an out.

"Zhan…"

Just his name. That was all he could manage before Zhan did something unexpected.

He moved.

Against Yibo's chest, Zhan lifted his head, nodding. Once. Twice. A silent answer—one that spoke louder than words ever could.

Yibo's breath caught in his throat, his heart stuttering between disbelief and overwhelming joy. But still, he had to be sure.

"Zhan…?"

This time, it wasn't just once or twice. Zhan kept nodding, again and again, until Yibo couldn't take it anymore. He cupped Zhan's face with both hands, searching his eyes.

And in that moment, as if fate had written it long before they even existed, everything fell into place.

That night became the turning point—the beginning of something new, something that would change them both forever.

Before another second passed, Yibo lifted Zhan into his arms, carrying him toward the bed. Even before they reached it, his lips sought Zhan's with an urgency that left no room for hesitation.

His hands roamed freely, mapping every inch of Zhan's body as if afraid this moment would slip away.

But Zhan didn't hold back either.

Gone was the last trace of hesitation. He met Yibo's hunger with his own, letting go of everything except this—except them.

And then finally, they did it...Sweet and gentle they become one.

NB

Honesty I the Author, I never fall in love with any of my written chapters expect this one, it's not romantic or smug... yet, the words, the emotions, words by words, so many things in one chapter... I can't believe I wrote it. 😜🤩

Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛