Zhan was seated at his desk, engrossed in his work, when a gentle knock at the door broke the silence. “Come in,” he called out, looking up expectantly.
The door opened, and his father, Mr. Xiao, stepped inside, a warm smile on his face. “Hey, son. Hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”
Zhan’s expression brightened, and he rose from his seat to greet his father. “Dad! Great to see you. What brings you here today?”
As they exchanged pleasantries, Mr. Xiao’s eyes took in the impressive sight of his son’s office, and he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. “I just wanted to check in on you, see how life has been treating you. And I must say, your office is quite impressive!”
Zhan’s face glowed with pride, his chest swelling with gratitude. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot coming from you. I’ve been working hard to make you proud.”
Mr. Xiao’s smile broadened, his voice filled with sincerity. “You’ve done an outstanding job, Zhan. You’ve surpassed me in every way, and I couldn’t be prouder. Your business acumen, your leadership skills… you’re a true visionary. I’m so grateful to be your father.”
Zhan’s face lit up with gratitude as he expressed his thanks, his voice filled with sincerity. “Thank you, Dad. That means a lot to me. I learned from the best .” He smiled, his eyes shining with admiration.
Mr. Xiao’s expression softened, his eyes moistening with emotion. “You’re a credit to our family, Zhan. Your mother and I are both proud of you.”
As their words trailed off, an awkward silence descended upon the room, the tension palpable. Despite their cordial relationship, Zhan had always been closer to his mother, and the distance between him and his father was evident in the uncomfortable stillness that followed.
The air was heavy with unspoken words, the weight of their complicated past hanging like a shadow between them. Zhan fidgeted in his seat, his eyes darting around the room, searching for a way to break the silence. Mr. Xiao, too, seemed at a loss, his eyes fixed on his son with a mix of love and longing.
The moment hung suspended, a poignant reminder of the complexities of family dynamics, the unspoken emotions, and the delicate balance of relationships.
Mr. Xiao cleared his throat, shattering the silence that had settled between them like a fragile vase. His eyes, filled with a deep longing, locked onto Zhan’s as he asked, “So, my son, how are you faring beyond the confines of your office? Are you finding joy in life, or merely existing?”
Zhan’s response was measured, his words chosen with care. “I’m managing, Dad. The usual stress and pressure, but I’m learning to navigate it all.”
Mr. Xiao’s nod was slow, his gaze never wavering, as if searching for a glimmer of understanding. The silence that followed was oppressive, heavy with unspoken emotions and unmet expectations.
Then, with a resolve that seemed to steel his very being, Mr. Xiao continued, his voice low and husky. “Zhan, my son, I have wronged you in ways I cannot begin to express. I was blind to your needs, deaf to your cries. But I see now, I hear now. And I ask, no, I beg for your forgiveness.”
Zhan’s eyes widened, surprise etched on his face like a canvas of unbridled emotion. Yet, as he gazed into his father’s eyes, he saw the sincerity, the desperation, and the love. And with a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts, he replied, “Dad, It’s okay. I hold no grudges, no resentment. You are my father, and I love you, flaws and all.”
Mr. Xiao’s face contorted, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over him like a balm. He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to shake the very foundations of their relationship. “You never know what life has in store, Zhan. But I promise, I will strive to be the father you deserve, to be there for you, to support you, to love you unconditionally.”
Zhan’s smile broadened, his eyes shining with warmth, as he whispered a soft “Thank you, Dad.” The words hung in the air like a promise, a new beginning, a chance to rewrite the past.
As the moment lingered, the tension between them dissipated, replaced by a sense of understanding, of forgiveness, of love.
Mr. Xiao’s smile was warm and inviting, but Zhan detected a hint of underlying tension as he said, “Zhan, come home for dinner tonight. Your mother and I want to see you. And bring Wangji along, we’d like to…reacquaint ourselves with him.”
Zhan’s eyes narrowed slightly, aware of the complicated history between his father and Wangji. He knew his father had previously disapproved of Wangji’s pursuit of him, and the tension between them was palpable.
“Okay, Dad,” Zhan replied, his voice measured. “I’ll bring Wangji home for dinner tonight.”
As they walked to the door, the air was thick with unspoken words and unresolved issues. Zhan’s mind raced with questions: What was his father’s true intention? Was he genuinely willing to put aside their differences, or was this a ploy to further scrutinize Wangji?
The gesture was unexpected, and Zhan’s guard was up. But he was also curious, and a small part of him hoped that this dinner might be a step towards understanding and acceptance.
“Goodbye, Dad,” Zhan said, his eyes locked on his father’s.
Mr. Xiao’s smile was tight-lipped, but his eyes held a glimmer of determination. “Looking forward to it, son.”
As the lunchtime sun cast its warm rays through the office window, Wangji burst into Zhan’s sanctuary with a vibrant energy, his hands laden with an assortment of delectable dishes. The aroma of savory delights wafted in with him, teasing Zhan’s senses and stirring his appetite.
Zhan’s protests were met with Wangji’s persuasive charm, his resistance slowly worn down by the other man’s persistent coaxing. With a gentle yet insistent touch, Wangji guided Zhan away from his desk, beckoning him to leave his tasks behind and indulge in the pleasures of the table.
The tension between them was palpable, a delicate dance of wills and desires. But as they sat down to eat, the air was filled with the sweet scent of compromise, their differences momentarily set aside in favor of shared enjoyment.
In this fleeting moment, the world outside receded, leaving only the two of them, lost in the simple yet profound pleasure of each other’s company. The flavors they savored were not just those of food, but of connection, of understanding, and of the fragile yet resilient bond that grew between them.
Wangji’s inquiry about the food’s taste was met with a heartfelt response from Zhan, his eyes shining with appreciation. “So good,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity, his gaze fixed on the culinary delights before him.
Wangji’s smile broadened, his delight evident in the sparkle of his eyes. “I went to Mrs. Wang’s restaurant especially for this. She makes the best dishes in town, don’t you think?” he asked, his tone filled with warmth and consideration.
Zhan’s eyes widened in wonder, his mind reeling with the thought of Wangji going to such lengths to procure his lunch. “You went all the way there just for me?” he asked, his voice filled with disbelief and gratitude, his heart swelling with emotion.
Wangji’s smile softened, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he gazed at Zhan with unwavering intensity. “Of course,” he said, his voice low and gentle, his words dripping with sincerity. “You’re worth it, Zhan. You deserve only the best.”
In this moment, the space between them seemed to compress, their connection palpable and alive. The air was charged with unspoken sentiments, a sense of mutual understanding that transcended words. Zhan felt beheld, felt cherished, and felt an unshakeable sense of connection to this man who had so thoughtfully provided for him. The meal, once a simple act of sustenance, had become a testament to the bond growing between them, a bond built on kindness, consideration, and a deepening affection.
Zhan’s gentle smile bloomed on his face like a flower unfurling its petals, his heart beating faster with every passing moment. He had finally realized his true feelings, and the intensity of his emotions took his breath away, leaving him lightheaded and giddy. His soul was awakening, like a sunrise bursting over the horizon, illuminating the landscape of his heart.
Wangji, sensing the shift in Zhan’s gaze, stopped eating and met his eyes, his own expression softening in response. He felt the tension between them build, Zhan’s urging feelings palpable in the air like a tangible force, drawing them closer together. The atmosphere was charged with an unspoken understanding, their connection crackling with energy like a live wire.
Wangji’s eyes locked onto Zhan’s, searching for confirmation, seeking answers to the questions he dared not ask. He felt the pull of Zhan’s emotions, drawing him in with an otherworldly force, like a magnet attracting steel. Their gazes entwined like tender vines, their hearts beating in harmony.
Zhan’s voice was barely above a whisper, filled with love and passion, his words hanging in the air like a promise. “Can you wait for me?” The question was a plea, a supplication, a heartfelt request that spoke to the very soul. It was a cry from the depths of his being, a call to the universe to bear witness to their love.
Wangji’s smile brightened, his eyes shining with warmth, his heart overflowing with emotion. He felt the weight of Zhan’s question, the longing and vulnerability behind it, and his own feelings responded in kind. Without a word, he leaned in, his knees brushing against Zhan’s, their faces inches apart. The air between them was electric with anticipation, their connection crackling with energy like a live wire. Time stood still, suspended in the moment, as they hovered on the precipice of a new beginning.
Wangji’s hand rose, his fingers extending to trace the contours of Zhan’s face. The touch was like a whispered promise, a gentle caress that sent shivers down Zhan’s spine. As Wangji’s skin made contact with his, Zhan felt an electric bolt pass through his body, leaving him breathless and yearning for more. His eyes fluttered closed, his heart racing with anticipation, as if the entire universe had narrowed to this singular moment.
Wangji’s gaze devoured Zhan’s reaction, his eyes burning with desire. He saw the surrender in Zhan’s eyes, the silent plea for more, and it gave him the courage to proceed. With a tender smile, Wangji leaned in, his lips hovering just above Zhan’s, their warm breaths mingling in the space between. The air was heavy with tension, their connection crackling with energy like a live wire.
“Yes,” Wangji whispered, his voice husky with emotion, his lips barely grazing Zhan’s. The word was a promise, a vow, a declaration of intent. It was a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of their hearts, a soft whisper that awakened their souls. In that moment, time stood still, suspended in the infinite possibilities of their love. The world around them melted away, leaving only the two of them, lost in the depths of each other’s eyes, their hearts beating as one.
Without a second thought, Wangji closed the distance between them, his lips claiming Zhan’s in a deep, passionate kiss. The world around them melted away, leaving only the two of them, lost in the infinite expanse of their love. Zhan’s mind went blank, his senses overwhelmed by the tender pressure of Wangji’s lips, the sweet caress of his tongue, and the gentle embrace of his arms.
As they kissed, the universe contracted to a single point, their love becoming the sole reality. Time stood still, suspended in the eternal moment of their passion. The kiss was a symphony of emotions, a harmony of hearts, a dance of souls. It was the culmination of their longing, the fulfillment of their dreams, and the beginning of their forever.
In that instant, nothing else existed. No worries, no fears, no doubts. Only the two of them, lost in the depths of their love, their hearts beating as one, their love shining brighter than the brightest star. The kiss was a promise, a vow, a declaration of their devotion to each other, a love that would last an eternity.
The kiss became more intense than it was, with Wangji deepening the kiss as he graces Zhan’s tongue with his and their breathes becoming heavier and heavier with each passing minute.
Zhan’s body arched slightly, his lips parting further, as Wangji’s teeth gently grazed his lower lip. The subtle pain ignited a fire within him, and a soft moan escaped his lips, betraying his desire. The sound was like a spark that set Wangji’s passion ablaze.
Wangji’s arms wrapping around Zhan like a vice, he devoured Zhan’s mouth, their tongues entwining in a frenzied dance. The world around them dissolved, leaving only the two of them, lost in the all-consuming inferno of their love.
The kiss grew more intense, and Zhan’s body trembled with desire, his very essence surrendering to the passion. He leaned back, his form melting into the small couch, as if his bones had turned to liquid. Wangji hovered above him, their lips still locked in a fiery embrace, their love burning brighter with every passing moment.
Time stood still as they savored the moment, their hearts beating as one, their love shining like a supernova. The world around them melted away, leaving only the two of them, lost in the infinite expanse of their passion.
Finally, they broke apart, gasping for air, their lungs starving for oxygen. Wangji’s eyes locked onto Zhan’s, which shone with pleasure and desire, like the stars on a clear night. Without a word, Wangji scooped Zhan up by his hips, and Zhan wrapped his legs around Wangji’s waist, his arms locking around his shoulders, their bodies forming a perfect circle of love.
Wangji carried Zhan to the swivel chair, sat down, and turned it away from the door, creating a sanctuary for their passion. He devoured Zhan’s lips once more, and Zhan groaned, his body melting into Wangji’s embrace, their love consuming them whole. The world outside receded, leaving only the two of them, lost in the depths of their love, their hearts beating as one, their souls united in a love that would last an eternity.
Zhan revelled in the feeling of surrender, his body trembling with pleasure as Wangji held him close. He had asked for time, but this moment was too precious to resist. His hands fluttered like butterflies on Wangji’s chest, struggling to undo the blazer buttons, their kisses pausing only to gaze into each other’s eyes. Finally, the buttons yielded, and Zhan’s fingers traced the contours of Wangji’s shirt, undoing each button with deliberate slowness.
As the last button came undone, Zhan’s hands lingered on Wangji’s bare skin, caressing, exploring, and claiming every inch of his torso. The touch was electric, sending shivers down Wangji’s spine. His groan was a low, husky sound, a primal response to Zhan’s tender touch. Wangji’s lips claimed Zhan’s once more, their kiss deepening with every passing moment. Zhan’s hands traced the contours of Wangji’s chiseled physique, his palms caressing the ridges of his abs, his fingers following the tantalizing trail of his v-line. The world around them melted away, leaving only the two of them, lost in the infinite expanse of their passion.
Wangji’s eyes fluttered closed as he felt Zhan’s fingers fumbling with the buttons of his pants, his breath catching in anticipation. With a soft zip, the sound of his zipper undoing sent a shiver down his spine. He gasped, his body trembling with desire, as Zhan’s hands explored the newly exposed skin almost reaching for his most intimate parts beneath his boxers and he couldn’t help moving his hands, placing them on zhan’s ass and kneaded roughly and Wangji could feel himself getting hard.
The moment was palpable, their passion reaching a fever pitch, when a sudden knock at the door shattered the silence. But Zhan refused to relinquish the kiss, his lips still locked on Wangji’s, his heart racing with desire as he began humping on Wangji with both their minds clouded in lust. Yet, the sound of Xue Yang’s voice on the other side of the door pierced the air, and Zhan jerked away from Wangji, their eyes locking in a flash of panic. Wangji’s eyes widened, his voice barely audible as he whispered, “Shit.” The tension was palpable, their hearts still racing, as they froze.
As the door swung open, Xue Yang’s piercing gaze swept across the room, his eyes narrowing in on the tumultuous scene before him. The air was heavy with the weight of interrupted passion, the tension between Zhan and Wangji palpable as they struggled to compose themselves. The space was charged with the electricity of secrets and unspoken desires, the silence deafening as Xue Yang’s presence commanded attention. His raised brows seemed to ask a thousand questions, his curiosity a palpable force that threatened to unravel the delicate threads of their relationship. The moment hung suspended, a precipice of revelations and uncharted territories, as the three of them stood poised on the brink of a new era of understanding – or misunderstanding.
Xue Yang’s gaze swept across the room, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he took in the charged atmosphere. His grin grew wider as he surveyed the disheveled state of their clothing, his eyes lingering on the telltale signs of interrupted passion. He raised an eyebrow, his gaze locking onto Wangji’s, who shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. The air was heavy with tension, the silence deafening, as Xue Yang’s eyes seemed to say, ‘I know your secrets, and I’m enjoying the show.’ Wangji’s face flushed with embarrassment, his hands hastily adjusting his clothing. Zhan’s face turned beet red, his voice strained as he asked “Yang, what do you need?”
Xue Yang’s chuckle was low and husky, his grin mischievous as he dropped the document on Zhan’s table. “oh, nothing much…J…ust a little something to interrupt the festivities,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “Don’t worry, boys. Your secret is safe with me… for now so…carry on boys. I’ll leave you to….whatever it was you were doing.” With a wink, he turned and sauntered out of the room, leaving behind a cloud of tension, unspoken laughter, and the promise of future teasing.
As Xue Yang’s teasing words lingered in the air, Zhan and Wangji’s faces remained flushed, their hearts still racing from the interrupted moment. They exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. With a deep breath, Zhan turned to Wangji, his voice low and husky.
“Are you free tonight?” he asked, his eyes locked onto Wangji’s. Wangji’s surprise was evident, but he nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.” The air was heavy with anticipation, the promise of a rekindled moment hanging in the balance. With a subtle smile, Zhan nodded, his eyes never leaving Wangji’s. The tension between them was palpable, the silence speaking volumes of what was to come.
Zhan’s casual “okay” belied the weight of the invitation that followed. “Dad invited you over for dinner, so since you’re free, we can go together.” Wangji’s eyes widened in surprise, his mind reeling with the implications. Mr. Xiao, the formidable patriarch of the Xiao family, had always intimidated Wangji, who had assumed he was persona non grata in the elder man’s eyes. The invitation was a startling revelation, leaving Wangji both perplexed and apprehensive. Zhan’s laughter was warm and reassuring as he noticed Wangji’s trepidation. “Don’t be afraid, Wangji. My dad is a very nice person, I promise.” Wangji’s nod was hesitant, but Zhan’s words offered a measure of comfort. As Zhan stood up and closed the distance between them, his lips brushed against Wangji’s in a gentle peck. Wangji’s smile was tentative, but he returned the gesture with a soft kiss. The brief moment of tenderness dispelled some of the tension, and they parted ways with a promise to meet at 8 pm in Zhan’s car. As Wangji departed the office, his thoughts lingered on the enigmatic Mr. Xiao and the unexpected dinner invitation, his curiosity piqued and his heart still racing from the earlier interrupted moment.
As they stepped out of the car, Wangji’s eyes widened in awe, his gaze drinking in the opulence that surrounded them. The grandeur of the Xiao estate was beyond anything he had ever imagined, a testament to the family’s vast wealth and influence. He couldn’t help but think that this was what it meant to be truly rich, to be surrounded by luxury and extravagance at every turn. His gaze shifted to Zhan, who stood beside him, his expression solemn yet soft. Wangji’s heart went out to him, realizing that for Zhan, this level of luxury was not only familiar but also suffocating. Born with a silver spoon, Zhan had grown up with this kind of wealth, and it was no wonder he often preferred simpler things in life. Wangji’s eyes lingered on Zhan’s face, filled with a newfound understanding and appreciation for the man beside him.
As they entered the grand mansion, a warm smile from the kindly butler, Jenkins, greeted them. “Good evening, Master Zhan, Master Wangji. Right this way, please.” His dignified demeanor and gentle tone put Wangji at ease, despite the intimidating surroundings. Zhan nodded in response, his eyes scanning the opulent décor as they followed Jenkins through the lavish hallways.
“Jenkins, how’s the family?” Zhan asked, his voice low and familiar.
“Everyone’s doing well, Master Zhan. Your parents are eager to see you, and your brother and senior are… well, they’re being their usual selves,” Jenkins replied with a hint of amusement.
Zhan chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I can imagine.”
As they approached the dining room, the sound of laughter and conversation grew louder. Jenkins pushed open the doors, and they entered a space filled with the warm glow of candlelight and the aroma of exquisite cuisine. The Xiao family was already seated, with an unfamiliar face among them – a man in casual attire, his silver hair a testament to his age.
Wangji’s eyes widened, unsure what to make of the stranger, but Zhan’s gentle guidance encouraged him to follow. As they approached the table, the room fell silent, all eyes on them. Zhan’s gaze met his father’s, a subtle understanding passing between them. The air was thick with anticipation, the evening’s dynamics already shifting with the presence of the mysterious guest.
Mrs. Xiao’s eyes lit up with warmth as she hastened towards Zhan, her arms opening wide to envelop him in a tender embrace. “Zhan, my dear son!” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with affection. As she held him close, her gaze drifted to Wangji, her thoughts betraying a hint of curiosity and a willingness to trust her son’s judgment.
“mom” Zhan replied, his voice low ans gentle. “I’ve missed you.”
Releasing Zhan, she turned to Wangji with a radiant smile, her arms extending in a gesture of welcome. “And this must be Wangji,” she said, her voice gentle and inviting. As Wangji hesitantly reciprocated the hug, Mrs. Xiao’s eyes crinkled at the corners, her warmth and kindness enveloping him like a gentle breeze on a summer day.
In that moment, Wangji felt a sense of comfort and belonging, as if he had finally found a sense of home. The warmth of the Xiao family’s embrace was palpable, their love and acceptance a balm to his soul. As they pulled back, Mrs. Xiao’s eyes sparkled with a silent understanding, her heart open to this young man who had captured her son’s heart. The air was filled with the promise of new beginnings, the evening unfolding like a canvas of possibilities.
As the warm greetings and introductions continued, Mr. Xiao’s voice boomed across the room, inviting everyone to take their seats. The sound of chairs scraping against the floor filled the air as they obediently complied. With a nod, Mr. Xiao began to speak, his eyes shining with a hint of excitement.
“Before we begin dinner, I’d like to introduce a close friend of mine, Mr. Wen.” He gestured to the stranger, who smiled warmly in response. “Mr. Wen, this is my son, Zhan, and his friend and secretary, Lan Wangji.”
Zhan’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of Mr. Wen’s name, his mind racing with memories. Wangji, too, felt a spark of recognition, but neither of them spoke up with their thoughts hidden behind a mask of politeness.
Mr. Xiao continued, oblivious to the subtle tension. “Mr. Wen is an old friend, and I’m glad he could join us tonight. Zhan, Wangji, Mr. Wen is a respected businessman and a valued acquaintance.”
As the introductions concluded, the room fell silent once more, the only sound the soft clinking of silverware against plates. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, the evening’s dynamics hanging in the balance. The mention of Mr. Wen’s name had set off a chain reaction of thoughts and questions, but for now, they remained unspoken, hidden beneath the surface of polite conversation and elegant dining.
As the dinner plates were cleared, Mr. Xiao’s expression turned serious, his eyes locking onto Zhan’s. “I’ll get straight to the point,” he said, his voice low and measured. “I invited Mr. Wen here tonight because he’s an old friend and a trusted advisor. I have something important to share with you all, and I want him to be present as well.”
Mr. Xiao’s gaze bore into Zhan’s, his smile tinged with sadness. “I’m sorry, Zhan. What I’m about to tell you may be difficult to hear. It may make you very sad…and angry and I would highly respect that for you have the right to be.”
The room fell silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of the occupants. Zhan’s eyes darted around the table, searching for answers, but found only nervous glances and downcast eyes. Xue Yang’s curiosity was palpable, but he too remained silent. Wangji, however, had already sensed the gravity of the situation and steeled himself for what was to come.
Mr. Xiao’s words hung like a precipice, threatening to unleash a torrent of emotions. Zhan’s mind raced with questions, but he remained silent, his heart pounding in his chest. The silence was oppressive, a weight that pressed upon them all, as they waited with bated breath for Mr. Xiao to continue.
Mr. Xiao took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what was to come. “Zhan, remember when Yibo had an accident and also lost his life?” he asked, his voice laced with a hint of trepidation.
Zhan’s frowned, his mind racing with memories. “Yes, father,” he replied, his tone cautious. He wasn’t sure he wanted to revisit this particular topic, especially not now, when he was trying to enjoy a rare moment of peace.
Mr. Xiao nodded, his eyes clouding over with a mix of sadness and determination. “Yes, well…there’s something I need to tell you about that accident. Something I should have told you a long time ago.”
The room seemed to grow smaller, the air thickening with tension. Zhan’s heart began to race, his mind racing with possibilities. What could his father possibly reveal that would make him sad and angry? He leaned forward, his eyes fixed intently on Mr. Xiao’s face, as if willing him to continue.
Mr. Xiao’s expression turned sorrowful, his eyes welling up with tears. “After Yibo was taken to the hospital and we were told about the possibility of him not surviving the surgery…I did something I shouldn’t have done without your consent, Zhan.”
Zhan’s lips parted, but no words came out. He was frozen in shock, his mind reeling with questions. What could his father have done that was so grave, so secretive? The silence hung heavy, a weight that pressed upon them all. A solitary figure, shrouded in darkness, stood motionless, absorbing every word, every emotion, and every nuance of the intense conversation unfolding before him.
Mr. Xiao’s voice was laced with a mix of desperation and guilt as he continued, “At that time, you were in Yibo’s ward, I went to speak with the doctor about Yibo’s situation, probing him on what could be done to avoid the said end, but couldn’t fix a thing. I tried talking him into it, and that’s when he made a conclusion on involving a doctor whose expertise is very advanced in medicine and might be able to help.”
The words hung In the air like a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down in a desperate bid to alter the course of fate. The room seemed to hold its breath, the temperature soaring as Zhan’s gasps grew more ragged, his chest heaving with a mix of fear and anticipation.
The shadows on the walls appeared to deepen, as if darkness itself was closing in on the family. The air was heavy with tension, a palpable sense of foreboding that seemed to suffocate them all. The world outside receded, leaving only the three unawared people in the room, suspended in a state of collective dread, as they waited for the revelation that might affect them all, deeply.
“I immediately ordered for the doctor’s contact who happened to be Mr. Wen here,” Mr. Xiao said, his hand extending in a gesture, his eyes locked on Zhan’s. “He was our last hope, our only chance to save Yibo.”
As he spoke, Mr. Xiao’s gaze never wavered, his voice firm but laced with a hint of desperation. He pointed at Mr. Wen, who bowed slightly, his eyes cast downward in a show of respect.
Zhan’s gaze shifted, his eyes fixed on Mr. Wen with a mix of confusion and fear. His mind raced, trying to process the revelation, his thoughts tangled in a web of uncertainty. The room seemed to hold its breath, the silence oppressive, as Zhan’s eyes searched Mr. Wen’s face for answers.
Mr. Xiao’s words dripped with gravity, each syllable a drop of truth that painted a picture of deception and desperation. Zhan’s gaze snapped back to his father, his eyes wide with a mix of shock, disbelief, and a hint of horror. The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in on them, as the weight of Mr. Xiao’s confession crushed the air out of the space.
“We spoke on the phone, and he agreed to start Yibo’s treatment,” Mr. Xiao continued, his voice a steady drumbeat of revelation. “But we had a problem. Mr. Wen was in Africa at the time, so we had to move him there with a cover story….The person placed in that coffin wasn’t Yibo… but someone else.”
The words hung in the air like a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down to shatter the lies and secrets that had haunted the Xiao family for so long. Zhan’s gasp was a mere whisper of the storm brewing inside him, his mind reeling with the implications of his father’s words. The silence that followed was oppressive, a heavy blanket that suffocated them all, as they waited with bated breath for the next revelation that would shatter their lives forever.
Mr. Xiao’s voice trembled with emotion, his words a testament to the family’s unwavering dedication and the miraculous turn of events. “We started his treatment immediately, though it was almost futile, we persisted. For three long months, we fought to bring him back to life, and just when all hope seemed lost, a miracle unfolded. A pulse, a flicker of life, reignited our hope. The treatment finally succeeded, but Yibo slipped into a coma, a silent prison that held him captive for nearly three years.”
The room hung on Mr. Xiao’s every word, the tension palpable, as he continued, “And then, the day of reckoning arrived. Yibo awoke, his eyes opening to a world that had moved on without him. Weak, fragile, but alive. His first words, a whispered inquiry, a question that pierced the heart… ‘Zhan?’”
The air was heavy with emotion, the weight of Yibo’s journey, the struggles, and the bond that had endured it all. Zhan’s eyes glistened, his heart aching with a mix emotions that he couldn’t explain.
Mr. Xiao’s voice cracked with emotion, his eyes welling up with tears, as he revealed the final chapter of Yibo’s journey. “He ended up recovering very slowly, his strength and hope renewed with each passing day. Just a few weeks ago, we moved him back to China, and Yibo’s longing to see you became too great to bear. He began to sneak away, secretly visiting you, always lurking in the shadows, afraid to reveal himself, fearful of the unknown outcome.”
Zhan felt like he was suffocating, unable to draw air into his lungs. A maelstrom of emotions swirled within him – sadness, anger, and betrayal. He couldn’t fathom how his family could keep such a monumental secret from him. Yibo, his fiancé, the love of his life, was alive? How could they deem it appropriate to withhold this information from him? The cruelty of their actions was staggering.
As his thoughts seethed with repressed anger, tears began to fall, streaming down his face like a torrent. His voice trembled, barely audible, as he struggled to form words. “So… my Yibo… is still alive?” The question was laced with disbelief, his mind grappling with the implications of this revelation. He couldn’t reconcile the fact that Yibo, the person he thought he’d lost forever, was actually alive. The room seemed to spin around him, his family’s faces blurring together as he awaited an answer, his heart suspended in a state of anguish.
As Zhan’s mind grappled with the unfathomable truth, the room transformed into a boundless expanse of disbelief. The earth seemed to spin off its axis, leaving him teetering on the precipice of sanity. Every crevice of the globe had been scoured, every lead pursued, yet Yibo remained an enigma, a ghost haunting the recesses of his mind.
And then, as if the universe itself was conspiring against him, a figure emerged from the shadows. Clad in a black jogger, hoodie, and hat, the stranger’s face was obscured by a mask, rendering them an enigmatic specter. The air was heavy with anticipation as the figure approached, its movements eerily deliberate.
With a slow, almost agonizing, motion, the stranger revealed themselves. The hood fell away, the hat was removed, and the mask was lowered. Zhan’s world imploded. His legs trembled beneath him, his voice reduced to a mere whisper. “Y-Y-Yib-bo?”
The question hung In the air like a challenge to the gods, a plea to the universe to confirm the impossible. The room held its collective breath, the shadows cast by the dim light dancing upon the walls like a chorus of whispers, echoing the secrets that had haunted the Xiao family for so long.
In this moment, time itself seemed to warp and bend, the fabric of reality torn asunder by the sheer weight of Zhan’s emotions. The earth trembled, the skies darkened, and the stars hid their faces, as if the very universe was bearing witness to the reunion of two souls, once thought lost forever.
As Zhan’s voice echoed through the room, a primal cry of longing and disbelief, he lurched forward with an unsteady gait, his legs trembling beneath him like a newborn fawn. The table loomed before him, a seemingly insurmountable barrier, but he heedlessly propelled himself forward, bumping his feet painfully against its edge. The shock of the impact was nothing compared to the torrent of emotions ravaging his soul.
With a reckless abandon, he freed himself from the confines of the table, his eyes fixed on the apparition before him. Yibo’s countenance was deathly pale, a spectral presence that seemed to waver like a mirage. Zhan’s hand extended, trembling like a leaf, as if to confirm the reality of this vision. But he hesitated, afraid to shatter the illusion, fearful that the dream would dissipate like mist in the dawn.
“Is it really you, Yibo?” The words tumbled from his lips, a plea to the universe to confirm this miraculous reunion. His heart raced with an unbridled ferocity, threatening to burst free from his chest like a wild bird taking flight. The air was heavy with anticipation, the silence a palpable force that seemed to vibrate with the intensity of their emotions. In this moment, the very fabric of reality seemed to hang in the balance, as if the universe itself was holding its breath in anticipation of the answer.
As Yibo’s eyes met Zhan’s, a torrent of emotions overflowed like a dam breaking, releasing a deluge of tears and sorrow. The air was heavy with the weight of their reunion, their hearts beating as one in a symphony of joy and pain.
With a tender touch, Yibo bridged the gap between them, his hands cradling Zhan’s face as their lips met in a gentle kiss. The whispered words, “Yes, it’s me,” were a balm to Zhan’s soul, soothing the wounds of their separation.
Zhan’s embrace was fierce, his tears soaking into Yibo’s shirt as he clung to him with a desperation born of fear and longing. His words, muffled by their hold, were a litany of sorrow and relief, a plea to never be parted again.
Yibo’s response was a vow, a promise to never again leave Zhan’s side, his voice trembling with emotion. “I promise you, my love, I will never again leave you. I’m here with you now, that’s all that matters.”
In this moment, time stood still, the universe pausing to bear witness to the power of their love.
As the torrent of emotions continued to flow, Yibo swept Zhan into his arms, cradling him with a tender strength. The world around them melted away, leaving only the two of them, lost in the depths of their reunion.
With a gentle grace, Yibo ascended the stairs, carrying Zhan as if he were a precious treasure. The steps creaked softly beneath their feet, a rhythmic beat that echoed the pounding of their hearts.
As they reached the threshold of Zhan’s room, Yibo’s eyes met his, a soft smile illuminating his face. With a quiet reverence, he laid Zhan on the bed, his arms still wrapped around him, holding him close.
In this sanctuary, they found solace, their love a flame that burned bright and true. The darkness of their past receded, banished by the light of their reunion. And as they gazed into each other’s eyes, they knew that nothing could ever extinguish the love that burned between them.
The dining room was shrouded in an uncomfortable silence, the only sound being the soft hum of the chandelier above. The weight of Yibo’s sudden reappearance hung heavy in the air, a palpable tension that seemed to suffocate all in its grasp.
Wangji’s anger simmered just below the surface, a cauldron of emotions threatening to boil over at any moment. He felt betrayed, cheated of the possibility of something more with Zhan. Their connection had been growing stronger by the day, and now…now it seemed like a distant memory, a fleeting dream crushed by the harsh reality of Yibo’s return.
As he rose from his seat, his movements were stiff, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt. He bowed curtly to the older couples, his voice tight with restraint. “I’ll take my leave. I need some time alone.”
Mr. Xiao’s offer of hospitality was waved away, Wangji’s refusal firm but polite. “No, thank you, sir. I’ll return tomorrow, as needed.”
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving the mansion and its secrets behind. The night air was cool and unforgiving, a reflection of the turmoil that churned within him. He wandered aimlessly, lost in a sea of emotions, as the city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of color and sound.
His thoughts were a jumbled mix of anger, sadness, and frustration, a maelstrom of feelings that threatened to consume him whole. He felt like a ship adrift, lost at sea, with no anchor to hold onto. The only constant was the ache in his heart, a reminder of what could never be.
tbc~
