He placed her gently on the edge of the couch in the room, then sat down directly in front of her, looking into her face.
"You're crying? At your age?" he asked gently. "Have you forgotten I only gave you two years to sit before me in tears like this? Come on, wipe those tears."
A small smile escaped her lips as she used the back of her hand to dab at the tears trickling down her cheeks. Once she was done, he continued:
"Hugging someone you love or even sharing a kiss...none of that is wrong, Qiantang. What you did wasn't a mistake. I'm the one with the issue. Do you know why?" She shook her head silently.
"Because I'm reserved. I don't like being touched....or touching others. Especially you, knowing there's already talk of marriage between us. But be patient. Once we're married, I promise to let you touch me however you want... But that's not the main thing right now. Look, it's late. We shouldn't be alone together like this. Go back to your room and rest. I promise, tomorrow, we'll spend the whole day together."
His words washed away all the hurt and anger she had been feeling, it wasn't just his words....it was the tone of his voice. That gentle, calming sound from Yibo that soothed the heart. He rarely spoke to her with such tenderness and care, not with his usual aloof, regal demeanor. That's why she now felt like she was floating in the clouds.
Quietly, he walked her to her bedroom door. He waited until she stepped inside before letting out a deep sigh....at the exact same moment Bai Wuxia closed her own door with a sigh of her own. No doubt there was trouble ahead, and she knew anxiety was inevitable. Her instincts told her that this situation was leading up to something serious. Unless it was finally time for Zhan's fate to unfold, she feared this could be the second turning point in his life. Before going to bed, she made a decision....a decision she hoped would change everything, one that included thoughts of Zhan and Yibo's future.
The Next Day
The following day, Yibo had no choice but to give Qiantang all of his time. They spent the day together outside, moving from this place to that. For her, it was the happiest day of her life.... far better than any other they had shared. She was free to be with Yibo as she pleased, and their history had never allowed for so many uninterrupted hours together.
Still, despite the talk he had with her the night before, Qiantang couldn't help but reach for him again. Especially when he did something that touched or impressed her. This overwhelmed Yibo, made him more tense than he wanted to admit. Eventually, he realized it was just part of her nature...something she did without even realizing.
So Prince Yibo kept trying to avoid her subtle touches all day, right up until they got home.
That night was a long one for him. He was restless, and he knew very well the reason for the sudden surge of pain in his body had everything to do with Qiantang....her behavior, her presence, and that beautiful face and well-sculpted body of Zhan now sharing his sleeping space. That's why, the next morning, when Qiantang began preparing to leave, he was relieved...even if he didn't show it.
From early that morning, Qiantang had been pacing upstairs, only to find the Prince's door locked each time. She tried calling all his phones, but they were turned off. Yibo was inside....he heard every knock and call. He just chose not to answer. He didn't want her barging in again and worsening the turmoil he was already trying to suppress.
He knew, deep in his heart, he didn't love Qiantang. But he had convinced himself that she was meant to be his partner. Maybe that's why his body kept responding to her in confusing ways.
But that boy....the stranger who bore his husband's name....even the thought of his face, of his form...
Yibo's entire body would heat up, as if it were on fire. New, intense feelings would surge through him....different, undeniable feelings.
When Qiantang got tired of waiting, she asked Bai Wuxia where the Prince was.
"I think he went out," Bai Wuxia answered casually. "Maybe something came up."
Hearing that from Bai Wuxia made Zhan click his tongue in frustration. He swung his legs off the bed, preparing to emerge from the self-imposed isolation he had trapped himself in. Inside, he was muttering:
"So he's not even home? And I've been wasting time sitting here like a fool."
He wore a short-sleeved shirt that revealed his smooth, well-toned arms, paired with wide-legged pants that complemented the top perfectly. Over it, Zhan threw on a long black jacket that added an elegant finish. He looked so good, it was almost as if he had descended straight from the heavens.
Zhan already knew everyone was in the kitchen. He had been involved in the cooking from the beginning, always aware of the timing of everything. So he headed straight there.
Just as he was about to enter, he bumped into Qiantang, who was coming out holding a cup filled with fresh milk. She had got tired moving around the house searching for Yibo.
They locked eyes for a brief moment before Zhan moved past her without a word. Qiantang watched him as he disappeared into the kitchen, her heart wondering how someone like that could be a palace servant. There was something about him that unsettled her and drew her gaze again and again.
"La, la, la! Bai Wuxia, I thought we were supposed to do this together? If I hadn't come in, would you have just told me everything's done?" Zhan teased, eyeing the dumpling dough Bai Wuxia was working on, preparing it for steaming.
"I thought my boy had the day off today! My bad," she replied with a chuckle.
Zhan just smiled and climbed onto a long-handled chair, watching Lao, who was busy preparing soup. He was quietly impressed by the Chinese ingredients they'd managed to source....but he didn't ask. He wasn't the nosy type.
"No loyalty," Zhan muttered playfully as he gave Lao a mock glare. Lao chuckled and replied, "So what should I do then? Since you love locking yourself up in that room of yours."
"Hey, careful," Bai Wuxia warned, gently scolding Lao, who immediately lowered her gaze.
"Sorry, Bai Wuxia," she murmured.
Zhan just smiled again. Sometimes, Bai Wuxia made him laugh. Despite how ordinary he was, she still treated him with the kind of respect usually reserved for nobles. He removed his jacket and stepped over to take the dough from her, saying, "I really want to master this. Dough is the one thing I find difficult in cooking."
While they worked, Qiantang returned to place her cup down. Her eyes were drawn again to Zhan, particularly to the way his body and form stood out. It didn't matter if you were male or female....one glance and it was obvious he was beautifully made. For the first time, she fully accepted that beauty wasn't given only to women....men had their share too. She couldn't forget how just a few days ago she had been taking supplements to enhance her figure just to impress her Yibo.
Her gaze trailed along the silkiness of Zhan's hair as he worked the flour. The motion caused his ribbon to slip, and his long hair cascaded over his elegant long neck.
Within thirty seconds, the entire kitchen was enveloped in the soft scent of Prince Yibo. A moment later, his regal voice...calm yet commanding....drifted into the room.
They all turned around except Zhan. In just a few seconds, his heart clenched, and his whole body began to tremble. He felt rooted to the spot, unable even to move his neck. Regret and anxiety flooded him. He could hear Bai Wuxia and Lao greeting the Prince with deep respect, and Yibo responding with quiet authority.
Prince Yibo didn't acknowledge anyone beyond those who greeted him....until Qiantang, standing behind Zhan, spoke with a sweet tone.
"Hey, dear… Were you here all along without letting me know?"
Slowly, Prince Yibo shifted his gaze from Zhan. Even though he didn't know who the boy was, his heart told him it was the same stranger....his stranger husband. There was one thing he could never forget: the height, the sheen of his hair, and how his presence always stood out, even from afar.
Something sparked through his whole body again. That's why he hadn't dared to truly look at anyone else. Not unless he absolutely had to.
"Hey," he replied to Qiantang, short and clipped, trying to lower his gaze and turn his attention away from Zhan. Feeling he was about to lose control, he turned to leave. Qiantang followed him while Bai Wuxia asked gently if he needed anything.
"I don't need anything," he replied gently as he exited.
"Well, that's the Prince for you," Lao commented.
"Honestly, Bai Wuxia, has he always been like that? Doesn't he eat?" Lao asked.
Bai Wuxia chuckled. "Have you ever met someone who doesn't eat? He's just… strict with himself. He's always been that way, even as a child. Everything has to be in a certain order. He has strong preferences and gets turned off by the smallest things. It's not that he doesn't eat.... it's just that he's picky."
None of them noticed the storm brewing inside Zhan.
He quietly wiped the flour from his hands, picked up his jacket and ribbon, and tiptoed toward the sitting room, praying they wouldn't be there. Eyes shut, he braced himself....luckily, the sitting room was empty. That gave him just enough time to slip out and rush back to his room.
🔸🔹▫️▪️
Yibo had gone all out shopping for Qiantang....not because she lacked anything or needed it, but out of care, and to fulfill the wish of his mother, who believed such gestures would bring Qiantang happiness. He understood how much his mother cherished the bond between them.
He personally took Qiantang to the airport after purchasing her ticket. They said their goodbyes and she boarded the plane. Only then did about 30% of his mind find peace. Still, she left him with a host of emotions he didn't know how....or when.....they would heal.
It was the third time Bai Wuxia had brought Zhan a mysterious drink in a cup and insisted he drink it...only him. She never handed it over in front of Lao or anyone else. There was a deep trust between them, and Zhan never questioned it. Everything she gave him had a creamy, milky taste blended with other flavors he couldn't quite identify.
She stood over him while he drank, watching intently. Bai Wuxia wasn't doing this out of habit....it was out of hope. She wanted Zhan to remain just as he was in this household, stable, protected. That was her deepest wish: for things to change, and for him to stay.
Her instincts told her something big was about to happen concerning Zhan, and she wasn't taking chances. Even his bathwater, soap, and cologne had been changed to something entirely new, giving his skin and scent a distinct, elegant aura. Zhan noticed the difference, but he didn't question it. He remained silent, merely observing.
Once he finished the drink, Bai Wuxia sat beside him, her voice gentle and full of meaning.
"I hope you haven't forgotten your place in this house… or what caused you to leave your homeland."
Zhan's heart dropped sharply. He lifted his head in surprise, meeting her eyes, realizing she'd reminded him of something crucial...something he had pushed aside or perhaps chosen to forget. He gave her a slow, humbled nod.
"No matter what happens, Zhan, receive it with the hope that it will shift hearts and minds toward a better path for you. Be patient with everything. Whatever I do, I do for you. I do it to ensure that something meaningful....something never properly planned....can finally take root."
She stood abruptly, avoiding his gaze. He watched her leave, unable to decipher the full meaning of her words. He didn't know if his mind was too small or if her message was too large to grasp. Eventually, tired of trying to decode it, he let it go and returned to his tasks.
In just one day, Bai Wuxia had replaced all of Zhan's nightwear with luxurious, eye-catching pieces....elegant, expensive, and fine. They weren't his style at all, but he didn't complain. He reminded himself of who he was. He couldn't afford to cross any lines. His presence in the house felt more like a contract than a right. Preferences and choices weren't for him to express.
The second thing Zhan noticed was the change in bedtime. Bai Wuxia now insisted that everyone retire by 8 p.m., unlike before when she would go to bed early and leave him and Lao behind in the sitting room. Especially on nights when the Prince might not drop by.
Zhan didn't question it. Each night, once in his room, he would lie awake without sleep, scrolling through his phone until exhaustion forced him into slumber. It had been three nights like this....until the night everything changed, the night that explained all the strange shifts around him.
12:30 a.m.
Since Zhan left the sitting room and returned to his bedroom, he'd been tossing and turning across the bed, phone in hand, browsing articles and guides he thought might help him. What started out as focused curiosity turned into aimless scrolling. His back was sore now, so he put the phone down and got off the bed.
He spent about five minutes standing in front of his wardrobe, staring at the clothes stuffed inside. Even he didn't know how he had acquired so many. They were all his now. Occasionally, he overheard Bai Wuxia on the phone with a woman she called Her Majesty. He still didn't know who she was, although he had heard the name "Ms. Bao" mentioned once or twice, long before Bai Wuxia ever did.
Zhan strongly suspected this woman....Her Majesty....was the one behind everything happening in his life now.
Zhan often overheard the woman asking Bai Wuxia what they needed or how they were doing. He'd hear her send money with instructions to go shopping. They'd set aside soaps, body oils, lotions or creams, fine clothes, and ridiculously expensive perfumes meant for beautification and skincare....every now and then. But he never really knew whether those decisions came from Her Majesty Dice herself, or if Bai Wuxia made them on her behalf. Most changes only happened after Bai Wuxia had a call with her, which made Zhan suspect the instructions were hers after all.
He curled his lips slightly. In his past days, he never even bothered with pajamas, and now suddenly he had a whole wardrobe of them. He picked the softest one, the one that clung to his skin like silk. After undressing, he slipped it on, then glanced up at the clock.
His eyes widened. He couldn't believe how long he had scrolled his phone. Sleep tugged at him, but his throat was painfully dry.... he desperately needed water. So he slid into the matching slippers and quietly opened his bedroom door, making his way toward the kitchen. He knew that was the only place to find water cold enough to soothe his thirst.
Prince Yibo was already there, sitting in one corner of the kitchen, eyes shut. One hand clutched a glass of water, while the other was closed tightly around a few pills. He hesitated, torn about whether to take them. He had promised himself long ago that he was done with medication....but his current state offered no alternative. He didn't even know what would happen if he skipped them now. Maybe the consequences would be worse than taking them.
He opened his eyes when he heard soft footsteps. His eyes shifted toward the doorway....and then he saw him. For the first time, he got a proper look at the man he'd only glimpsed twice before. Zhan was approaching the fridge slowly, almost timidly, as if the night itself made him nervous. Yibo kept watching him, observing the grace in his steps that bordered on exaggerated elegance. Zhan took a bottle of water and walked out without even noticing he wasn't alone.
Yibo shut his eyes again, tighter than before, as though trying to sink into himself. Something stirred violently within him. Seeing Zhan again had shaken him. And now he understood....it had never been Qiantang. This stranger… Zhan… was the real unrest gnawing at his soul. His hand trembled as he set the glass down. He couldn't even hold it anymore.
Five minutes passed before he finally stood up, trying to pull himself together. He left the kitchen. When he reached the sitting room, he froze, unable to keep walking toward his bedroom.
"He's your husband. He's here because of you," a voice whispered in his head, loud and sure, like someone speaking directly into the center of his mind.
There was no way out anymore. He had reached that stage....the one where if he didn't get a shot, he feared he might completely lose control. He had already promised his mother he'd give up injections....and all medication. But it felt like some magnetic force was dragging him toward Zhan's room. Slowly, almost against his will, he reached the door, put his hand on the handle, and turned it open.
At that very moment, Zhan...lying in the middle of the bed, half-asleep...sensed the door open. His eyes flew wide in panic, heart pounding violently. But the room was too dark for him to see anything. He had already turned off all the lights, preparing to sleep.
"Who… who's there?" he asked, voice trembling with fear.
Yibo didn't reply. He simply walked toward the side of the bed, where he knew the bedside lamp was. Carefully, he reached out and turned it on. The glow was dim....barely enough to illuminate the room....just a faint shimmer that didn't even show the stranger's full face.
"Wh… who are you?" Zhan asked again, his voice more unsteady this time.
"Prince Yibo," came the reply, low and worn.
Prince Yibo? Zhan echoed silently. That name.... it was etched deeply in his memory. The sound of Yibo's voice and the familiar scent of his cologne finally clicked everything into place.
Zhan's whole body seemed to collapse inward. He shut his eyes. Whatever this is… it's over, he thought. Everything's finished. The hope he thought he had....it vanished. His happiness, his efforts… they meant nothing now. He had been brought to the very place he feared he'd end up. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks. He curled into a corner of the bed, terror twisting in his gut, like Death itself had just entered the room.
"Are you Zhan?" Prince Yibo asked, voice barely above a whisper.
When no answer came, he repeated, more directly this time, "Are you a virgin?"
Zhan answered with a faint, broken "Mm," so softly that he doubted Yibo even heard it.
Zhan couldn't even explain how Prince Yibo started romancing him, nor could he recall how everything had started....it was all a blur, swallowed by the shock and chaos of that night. In a foreign land, under a foreign sky, in an unfamiliar moment, his body was being taken in a way he knew had been predetermined long ago...sold, in a sense, by a father who had made that decision for him.
There were only a few things he could remember clearly: the scent of Prince Yibo, the barely audible words whispered during the initial touches, his voice....though Zhan couldn't make out what he was saying...and the pain. That excruciating pain. That was the last thing he remembered before everything went black. He only came back hours later, overwhelmed by the physical agony and the raw mix of fear and heartbreak that had knocked him unconscious.
When he woke up, there was someone sitting nearby. In the dim glow of the bedside lamp, he could just barely make out the figure beside him. He couldn't see his face, but there was no mistaking his presence....quiet, tense. The Prince hadn't slept either. Zhan closed his eyes again and suddenly broke into tears, the sound enough to alert Yibo that he was awake.
"I'm really sorry… I wasn't gentle with you," Yibo said quietly, guilt heavy in his voice. Zhan heard the apology, whispered like it was meant only for the silence between them. Then he felt Yibo rise and slowly walk out of the room without looking back.
Not even five minutes had passed when the door creaked open again and the lights were turned on. Zhan flinched at the brightness but kept his eyes shut. He assumed it was Yibo returning, and he didn't stop crying.
"Zhan," a voice called. It was Bai Wuxia.
Zhan finally opened his swollen eyes and looked at her. There was no smile on her face, no warmth...only a tense seriousness. She walked over to him and sat beside him, placing a steaming cup of tea on the table nearby.
"Try to drink something," she said softly. "The doctor is on his way."
Zhan didn't move. He couldn't. He knew that even a sip of tea would be too much for his raw, burning throat. The only thing in him now was despair. He sat there, weeping silently, tears flowing freely. It felt like his life had ended. There was no direction left for him, no hope, no future. He curled into himself, burying his face in his knees, sobbing as every second of last night's torment replayed in his mind over and over again.
Prince Yibo
He stood under the shower alone, water running down every inch of his body, eyes shut tight. Every moment from the night before replayed vividly in his mind....it felt surreal, like a dream he couldn't wake from. Was he really the one who had done that?
Part of him was consumed with guilt. But another part....the colder, detached part....insisted he had done nothing wrong. That this was marriage. That Zhan was his husband. That whatever happened, it happened under the name of union. Still, the guilt gnawed at him.
Yet, strangely, his body felt lighter than it had in years. The weight he'd carried on his shoulders, in his chest, in his bones....it was gone. He felt strangely… renewed. As if reborn. There was a strange flicker of peace running through him, an unfamiliar happiness warming him from the inside. You could almost read it on his face...though he didn't realize it himself.
When he finished his shower, he felt calm enough to leave the bathroom.
Bai Wuxia reentered Zhan's room with a cup of strong tea, rich with ginger and cinnamon, its fragrance wafting gently through the air. She knocked on the door before entering, even though Zhan didn't respond. She sat beside him and placed the tea on the table.
"Please," she said gently, "try to get something into your stomach. The doctor is almost here."
Still, Zhan didn't move. Not a muscle. He knew that even lifting the cup would be a struggle. He felt like his body had shut down. The only thing left inside him was sorrow....deep, bitter sorrow. His heart had sunk so low, he believed there was nothing left for him in this world. No purpose. No path.
They remained like that in silence until Lao entered to announce the doctor's arrival.
Dr. Hu
A young man, around thirty-seven, with a pleasant face and a calm, cheerful demeanor, walked in. He brought warmth with him, like sunshine cutting through storm clouds. He sat beside Zhan and encouraged him to drink a little tea first before beginning his examination. Despite his light teasing and jokes, nothing he said seemed to lift Zhan's spirit.
Eventually, Zhan closed his eyes again, tuning everything out.
Dr. Hu did a thorough check-up, gave him medication, and explained the treatment plan to Bai Wuxia. Meanwhile, Zhan sat quietly, filled with shame and dread. Now everyone would know what Prince Yibo had done. There was no hiding it.
Afterwards, Dr. Hu asked Bai Wuxia to give them a moment alone. When she left, he turned to Zhan.
"Please… look at me," he said gently.
Zhan couldn't bring himself to obey.
The doctor moved closer, gently taking his hand. "Not for me… just for yourself."
Eventually, Zhan opened his eyes and looked at him.
Dr. Hu gave him a small, warm smile. "You fought back, didn't you? You've got some injuries, but with some warm baths and medication, you'll heal."
Zhan had no response. Only silence.
Dr. Hu smiled again, a little wider. "Come on… Mr. Zhan, huh? You've got a handsome husband."
Zhan gave him a long look, listening, but not speaking.
The doctor continued with some advice. It might have been practical. It might not have mattered to Zhan.
But something about Dr. Hu....the way he spoke, the way he treated him like a human and not a problem....touched Zhan. He felt a flicker of something he hadn't felt in a long time: admiration. Maybe even longing.
If only he were someone like Dr. Hu. If only he had finished school. If only he had been allowed to dream.
But fate had turned into a pair of shears, cutting his future to pieces. What happened last night made him feel like all his chances at life were gone. Every dream had shattered.
And now… there was nothing left.
Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛