Knowing what death is feels like a kind of battle...or perhaps an instinct that every living being carries in their heart. From the moment you realize you are breathing, you also realize that one day, that breath will end. From the day you open your eyes to the world and see morning turn into night, you understand that nothing lasts forever...everything changes, and everything eventually ends.
But in Yibo's understanding, death was always just one thing.
That single form of death he had prayed for in the past. What he never knew was that death had many faces. It could wrap itself around an event and reach you in a way only you would recognize.
That was the only way he could explain the state he had been in since the word marriage entered his life. If he said that what he felt was a kind of slow death happening every day, maybe people would finally understand how serious it was.
In the past, when he closed his eyes, his only desire had been to have Zhan by his side. He had taken many paths...paths he knew were wrong...but he let his heart decorate them with hope, closed his eyes, and accepted them until everything became reality. He believed that once that time passed, nothing else would bother him.
He was wrong.
Only now, after everything was done, had the anxiety surfaced...wrapping around him in a way that made him feel as though he had never known peace in his entire life.
From the morning he woke up and saw Zhan in his house, his heart told him that Zhan's entire life was now in his hands. Every plan he had built collapsed. Every time he looked at Zhan, all he could see was the weight of his own guilt. His mind had only one job now: calculating between two thoughts...the same thoughts he woke up with every day.
If everything he had planned came out, would Zhan accept him?
Would he accept the truth, his motives, and all the reasons behind his actions...even the way he had carried out this marriage?
Or would he look at him with the word Yibo feared the most....
Deception.
Just thinking about it damaged his mind. Even when he was at the hospital, hiding behind work, he could barely function. He had canceled surgeries twice because he felt he couldn't perform properly without something going wrong.
And beyond that anxiety, there was another problem...one he had never even considered before.
What had Duan warned him about?
What was so frightening about marriage?
What would really change once it happened?
What could possibly affect him more than everything he had already endured?
Those were his thoughts. He believed Duan's warnings were exaggerated. But the days he was living now...he didn't even know what to call them.
Torment?
Or turmoil?
From his body to his heart, he couldn't understand himself. All he knew was that every part of him was longing for Zhan.
Everything about him.
Especially Zhan's hands when he held them. The softness of his skin when he touched him. The subtle scent of his perfume. It wasn't just desire to feel him close...sometimes, when he looked at Zhan after he dressed up, his mind flooded with images of everything he wanted to do. His thoughts crowded his head until he couldn't stay calm. Even when he closed his eyes, the images returned...the things he had promised himself he would never cross the line into.
And what frightened him the most was how quickly it was all happening. In his mind, if he were ever going to feel this way, it shouldn't have been now. It should have been much later, when their relationship had matured.
But now...what had changed?
Why were the questions he once asked Duan suddenly different?
Was this what Duan had warned him about?
Was this the change?
If what he was feeling now was what Duan meant, then maybe he could admit that it truly could disturb his peace just as deeply as his past wounds had.
Every morning now, he woke up with the same questions:
What will happen as his life with Zhan continues?
What if things go beyond what he imagined?
What if he can't control himself?
What if…
What if…
What if…
:
:
To be honest, Zhan didn't even know when his lips had spoken Yibo's name or when his hand had grabbed the front of his shirt. He only had one goal....to stop him. To stop him by any means possible, because he didn't think Yibo would look at him the same way if he found out what was inside that bag.
If something had happened between them at that moment, everything would have felt easier for him.
But he didn't know what to call the moment Yibo turned to look at him...and at the hands gripping his shirt. Was it luck, or something else entirely?
If he hadn't let go, Yibo might not have been able to tear his gaze away from those hands before his voice came out...deep, low, and restrained.
"Fine. You win."
He said it as he withdrew his hand from the bag, still staring at Zhan's fingers. Zhan looked at his own hands too, as if trying to see what was different about them, then quickly pulled them away.
Yibo closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. When he opened them again, he said, "Give me a moment. I'll go change."
Zhan nodded without realizing it, watching him leave. The moment Yibo was gone, he grabbed the bag, sealed it tightly, opened the storage room, and shoved it inside. He locked the door, removed the key, opened the bottom kitchen drawer, lifted a box, and hid the key underneath it.
Only after that did he finally feel relieved.
He checked his phone...it was on silent. Two missed calls from Yufei. What could she even say to him? If she hadn't dragged him out of that spiral earlier, he didn't know what he would have done.
Then he paused.
What just happened?
Why did Yibo suddenly back off? What did he see in my hands?
He raised his hands and studied them. He knew Yibo liked touching them, liked holding them, but the way he had looked at them just now was different. He had seen the change in Yibo's eyes, and the way he had told him to stop. What had triggered that?
He pushed the thought aside and started carrying the warmers of the food he had cooked into the living room, one by one. He returned to the kitchen, took drinks from the fridge, and as he closed it, his conversation with Yufei replayed in his mind.
He had never really thought about what she said. He had never noticed anything unusual either. But over the past few days, he had realized that almost nothing happened between him and Yibo anymore. In the early days, it had been different. Now, Yibo seemed to deliberately avoid anything that might lead to intimacy. He hadn't completely withdrawn, but even when he held him, it never lasted long...he always found a way to pull away or change the subject.
Often, Zhan went to bed before him. After everything, Yibo would tell him to sleep, saying he would join him later. Sometimes he woke up at night and found Yibo beside him, holding his hand. Other times, Yibo would be meditating. If Zhan stayed awake, Yibo would pull him onto his chest or lap until he drifted back to sleep.
As much as Zhan enjoyed those moments, he had always thought they were enough. The care and affection felt like more than enough for him...he never thought something was missing.
But then he remembered the look in Yibo's eyes earlier. He had seen that expression before, especially during their late-night conversations when Yibo held his hand. It felt like it was becoming more frequent, deeper each time.
At that moment, Yibo's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up quickly and saw Yibo standing at the kitchen door, wearing only a sleeveless shirt and shorts. He was used to seeing him like that....Yibo always stripped down to something light when he got home. Zhan had once felt shy about it, but now he was used to it. And whenever he stared too long, Yibo would tease him:
"What are you looking at? Haven't you seen enough already....?"
"What were you thinking about?" Yibo asked, still watching him.
Zhan shook his head quickly.
"Nothing. I was waiting for you."
Yibo nodded and walked over, his scent surrounding him. He took the jug.
"Bring the cups. Let's go."
Zhan turned to get them, but the question slipped out before he could stop himself.
"Is something bothering you?"
When he looked into Yibo's eyes, he still saw traces of that earlier expression.
Yibo stared at him for a long moment, swallowed, and his Adam's apple moved. He placed the jug on the fridge, took both of Zhan's hands...still holding the cups...and held them together. As always, Zhan felt his body react. His heart skipped a beat, and the way Yibo looked at him made his legs feel weak.
"There are many things. Which one do you want me to start with, baby?"
Zhan felt his heart race. He swallowed and forced out his voice.
"Any of them. Tell me everything. I hope it's nothing serious."
Yibo closed his eyes, opened them again, and suddenly pulled him into his chest. Zhan felt every nerve in his body come alive. Yibo held him tightly, leaned toward his ear, and his voice brushed against his skin.
"Do you remember when I once asked you if you felt something when we talked on the phone?"
Zhan didn't know what to say. He stayed silent, breathing in his scent.
Yibo leaned closer and whispered:
"That's what I'm feeling now, Zhan. All the time. Whether I'm with you or not. It's just so much… so much that it hurts."
Zhan's eyes closed without him meaning to, and a heavy breath escaped him. His body felt like it was melting.
After a few seconds, Yibo spoke again:
"I was eighteen… when I watched a movie where the actor said this to his girlfriend…"
When Zhan heard that, he burst into laughter and gently pushed Yibo away.
"You almost made me think something serious had happened."
Yibo caught his hand before he could move too far back.
"The serious thing has already happened, Zhan. You are mine. You already belong to me...nothing can be more serious than that."
Zhan smiled, still looking at him.
Then Yibo asked,
"What was Yufei telling you on the phone earlier? What did you mean by 'it's nothing serious'?"
Zhan shook his head.
"Just our usual conversation. Nothing important."
"What kind of conversation? About how you should take care of me? And you told her it wasn't serious?"
The way Zhan kept smiling made Yibo nod slightly as he watched him.
"So you're saying women talk about more than just how to take care of their husbands?"
Zhan laughed.
"Is that really all you think women talk about? Don't they have lives outside that?"
"Like what?" Yibo asked, raising one eyebrow.
"Like school, work, friends, weddings, business…"
He listed several things. "See? That's already five."
Yibo nodded.
"I understand. But tell me...among all those things, is there any gathering where women don't end up talking about their husbands?"
Zhan stared at him for a few seconds.
"Even in the hospital?" Zhan asked smiling.
Yibo replied confidently,
"That's where they learn best how to take care of their husbands."
Zhan burst into unexpected laughter.
"You don't even know what you're talking about. What does 'taking care of a husband' even mean?"
"Do you want to know?" Yibo asked, staring into his eyes. The sparkle in his gaze deepened when Zhan nodded slowly, still watching him.
For a moment, time seemed to stop for Yibo. He forgot everything else...the world, the people, everything beyond the kitchen and the two of them.
"Let me give you an example."
His voice dropped, mixed with his breath, as he released Zhan's hands and wrapped his arms around him from behind, pulling him tightly against his body.
Before Zhan could even guess what would happen, Yibo leaned down and captured his lips.
Zhan's body trembled in Yibo's arms when his tongue brushed against his upper lip. He shut his eyes quickly, gripping the cups in his hands. Yibo pulled back slightly, as if studying him, then leaned in again...this time without hesitation.
Zhan felt Yibo's warm lips on his, kissing him deeply, urgently, as if he had been starving and had finally found food, as if he didn't even know how to stop.
Zhan's body shook in his arms, and when the cups slipped from his hands, he barely noticed. He only knew that if he didn't hold onto Yibo, he would fall. Even as he grabbed the back of Yibo's neck, it felt like they were falling into a bottomless void together.
Yibo's hand slid from the collar of his shirt down to his shoulder, his lips moving to the hollow of Zhan's neck. He kissed him there, right between his neck and shoulder, where Zhan felt his heartbeat most clearly. His body continued to tremble, his breathing uneven, every nerve in his body alive...so intense that Zhan felt like he might shatter completely in Yibo's arms.
And even though Yibo was holding him, Zhan felt as though he might collapse. He couldn't feel his legs, not even his bones...his entire body felt numb. So Yibo tightened his hold around him again, and for the second time that night, Zhan's lips whispered his name in his breath...this time sounding like a plea, though even he didn't know what he was pleading for.
"Yibo…"
To Zhan's surprise, Yibo's voice also came out hoarse.
"Damn it… Stop me… Please, stop me…Zhaaan!"
****
By the time Fuyue stepped into the building, he stood still for a long moment, watching the crowd moving back and forth, each person busy with their own affairs. He didn't really know what he was looking for or what exactly had brought him there. He only knew that his heart had decided the previous night that he needed to come here...and he had agreed with it. After all, even the wise said that the path you take to climb is the same path you must use to descend.
This was the place Peng had brought him on the day of Yufei's celebration, when he had asked for his help. This was also where he had met Malo, who had assured him that he and Peng were the same...so whatever he needed to do before Peng returned, he should go through him. And back then, with his eyes metaphorically closed, he hadn't thought much about it and had agreed...especially after Malo had given him money, money that blinded both him and Aunt Hsiao.
Now, with his eyes finally open, that money looked like a serious threat to his life.
He still hadn't done anything about the task Peng had assigned him. That meant he would have to face the storm that would come the moment Peng returned to the city. From his dealings with Peng, he already knew exactly what kind of man he was and what he was capable of. His greatest fear now was that Peng would decide to use those abilities on him.
Even if Peng didn't kill him, if he destroyed his life, where would he go? He had nowhere to turn, nothing meaningful he could say he had achieved in his life. So why should he risk provoking someone so dangerous over Zhan's matter....especially when he hadn't even reached the root of the problem, only a branch?
That was why the thought that Malo might be suspicious made him feel strangely relieved. What if he told Peng that Malo was betraying him and doing everything he could to protect Zhan and his husband, preventing any of his plans from working?
He already had a list of arguments and excuses that would make Peng see him as neither guilty nor incompetent. Peng would likely confront Malo with him...whether Malo truly betrayed him or not wouldn't matter. All that mattered was that he would come out of it unscathed, even if everyone else drowned.
Fuyue felt a smile tug at his lips at the thought. He once heard someone say that a woman's mind was like a book...the more pages you turned, the more you understood how sharp and capable she was. At that moment, he believed it completely. After all, it was his mother who had sent him here.
"Sir, who are you looking for?"
A man's voice from behind interrupted his thoughts. He turned quickly. Tall, dark-skinned… the kind of person people would judge as rude or dangerous at first glance, just like most of the people around.
He fully turned to face him and nodded.
"Yes, please. I'm looking for someone. He's tall, kind of fair-skinned...do you know him?"
To his surprise, the man smiled.
"Pepe? The one I've seen you with before, sitting over there…"
He said, pointing at a table ahead.
Fuyue turned and looked at it, and his mind confirmed it...yes, that was where they had sat when Peng first brought him here. He turned back and nodded.
"Yes, that's him. You know who I mean."
The man smiled again and licked his lips.
"He's not in the country. He traveled. Everyone knows that."
Fuyue nodded slowly. So it was true.
"Can you tell me when he returns?"
The man laughed in a way that seemed unrelated to the question.
"I'll know. I'm one of the first people who will know…"
He said, still staring at him. And from his answer and the way he looked at him, Fuyue felt like he might be able to use him to his advantage.