Zhan was crying....real, raw sobs that spoke of deep turmoil and the unbearable weight of life. His face was buried in Que's palm while all the younger children gathered around him, each one crying just as he was. In truth, he cried even more than they did. He had become both their mother and father, the center of their world.
Today, the day he was to be taken from them and sent away into a world unknown, it felt to him like his own funeral was being prepared. He couldn't imagine life without his siblings. He had no solid plan, no assurance of their safety. None of the explanations his father had given satisfied him. What had he ever done wrong....yesterday, today, or in the past....that would justify this? Why had no one listened to his pleas, his pain? Why had no one stopped to understand his reasons? Why did everyone place their own desires ahead of everyone else's?
Just then, he began to hear the commotion of his father's angry voice coming from the courtyard, which now resembled a public square more than a home. The house had already begun falling apart, emotionally and literally. His father was shouting at Fenghua, who now showed him a strict and fearful obedience. She left briefly, only to return with Zhan, ready to be presented like a bride on her wedding day, with everyone waiting outside for him.
Fenghua gently placed a hand on Zhan's shoulder and, softening her voice, said, "Zhan, you're not really going to leave them with strangers. Their father is still here, and I've practically raised them like my own. Don't worry, you'll be back before you know it. Just calm down, please."
That was the first time in all his years with Fenghua that he had ever heard her speak so kindly to him. He stared at her with the kind of look a betrayed soul gives their oppressor. All those years they had spent together, and not once had she shown him affection....until now, when it suited her. But he had no choice. He had to speak.
In a choked voice, heavy with tears, he said, "I leave my siblings in your hands."
"Don't worry," she replied with a smile that made his heart ache. "Your siblings won't suffer. We're heading into a life of comfort now. Hunger and ragged clothes will be things of the past."
Zhan turned his face away from her in bitter silence. Of course, she was happy... she had found an easy way out without sacrificing any of her own children. Then he turned to Que. Taking her hand tightly in his, tears poured freely down his cheeks.
"Que, now that I'm gone, you're next in line… I'm leaving all of them in your care. I hope you'll be brave and use all your strength to support them when they're weak."
Que broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Through her tears, she said, "We'll keep hoping, Gege. We'll pray for your return."
Zhan looked away from her and cast his gaze over his siblings, giving each one a final message tailored to their unique personalities. But it was Chou who broke his heart the most. Her sorrow cut deeper than the rest. Her words made him cry harder than he had all morning.
Without waiting for the escort Fenghua and Cunxin were scrambling to provide, Zhan opened the car door himself and got in. He huddled against the side, shivering from the blast of the air conditioning and the emotional cold tearing at him from within. Another wave of sobs overtook him, the kind that felt like his chest was being carved open. Over and over, Chou's final words echoed in his head:
"So that's it, Gege? If you leave too, then what? I still haven't even seen Mama. You said if she never came, you'd take me to her. But now you're going too? Just like that?"
Zhan didn't even realize the car had started moving. His thoughts were spinning in every direction. He remembered Nanjue.... one of the only people, aside from Nalan, who had shown genuine concern for his situation. He remembered the moment his father had handed over his fate like a signed contract. The wedding was in two weeks. His father had chosen a husband for him. He had no say in the matter.
If only he'd listened to Nanjue when he first came. Maybe things would be different. Maybe Nanjue could have been his lifeline. Maybe he could've entrusted his siblings to him. He didn't even know Nanjue well, didn't know his character, but still.... his gut told him he was better than anyone else in that household.
But it was too late.
The ink had dried.
The decision had been made.
And there was no turning back.
"Your Highness, we've arrived," a voice said from beside him. Zhan looked up in surprise to see who had spoken. It was Ms. Bao... but this time, she spoke with lowered eyes and a tone full of respect, as if he were her master, not a boy she once ordered around.
"Everything you were told to do, you can disobeyed. Whether you agree with this arrangement or not, know that I will never forgive you," Zhan's mind echoed with his father's final words....the very words used to cast him out. A deep numbness settled over him. What was even left for him now? He'd given up. Let them do whatever they wanted. If they wished to tear him from his life, so be it.
Moving sluggishly, he stepped out of the car, then froze as he looked at the house before him. Fear crept up his spine.
It was a luxurious mansion, radiating wealth even from the courtyard. He remembered clearly that when they left their old home, the sun had been blazing high in the sky. But here, there was no trace of heat. A gentle, cool breeze drifted around them. Everything was quiet, still, and perfectly kept.....like some majestic estate. In his estimate, the drive had taken no more than an hour, yet it already felt like a completely different world.
"That's the entrance to the house," Ms. Bao said gently, pointing the way. "Calm yourself your highness. From here, your new life begins."
A new life, she said. A life that would chain him to a fate he never chose. A life like walking a tightrope over an abyss, with no idea what lay below. A life where his freedom had been sold... not unlike the old slave trades, though more refined in appearance. A life that would bury every dream he once had, separate him from his siblings, and rob him of his education. What good was this "new life" to him?
These thoughts consumed him as they walked toward the house's sitting room.
Even from the threshold, it was clear this was a world far removed from the one he knew. The sitting room was massive, filled with lavish furniture and decorations designed for ultimate comfort. But Zhan had no peace of mind to appreciate any of it. He barely registered the five or so uniformed staff.... men and women assigned only to serve him.... who bowed respectfully as he entered.
He couldn't respond. He was paralyzed by three things: anger, bitterness, and despair. None of it impressed him. Not in the least.
Ms. Bao didn't leave him in the sitting room. She led him to a grand bedroom that bore his name.... a room so luxurious it looked like a dream. But none of it moved Zhan. Despite its elegance and thoughtful design, he simply sat on the carpeted floor, curling in on himself, already imagining how he'd have to live out his days in this space.
At exactly 2 o'clock, Ms. Bao brought food into the room herself, not even asking him to come out to the formal dining space.
It was a meal fit for royalty.... steamed rice, grilled chicken with a fresh salad, a spread of meat and fish stews, and several types of fruit drinks. It was far more than any one person could eat. All of it had been prepared for him alone.
But Zhan had no appetite. He wasn't impressed by the food, and he didn't want it. His thoughts were elsewhere.
Had Que and the others eaten today? If so, what did they eat? Who gave it to them? Who was looking after them now?
A sob escaped him.
Instead of touching the food, Zhan curled his head between his knees and resumed weeping.
Ms. Bao stayed beside him, trying to coax and comfort him, but Zhan wanted nothing to do with her.... didn't want to hear her voice or see her face. In his heart, she was the root of every misfortune he was now suffering. She had been the one who pointed him out… the one who came to his home, told his father, and promised him great things. If not for her, he would still be with his siblings.... even if their life was one of hardship, poverty, and hunger.
To him, that would've been a thousand times better than this gilded prison he hadn't even begun to fully experience. A life where his freedom had been traded away....just for a few months of comfort and quiet.
Seeing that Ms. Bao wouldn't stop talking, Zhan stood up abruptly and headed for the door she had pointed out earlier when they entered...the bathroom. He pushed it open, stepped inside, and closed it behind him. Then he slumped down beside the bathtub and picked up where his crying had left off.
Only after he'd cried enough to feel a little lighter in his chest did he glance at the clock mounted on the bathroom wall.
When he eventually came out, the bedroom was empty. Ms. Bao must've gotten tired of waiting and left. He didn't even glance at the side table where food had been laid out. Instead, he returned to his spot and sank deeper into thought, making a companion out of his silence.
🔸▪️▫️🔹
Around 5:00 PM, there was a soft knock at the door. For several seconds, he said nothing, just stared at it. Then it slowly opened. A woman stepped inside.... someone unfamiliar, holding something in her hands. Bowing her head respectfully, she said:
"Your Highness, the personal grooming specialist has arrived. He was sent by the Queen."
Zhan didn't respond right away. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn't at all. But even if he didn't, it wouldn't change anything. So instead, he rose to his feet and began adjusting his clothes.
"Ah… pardon me, Your Highness. Here are some garments you'll need to change into before you go," the woman said, extending a bundle toward him.
Zhan shot her a sharp look and started walking past her to leave the room. The very clothes he had arrived in from his father's house now felt like a symbol of insult... yet they still wanted to strip him of even those. The woman quickly stepped forward.
"Please, Your Highness," she said softly. "I'm asking you to change.... for my sake. If you go like this, I'll get in trouble. I'm begging you."
Zhan stopped and looked at her. The way she pleaded.... so genuinely..... made him pause. It was clear she had no say in this either. She was simply following orders. With a sigh, he stepped back and took the clothes from her hands. Seeing that, she turned and exited, giving him space to change.
He dropped the clothes on the bed, then slowly began inspecting each piece. Even without being told, he could tell these garments were expensive, made from the finest fabric. Soft, smooth, and elegant. Still, he didn't care about their quality or luxury.... he only changed so the woman wouldn't face consequences. That was all.
In a private suite, a man was already waiting....clearly a specialist brought in just for this. From his tools to his posture, it was obvious he was no ordinary servant. For the next two hours, he worked meticulously, restoring the natural tone and smoothness of Zhan's skin, removing every trace of dirt or hair that didn't belong. Even his hair was washed and styled. Though Zhan had been clean before, the treatment left him looking....feeling.....refined in a way he hadn't before.
💚🦁❤️🐰💛🐢
Three days had passed since Zhan arrived at the mansion. Everything a person could want had been placed at his disposal. And yet, his world was reduced to two rooms: his bedroom and the grooming suite he hated more than anything. Every evening they came for that service, and he loathed it with all his heart.
He never stepped beyond those two spaces, not once. Meals came several times a day, but he ate two....breakfast and dinner....and he ate each one out of obligation, never desire. Even the luxurious bed in his room had never been slept in. He only stared at it from afar. His mind was always with his siblings, not here. School? That dream had already been buried. But his brothers and sisters? He couldn't stop thinking about them.
The grooming continued daily. Deep down, Zhan could tell his body was transforming, but he refused to acknowledge it. He didn't want to give himself the freedom to care.
He had long stopped questioning fate. He had become like a statue, emotionless. After all, rebellion means something only when you have power and a voice. What good was resistance when no one would listen?
Lights blinked and dimmed rhythmically in a lavish courtyard designed solely for one purpose: to photograph Zhan. The photos would be sent to Prince Yibo.
Zhan sat in a beautifully ornate chair....but it wasn't the chair that drew attention. It was him. The grooming, the styling, the careful presentation… everything about him radiated grace and elegance.
Anyone who had known Zhan before would see him now and say only one thing:
"I never knew Zhan could be this beautiful. His skin… it's a gift on its own, and there's a quiet mystery in the way he looks now."
He wore clothing reserved only for the highest ranks....symbols of power and nobility. Anyone looking at him would know: this boy was being presented not just as a person, but as a treasure from one royal household to another.
Zhanxianyibo 💚❤️💛