Author
If you finish ranting, š let's continue.
Sikong had been standing near the hotel's entrance for almost an hour, holding his phone. Every few moments, he'd glance down at it, scroll through something briefly, then lift his head again at the sound of any approaching or departing vehicle.
It was during one of those absent-minded moments that a vehicle approached the hotel gate. He didn't bother to look up right away...until the car was almost beside him. That's when his eyes caught sight of Zhan, seated on the left side of the car.
Before Sikong could make a move, the car had already pulled away onto the street. But he didn't waste time....he flagged down a taxi immediately and gave chase. He had no intention of letting Zhan slip away this time.
Meanwhile, Prince Yibo had already been waiting outside the event hall for over thirty minutes. He checked his watch again. Just five minutes left until Zhan was expected to arrive. He stepped out of his sleek car, climbed up to a vantage point, and positioned himself where he could see Zhan arriving....but without being seen himself.
He watched every single vehicle that entered or exited the venue. He was dressed in fitted green casual wear, the shirt featuring bold red lettering. His shoes were sleek, red-accented, and even his sunglasses were a deep, impenetrable black. With his arms folded across his chest and a face devoid of expression, he looked every bit the commanding, powerful man he was.
A car pulled up quietly beside his without drawing much attention. Zhan was the last to step out after stopping to thank the driver. He held a laptop bag slung on one shoulder and some documents tucked under one arm.
Yibo moved. Calmly, purposefully, he stepped forward.
"Good morning hubby. I hope you slept well," Yibo said, his voice soft and close to Zhan's ear.
Zhan startled so suddenly that the papers slipped from his grasp and scattered slightly. He turned sharply....and their eyes met.
Even though Yibo's eyes were hidden behind the dark glasses, Zhan's weren't. And in that brief moment, something in Zhan's gaze hit Yibo deep in his chest....memories, emotions, longing.
Zhan opened his mouth to say something, but Yibo cut him off gently.
"Don't say anything my dear. I've memorized every phrase you keep repeating to push me away. And every time you claim you don't know meā¦ it's like you're stabbing me, Zhan."
Just then, Sikong arrived. He had dismissed the driver and was already on his way to approach the area. But what he saw stopped him cold....Zhan, face-to-face with Prince Yibo.
It shocked him. Even though he had spotted Yibo earlier, seeing them together raised questions. Were they still involved after all these years? Eight years? What kind of bond lasts that long?
He edged a little closer, his curiosity now blazing.
Yibo, meanwhile, stepped even closer to Zhan....too close. He removed his sunglasses, letting Zhan feel his full presence. Zhan could smell his expensive cologne now, even stronger than he remembered.
The move lit a fire in Sikong's heart. A decision formed swiftly in his mind. He would act on it. Whatever his instincts were telling him....this was the time. Without hesitation, he pulled out his phone and switched to the camera app.
Zhan, feeling Yibo getting too close, suddenly turned, intending to leave.
But Yibo reached out....not just grabbed his shirt, but caught hold of his hand. The warmth of their touch spread across their palms, sparking memories and emotion neither had asked for.
Zhan spun around furiously.
"Let go of me."
"Please," Yibo said calmly, his voice now steady but soft. "Just give me a moment. Let's talk. Just you and me."
"And what if I say no and....?"
Yibo didn't wait for the words to leave Zhan's mouth completely. In one swift movement, he carry Zhan toward his car. It was something his heart had been urging him to do for a long time....a last-ditch act to get Zhan to hear him out, away from public eyes.
Sikong captured the whole moment....the resistance, the closeness, the pull into the car....snapping shots as Zhan tried to free himself but was clearly no match for Yibo's strength. Even from a distance, Fadwa and Salena, who had been watching in disbelief, gasped softly.
They had never seen Zhan look so... paired. So visibly matched with someone. The image of Yibo carrying him into the car, closing the door behind him, and circling to the driver's seat....it looked like a movie.
Salena turned suddenly and rushed to call Dr. Adrian, who had already left ahead of them.
Despite all of his pleading earlier to join them, Zhan had refused. Dr. Adrian would need to hear this.
Especially because, as he'd once said to Salena in Washington, "I've known his patterns for a long time."
Unfortunately, Dr. Adrian arrived too late. They didn't even catch a glimpse of Prince Yibo's car....only the faint track marks left by its tires. Fadwa informed them that he had already left.
They all stood around, tense and anxious. Even though they were familiar with business tycoon Yibo, none of them knew where he might have taken Zhan. And what made it worse....it had happened right in front of their eyes. Yibo had forcibly taken him, putting him into the car like it was a kidnapping, not a reunion. That alone told them it wasn't something Zhan wanted.
Dr. Adrian's anxiety only worsened when Fadwa added that Yibo had carried Zhan in his arms.....princess-style. That detail hit him hard. Anxiety clashed with a surge of possessive jealousy. He didn't even realize he was raising his voice at Fadwa and the others, lashing out at them as if they were to blame. Then he snatched his phone and began calling Zhan repeatedly, refusing to stop.
Meanwhile, Zhan was in a heated argument inside Yibo's car. His voice was sharp and furious. He felt humiliated....Yibo had reduced him to something like a puppet, carrying him away in front of everyone, stripping him of his dignity and respect in the eyes of people who used to look up to him.
If their roles were reversed and Zhan had done this to Yibo, he was sure Yibo would have exploded in rage. But now? Yibo remained silent, letting Zhan vent every ounce of frustration. Yibo knew.... Zhan's words, though painful, were cleansing. Saying them gave him a tiny sliver of peace. So Yibo chose silence, letting him say everything he needed to say, even if every word was a knife.
The 40-minute ride to Yibo's residence was long, and Zhan never stopped talking. His voice eventually faded, more from exhaustion than satisfaction. When they finally arrived, Yibo looked at him gently.
"We're here. Come on," he said respectfully, unbuckling his seatbelt.
Zhan glanced around, noting the people walking by, everyone minding their business. He scoffed and turned away, snapping, "I'm not going anywhere. Take me back to where you picked me up."
Yibo shook his head, his expression soft but firm. "I'm sorry... but I can't do that. I want to be with you. I need to know where my son is. How he's been living all these years. How you both managed."
"So, then we're spending years here?" Zhan snapped, sarcastically.
"No," Yibo replied calmly, "But I will carry you in if I have to....just like earlier. We'll talk inside. It'll be quieter, more private."
Zhan stiffened and narrowed his eyes. "If you touch me again, I'll scream. I'll tell the world you abducted me."
Yibo gave a crooked half-smile....it only made him look more striking, more dangerously calm. "You can scream for a whole year, Zhan. No one will believe you."
"Oh, right. Because you're the powerful one. You've got your crown, your wealth, your empire. You can buy anyone, can't you? And I'm just some nobody. A poor man without a name."
Zhan's voice was trembling, breath uneven with rage.
Yibo gave a small, almost tired smile. Though the words cut deep, he knew Zhan was just saying what his heart had been buried under for years.
"That's not it," Yibo said quietly. "In this hotel, no one will dare raise an eye at me. I basically own the place....I hold 70% of the shares. And youā¦ do you really want the father of your child to be known as someone who kidnaps people?"
That last sentence struck Zhan like thunder. The words echoed in his head. His eyes widened, and for a split second, he saw Jianghu's face in Yibo's eyes....his son.
That lookā¦ that nameā¦
Yibo said nothing else. He gently turned and stepped out of the car, leaving Zhan frozen in place.
Just as Yibo opened the door to Zhan side, Zhan quickly snapped, "Stop! Don't even think about touching me."
Yibo halted instantly, folding his arms across his chest, looking at him calmly. A faint smile he didn't even realize escaped his lips.
Zhan shot him a sharp glare, then stepped out of the car dragging his feet, letting out a long, angry sigh like he might curse out loud at any moment.
Since they entered the suite, Zhan had kept his head down. No matter how many times Yibo tried to speak, Zhan didn't even look at him, let alone respond. After some time, Yibo stood and quietly left the room. Moments later, he returned and began neatly arranging a variety of light refreshments on the table.
Zhan's frustration boiled over.
What exactly does this Prince think he's doing? Did someone tell him I was hungry? What is this nonsense?
Unable to stay silent, he snapped,
"Take me back to where you picked me up from. I never said I was hungry, so don't parade all this food in front of me."
Yibo smiled slightly and gave him a steady, quiet look.
"A guest deserves respect, even if the guest refuses to acknowledge you or work with you. Whatever I've done.... whether right or wrong, intentional or not....you need to sit down with me and talk. You can't ignore the fact that we share a bloodline. We must face what that means together. No one brings a child into the world alone. He'll need me someday, whether you like it or not. He'll want to know who I am. I'll give you a few minutes to think it over."
He stood and turned to leave.
"I don't need to think about anything!" Zhan growled. "I've spent years thinking about it. My mind has been so consumed by thoughts of you and what you did that it's exhausted. It wants peace....permanent peace. I've had enough of people like you and your royal nonsense."
Yibo only glanced back at him with another soft smile, then walked into the master bedroom connected to the sitting room. Zhan glared after him, furious with himself for not having screamed in his face earlier when he had the chance. Everything had happened so fast.
Inside the bedroom, Yibo leaned against the door and let out a deep breath, hand over his chest. This wasn't a small confrontation. But he believed things would eventually settle....if Zhan could just keep listening, even if he didn't respond like today.
Yibo exhaled slowly and walked over to a drawer, pulled out his heart medication, and took it. Just then, his phone buzzed. He looked at the screen....the Queen.
He answered respectfully, pressing the phone to his ear.
"When are you coming back?" she asked. "The traditional horse parade is in two weeks. Everyone's expected... especially the royal bloodline. Even those abroad will be attending. It's been nearly two years since you last attended. This time, you must be there. I want to see you standing proudly at His Majesty's right hand. Time is moving fast, and it's important people see you at his side. He has no one else like you."
"I want to come back too," Yibo said softly. "But the reason I've stayed away hasn't even begun to be resolved, let alone finished."
"What sort of reason is that, Yibo?" she asked with frustration.
He rubbed his head and glanced toward the door leading to where Zhan was.
"Just wish me strength, Mom," he replied. She assumed it was related to his business, and if it was about success and growth...she was always proud. But in truth, she worried deeply about him. There were many aspects of Yibo's life that didn't sit well with her...like how he treated his wife indifferently, how he stayed away from the palace for long stretches. It allowed rivals to gain more visibility and influence. People needed to see him and be reminded that there was a successor to the throne. One day, Zhaiye would be known as a princess, a royal daughter, a royal wife....and a Dawager Queen mother.
Still, she felt that since he had fulfilled all the promises and conditions she had once set, maybe it was time to let him be, let him live his life how he wanted. Someday, things would fall into place. One day, he would change, of his own accord.
"Alright. Take care," she said at last.
"Thank you," Yibo replied, hanging up the call and exhaling.
When she looked up, her eyes met Nalan's, who had apparently been watching her silently for some time. The Queen narrowed her eyes slightly, realizing Nalan had been observing her since their return from Washington.
"Are you alright?" the Queen asked.
Nalan turned away and looked down at the small notebook in her hand. Truthfully, she wanted Bai Wuxia to allow her to talk to the Queen. Every time she remembered what Zhan had said, guilt gnawed at her chest, and she wanted to say something. But Bai Wuxia had told her: There's a time for everything. Bringing this up now would only cause chaos and ruin what they were all hoping could still be repaired.
"It's nothing... I just keep wondering, what if we did something wrong? Could that be why my marriage is still delayed?"
Nalan ended her sentence with a sigh, her eyes fixed on the Queen.
The Queen found the remark strange and couldn't quite place its meaning. With confusion, she asked,
"What do you mean, Nalan? What are you trying to say?"
Nalan gave a faint, hollow smile and shook her head.
"It's nothing, really. Just something I've been feeling lately... I don't know if it means anything or not."
Silence fell between them in the sitting room. Her words made the Queen pause in thought. After a moment, Nalan stood, picked up her books, and left the room. The Queen watched her go until she disappeared from view.
Alone now, the Queen let out a heavy sigh. The strange dream she had the previous night returned to her mind. The boy again. The way he struck her at the hospital... and how he simply walked away. That scene repeated itself in the dream...but this time, he paused and looked directly at her before leaving. She closed her eyes and shook her head.
It's probably just something I've been carrying in my heart, she told herself.
Or maybe it's just that I miss Su Han too much.
SIKONG
He was so excited he couldn't even bring himself to go home. Instead, Sikong returned to his car and sat down with purpose. He turned on his mobile data, opened WhatsApp, and sent all the photos he'd taken to his mother. Then he exited the app, scrolled through his contacts, and called her directly.
She didn't answer until the call almost disconnected. By that time, he was already impatient.
"Where have you been, Mom?"
"I had visitors, didn't even notice your call until your sister brought the phone to meā¦ What's going on?"
"I've got news. Big news. A headline-worthy scoop. And the first sign that our eight-year-old dream might finally come true in just a few days."
She scoffed.
"I gave up on you already, Sikong. It's been eight years, and you still haven't delivered. We've pinned all our hopes and expectations on you."
He let out a dry laugh.
"What if I told you that within a week, your first wish would be fulfilled...and the second one already on the way? Would you believe me then?"
The Queen shook her head, clearly doubtful.
"You mean to tell me you're going to take down the Prince's reputation and the palace's influence in one blow? That seems impossible. He's not the boy we once knew. You couldn't handle him back then when he had no standing...how could you do it now?"
"Just go check your WhatsApp," Sikong said confidently. "Once you're done looking at the message, I expect a heavy bank alert to follow. Then we can move to phase two."
She hissed under her breath.
"Sikong, are you serious right now? When has your father ever sent you large amounts of money?"
"Mom, come on. How am I supposed to move forward without funds? Everything I do depends on having money."
"No one told you to skip school or treat your father's business like some side hobby. You never took anything seriously."
"And now that I'm finally doing something meaningful, this is the response I get?"
Remembering the topic again, she sighed.
"Alright, alright. I'll check."
With that, she hung up. Sikong also put down his phone, frowning, clearly annoyed, and waited for her response.
For a moment, Sikong felt a twinge of guilt. Maybe it wasn't right for him to let Zhan's face circulate through the palace as if he were some villain. But then againā¦ what other option did he have to make Zhan his, to win him over completely?
One look into the Prince's eyes earlier told him everything....the Prince was in love. Deeply. Obsessively. He couldn't even see anything beyond Zhan. Sikong realized then that Zhan had never really left the Prince's heart.
That thought calmed Sikong slightly. He leaned back in his seat and waited....either for his mother reply or for the money to land in his account.
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