There was a red shirt and black three-quarter pants— the only outfit available. Zhan reluctantly put them on and only then noticed that the shopping bag also contained underwear's. He picked up the boxers with a mix of surprise and unease, stunned that they were all his exact size.
Annoyed and suspicious about how Yibo knew his sizes, Zhan shoved everything back into the bag and stormed out of the room. The house felt suffocating to him, every corner a reminder of his growing disdain for everything about the place.
At 2 o'clock, Zhan decided to make himself some black coffee. As he was sipping it, the doorbell rang. He turned toward the door, puzzled. It couldn't be Yibo—he never used the doorbell. Curious about who it might be, Zhan got up and walked to the door.
Standing there was a female soldier in uniform. She looked at him with the utmost respect and greeted, "Good afternoon, sir."
She gestured to a large basket in her hands, filled with three food dishes and several bags of fresh fruits. "Mr. Wang Yibo sent this for you. He's currently in a meeting with our Marshals."
Zhan opened his mouth to respond, his voice soft as he muttered, "Thank you," while taking the basket from her. He stepped back inside, and the soldier added, "If you need anything, I'll be right outside with my partner. We're in charge of guarding the house today."
As Zhan set the basket down, the aroma of the dishes immediately told him they were homemade. A pang of anxiety hit him as he wondered whether Bei or Granny knew he was here with Yibo. Forcing himself to eat despite his irritation, he finished the meal, knowing he'd need the energy to avoid dozing off later. The last thing he wanted was to fall asleep again, giving Yibo another opportunity to invade his space.
After clearing the dishes and returning them to the kitchen, Zhan sat in the living room, brainstorming ways to get out of the situation. He was becoming increasingly aware that Yibo's patience might wear thin soon, especially if he continued to stay silent. Zhan didn't know how long Yibo intended to keep him here, but he was sure it wasn't out of kindness—it felt more like an attempt to humiliate him.
Determined to take control of the situation, Zhan decided he'd confront Yibo when he returned. If Yibo had forgotten his place as Bei's younger brother, Zhan would remind him. Zhan wasn't someone he could toy with, and it was time to make that clear.
🔹🔸▪️▫️
The TV in the background played on, but Zhan's mind was elsewhere. All he wanted was to return home. Glancing at the clock, he sighed heavily when it read 4:20. Frustrated, he retreated to the guest room and buried himself in a French novel he'd found earlier in the living room.
By the time 6:30 rolled around, Yibo still hadn't returned. Zhan left the room to grab a small portion of dinner from the dining table, drinking some tea with honey to calm his nerves. While in the kitchen, he heard Yibo's arrival but chose not to acknowledge it. Only after Yibo disappeared into his room did Zhan return to the guest room and lock the door behind him.
Meanwhile, Yibo, not particularly tired, began undressing the moment he entered his room. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he headed to the bathroom and let warm water cascade over him, relaxing as he closed his eyes. The day's meeting had been productive, but it had dragged on longer than expected, leaving him grateful to finally be home.
After his shower, Yibo stood before the mirror, drying himself off. He applied some oil to his skin and spritzed on his signature Creed Aventus body spray before slipping into silky white pajamas and putting on slippers. Still on a call with Hannah, who insisted on visiting him, Yibo walked to the dining table. Half-heartedly, he ate a small portion of food, washed it down with a Red Bull, and moved to the living room, where he settled in to watch the news.
The phone calls kept coming, but Yibo remained calm, handling each one with the ease of someone used to constant demands.
Zhan, hearing the activity outside, finally opened the door to the guest room. He walked toward Yibo, his face tense as he stopped near the living room. Standing a few feet away, Zhan avoided direct eye contact as he spoke in a calm but firm tone.
"I have responsibilities waiting for me at home," he began, his voice steady but low. He paused, glancing briefly at Yibo, who didn't even turn to look at him. Yibo's eyes remained fixed on the TV, one hand holding his phone.
Zhan clenched his fists but quickly regained composure. "I need to leave. There's no reason for me to stay here any longer. I just need a pass to leave the neighborhood, and I've already arranged for someone to pick me up tonight. I won't be staying here another day."
Yibo slowly turned to face Zhan, his piercing gaze fixed on him for a few seconds. His eyes traveled over Zhan's face, down to the clothes that fit him so well, before shifting back to his phone as it rang. Seeing Hannah's name on the screen, he ignored it, returned his attention to the TV, and then, without much emotion, glanced slightly toward Zhan and said, "Go and get me some water, not too cold. Please."
Zhan was stunned. The straightforward tone, devoid of any teasing or playfulness, surprised him. His frustration grew as he turned fully toward Yibo. His exhaustion with everything that had transpired between them was evident in his sharp response: "I believe you heard what I said earlier, right? What is this behavior supposed to prove? A husband giving orders? Or something else entirely? Whatever it is, I don't have time for this. I don't need to spell it out for you, but surely you understand your position and the nature of this marriage. So, please, stop all of this and give me the pass. I need to leave here."
Yibo's sharp gaze locked onto Zhan, his pale eyes unreadable. Zhan, feeling the weight of that gaze, quickly averted his eyes, trying to hold on to his anger. Just as he was about to leave, Yibo reached out, gently grabbing his wrist and pulling him back. Before Zhan could resist, he found himself sitting on Yibo's lap, his movements restricted by the firm grip.
Yibo's voice was calm yet commanding, the kind that demanded attention. "Why do you keep insisting on reminding me of my authority over you?" he asked, his words carrying an edge that made Zhan glance back at him despite himself.
Before Zhan could respond, Yibo's fingers deftly undid two buttons at the collar of his shirt, exposing a bit of his skin. He leaned in, his face close to Zhan's neck, inhaling deeply. His hands slid inside Zhan's shirt, tracing gentle lines across his torso as he whispered, "I don't need to say it. My position, my authority—it's self-evident. I am your husband. I give the orders. I have the rights. And soon enough, you'll understand that on your own." His tone turned dangerously soft as he added, "But for now, that mouth of yours will stop questioning my authority."
Before Zhan could process the words, Yibo tilted his face upward, capturing his lips in a firm, deliberate kiss. Zhan froze, his mind reeling. He tried to push Yibo away, but his strength was no match. Yibo's hold was unyielding, his embrace enveloping Zhan completely.
Carrying him effortlessly, Yibo stood and headed toward the bedroom. Zhan's struggles grew weaker as he found himself overwhelmed by Yibo's proximity, his breath mingling with Yibo's steady heartbeat. The bedroom door closed softly behind them, and the lights went out. By the time Yibo laid him on the bed, Zhan's legs were trembling, ready to bolt, but his body refused to cooperate.
Yibo's gaze roamed over Zhan, a look of pure intensity that made Zhan's pulse quicken. As Yibo removed his own shirt, Zhan's panic escalated. He tried to move away, but Yibo caught him again, pulling him back onto the bed. The silk of Zhan's shirt caught Yibo's attention, his eyes darkening as he reached out, fingers tracing over the fabric.
"Perfect," Yibo murmured, more to himself than to Zhan, as his hands moved to Zhan's neck. His touch was both gentle and possessive, a stark contrast to Zhan's trembling frame. Zhan tried to push him away with renewed effort, but Yibo effortlessly removed the shirt, leaving Zhan vulnerable. The cold air of the room seemed to amplify his fear as Yibo's body pressed against his, warm and unrelenting.
Zhan's chest rose and fell rapidly, his protests reduced to whispers as Yibo's lips returned to his, claiming them with a fervor that left no room for escape. His hands wandered, exploring and claiming, while Zhan's resistance crumbled under the sheer force of Yibo's presence.
Tears of frustration and fear escaped Zhan's eyes as he tried to push Yibo away, but his attempts were futile. Yibo had stripped away more than just his defenses, leaving Zhan overwhelmed, confused, and vulnerable. The sound of Zhan's quiet sobs filled the room, blending with the low hum of Yibo's steady breathing.
By the end, the room was silent except for Zhan's muffled weeping, his voice hoarse and shaky. Yibo's actions had left an indelible mark, one that Zhan couldn't yet understand, but the intensity ot the moment hung heavily in the air, leaving neither of them untouched.
Yibo stopped everything he was doing to Zhan and slowly raised his head, looking at Zhan's face, now flushed red with tears streaming uncontrollably down his cheeks. Yibo sighed deeply, then gently used his thumb to wipe away Zhan's tears. In a soft voice, he said, "Zhan-ge, let's talk this through today, please. I'm sorry for everything I said to you earlier. I know we're equal partners in this marriage. I know I'm not above you, nor you beneath me. I admit I've been touching you without your consent, and I'm truly sorry for my past actions."
"Zhan-ge, I'm not sure if I like or love you yet, but I know I've never hated you. However, one thing I do know is that you've hated me since I was a child. Even back then, you never smiled at me or treated me kindly like you did with other children. Whenever our eyes met, you'd give me a look that I interpreted as disdain. That's why, as I grew older, I stopped visiting your mother and stayed at my own home."
"From that moment on, I promised myself that since you hated me, I wouldn't try to talk to you or build any relationship between us. That's how we grew up to be who we are now."
"But today, Zhan-ge, I need to know—what is your problem with me? What did I do to deserve your resentment? Why do you hate me, or why are you angry with me? Why do you detest this marriage? Please, Zhan-ge, I need to hear it from your own mouth. I promise, if you truly don't want to live with me as my spouse, I will leave you alone. I'll never touch you again without your consent. If you want a divorce, I'll grant it and explain everything to the elders. No one will force you to do anything ever again. I will make sure of that, Zhan-ge."
Zhan remained silent, processing Yibo's words. He heard everything clearly, but none of it addressed his real issue. His problem wasn't just the marriage itself but marrying someone so much younger than him. Worse, that someone was Yibo—the same person he had always viewed as arrogant and full of himself since childhood. Now, Yibo was outrageously wealthy, even surpassing Wang Dad's fortune, which only seemed to inflate his ego further. Yibo didn't interact with everyone equally, which Zhan despised.
The second issue was Yibo being Bei's younger brother. How could Zhan possibly share intimacy with him? It was embarrassing to even imagine Yibo as his husband, let alone having a romantic or sexual relationship with him.
Despite his turmoil, Zhan refused to say anything. The tears, however, stopped flowing as Yibo's gaze locked onto him. Zhan pouted slightly before shutting his eyes, unwilling to meet Yibo's stare. Yibo's eyes had a commanding aura, making Zhan's heart race uncontrollably.
Yibo widened his eyes and then smiled knowingly. "Ah, now I understand your problem, Zhan-ge. You don't like me touching you without your consent, right? But I know you don't truly hate it, because if you did, you're strong enough to stop me. My Zhan-ge isn't weak. You just don't want to admit you like it."
Zhan's eyes flew open, and he glared at Yibo. Yibo laughed lightly. "Okay, okay, you don't like it. I'm sorry. But you can take revenge on me right now, Zhan-ge." Yibo leaned back on the mattress, smirking. "Come on, Zhan-ge, do whatever you want to me. Get even. And if you don't want to be the bottom, we can switch roles."
Zhan's face turned beet red. Yibo chuckled at his reaction. "Oh? Zhan-ge, are you too weak to handle your younger husband?"
Before Yibo could finish teasing, Zhan groaned in frustration and suddenly straddled Yibo, capturing his lips in a fierce kiss. Yibo allowed him to pour all his anger and frustration into that kiss. Zhan bit, licked, and nibbled on Yibo's lips before moving down to his neck, where he sucked deeply on his Adam's apple and left noticeable marks. He didn't stop there, assaulting other parts of Yibo's neck and then moving to his chest, biting and sucking so hard on Yibo's small pink buds that they instantly swelled.
Zhan wasn't even sure how or when he ended up beneath Yibo, but Yibo had already taken control. Before Zhan could muster the strength to escape, Yibo stopped him, gradually breaking down every wall Zhan had built over the years.
The overwhelming pain and intensity of the moment were unlike anything Zhan had ever experienced. Tears he didn't even know he could shed began to fall again. He called out Yibo's name, pleading with him to stop, but it was too late. The boundary had already been crossed.
Zhan didn't even realize when it happened, but it felt like as though his very breath had left his body.
▫️▪️🔹🔸
At 6:50 a.m., Zhan opened his swollen, blurry eyes. Slowly, his gaze fell on Yibo, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, speaking on the phone. Yibo's tone, calm and distant, hinted at the conversation's distressing nature. Exhausted, Zhan shut his eyes again as silent tears began streaming down his cheeks. He tried to turn away from where Yibo sat, but that was when Yibo noticed he was awake.
Ending the call abruptly, Yibo set the phone aside and pulled Zhan into his arms, holding him close. His gaze softened as he noticed the endless tears rolling down Zhan's face. Gently, Yibo kissed Zhan's eyelids, his voice trembling with both warmth and restraint as he said, "Good morning, Uncle Zhan."
A fresh wave of shame and frustration surged within Zhan. He closed his eyes tightly, unable to meet Yibo's gaze after the night they had just endured. Silent sobs shook his frame, and his tears continued to flow.
Seeing his tears, Yibo felt a deep pang of guilt. He reached out to caress Zhan's face, but Zhan forcefully shoved his hand away and struggled to climb off the bed. However, his body betrayed him—his limbs ached fiercely, his joints refused to cooperate, and every part of his body throbbed with unbearable soreness.
When Zhan's bloodshot eyes finally opened, they widened in shock as he realized he was completely naked. Frustration mounting, he tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed to stand, but his weakened state made it impossible.
Yibo said nothing as he walked around to Zhan's side, effortlessly lifting him into his arms. He carried Zhan to the bathroom and gently set him down before reaching to turn on the water. Zhan, however, grabbed a towel, wrapped it tightly around himself, and pointed to the door, his trembling hand signaling Yibo to leave.
Without argument, Yibo exited the room, leaving Zhan to manage on his own. Slowly and painfully, Zhan began cleaning himself, letting the scalding hot water cascade over his body. Despite his efforts, his hands continued to shake uncontrollably, and he couldn't understand why.
Zhanxianyibo❤️💚💛