Peng.
If there was anything that had become truly suffocating in Zhan's life these days, it was Peng.
Before now, Zhan would sit back and watch Jincai's stubborn, tireless pursuit of him for years, sometimes even laughing about it with Aunty Shui. Those teasing conversations used to amuse them.
But ever since the day Peng finally grew tired of Zhan ignoring his calls and showed up to lay out his intentions before Nainai....and realized that she hadn't shut him down completely...everything changed. From that moment, Peng only intensified his efforts. He would send long messages, filled with every kind of plea, begging Zhan to answer his calls. No matter how much Zhan resisted, there were times when he would eventually give in and pick up.
Zhan warned him more than once that he didn't want those calls...especially not while he was at work or late at night. Peng couldn't stop himself, so when he didn't call, he replaced the calls with messages instead. Messages that Zhan deleted the moment he saw Peng's name, without even bothering to read them.
Peng seemed determined...almost desperate...to drag Zhan's attention back to himself. Zhan often found it baffling when Peng started recounting their distant past, a time when they'd once been close...back when Zhan himself hadn't even fully understood his own feelings, let alone known what he truly wanted.
What was most astonishing was that Peng himself hadn't cared about those memories back then. He'd forgotten them for years, moved on, gotten married, even had children. And now...only now...he had returned, flashing an old, worn-out card as if it still held value.
As for Peng's so-called love, whenever Zhan looked at him, there was something unsettling in Peng's eyes...something Zhan couldn't quite name. Just a feeling that made his heart uneasy, something that never sat right with him.
And Zhan didn't even know whether he was the only one sensing it. Everyone else in the family still saw Peng simply as Yufei's relative, or as Nainai did...a man who wanted to marry him, nothing more.
Now, standing in the market with Aunty Shui, Zhan finally took out the phone he'd stuffed into his bag earlier. He hadn't checked it since they arrived. Six missed calls stared back at him...all from Peng, one after another. On top of that were the calls Peng had made earlier, which Zhan had rejected while he was in Dr. Yibo's car.
His eyes fell on the message Peng had sent after the flood of missed calls...another plea, asking him to answer, insisting that he knew Zhan must have just gotten off work.
Zhan knew people often said that when someone truly wants something...especially a woman...they'll do anything to get it. But Peng's persistence felt far beyond that. To Zhan, it crossed into something disturbing.
It was becoming excessive...so much so that it was starting to frighten him. Like an obsession. Like someone losing their grip in broad daylight.
Now that Zhan sat on the edge of his bed, his phone in his hand, his attention drifting to the conversation he'd overheard earlier between Nainai, Aunty Shui, and Noni about their shopping trip to the market.
Beyond buying mats, Nainai had insisted they also get extra trays and two large ceremonial pots, arguing that there were still more celebrations ahead. It had taken considerable effort to find porters willing to haul everything out of the crowded market. Even loading the items onto a rickshaw had been a struggle, and getting them inside the house afterward was no easier.
That was why evening had fallen by the time they finally returned. As soon as they got home, Zhan went straight to the bathroom to shower... Yufei had already told him she was on her way. After he finished, his phone rang again. Another call from Peng.
He checked the screen, read the message Peng had sent, then replied briefly, saying he was heading out and would call later when he got back.
After sending the message, Zhan's gaze lingered on his long thin fingers. A thought struck him suddenly...Dr. Yibo's eyes, fixed on his hand earlier that day.
He remembered clearly how Yibo's full attention had shifted from the road to his hand, how the silence had stretched between them afterward.
Zhan hadn't spoken again until they reached the market, and even then it was Yibo who finally asked where he should drop him off.
Zhan set his phone aside and raised his long, slender hand, studying it closely.
What had Dr. Yibo seen?
What about his hand had caught his attention?
The question still puzzled him.
The moment Yufei arrived with her friend, Zhan's thoughts scattered. He stood up quickly and began getting ready.
"So what kind of card-sharing trip starts this late?" Aunty Shui asked Yufei teasingly.
"The body stylist wouldn't let me leave early," Yufei replied with a laugh. "Once she starts working on you, it feels like she wants to peel off your skin completely."
Aunty Shui laughed. "That explains why you're glowing. I noticed the moment you walked in. I was just about to say how beautiful you look. We'll do the same for Zhan when his turn comes."
As Zhan rubbed lotion onto his legs, he heard that...and another thought flashed through his mind.
Him... getting styled like a bride?
For whom?
Certainly not Peng. And not Jincai either. Those two felt like the only options people kept pushing toward him, simply because they were the most persistent. But Zhan couldn't imagine himself getting beauty treatment for either of them.
That was something he was certain would never happen.
Before Yufei and her friend even made it fully into the room, Zhan finished dressing. He chose a peach-colored shirt patterned with large white floral designs, paired with white trousers. Checking the time, he realized he didn't know how long they'd be out...there was no chance to call Peng now.
After saying goodbye to Nainai, they stepped outside. A cool breeze brushed against Zhan's skin, easing the fatigue he'd carried from the market, work, and the quiet weight on his heart.
He relaxed slightly.
Yufei showed him a video of the outfit she planned to wear to the reception...she'd recorded it during a fitting. Zhan's eyes stayed on the screen as they walked, until he finally looked up and took in his surroundings properly.
An he saw something pleasant.
The car that picked him up earlier....Yibo's car was right in front of them. Yufei open the front same car door he had entered earlier; she got in while her friend opened the back door and stepped in as well.
At that same moment, Zhan felt something heavy fill his chest.
✳✳✳
Peng.
In a wide, open space that looked like a hangout for young men and women, one glance was enough to tell that they belonged to a crowd hardened by excess....people who had long abandoned restraint or any sense of proper boundaries.
Even without staring too closely, their appearance alone was enough to draw the attention of any good passerby, tempting him to tap a number into his phone. And if you looked more carefully, you would notice the thin smoke curling from many mouths, mixed with other intoxicants drifting through the air...things you couldn't easily pin to any single background or identity.
At one of the tables, Peng took a drag from the cigarette in his hand, then slowly released the smoke through his nostrils, one hand still tapping away at his phone.
Across the table, his friend Malo turned away from watching a girl dancing nearby and looked at him with a grin. He tossed out a crude remark before speaking.
"Did you see Anita? So she's back? I swear, I'll eat that girl alive..."
He turned back toward the dancer, but when Peng didn't respond, Malo glanced at him again. Peng's attention was still glued to his phone, as if he hadn't heard a word.
"Pepe..."
That was the nickname everyone here knew him by...a name that concealed the real Peng from the rest of the world, from his family, and from anyone who might recognize him outside this life.
Hearing the name, Peng finally looked up, smoke drifting across his face.
"What's on your mind?" Malo asked. "What's got you this distracted?"
Peng clicked his tongue, raised the cigarette again, and took another drag....this time inhaling deeply. When he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out at first.
"Just leave it, Malo. I still can't get through to that boy. All he does is keep me running in circles."
Malo burst into a rough laugh and reached out for the cigarette. Peng handed it over.
"What were you expecting?" Malo said. "You thought you'd get him easily? The moment you found him....and figured out where he was....you should've known nothing about this would be simple."
Peng nodded, setting his phone aside.
"I know. That's why I'm still pushing. But I'm starting to think my effort alone might not be enough. Maybe I'll need something extra... He's wasting too much of my time."
"Something extra like what?"
Malo asked, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette away.
"Whatever it takes, Malo. Whatever it takes. There's nothing I won't do to get what I want."
Malo nodded slowly.
"Give him a little more time. Let's see how it plays out. Better if everything looks natural....so when it finally happens, no one starts asking questions."
Peng clicked his tongue again and turned away, biting down on his lip. Whatever was running through his mind was clearly eating him alive....something that haunted him day and night, something he carried constantly. It felt like the kind of obsession he might even trade his own life for, if it meant getting what he wanted.
"What about Xuelu?" Malo asked casually. "What's going on between you two?"
He was referring to Peng's wife.
Peng only shook his head.
"I'm done with her. I told you...I'm done. I'm just buying time before I take my daughter. Among my relatives now, there's nowhere I could take her where she wouldn't be accepted. They've already trusted my story."
Malo nodded again.
"Then relax. If there's no problem on that end, just keep chasing the boy. I've got a feeling about our plan...it'll happen. He's just pulling the thread a little longer before the end... or before it snaps."
He finished with a scissor-like motion of two fingers. Peng followed the gesture with his eyes, then nodded.
He wasn't giving up....he never would. Not until his plans and ambitions came true, just as he had been plotting for so long. He would keep pursuing Zhan, no matter how long Zhan kept slipping away, until time finally delivered him to his target.
✳✳✳
"I don't share. I guard." - Yibo
It was 8:30 p.m.
On rare occasions Yibo could remember, but tonight he turned on the TV in his sitting room. After Duan came to pick up his car and left, the house felt unusually quiet. They had spent most of the evening together, Duan talking endlessly about the wedding preparations.
Yibo barely retained much of it....only bits he knew he might need to ask about later or remind Duan of if necessary.
Duan didn't leave until after four o'clock. He drove off, saying he was taking his bride around to run some errands. He had arrived by plane, and his own car wouldn't be delivered until the day after tomorrow, when the driver he hired would bring it from Macau. Still, he insisted on using Yibo's car for all the wedding-related movements.
Once Duan left, Yibo called his mechanic, Friday. He asked him to bring out his old car from the garage and fix it up. After buying the current one, he'd had a minor accident with the old car and told Friday to store it away until he needed it again.
He hadn't realized how extensive the damage was until now, when Friday listed everything that needed repairs. After the call ended, Yibo recalculated the cost himself and transferred the money.
When he got back inside, the silence returned, and memories of his conversation with Duan drifted back. That was why he turned on the TV. He renewed his IQIYI and WeTV subscriptions, then rearranged the sitting room furniture. With his long legs....bare under the short house shorts he always wore at home....he pushed the two-seater away from the TV and dragged the three-seater forward, positioning it directly facing the screen.
He served himself food from what Duan had brought earlier, carried out seven bottles of water, turned off all the sitting room lights, and drew the curtains. Before sitting down, he called Najashi, who was still in the hospital, to check on him. After that, he spoke with his friend Samuel, who was staying with Najashi, about the latest medical bills. Before he could forget, he transferred the money, then stretched his legs fully onto the couch, picked up the remote and his plate of food.
He chose a movie and began eating.
As always....whenever a film truly caught his interest....his mind sank completely into it. By the time he reached the halfway point, he had already finished three bottles of water.
About thirty minutes into the movie, a scene played where a woman was about to leave a house. Her husband grabbed her hand and spoke to her. The camera lingered on their hands for barely a second, but even after the scene moved on, Yibo's mind pulled it back, replaying that exact moment....the husband's hand holding hers.
His eyes fixed on the fingers.
Slowly, the image changed. Not one. Not two. Not three. Different images of Zhan's hand....images he had unconsciously stored away....flashed before his eyes one after another. From one memory to the next, until it reached earlier that afternoon, when Zhan noticed the way he was staring at his hand.
He remembered how Zhan had looked at him, then at his own hand, before curling his fingers into a fist and pulling it back.
Yibo closed his eyes completely.
What was it about that hand?
What was he seeing in those fingers that made him unable to stop looking?
And why was it that no matter how much he tried to steady his heart around that boy, something always surfaced....something that refused to let him feel at ease?
Ever since the day he first dreamed about him, since that moment Zhan appeared in his dream, Yibo hadn't been able to push him out of his thoughts. Maybe it was the way he stood in that dream....so firmly....that he found a place in Yibo's mind and stayed there.
He slowly opened his eyes and reached for a bottle of water.
His throat felt dry all at once.
He drank almost half of it before setting it aside, then resumed the movie. But less than five minutes passed before his phone rang....it was Duan calling.
"Please, please don't be upset..."
That was how Duan began the moment Yibo answered. Yibo stayed silent, listening.
"There's been a small incident, Yibo. The car key fell into a drainage gutter in the neighborhood we came to. I tried everything with a few guys here, but there's no way to get it out. I thought I should ask if you have a spare."
Without meaning to, Yibo smiled and shook his head.
"Spending time with troublemakers has taught you all their tricks, Duan. You're lowering your voice like this just because a key fell?"
"No, you don't understand...."
"Where are you now?" Yibo cut in.
"We're in a ghetto area. Not far from your place."
"Just send me the location. I'm on my way."
"Okay."
They ended the call.
Yibo glanced at the food he hadn't even finished halfway. He picked it up and took it into the kitchen, covered it, then paused briefly, already planning to clean the whole place the next day since he'd be home.
He went back into the bedroom, crouched down, and opened the last drawer of a small chest beside the wardrobe. Inside were several boxes. He found a small one, opened it, and took out the spare key.
If Duan had been alone, Yibo wouldn't have bothered changing out of his shorts and T-shirt. But he knew Duan was with his fiancée. So he opened the wardrobe, grabbed the first clean white outfit he saw, and put it on. No cap, no fuss. He went to the sitting room, picked up his wallet and phone, slipped the key into his pocket, grabbed one bottle of water, and headed out.
His house was very close to the main road. He flagged down a taxi before he even reached it, got in, and simply said, "Let's go." He turned on his data, opened the location Duan had sent, and guided the driver until they entered a paved street lined with large houses.
Almost every house had its lights on, bathing the street in brightness. He spotted Duan ahead with two other men beside the gutter, clearly still trying their luck with the lost key. Nearby stood two women and a man beside Duan's car.
"Stop over there, by the men."
That was all he said to the driver. As the taxi stopped, Yibo reached for his wallet, so he didn't look closely at the women's faces. He paid the driver.... far more than the fare required.
"Thank you very much, sir," the driver said eagerly.
Yibo smiled, gave his shoulder a light pat, and stepped out.
Duan turned when he saw him, as if he'd dropped from the sky.
"You actually came? I have to admit....doctors really don't delay."
"Let's sort this out," Yibo replied simply.
They exchanged greetings with the other men, who immediately realized a spare key had arrived.
" Where is your finance?" Yibo asked.
"She and her people are over there," Duan said, gesturing toward the car. "Her brother said he'd come pick them up since we're done here, but he still hasn't arrived, even though he said he was close."
Yibo turned to look...and at the same moment, his eyes caught on something he couldn't immediately place. He frowned slightly.
"She's with her friends?" he asked.
"Yes. Her brother and her friend too. Come, let me introduce you. Looks like today will be your first meeting."
Duan walked ahead, and Yibo followed, his eyes fixed on the feeling he was trying.... and failing.... to dismiss. With every step closer, his certainty grew, until they reached them and everyone turned around.
Or rather....until Zhan turned and looked at him.
Zhan.
Zhan, whom he worked with every day.
Zhan, whom he had parted from earlier that afternoon.
Zhan, whom he had already been thinking about that evening.
Their eyes met.
"Zhan..." Yibo said without thinking, just as they came to a stop in front of them.
Duan, who had opened his mouth to introduce them, froze and stared between Yibo and Zhan.
"Wait....hold on. You know each other? From where?"
Before Zhan could react, Yibo answered calmly, "We work together."
Before Duan could speak again, Yufei cut in, eyes wide with surprise.
"So this is Dr Yibo? I didn't know you already knew Zhan....the Dr Yibo I've been hearing so much about."
Greetings followed all around, introductions blending together. While Duan was still explaining something to Yufei, another car pulled up and parked nearby.
"Peng Ge, you're just getting here now? We've been waiting forever,"
Yufei said as a young man stepped out.
"I went a bit far, and I didn't want to say I wouldn't come pick you up," Peng replied, shaking Duan's hand. Then he turned to Yibo, who was standing nearby, and greeted him as well.
"If you'd said you were far away, we wouldn't have waited."
"That's why I didn't say anything....especially since you told me you were with Zhan."
Peng said this as he turned to look directly at Zhan.
Something shifted subtly in Yibo's gaze as he watched them.
"So what do we do now? There are two cars here,"
Duan said, folding his arms across his chest and looking at Yufei.
Yufei smiled back at him. "We'll go with Peng Ge. He's heading straight home anyway, and we asked him to come."
"Alright," Duan agreed, "but come here for a second."
She followed him aside, and they began talking quietly.
Yibo simply walked over, opened his car, and got in.... just as his eyes caught Peng speaking to Zhan. Yufei's friend moved over to Peng's car, standing there and tapping on her phone.
Inside the car, Yibo set his phone and wallet in the space between the two front seats and shut the door. His gaze fixed on the front mirror, where he could see Peng still talking to Zhan.
He opened his bottle of water and took a drink without looking away. That was when he saw Peng step even closer to Zhan, still talking, his face bright with a smile.
Yibo reached out, picked up his phone, and turned it on. He scrolled through his contacts, found Zhan's name, and tapped call. Watching through the mirror, he saw Zhan glance at his phone, turn slightly toward the car, and answer.
Peng was standing right beside him, smiling.
"Hello," Zhan said.
"Mm. Come here," Yibo replied, then ended the call. He tossed the phone back where it was and watched as Zhan spoke briefly to Peng before walking toward him.
Yibo's eyes lingered on Peng, who followed Zhan with his gaze. For a split second, it seemed as if Peng's expression shifted....the warmth of his smile fading, replaced by something Yibo couldn't quite define.
Before he could dwell on it, Zhan opened the car door and got in, greeting him.
Yibo returned the greeting, then turned to look at him properly.
"Why are you out this late?" he asked.
"Sorry!?" Zhan replied, surprise clear on his face.
"I'm talking to you," Yibo said, swallowing slightly.
"We've been out since afternoon. It's for Yufei's wedding preparations. You know that....since you know Duan, the one she's marrying."
Yibo nodded.
"Are you done for today, or is there more?"
"I don't know," Zhan said.
Yibo nodded again.
"And who's that?"
"Peng Ge. Yufei's relative."
Before Yibo could say anything else, someone tapped on Zhan's window. Both of them turned at the same time. It was Peng. Without waiting, Zhan lowered the window.
"Let's go. We're leaving," Peng said, his eyes fixed on Yibo, not on Zhan.
"Okay," Zhan replied.
The moment Yibo heard that, he pressed the central lock. The doors clicked shut. He raised the window on Zhan's side, started the engine, and drove off.... leaving the spot behind.
***
"Qiaoxi..."
In the quiet of the room, Wang Haozhi's voice broke softly as he called his wife's name. She sat at the edge of her bed, her head lowered. This was the third time he had spoken her name, and still she had not looked up....ever since Que left and he came in to find them talking.
He nodded to himself, still watching her.
"It's become very clear to me that you're serious about the path you've chosen," he continued. "It's been two full weeks since I returned from my trip, and I haven't seen you anywhere in this house....not even once. Before now, even when you held onto these beliefs of yours, you still came to me. That's why I've come here myself, to hear you confirm what you truly mean by continuing to live under a man whose worth you don't even recognize."
As he finished speaking, his eyes lingered on her hands as they moved slowly over the fabric of the gown she wore...a deep maroon dress patterned with brown floral lines. The color brought out the glow of her skin, softening her age in the eyes of anyone who looked at her.
Even he, standing there now, was pulled back into memory.
To the time she had entered this house as his bride. To the moment he had believed that by marrying her, he was saying goodbye to every sorrow he had known in marriage....that he would never again experience what he had endured with his first wife.
What he hadn't understood then was that just as every woman is different, so too are the trials or blessings that come with her. What he faced with Qiaoxi was nothing like what he had known before. Perhaps it was something he would carry quietly in his heart for the rest of his life.
After a long pause following his words, she finally lifted her head and looked at him. When their eyes met, he saw it clearly....her eyes were the only thing that had changed. They held no warmth now, none of the familiar light he once knew. They were flat, shadowed, carrying a darkness that only someone she chose to reveal herself to could truly see.
"And I believed I gave you everything that could be called dignity in this world," she said calmly. "I used to think that whenever the word 'honor' or 'integrity' was mentioned, my face would be the first thing that came to your mind. For everything I've done, and everything I continue to do, I don't think that even if you were given a thousand more years, you'd find another woman who would endure you as easily as I have."
He said nothing. She kept her gaze fixed on him.
"Everything happening now is a decision I made for myself and my own heart. The rest of the judgment is yours....just as you've always decided everything according to your own will."
He remained silent, standing where he was, watching her. Only when he was sure she had finished speaking did he respond.
"So it's all because of your son that you're saying these things to me, Qiaoxi?"
She shook her head.
"It's not about my son. It's about the love you separated between a mother and her child. It's about the kind of heart you carry in your chest.... the way you never once looked back at the things you've done, never paused to see the cracks in the structure you believed you were building."
Silence filled Wang Haozhi's mind as he stared at her. Beyond the stillness of the room, there was another, heavier silence echoing inside him. He didn't know how long he stood there, wrestling with the words swirling in his head, before he finally spoke again.
"Qiaoxi... Yibo is dead. He's no longer in this world."
NB
Have a nice weekend, see you on Monday.
Friday, 2nd January.
2026
Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛