When Yibo turned and saw Zhan standing at the doorway, his breath caught in his throat.
Zhan's hair was still damp, his skin glowing with the freshness of a recent shower. The thin shirt clung lightly to him, soft and almost weightless, and for a moment Yibo felt as though his breath...and his sanity...were slipping through his fingers.
He forced himself to breathe, to remember reality and the plans he had already set in motion.
Zhan walked into the kitchen.
"Hello. Hard at work."
His voice came from the side. Before Yibo could reply, Zhan added,
"What are you cooking? What can I help you with?"
Yibo shook his head and pointed toward a chair without looking at him.
"Go sit over there and rest. I'll finish this."
He turned back to his task, but Zhan stepped closer, stopping right in front of him.
"Why won't you let me help? I want to see what you're cooking for us."
Without waiting for permission, Zhan reached toward the pot on the stove. At the same moment, he felt Yibo's hand catch his wrist and pull him back. Yibo set the knife down and turned fully toward him, his grip firm. His breath hitched at the closeness as he said quietly,
"Part of this pretending means doing what I tell you, Zhan. Please."
Zhan studied him, then shook his head.
"We're not pretending. We're just giving it time, like you said, before we talk. But we're not pretending. What we need to discuss is too important to push aside."
Yibo held his gaze for a few seconds, then swallowed, his expression tightening. He lowered his head slightly but didn't release Zhan's wrist.
"If we're not pretending," he murmured, "then why are you looking at me like that?"
The words hung heavy in the air. Zhan swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.
"What kind of look?"
Instead of answering, Yibo's grip softened...but he didn't let go. He hesitated, as if expecting Zhan to pull away, but when Zhan stayed still, Yibo lifted his free hand and touched Zhan's cheek with his thumb. Slowly, gently, he traced the curve of his skin, as though memorizing its softness.
"You're looking at me," he whispered, "like I'm touching you."
Zhan's heart slammed against his chest so hard he was sure Yibo could hear it.
โฟโฟ
The waterfront stretched wide under the night sky, following the ๐๐๐ข ๐๐ข๐ฏ๐๐ซ as it cut through ๐๐๐ข๐ฃ๐ข๐ง๐ toward the ๐๐จ๐ก๐๐ข ๐๐๐. At first glance, you wouldn't even realize water was nearby...the open space was vast, crowded with people, glowing with lights from countless food stalls.
๐๐๐ง, ๐ฐ๐จ๐ฆ๐๐ง, ๐๐ฅ๐๐๐ซ๐ฌ, and ๐๐ก๐ข๐ฅ๐๐ซ๐๐ง filled the area. Some sat on colorful mats, others on the bare ground, and many on low folding beds without backs. Some chatted, others slept despite the noise. Vendors moved through the crowd selling grilled snacks and drinks, their voices blending into the constant hum of the night.
A brief commotion broke out when two men started fighting, drawing attention for a moment, but soon the crowd returned to its own rhythm, curiosity fading as quickly as it had risen.
Near a cluster of barbecue stalls and old parked cars, a roofless car rolled into the open space. Its polished body gleamed under the lights, tires crunching softly as it moved through the crowd. Heads turned everywhere it passed...it looked far too modern for this place.
The car finally stopped beside an old ๐ค๐ข๐จ๐ฌ๐ค, its engine going quiet.
Inside, Zhan turned to Yibo for the third time since they arrived.
"Where are we? What is this place?"
Yibo removed the key and looked at him calmly.
"Relax. Since you're here, you'll find out. For now, just wait. I'll be back."
He held Zhan's gaze as he opened his door. Warm air rushed in, mixing with the lingering scent inside the car...a blend of Zhan's own fragrance and Yibo's cologne. Then Yibo stepped out and closed the door.
Zhan exhaled slowly and hugged himself, unsure what exactly was unsettling him. It wasn't just the lingering stress of Peng and everything that had happened.
It was also the growing confusion over Yibo's intentions....over what he truly felt, and what he was planning to do next.
If he considered how their marriage had happened...how it had come about, the purpose behind it, and how it had almost been arranged without his firm consent....then everything started to make sense.
Beyond the lack of understanding that had kept him silent even after the wedding, beyond the shock of truly learning about everything only recently, and beyond the words he had heard from Yibo's own mouth about the real reason for marrying him...if he put all of it together, it all fit too perfectly.
His thoughts spiraled deeper, tangled in the deception wrapped around Yibo and his words. Those words...how Yibo had told him he wanted him, how he had held him close, how his hands had made him melt under all the affection he showed.
How could he make him believe all of that when it had been lies?
How could he express it so convincingly, so perfectly, that he had trusted him without hesitation....when none of it had been real?
And with that deception weighing on him, combined with the confusion over why Yibo hadn't come to see him again at the hospital after he was dischargedโฆ what exactly was he coming back for?
The help against Peng was already over...he had seen it with his own eyes. Yibo hadn't helped him for his own sake, not for their marriage, not even for his fate and the encounter that could have destroyed his life. He had helped him, and even saved his family, in ways Zhan still didn't fully understand.
If he weighed Yibo's kindness against the weight of that deception, which would be heavier?
That was why, from the moment Yibo took him from home, he had begged him not to discuss everything directly. He endured it, suppressed everything, convinced himself that no matter what, he owed Yibo this...he had to understand how their married life would continue now that the responsibility placed on their marriage from the beginning was over.
And yet, after all that, Yibo disturbed him again....with those words, with the way he held him in the kitchen before they left.
He closed his eyes, memories replaying vividly.
How Yibo had held him, how his body had begun to melt in his grasp, how his heart had pounded when Yibo slowly drew him closer, as if afraid he might slip away if he moved too fast.
He remembered the look in Yibo's eyes....something like dishonesty, something like a plea he couldn't express.
He had wanted to tell him to stop looking at him like that.
To stop making him feel things he should be avoiding.
But the way Yibo's finger had traced his face slowly, silently, made all the thoughts he had gathered crumble.
He stiffened, realizing how much he was revealing about himself.
His breath hitched when Yibo brought his face close.
His heart leapt, every thought scattering.
Their foreheads touched.
Warmth spread through him....so intense it turned into heat.
It felt like it was ๐๐จ๐ง๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ก๐ข๐ฆ.
๐๐๐๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ก๐ข๐ฆ.
๐๐ง๐ฌ๐๐ญ๐ญ๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ก๐ข๐ฆ.
๐๐ก๐๐ญ๐ญ๐๐ซ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ก๐ข๐ฆ.
Their breaths merged. He closed his eyes, whispered prayers, tried to regain control...but within moments, his thoughts collapsed. He pulled back abruptly, trying to rebuild the world that had just fallen apart inside him.
But it was useless. His body trembled, as if separating from what held his breath was tearing him apart.
So his greatest regret wasn't wondering why Yibo had entered his life. His greatest regret was that his heart had already begun to love him....without knowing that the affection Yibo showed him had been a lie.
The sound of the car door opening pulled Zhan back to reality.
He looked up and saw Yibo stepping out, phone in hand. He glanced around, the warm air filling his lungs. He didn't know where they were, but after dinner...when he had barely eaten...Yibo had told him to get ready to go out. His heart had sunk. Wherever this was, it had to be connected to everything between them.
Yibo lowered his head to the phone.
"๐จ๐๐๐๐๐๐. ๐ฐ'๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐."
He ended the call and extended his hand, signaling Zhan to come.
Zhan didn't take it. He stepped out on his own, adjusted the scarf around his neck, and felt Yibo glance at him before closing the car door. An elderly man approached them, his face worn.
"Long life to you. Over there, it's ready," the man said, bowing slightly.
"Thank you," Yibo replied, slipping his phone into his pocket.
He walked toward Zhan and, without a word, took his hand and started walking toward a large building where crowds gathered like scattered fish along the waterfront.
As they entered, people shifted their mats and beds to make way. Smoke and food scents filled the air, tobacco mixing with grilled meat. Fear curled in Zhan's chest.
Where was Yibo taking him?
What was this place?
Who were these people?
He tried to focus on navigating through the crowd but eventually gave up, clinging to Yibo's hand whenever they paused. He didn't even realize when his grip tightened, when he leaned closer to Yibo's body for reassurance.
Finally, they reached the far end.
A single bed stood there, isolated.
In front of it, the water stretched endlessly into darkness.
The noise of the crowd faded, as if they were no longer in the same world. Behind them were lights and people; here, only moonlight and silence.
They stood between two worlds...the people and the water.
Fear crept under his skin, goosebumps rising as the cold air pierced him.
"Welcome to my first homeโฆ Welcome to my first home in your city, Zhan."
Zhan turned to him, shocked.
"Today I'll tell you my history, Zhan. I'll tell you my story...from beginning to end. I'll tell you who I am, and the truth that dragged me to you.
But my truth isn't gentle. It's not beautiful. It cuts. It bleeds. And once you hear itโฆ I'm certain you may never look at me the same way again."
๐๐ซ๐ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ซ๐๐๐๐ฒ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ก๐๐๐ซ ๐๐ข๐๐จ'๐ฌ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐จ๐ซ๐ฒ?
๐๐ซ๐ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ซ๐๐๐๐ฒ ๐๐จ๐ซ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐จ๐ซ๐ ๐ญ๐ซ๐ฎ๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐ก๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐ฏ๐๐ซ๐ฒ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ ๐จ๐ ๐๐๐ญ๐ ๐ข๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐จ๐ซ๐ฒ?
โดโดโด
"๐ฎ๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐'๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐. ๐ฐ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐."....๐๐๐๐
One thing Yibo's heart kept telling him as he sat before Zhan was simple:
Don't look away. He deserves to see your face while you tell him everything. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, grounding himself in the contrast around him, the distant noise of people behind him, and the heavy silence stretching before him. He sat on the ground, facing Zhan, who sat quietly on the bed. The accusation Yibo had seen in Zhan's eyes since they arrived was gone. In its place was something quieter. ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ง๐ข๐ง๐ . ๐๐๐ข๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ .
"My name is Yibo," he began, his voice low. "๐๐๐ง๐ ๐๐๐จ๐ณ๐ก๐ข ๐๐ข๐๐จ. You already know that. My father was originally from Hong Kong....born there, raised there. It wasn't until he grew up that business brought him to Nanjing. He started a timber furniture company there, and it grew fast."
He paused, collecting his thoughts.
"His first wife was also from Hong Kong. They married and had two sons, then separated. After that, he married my mother."
His words were interrupted by the elderly man who approached, carrying a small thermos and a few cups.
"Long life to you," the man said kindly. "I thought you might need some tea."
Yibo inclined his head. "Thank you."
"If you need anything else, I'm nearby," the man added, then walked away, waving once before disappearing into the crowd.
Neither Yibo nor Zhan touched the tea.
"A Bo and I were the first children Mom gave birth to after their marriage," Yibo continued. "I don't know when I realized we were twins, but the moment I understood that, I also understood how different we were."
He looked up and met Zhan's eyes. Surprise flickered across Zhan's face....pure, unguarded.
"A Bo was everything I wasn't. He was talkative, social, bright. He could walk into a room and everyone would notice him. He made friends easily, talked his way out of trouble, solved arguments. People loved him. Everyone did. Even our father."
Something tightened in his throat. He swallowed and kept going.
"I wasn't like that. I wasn't loud, or social, or gentle. Talking to people terrified me. School was the only place I had to go, and even there, A Bo was always ahead....everyone knew him. I was justโฆ there. In his shadow. The only place I surpassed him was in academics."
He let out a slow breath.
"We were six children in total...two older brother's from father's first wife, A Bo, me, and the two younger sister's. But among all of us, I stood apart in our father's eyes. My father was a hard man, Zhan. Rigid. He believed his way was the only correct way. He thought coldness built strength, and affection ruined a child."
A faint, bitter breath left him...half a laugh, half an exhale.
"I was the only one who dared to challenge him. I told him what I wanted. I told him when I thought he was wrong. And that was the beginning of the end for me in his eyes. He started excluding me. He forgot about me unless he had to remember me. He even told Mom something was wrong with my brain and tried to have me evaluated."
He shook his head slightly.
"It turned out it was just my personality. But by then, he had already decided I was defective. He tried to mold me into what he wanted, but it only made me resent him more."
He paused, his gaze lowering.
"I knew I wasn't the son he wanted. There was nothing about me he could brag about. Mom tried...she really tried. I humbled myself for him in every way possible. But he never saw it. He had already painted me as nothing in his mind, and that was all he ever saw. So I grew up believing he didn't love me and never would."
His fingers curled slightly into his palm.
"When we finished high school, he paid only for A Bo's university fees. I refused the course he chose for me. Our school was in Beijing. I ran all the way back to Nanjing to ask him why. The day after I arrived, he came home with people from a rehabilitation center. They took me away and locked me there."
He didn't look at Zhan now.
"He didn't release me until after the exams were over. A Bo came home with his graduation certificate. I came home with scars. I got seriously ill before I recovered. Mom confronted him, but he swear I would never study unless I followed his choice."
His voice dropped further.
"That's how Mom convinced me to give in. A Bo was already studying Law, as Father wanted. And thenโฆ fate arrived."
He looked back up.
"There was a girl in our neighborhood. Banxia. She'd loved A Bo since we were kids. She never stopped chasing him. Her father was close to mine and invested heavily in our business. Nearly half of our family's wealth came from his money."
"I knew A Bo didn't love Banxia. But he never discouraged her either. So everything she did only escalated. After he entered university, their relationship intensified...he started paying her more attention, especially since she was in her final year of high school at the time. I knew they talked often, met oftenโฆ she even started coming to our house. But I didn't understand what it would lead to....until everything happened."
Yibo closed his eyes, then opened them again and looked at Zhan. He studied his expression. Zhan's face remained unchanged....no accusation, no anger. Just quiet attention. Listening.
"One Wednesday, A Bo left early for school. I stayed home that day because I felt strangely unwell. There was no clear illness, justโฆ heaviness. Mom even brought my food to my room, but I couldn't eat. After she left, I lay down again, and sleep overtook me."
His gaze drifted as if he were watching the past unfold again.
"I had chaotic, unpleasant dreams. Then I woke up abruptly. Less than a minute later, my phone rang. It was A Bo."
He exhaled slowly.
"Even before I answered, I could hear the panic in his voice. He begged me to come to him. He said he was in trouble. When he gave me the address....a house near his school...my head spun. I rushed out, grabbed Mom's car keys. After Father gave A Bo a car, Mom gave me hers. He never remembered me enough to even think of giving me one."
He swallowed.
"I don't remember how I reached that house. My body was already telling me something terrible was waiting. When A Bo opened the door, I saw panic in his eyes...real panic, something I had never seen on him before."
His voice grew lower.
"Then A Bo said it. The words that shattered everything."
Yibo looked at Zhan, his gaze distant.
"She's dead. Banxia is dead, Yibo."
His fingers curled slowly.
"But when I entered, she wasn't dead. She was covered in bloodโฆ but she was breathing."
He paused, then continued, his tone steady but heavy.
"A Bo told me everything. He wanted her. He tried to get her consent. She refused. His friend told him to force it. He listened. He used her feelings for him, lured her to his friend's apartment. He gave her a strong sedative after she drank, and then heโฆ did what he wanted."
The words hung in the air like poison.
"He told me she wouldn't wake up. Hours passed. She kept bleeding. His friend panicked and ran. A Bo called me because he didn't know what to do."
Yibo's jaw tightened.
"I waited. She didn't wake up. Her breathing grew weak. So I decided to take her to the hospital. A Bo was hysterical, so I told him to stay behind. I carried her to the car myself."
He lowered his gaze.
"I don't know when Banxia died. Maybe at the house. Maybe on the road. Maybe at the hospital. I waited nearly an hour before a nurse confirmed she was gone."
His voice softened, almost hollow.
"I sat there, frozen. Then A Bo called me. The first thing he asked was whether she had woken up. I couldn't answer. Then a nurse came and said they had to call the police...they suspected sexual assault."
He inhaled sharply.
"A Bo heard everything. The last thing I heard him say wasโฆOh my God.... Then he hung up."
Yibo didn't look up.
"Doctors started questioning me. They said they'd detain me. They had already called her family. I was locked in an office waiting for the police when my phone rang again."
He clenched his hands.
"This time, it wasn't A Bo. It was a stranger. He asked if I was his brother. Then he told me A Bo had been in an accident on the road. He was being taken to the hospital."
Yibo voice wavered, then steadied.
"I don't know how I broke out of that office. I tore the lock off and ran. I saw Banxia's family entering the hospital. They looked at me. They didn't know who I was. They went inside. I went outside."
Yibo stared at the ground.
"I drove like I was insane. When I reached the accident site, there was a crowd around a huge truck. His car was crushed under it. I pushed through. They covered someone with a cloth. I kept telling myself it wasn't him. It couldn't be him."
Yibo breath hitched.
"They uncovered his face."
Yibo stopped speaking.
Not to breathe. Not to think. But because something inside him had struck so hard that words ceased to exist.
Zhan's eyes widened. He saw something breaking in Yibo's eyes, like a dam under unbearable pressure.
Yibo leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingers interlaced tightly.
"I saw him. Lifeless. Not breathing. Not moving. His eyes were open but empty. His face was swollen, blood everywhere. But I knew it was him. A Bo. My twin. My other half."
His chest rose and fell unevenly.
"I shook him. I called him. I begged him to wake up. I begged himโฆ again and again. But he didn't move."
He went silent again.
"Something died in me that night, Zhan. Something left with A Bo soul. And it never came back."
Zhan felt his chest constrict, his breath stolen by pain that wasn't even his. Understanding spread through him like a slow, devastating light.
He watched as Yibo wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, quickly, as if ashamed of them.
But Zhan had already seen.
๐ ๐จ๐ซ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐ข๐ซ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐ญ๐ข๐ฆ๐, ๐๐ข๐๐จ ๐ก๐๐ ๐ฅ๐๐ญ ๐ก๐ข๐ฆ๐ฌ๐๐ฅ๐ ๐๐ ๐ฌ๐๐๐ง...๐ซ๐๐ฐ, ๐ฌ๐ก๐๐ญ๐ญ๐๐ซ๐๐, ๐ฉ๐๐ข๐ง๐๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐ก๐ฎ๐ฆ๐๐ง.
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐โค๐