Author
Long chapter, enjoy because no Drama Of Us today. 😅
Ka Gang entered the room, but Yibo didn't even glance at him. He was sitting at the edge of his bed, next to a drawer, pulling out a sachets of medicine and popping pills one after another.
Ka Gang's eyes stayed on him as he slowly approached the bed. He stood still, arms folded across his chest, watching Yibo throw the pills into his mouth and wash them down with water. Yibo saw him there but said nothing. Instead, he started unbuttoning the thick shirt he wore to ease the heat pressing against him. He shrugged it off and tossed it aside, kicked off his shoes...only his socks left...and lay back on the bed, arms spread, exhausted.
It was only then Ka Gang spoke up.
"Prince Yibo... I think you were a bit harsh kicking Sikong out of the house. After all, he's your blood."
Yibo stared at Ka Gang for a while, saying nothing, before finally speaking, his voice low.
"It was the only decision that made sense. I won't sit back while i fights holding back my desires over and over and he tries to humiliate me. He wants to turn back the clock...but I won't let him."
He exhaled sharply, as if trying to release the pressure inside him. Even the medicine didn't seem to be helping anymore.
"You're right," Ka Gang admitted, "but you still need to be patient. You know His Majesty himself brought you two together..."
"And if he finds out what's happening, he'll only make things worse....for everyone, including me," Yibo cut in.
"Still," Ka Gang continued, "letting him walk out like that... it's like giving him a free pass to do whatever he wants with no one to stop him."
"We'll talk later, please," Yibo said suddenly, rising with urgency. He opened the drawer beside him and pulled out a syringe and a small vial.
At that moment, Ka Gang noticed the bottles Yibo had emptied earlier. He hadn't even returned them properly.
In a flash of anger, Ka Gang snatched the filled syringe from Yibo's hand.
"Are you out of your mind, Prince Yibo?! Have you gone completely insane?!"
Yibo shook his head, looking at him.
"Don't try to stop me, please."
Ka Gang didn't listen. He poured the contents of the syringe onto the carpet, furious. Then he sat beside him, gathering the pills into one place.
"Yibo, are you trying to destroy yourself? Do you know what kind of damage you're doing to your body with these pills and injections? You've become dependent on the shots because the tablets don't work anymore. If you keep this up, one day you'll get married and realize you have no desire left as a man....because you've already killed it with these drugs!"
Yibo looked at him with eyes that had darkened, his voice low and hollow.
"This is the only choice I have... unless you all want me to fall apart completely."
He slid off the bed weakly and disappeared into the bathroom.
Still fully clothed, he turned on the shower. Cold water streamed down from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. For years now, this thing had haunted him....something he couldn't name. He didn't know what he was, what kind of person he was supposed to be. He had always believed marriage was the only cure for his condition, but that door had closed long ago when his mother refused to understand him.
He couldn't bring himself to seek comfort from anyone else. The thought disgusted him. So he turned to medication....not because he wanted to, but because there was no other choice. Not once had he sought romance or experimented with things young people often did to ease the burden. None of it appealed to him. None of it made sense. None of it worked.
He stayed under the water for a long time, despite how cold it was. When he finally returned to his room, Ka Gang had already left. Yibo noticed that all the medicine was gone....even the stash in his drawer. He nudged the drawer shut with his foot, then walked to the switch and turned on the room heater, letting the warmth gradually fill the space. Then he closed the door and changed into soft, thick clothes.
Finally, he collapsed onto his bed, eyes closed, letting the heat seep into his body. But inside, he was still a mess. Nothing felt right. He still couldn't stop thinking about the night he went to the club with Jiang.....the night that left a bitter taste he couldn't shake. All he could think about now was how to make Jiang pay for the disrespect....for taking him that felthy place.
In China
At that moment, Qiantang was lounging in her private sitting room with her best friend, Yun Fai. She sat curled up in a plush single-seater couch, dressed in silky yellow pants and a loose spaghetti-strap top in soft peach. Her long, shiny hair fell over her shoulders. Her legs were tucked up beside her, and next to her was a small table holding a cold drink, some fine glassware, and a plate with a bit of juicy grilled chicken.... clearly just a snack.
Yun Fai was nearby on a thick rug, lying on her stomach with a laptop in front of her, watching a Korean series.
Qiantang's luxurious phone was in her hand. She was scrolling to Prince Yibo's contact....saved under the name "Sweetberry." She closed her eyes for a moment, silently wishing tonight she'd be lucky enough to reach him. Opening her eyes again, she pressed the call button.
Yun Fai, who had been quietly observing her, finally spoke.
"Praying for success with the prince's line, are you?"
Qiantang just placed a finger on Yun Fai's lips, signaling her to be quiet, and turned her attention back to the phone, waiting.
Yibo's heavy eyes opened at the sound of his phone ringing. Unless it was his mother calling, he had no intention of answering. He reached lazily for the phone and glanced at the screen.
"SweetQiantang," it read....the name she had changed herself during one of his visit before he left under the Queen's orders.
Yibo's phone kept ringing beside him, but he had set it to silent because he knew if he picked it up, she'd end up blowing his entire budget. The moment he answered, she'd start that sweet pleading of hers....something he rarely had the strength to resist.
He had no idea how many times she'd called or what happened after that, because he eventually drifted into sleep.
Qiantang sat there, her face scrunched in frustration, on the verge of tears.
"Please, sweetberry, please pick up," she whispered tearfully, her voice trembling. Seeing that she had called him more than twice already...something he'd told her not to do....her best friend Yun Fai could only stare at her in disbelief.
"Qiantang... Are you seriously crying over a guy?" she asked, genuinely shocked. Yun Fai was well aware of the long line of admirers Qiantang had. But Qiantang ignored her, blinking back tears, then stood up and walked to the en suite bathroom. She quickly washed her face, dried it with a small towel, and returned to the room. Instead of sitting where she had before, she picked another chair across the room and sat down with a sigh.
"You're surprised, Yun Fai?" she said, Yun fai pausing the movie they were watching. She shifted in her seat, sitting properly now, her eyes looking distant. "Don't be. We're talking about Prince Yibo here....the only son of the Tianjin Emperor. Even if I hadn't told you anything, you already know Prince Yibo is worthy of being loved in every way. I love him deeply....more than I can even understand myself. And he loves me too. But every time he shows it, I feel like it's some sort of rare blessing I don't deserve...like he's just doing a favour for me.
"What got me attracted to him first was his cuteness, I hate his aloofness and his cold demeanor. But I just don't know how to change him... how to melt that wall."
Yun Fai's hands were clasped together in her lap. She understood exactly what her friend meant. She knew Qiantang was deep in love with Prince Yibo. No matter what anyone said, Qiantang had her own perspective. Everything she said about Prince Yibo was true. But Yun Fai had no more advice to give....so she simply shrugged.
"Well, then... I guess you'll just have to keep tolerating his cold attitude until you get used to it. Maybe in time, when you both belong to each other fully, it'll ease up."
That final sentence brought a small smile to Qiantang's lips, one she couldn't suppress.
"Thank you, bestie. That made me feel better."
Yun Fai smiled back, then returned to lying down. Qiantang picked up her phone again, sent a short message to Yibo, and then called one of the house cooks to bring them lunch.
🔹▪️🔸▫️
From afar, Zhan spotted him and instinctively looked for a place to hide. But it was already too late....he'd been seen.
It was Su Luo, grinning ear to ear, as always. This was the complete opposite of Zhan, whose face was locked in its usual serious expression. Even when Su Luo greeted him with warmth, it was hard to get so much as a fake smile out of Zhan.
As much as Zhan wanted to walk away, he had no choice but to stop. He didn't want Su Luo following him all the way to his street, let alone to his front door.
"Ah, there you are, Zhan! I was just thinking about you. And now....here you are!" Su Luo beamed.
Feeling slightly awkward, Zhan lowered his voice. "Good afternoon."
"Everything's great, my prince... but I guess you didn't miss me, huh?" Su Luo teased.
Zhan shifted slightly. "I'm in a hurry. I need to head home."
Su Luo reached into his pocket and said, "No worries. But when can I stop by for a proper chat? I just returned from a trip....you didn't even ask."
"Hope the trip went well," Zhan said hurriedly, clearly distracted, his mind already at home.
"It did," Su Luo replied, handing over a small package wrapped in a plastic bag. "Here, a little something from me. You can open it and try it before I visit."
Zhan glanced at the gift, then shook his head. "It's okay, really. Thanks," he said, taking a few steps back before walking away quickly.
Su Luo stood still, watching him leave, his mind swirling with thoughts. Zhan was truly different. Everything about him seemed distant. Even Su Luo himself occasionally questioned whether he had a real chance with someone like Zhan. Were they even compatible? But he always brushed those doubts aside, convincing himself that his friends' warnings were just fear talking.
Su Luo didn't move from the spot until Zhan disappeared from view. Only then did he let out a deep sigh and turn to leave the street, already planning when next to approach him. In his mind, Zhan should at least be holding the phone by now....just enough to hear his voice even if they weren't together....that's why he try to give him one.
He was almost lost in thought when he nearly bumped into a friend standing behind him.
The moment their eyes met, his friend smirked.
"That look again? Or were you about to kidnap him and run off with him?"
Su Luo laughed, lightly tapping his friend's shoulder. "Tch, leave me alone, man. That guy's gotten under my skin. I just hope I finally get through to him. He's difficult... reserved. Still hasn't opened up to me enough for me to even understand him."
They began walking side by side.
"That means he's top class. That's how it should be....not someone who just gives everything away from the start like a cheap bargain at the market."
They fist-bumped.
"My guy!"
"Right? I'll just keep trying," Su Luo said, and they both chuckled before continuing their walk, still talking about Zhan and his ever-complicated behavior.
As soon as Zhan stepped into the courtyard of their house, he was met with surprise again. It seemed like something unexpected always awaited him at home. This time, visitors had arrived....his father's relatives. Two of his uncles, his aunt, and his father's late mother's younger sister, who had taken the role of a mother figure since his own mother passed away.
Zhan couldn't even remember the last time any of them had visited just to see the family. Every single time they appeared, it was always for the same reason: his father was getting married.....again. It puzzled him to no end. Didn't they care about his life? Didn't they ever ask themselves if he was doing okay? It was as if their only connection to him was through these ceremonies. Each time, his father would call them over when he decided to marry again, and they would come eagerly, dressed for the celebration.
Zhan couldn't recall any of them ever questioning what had happened to the last woman they'd celebrated with. Why had the previous marriage ended? What went wrong? But the only thing that seemed certain to Zhan was this: his father must have been showering them with money, and they always showed up for their share.
Worn out, he leaned against the freshly painted wall....freshened only for the arrival of the new bride. The courtyard was pristine, but the rooms were left untouched. He dragged himself to a corner of the mat laid out for guests and sat down.
He greeted them politely, as was expected, but there was no warmth or familiarity between them. Even the children knew who the relatives were, but since they rarely saw them, no bond had ever been formed. After offering his greetings, Zhan stood and left. He could hear them commenting on how tall and handsome he had become, but he only threw them a forced smile before heading into the room. He didn't see or hear anything from Fenghua. She had locked herself in her room, overwhelmed with anger and bitterness. Ever since she gave them the mat for the guests, she hadn't come out again.
To his surprise, later that night, steaming food was brought out and a call was made for everyone to come eat. Zhan remained where he was seated, unmoved. Instead, he sent the children to collect the food, telling them to eat and sleep. He silently watched them finish their meals, still not saying a word, until his father called him. Only then did he rise quietly, picked up a plate, and stepped outside.
"You know, Yun, you never really moved on from YunJun," said one of the relatives, referring to Zhan's late mother. "You lost a truly good woman."
"Mm, it's true," Xiao Yun agreed. "YunJun was a blessing. I still don't know how to repay everything she did. She had a heart of gold....I knew that even before she passed."
Zhan remained silent, crouched as one of the women served him food. He took the plate and returned to his room without a word.
As he placed the food down, thoughts of his late mother flooded his mind. Memories of his mother and the warmth of her presence overcame him. He longed to hold her again, to tell her his worries. But he knew it was too late. What had been taken could never be returned. Now, all that remained was patience, acceptance, and memories wrapped in quiet prayer.
🔹▪️🔸▫️
He stepped out of his room calmly, dressed in a white, long-sleeved shirt with a closed neckline. The shirt hugged his body, even though it was slightly thick. His trousers were also white, ending just below the knee, despite the chilly weather. His face looked fresh, showing no trace of the anger he had earlier, though the usual sternness and aloof demeanor still clung to him.
His heart felt lighter. During his nap, he had a dream that brought him a sense of relief. He walked straight toward the sitting room, phone in hand, dialing Qiantang's number. He knew her well....she was likely worried by now.
Two people sat in the sitting room....Jiang and Ka Gang....watching TV. Their eyes met for a brief moment before Jiang quickly looked away, visibly uncomfortable. Yibo shot him a look that Jiang understood all too well. He knew he was in the wrong. Without another word, Yibo turned and headed to the kitchen.
There, he found some food...he could tell Ka Gang had made it. Ka Gang was the only one in the entire house with the patience to cook for them all. But today, Yibo had no appetite, not for anything. Instead, he made himself a cup of hot coffee and poured it into a stylish small thermos that looked more like a teapot. He picked up two cups and placed a small plate of meat....brought from his home in China....next to it before returning to the sitting room.
As he was about to sit, Ka Gang spoke up.
"You're finally out."
Yibo just nodded, exactly at the moment Qiantang answered his call. As he had expected, she burst into dramatic sobs the moment she picked up. He closed his eyes and listened patiently, letting her vent. When she began to calm down, he gently interrupted her in a softer voice than usual, his body still feeling drained, unlike the energy he was known for. Even Ka Gang sitting beside him couldn't hear what he said.
"Don't stress yourself, sweetberry... Any time you call and I don't pick up, know I have a reason. I'll always check your calls and call back. I made that clear, didn't I?" He ended with a question.
After a little more chatting.....though not for long....he told her he still wasn't feeling great, but that once he rested again and woke up, he'd feel better and would call her.
He ended the call, took a sip from his cup, and calmly began to eat his meat.
Jiang grew more tense with Yibo's silence. Trying to get his attention, he called out gently,
"Prince?"
No response.
A few minutes passed. He tried again.
"Prince."
Yibo set down his cup without looking at him and said,
"This is the last time, Jiang. Don't ever repeat what you did today."
"What? Just because I did something to help you?" Jiang tried to defend himself.
Yibo finally turned to him, eyes sharp.
"To hell with your help. I don't want it. Don't ever do that again."
Jiang knew Yibo was truly angry now. Suppressing a laugh, he raised both hands in surrender.
"Alright, alright. It won't happen again. I'm so sorry."
Yibo looked away, stood calmly, and walked toward the socket near the entertainment system to unplug his laptop charger. He wanted to use it in his room.
"But Prince... about Sikong. Please let it go. Let him came back."
Yibo turned slightly, face cold.
"Your clown of a friend?" Jiang chuckled nervously and shook his head.
"No... but now that you've kick him, maybe he'll change."
"Not anytime soon," Yibo replied and walked off to his room without sparing him another glance.
"Prince the stubborn. Prince the hard-headed. This man..." Jiang muttered as he jumped to where Yibo had been sitting. He grabbed the leftover tea and began sipping it, munching on the rest of the meat.
Ka Gang raised an eyebrow.
"He's just telling you the truth. Both of you should try to change....if not for him, at least for your own dignity."
"We'll change, but not now. I don't see the point yet. I'm young, rich, and handsome...why should I not enjoy life while I can? It's just his ability to act so cold that gets to me," Jiang replied.
Ka Gang just stared at him silently, as if he had already given up on the two of them. It was clear now....they had reached a point where they no longer responded to calls for change. Only a divine touch could move them now.
💚🦁❤️🐰💛🐢
It was a high-end club reserved for the elite....youths from various countries, all from wealthy, influential families. In a secluded section of the club, a group of five young men sat around a sleek table with five chairs. Each seat was occupied, but it was the man in the center who stood out the most.
He sat calmly, puffing out thick clouds of white smoke that rose and hung in the air like fog, heavy and unmoving, almost as if someone had lit damp firewood and left it smoldering. The table in front of him was cluttered with the remains of several smokes, ashes scattered everywhere, and bottles of drinksnone of which seemed remotely non-alcoholic.
"Sikong... cut that smoke already. You're puffing like a generator," one of the guys said with a mix of concern and curiosity. "Tell us what's going on. You've been quiet for too long."
Sikong took one last drag and extinguished the smoke on the table, adding to the mess already there. He exhaled deeply, sending another cloud upwards before adjusting his seat and speaking.
"Imagine this-me, me, getting kicked out of my own house by Prince?"
"What?!" they all exclaimed in unison, staring at him in disbelief.
Humiliation flared again in Sikong's chest. It stung worse in front of these guys, who admired him mostly because Yibo, the so-called Prince, was his blood cousin.
"But... isn't he your cousin?" one of them asked.
Sikong nodded. "He is. But he still did this to me," he said bitterly.
Another one of the boys lit up his own smoke and took a long drag. "Honestly, I never liked that guy. There's just something about him. He's too polished, like everything in life was handed to him. But Sikong, you can't let this go. You've got to fight back. Don't let it slide."
Sikong nodded slowly. That was exactly what had consumed his thoughts for the past two nights-how to bring Yibo down. If he succeeded, they would finally be free to act as they pleased, without Yibo's stiff presence looming over them.
"I know his weak point," Sikong said with a cruel smile. "I swear I'll take revenge. He's always acting righteous, but let's see how he handles a little chaos."
He smacked his hand down on the table. The others caught on immediately, laughter erupting around the group. One of them added, "Man, if we can pull this off and he ends up joining us, we'll be unstoppable. We'll be the real big boys."
"Exactly."
"But I haven't heard anything solid about how you plan to trap him. Don't forget who we're dealing with-this is Prince Yibo," someone reminded.
Sikong nodded, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "I know him better than anyone here. I've mapped everything out. The only way to break him is with a woman. But not just any woman-she has to be powerful, confident, and able to handle him. That's where the problem lies... I haven't found the right one yet."
Silence fell over the group as they digested the plan. This was the tricky part.
"Wait-hold on... I just remembered someone. Meng Zi!" one of them suddenly exclaimed, leaning forward in excitement.
"Who's Meng Zi?" Sikong asked, lifting a brow.
"She's the girl who's been all over Prince. Everyone saw it. She couldn't even hide it-told him directly she liked him. He humiliated her in public. I'm telling you, if we go to her with this, she'll be in."
"What's she like?" Sikong asked, intrigued.
The guy smirked. "Meng Zi's stunning. And when I say stunning, I mean next level."
"Perfect," Sikong said with a grin just as his phone rang. He frowned and pulled it out-it was his mother. He answered.
"I tried reaching His Majesty to report what's happening," his mother said on the other end, "but he's traveling and won't be back until tomorrow. Still, he must hear about this. How could he let this happen-your own cousin throwing you out just because his mother put some pressure on him? When I confronted her about it, she only said she'd 'look into it.' What investigation? Into what?"
"Forget them, Mom," Sikong replied coldly. "I swear I'll take revenge for this. I've already planned everything. Don't worry."
"Whatever you do, don't do anything that will seriously harm him," she warned.
"Don't worry. We'll talk later," Sikong said, ending the call and turning back to his friends. They continued plotting how they would execute their plan.
▫️🔸▪️🔹
That morning was rather quiet in their house. Zhan didn't skip school or work-he saw no reason to. Nothing seemed different to him about the situation, and frankly, he didn't know what else to do by staying home.
When he returned later, the house was nearly empty except for a few people who had brought the bride. He wandered through the courtyard, staring at the mess of food scattered around. It unsettled him deeply. That amount of food, if gathered properly, could have fed the family for days-yet their father had never been able to provide them enough. But for the sake of a wedding, food now flowed freely, even beyond the house. Disgusted, he walked past the scene and went inside.
He was relieved to find Que had gathered his younger siblings and kept them confined to a room. When he entered, Zhan tried to keep a neutral expression, handling everything quietly until he got them all to bed. Fortunately, they all fell asleep quickly. Because of that, they were unaware of the scandalous moment when Xiao Yun entered the house carrying the bride's chicken, without Fenghua's presence. It took serious effort for Batulu and the others to calm things down. Meanwhile, Xiao Yun danced off to his bride's room like it was the happiest day of his life.
The new bride spent her first week living in luxury, acting more like a pampered princess than a newlywed. For those seven days, the house knew no hunger or thirst. Meals were cooked three times a day, and everyone ate to their fill. Despite being new, the bride insisted on cooking separately, refusing to prepare meals with the others. She began making her own meals-without question. Every day brought new tension between Xiao Yun and Fenghua over groceries, as Xiao Yun only shopped for the bride's food. Her soups were always richer, tastier, and heavier than everyone else's.
Gradually, life in the house continued that way, with no real change. In fact, the burden on Zhan grew heavier. A few days later, Xiao Yun stopped providing food for the rest of the family altogether-only buying for his bride.
After just one week, His Majesty summoned Yibo and insisted he return home. So, Yibo packed up and came back-but that didn't stop him from pursuing his secret plans.
Meanwhile, Meng Zi tried everything she could to pull Yibo closer, to involve him in her schemes just as Sikong had planned. But it didn't work. No matter what she tried-seduction, cleverness, manipulation-Yibo remained unmoved. Eventually, she gave up and told Sikong the truth.
"Just let it go," she said. "The Prince is beyond anything we anticipated. I think it's time you stepped back and focused on something else."
Furious, Sikong slammed his hand on the bench before them.
"You don't get it! If Yibo becomes an outcast, then no one in this country's history will match what we're planning. We'll achieve everything-power, wealth, dominance. But if we fail at this, I have another plan. Since he's so stubborn, I'll ruin him. I'll tarnish his image in front of everyone. If he thinks he's someone important, I'll bury his reputation so deep that shame will keep him from showing his face again. In the end, I'll destroy every plan his family has for him in their royal lineage. Now, are you in or not? Name your price-I'll pay."
Meng Zi stayed quiet, eyes locked on Sikong. She was stunned. Something told her this wasn't just about revenge for being kicked out of the house. There had to be something deeper, a long-standing grudge between him and the Prince.
Still watching him carefully, she asked, "But... it feels like you've had this plan for a while-long before what happened recently. Is this really about being thrown out?"
He raised a hand to stop her. "That's none of your business. Just tell me if you'll do it, and name your price."
She smiled coldly, sizing him up. To her, Sikong seemed small-smaller than ever before for saying such a thing.
"I'm not accepting your contract for money-I don't need it. I agreed because it interested me. But now, I'm no longer interested in your scheme. Find someone else." She stood up, slung her bag over her shoulder, to walked away.
He watched her carefully, realizing she was serious about leaving. And if she left, he had no idea where they'd find someone like her again. More importantly, he needed privacy-too many people knowing about this would strip away all secrecy.
"Wait... Meng Zi, please listen to me"
She turned back and looked at him intently. Then slowly, she walked back to her seat and sat down, fixing her eyes on him as a sign that she was listening.
He cleared his throat slightly and adjusted his posture, leaning a little closer so she would hear him clearly.
"Even if you don't need money... you still want the Prince, right?"
She nodded.
"Of course."
"Good. Then let me tell you something I'm certain about. Even if it's not one hundred percent, it's at least 99.9% true."
They both fell quiet for a moment before he continued.
"Whoever manages to take control of Yibo emotionally-pulls him into this world of desire-she's the one who will remain with him. Even if Yibo is just having fun, it'll be different. It won't be like with anyone else. Do you know why?"
She shook her head, giving him her full attention again.
"He's arrogant. You know that. He prides himself on being untouchable. He believes no woman can distract him, let alone make him fall in love or lead him into the emotional trap we're trying to set. So what happens? He'll hide whatever feelings he starts developing just to avoid ridicule. He'll try to keep it a secret by being with just one woman. And besides that... Yibo is extremely picky. He has a strong aversion to many things and people. So think about it. If you're willing to hand over this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to someone else... fine."
As he finished, he leaned back in his chair and stared at her, hoping his words would sink in. If they succeeded in ruining Yibo, they would certainly be contenders for taking over the Tianjin throne-just as the country's law allowed when a prince with authority fell due to scandal or disgrace.
Meng Zi mulled over his words, and more than half of her heart already said yes-even without money-because having Prince Yibo to herself was the ultimate reward.
"I can do it," she finally said.
He smiled.
"Great. Then we'll talk soon. I'll tell you exactly how everything will go-day, time, all of it."
With that, they said goodbye. She picked up her small handbag and left the place.
🔹▪️🔸▫️
It was a gentle morning, calm and full of soft, comforting air in the heart of New York, just as the Prince stepped out of the bathroom connected to his bedroom. He glanced at the clock to check how much time he had left before lectures began, then looked away and resumed drying his slightly damp skin with the small towel in his hand, a larger one still wrapped around his waist.
He paused, scanning the room. Something felt off, like it wasn't the same as when he entered the bathroom earlier. It felt like something had changed. Carefully, he walked around, inspecting everything with focus, but saw nothing out of place. So, he headed for the mirror, picked up a soft, fragrant lotion, and began rubbing it into his skin, clicking his tongue in irritation as he remembered that only three of them had stayed in the apartment last night. And when he had gone to the kitchen that morning to get some hot water, everyone was already gone. It seemed they all had early lectures.
After applying the lotion, he carefully styled his hair with various grooming oils-almost like a model-then moved to his wardrobe to choose what to wear.
He dressed entirely in white, including his wristwatch. Then he returned to the mirror and sprayed himself with cool, calming perfumes. He grabbed what he needed from his bedside table, including some documents he'd reviewed the night before, and finally stepped out, locking his room securely.
He rarely left his room open, especially when he knew he'd be out for a while. He was someone who liked order and privacy. You'd never catch his door wide open-even if he was inside, the door was always just slightly ajar, never flung open for anyone to walk in freely.
Just as Yibo was about to leave his corridor, his phone rang. A small smile crept onto his face when he saw the caller - it was Xielin, his close friend and the son of the Prime Minister of His Majesty, Prime Minister Yunchung. From the tone of his voice, it was clear they were familiar and close. Yibo answered and continued speaking as he stepped into the sitting room.
As expected, the room was empty. He stood still, engaged in the call until it ended. A sound coming from the kitchen caught his attention. He turned just as Sikong emerged, carrying a medium-sized tray with two cups and two plates holding toasted bread.
Sikong approached with a smile and said,
"I thought you'd already left."
"I was about to. You're the only one still in the house," Yibo replied.
"Yeah, I'm almost ready to leave too. Just wanted a quick breakfast. Come join me," Sikong said as he set the tray down.
Yibo stared at the tea and toast, surprised. He knew Sikong to be extremely lazy, the kind who'd usually grab a bite and rush out. Seeing him this prepared was unusual. He was about to comment but changed his mind, walking over instead and picking up one of the cups - the other was already in Sikong's hand.
He took a sip of the tea and then settled into a chair. He never liked drinking while standing.
"Okay, I'm on my way," Sikong suddenly said into his phone. He quickly set his cup down, grabbed some toast, shoved it into his mouth, and looked at Yibo.
"Prince, I'm heading out."
Yibo simply nodded without saying a word as Sikong rushed out, finishing his tea in silence.
Calmly, Yibo walked out to where his sleek, convertible sports car was parked. He opened the door, slid into the seat, and prepared to start the engine - but then he paused.
"Oh my God... what's happening?" he whispered, gripping the steering wheel.
A strange sensation surged through his body. It wasn't pain, but a wave of discomfort and unfamiliar energy, raising goosebumps on his skin. An overwhelming heaviness settled over him, like exhaustion from years of nonstop labor.
He sat there for five minutes, hoping it would pass - but the feeling only intensified. A growing unease settled in his chest, even bordering on fear. With effort, he turned off the engine, removed the key, and stepped out, unsteady on his feet.
Clutching his sides, he unlocked the front door and staggered into the house. Barely managing to reach his room, he collapsed onto his bed, his body trembling, senses fogging. Every nerve felt drained, and the strange sensation deepened, almost as if he were on the brink of unconsciousness.
At that moment, Sikong emerged from his hiding spot and made his way to the sitting room - the same room Yibo had just left. The door was still slightly open, so Sikong pushed it closed gently, then headed straight to the kitchen.
Meng Zi was seated on one of the three high stools in the kitchen, holding her phone, clearly chatting with someone. She wore a revealing outfit that left little to the imagination, her perfume saturating the room.
Sikong stood for a moment, staring at her, licking his lips. He wished it were him she was dressed for. The moment she sensed movement, she lifted her head. Their eyes met - she glared at him in disgust.
She hated the way he ogled her. He'd been trying to get her attention for ages, but she'd already figured him out. He wasn't her type. In her eyes, he didn't even come close. Not now, not ever - especially not when her entire attention was consumed by Yibo. No one else existed to her anymore.
Pretending to ignore her glare, Sikong stepped closer and said in a low voice,
"Everything's ready. He's in his room now, and judging by his condition, there's no way he'll resist our trap. I wish you all the best."
With that, he turned and walked out of the kitchen.
Meng Zi didn't hesitate. She followed quickly, only for Sikong to stop her. He picked up his laptop - already set up with a camera hidden in the metal frame beneath the netted canopy above Yibo's bed. The camera was live. On the screen, Yibo could be seen curled up on the bed, drenched in sweat, eyes tightly shut, his body trembling.
A quiet, sinister laugh escaped Sikong as he whispered,
"Your time starts now."
Meng Zi said nothing and walked off toward the bedroom.
Sikong pulled out his phone and dialed his mother. She picked up on the third ring.
"Mom, it's all set. It's starting now. Just pray it goes as planned."
"Good luck, son. If this succeeds, everything afterward will be easy. Destroying Queen Zaiye and everything she holds dear will be our biggest victory. May success follow. Keep me posted."
"Okay, Mom," he said, ending the call. He turned back to the laptop screen, watching intently, eyes half-closed in anticipation, sinking back into the chair.
He couldn't wait to enjoy the show - knowing the video and images would ruin Yibo and his mother's reputation in the entire Tianjin Palace forever.
Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛