At last, Yang-Yang stood up and went back into the room. Seeing how Zhan had curled himself into a tight ball on the bed, he walked closer and asked softly,
"Are you cold?"
Zhan didn't answer-his eyes were closed.
Yang-Yang picked up the duvet and gently covered him. In a faint voice, Zhan murmured,
"Thank you..."
Yang-Yang paused, watching him for a moment, even though Zhan still hadn't opened his eyes. Then he turned and left the room, heading out to the balcony. He sat there, staring at his car in the parking space.
His mind wasn't at rest.
Part of him was thinking about his mother... the other part about Zhan.
Was he really this heartless?
He stood up eventually, realizing he hadn't even showered, and it was already close to 2 PM. He walked toward his car-but then stopped.
Could he really leave him alone like this?
After a brief hesitation, he turned back and went inside.
When he entered the room again, he found Zhan on the floor, retching violently.
Yang-Yang froze at the doorway, watching.
Zhan broke into tears, gasping for breath.
Without a word, Yang-Yang pulled out his phone and stepped outside.
About fifteen minutes later, he returned-with Dr Yun following behind him.
Zhan slowly opened his eyes from where he lay on the floor. Dr Yun was already beside him, placing a hand on his forehead, while Yang-Yang stood nearby.
"Hey... how are you feeling?" Dr Yun asked gently.
Zhan couldn't answer; his mouth felt too heavy.
"What do you feel like eating?" Dr Yun continued.
Zhan shook his head weakly.
Dr Yun glanced at Yang-Yang.
"Make him a cup of plain tea. No additives."
Yang-Yang left immediately and returned shortly with a cup of warm black tea.
Dr Yun helped Zhan sit up and gently urged him to drink.
Zhan's voice trembled as tears slipped down.
"It'll make me throw up..."
"Just a little," Dr Yun insisted.
Zhan took small sips, trying to keep it down. Each time he tried to lie back, Dr Yun stopped him until he had taken about half the cup.
Finally, Dr Yun let him rest.
But moments later, all the strength Zhan had gathered disappeared-he suddenly leaned forward and vomited everything onto the tiled floor.
Yang-Yang turned away instinctively, then slowly turned back.
Dr Yun sighed, then said calmly,
"Get up. Go rinse your mouth."
Zhan struggled to stand, dizzy, and made his way to the bathroom.
While he was inside, Yang-Yang silently cleaned up the mess.
Dr Yun sat on the edge of the bed, preparing an IV line and injections.
When Zhan returned, he lay down again. Dr Yun administered the injections and set up the drip.
Zhan was so weak he barely felt the needle.
Dr Yun covered him properly, then stepped out with Yang-Yang.
:
:
Zhan didn't know how long he slept.
When he woke up, the room was dim-night had already fallen. He glanced at his hand; the IV still looked fresh.
With effort, he sat up.
After several minutes, the door opened.
Yang-Yang walked in and switched on the light.
"You're awake?" he asked.
Zhan nodded.
"How do you feel?"
"A bit better..."
"What do you want to eat?"
Zhan hesitated, then said softly,
"I need to use the bathroom."
Yang-Yang nodded, carefully removing the IV line.
"Be careful. Don't let water get into it."
Zhan nodded again, then slowly stood up, steadying himself before heading into the bathroom.
When he came back, Yang-Yang asked again,
"What do you want to eat?"
Zhan stayed quiet.
The only thing on his mind was a simple meal Diwa once made for them back at Yibo's house.
Seeing his silence, Yang-Yang stepped closer.
"Tell me. I'll go get it."
Zhan finally looked at him, then lowered his gaze.
"Dan wake."
"What is it?"
Zhan gave a faint, tired smile.
"It's something Diwa made once... I don't think you'd find it here. It's... a local African Nigerian dish. Diwa ones lived in there and if you brows, you can see how it looks and how to prepare it. But it's late, so forget it "
Yang-Yang stared at him for a moment, then turned and walked out without another word.
Before leaving, he paused at the door and looked back.
"I don't even know your name."
Zhan hesitated, then said quietly,
"Xiao Zhan."
Yang-Yang nodded slowly.
"I'll call you... Meilin."
Zhan's heart clenched instantly.
"That's my mother's name," Yang-Yang added, before leaving.
As soon as the door closed, Zhan broke down into tears again.
Something about that name hurt deeply.
He didn't even realize how long he cried until Yang-Yang returned.
Seeing him like that, Yang-Yang frowned.
"What happened? Why are you crying?"
Zhan's voice trembled.
"Please... don't call me Meilin. I don't like it..."
Yang-Yang looked at him in surprise, then nodded slowly.
"Alright. I won't."
He opened the food container he brought and served it.
"Which oil do you prefer, red oil or Olive oil?" he asked.
Zhan wiped his tears.
"Olive oil..."
Yang-Yang added a little and placed the plate in front of him.
Zhan ate quietly-plain, without adding anything else. Surprisingly, he managed to eat a decent amount, though he avoided drinking water.
Yang-Yang noticed.
"Why aren't you drinking?"
"I might throw up... maybe warm water will help."
Yang-Yang studied him for a moment, then left and returned shortly with warm water.
This time, Zhan drank-and thankfully, he didn't vomit.
Yang-Yang watched him rinse his mouth, then carefully reconnected the IV.
Zhan looked at him curiously.
"Are you a doctor?"
Yang-Yang shook his head.
"No. But many of my friends are."
He stepped back after finishing.
"Do you need anything? Anything at all?"
Zhan shook his head.
Suddenly, Yang-Yang's phone rang.
He checked the screen quickly and answered, sitting at the edge of the bed.
"Mom... I'm on my way. I just stopped for something. I'll be there soon."
After hanging up, he stood.
"I have to go home now. Dr Yun will send a nurse to stay with you."
Zhan nodded softly.
"Thank you..."
"No need," Yang-Yang replied, before leaving the room.
About fifteen minutes later, a woman-no older than thirty-entered.
She walked up to Zhan with a gentle smile.
"How are you feeling?"
"I'm better..."
"Do you need anything?"
Zhan shook his head.
"Alright. Get some rest."
Zhan lay down again.
Throughout the night, the nurse checked on him occasionally, adjusting the drip and monitoring him. Despite the treatment, the fever still lingered.
By early morning, the IV was removed.
Zhan managed to go to the bathroom, brush his teeth, and take a bath-but he was too weak to stand properly. Dizziness and chills overwhelmed him.
Eventually, he gave up trying and lay down on the carpet.
Moments later, he felt someone shaking him gently.
He opened his eyes weakly.
The nurse was standing over him.
"You bathed?" she asked.
Zhan nodded weakly.
"Cold water?" the nurse asked.
He shook his head. "There was warm water... from the heater."
"Alright, get back on the bed," she said gently.
With her help, Zhan returned to the bed. She covered him properly, then left the room.
A little before eight, Zhan felt a hand on his forehead and opened his eyes quickly. It was Dr Yun, standing beside him.
"How are you feeling?"
Zhan slowly sat up, adjusting his shirt.
"Good morning..."
"Morning. How's your body?"
"A bit better..." he murmured, lowering his gaze.
Dr Yun turned to the nurse.
"He still has a running temperature."
"Yes, since he bathed early this morning," she replied.
Dr Yun looked back at Zhan.
"Did you use cold water?"
Zhan shook his head again.
Dr Yun turned to the nurse.
"Go to the car-I brought some drips and injections from the clinic."
"Okay, sir."
She left immediately.
Zhan lifted his head slightly and noticed Dr Yun staring at him. Dr Yun quickly looked away, shook his head, and walked toward the window, pulling the curtains aside.
Just then, the door opened.
Yang-Yang walked in. He was dressed casually, but his strong perfume instantly filled the room.
Zhan subtly covered his nose.
Yang-Yang only glanced at him once before walking over to Dr Yun.
After greeting each other, Dr Yun asked,
"How's your mom?"
"They're all fine. You just coming from the clinic?"
Dr Yun shook his head.
"No, I'm heading there now."
"How is he?" Yang-Yang asked.
Before Dr Yun could answer, Yang-Yang stepped closer to Zhan.
"You're awake?"
Zhan nodded.
"Good morning..."
"Morning. Why do you look uncomfortable?"
Zhan hesitated, then said softly,
"The perfume..."
Yang-Yang clicked his tongue slightly, exchanging a look with Dr Yun.
At that moment, the nurse returned with the items Dr Yun had requested.
After greeting Yang-Yang, she stepped aside.
Yang-Yang looked back at Zhan.
"What do you want to eat?"
Zhan shook his head.
"I'm not hungry..."
"But you need to eat something."
He gestured to the nurse, who quickly prepared a mild cup of tea.
The moment Zhan saw the cup, his stomach churned. Tears welled up in his eyes.
"I said I'm not hungry... please," he said weakly.
Dr Yun stood quietly by the window, watching.
Yang-Yang took the tea himself and handed it to Zhan, his expression firm.
"Take it."
Zhan closed his eyes, held his breath, and brought it close to his lips-but couldn't drink.
When he opened his eyes, Yang-Yang was still staring at him, unyielding.
Zhan turned his face away.
"Please... I'll throw up."
"Drink it-even if you throw up."
Zhan said nothing.
The nurse added softly,
"Try a little."
Still, Zhan didn't move.
Suddenly, Yang-Yang's voice hardened.
"Are you trying to make things difficult?"
Startled, Zhan immediately took a sip.
But the moment it touched his throat, nausea hit him. He jumped off the bed, rushing toward the bathroom.
The nurse quickly took the cup from him and followed, helping him clean up and steady himself.
When they returned, Zhan looked completely drained. He sat on the edge of the bed before lying down again, breathing heavily.
Yang-Yang watched silently.
Dr Yun still said nothing. He walked over, picked up the IV fluids, and began preparing another drip.
Once everything was set, he turned to Yang-Yang.
"I'll be heading out now."
Yang-Yang nodded and followed him outside.
That day, Yang-Yang practically stayed around. Even when he left, he kept coming back.
The nurse left around noon.
Each time Yang-Yang entered the room, Zhan would wake from sleep. Sometimes he would ask how he was feeling; other times, he would simply glance at him and walk out again.
Since the small meal Yang-Yang had bought earlier, Zhan refused to eat anything else. Even that had unsettled him.
Close to evening, the door opened again.
Yang-Yang entered with Dr Yun.
Yun asked about his condition, and Zhan greeted him quietly.
Then Yang-Yang said,
"I think tomorrow we'll go to Beijing."
Zhan looked at him, surprised-but nodded.
Dr Yun frowned slightly.
"Why not let him recover first? He's still very sick."
Yang-Yang moved toward the door.
"No. He's leaving tomorrow. How long am I supposed to keep him here?"
He paused, then added,
"Or is he planning to stay forever?"
Without waiting for a reply, he walked out.
Dr Yun watched him leave, then turned back to Zhan.
"What's your name?"
"Zhan..." he answered softly.
Dr Yun studied him.
"Are you sure you're not lying about yourself?"
Tears filled Zhan's eyes as he shook his head.
"I'm not lying..."
That night, the nurse stayed with him again.
By morning, a little after seven, Yang-Yang arrived.
He sat in the living room after placing a flask on the table. After greeting the nurse, he said,
"Please get him ready. We're leaving soon."
The nurse prepared warm water for Zhan. After bathing, he came out shivering slightly.
She placed one of the outfits Yang-Yang had bought for him on the bed along with lotion, then stepped out.
With effort, Zhan dressed up and covered himself properly.
"Come out, he's waiting," the nurse said when she returned.
Zhan followed her slowly.
She handed him a cup of warm porridge.
Zhan looked at it for a moment, then raised his eyes to Yang-Yang.
"Good morning..."
"How are you feeling?"
"Better..."
Carefully, Zhan began drinking. He was afraid of vomiting-but this time, he managed.
After finishing about half, he stopped.
"That's enough..."
Yang-Yang stood up.
"I'll be outside. Lock the door when you come."
Then he left.
The nurse locked up and led Zhan outside to the car.
She handed the key to Yang-Yang, who was already seated inside.
"Get in," he said simply.
The nurse sat in the front seat, while Zhan sat quietly at the back.
After leaving the house, Yang-Yang stopped briefly to lock the gate properly, then continued driving.
At a junction, the nurse got down after thanking him. He handed her transport money before driving off again.
As the journey began, Zhan grew increasingly restless.
Yang-Yang noticed through the mirror but said nothing.
After a while, Zhan whispered,
"I feel like vomiting..."
"Vomiting?"
Zhan quickly covered his mouth.
Yang-Yang pulled over immediately.
Zhan rushed out and vomited by the roadside.
Yang-Yang stepped out, leaning against the car, arms folded as he watched quietly.
When Zhan finished, gasping for air, Yang-Yang took a bottle of water from the front seat and handed it to him.
Zhan rinsed his mouth and face before standing again, head lowered.
Yang-Yang gestured to the front seat.
"Sit here."
Zhan obeyed.
Yang-Yang adjusted the seat for him and resumed driving.
After a long stretch of road, Zhan fell asleep.
Yang-Yang glanced at him occasionally before pulling over again. He removed his suit jacket and gently covered Zhan with it.
Zhan stirred slightly, opening his eyes, but Yang-Yang simply continued driving.
When they reached traffic, Zhan woke up.
"Do you want to eat something?" Yang-Yang asked.
Zhan shook his head quickly.
"An apple?"
Zhan hesitated, glancing at a vendor by the roadside.
Yang-Yang rolled down the window, bought several apples, and placed them beside him.
Zhan slowly picked one, chewing carefully, afraid of nausea.
He managed half... then one... then two-without vomiting.
Soon after, sleep took him again.
He didn't wake until they reached Beijing around mid-afternoon.
As Zhan opened his eyes, Yang-Yang glanced at him.
"Which area is Yibo's house?"
Zhan answered softly.
Yang-Yang said nothing, navigating slowly through traffic.
Within twenty minutes, they entered the area.
Zhan guided him quietly until they stopped right in front of the house.
Yang-Yang turned to look at him.
Yang-Yang stepped out of the car and looked at him.
"Come down."
Slowly, Zhan stepped out, his heart pounding hard against his chest. Yang-Yang walked toward the gate, and Zhan followed behind him like someone afraid of the ground itself.
At first, the gatekeeper, Han, stopped him to ask who he was looking for. But the moment he saw Zhan, his expression changed completely.
"Zhan?!"
Zhan forced a faint smile and greeted him.
By then, Yang-Yang had already entered the compound. Zhan hurried after him.
Han called out behind him, still shocked, "You've made everyone worried sick! They've been searching everywhere-even reported it at the station. Mrs Wang has been so restless... Thank goodness you've finally shown up."
Zhan didn't respond. His eyes drifted to the parking area, his heart tightening when he noticed that neither Yibo's car nor Mrs. Wang's was there.
Yang-Yang pressed the doorbell at the entrance-once... twice... three times-before the door finally opened.
Lihua stood at the doorway, clearly just waking up. The moment her eyes landed on Zhan standing beside Yang-Yang, they widened sharply. Fear flashed across Zhan's face.
Yang-Yang studied her briefly and guessed who she was.
"Hello."
Lihua responded stiffly, "Yes?"
Then she turned to Zhan, her expression hardening.
"Where have you been? And who are you people looking for?"
"We're here for Yibo," Yang-Yang replied calmly as he stepped into the living room.
Zhan hesitated at the entrance, fear rooting him to the spot.
Yang-Yang glanced back at him.
"Come in."
With slow, uncertain steps, Zhan entered, keeping his head low as he passed Lihua.
Yang-Yang had already taken a seat.
Lihua looked at him, clearly displeased.
"This is a someone home. You can't just walk in like this. Who exactly are you looking for?"
Yang-Yang leaned back slightly.
"That's why I greeted you before coming in."
Her eyes narrowed.
"What business do you have with Yibo?"
"It would be better if you call him back, if he's not around," Yang-Yang said. "And his mother... is she home?"
Lihua scoffed, irritation evident.
"I am his small mother. And Yibo isn't even in the country right now. So whatever you came to say, say it quickly. I was sleeping before you disturbed me."
Yang-Yang was silent for a moment. Then he pointed toward Zhan.
"You know him, don't you?"
Lihua turned to look at Zhan, her face tightening with disdain.
"Of course I do. The help we took in who ended up destroying everything. He crossed boundaries with my nephew, turned him against me... Even after leaving, the mess he created hasn't been fixed. I leave everything to fate now."
Zhan broke down, dropping to his knees as tears streamed down his face.
Yang-Yang calmly pulled out his handkerchief, wiping his face before looking at him.
"Enough crying. Explain everything yourself."
Lihua stepped forward quickly, eyes blazing.
"Explain what exactly?"
Zhan tried to wipe his tears, but they wouldn't stop.
Lihua stared at him, then suddenly burst into mocking laughter. Just as quickly, she stopped and turned to Yang-Yang with a sharp look.
"So you brought him here to tell me he's pregnant with my Yibo's child?"
Yang-Yang nodded slightly.
"Unfortunately... you already know your nephew's behavior."
Zhan lowered his head, crying even harder.
Lihua let out another cold laugh before pointing toward the door.
"This house isn't for nonsense like this. Get out."
Her tone turned harsh instantly.
Yang-Yang smirked faintly.
"Raising your voice won't intimidate me. You should save that energy."
She glared at him furiously.
"I'll show you exactly where it works. This shameless person wants to pin a pregnancy on my nephew because he has nowhere else to go."
Yang-Yang's voice remained steady.
"That's simple. We can go to the hospital and check the timeline. If it matches when Yibo sent him away... then the truth will be clear."
That made Lihua pause.
For the first time, something in Yang-Yang's words unsettled her.
Yang-Yang stepped closer, his voice lowering but sharper.
"I brought him here for two reasons. First-to confirm whether he was telling the truth. Second-to let you understand the pain you're about to cause an innocent orphan."
Lihua said nothing.
"You've taken everything from him," Yang-Yang continued. "His dignity, his place, his peace. And whether you accept it or not... that doesn't erase what your nephew has done."
He paused, then added quietly,
"There are consequences for that."
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a card, and held it up briefly.
"You can call me Yang-Yang."
He placed the card on the table.
Lihua snatched it, tore it into pieces, and threw it to the floor in front of him.
"Are you threatening us?"
Yang-Yang smiled faintly.
"Not at all."
Then he turned to Zhan.
"Let's go."
Zhan stood up slowly, wiping his tears as he followed behind him.
They walked out of the house in silence. By the time they reached the car, Zhan was still trembling.
Yang-Yang opened the door for him. Zhan got in quietly.
As Yang-Yang drove out onto the road, neither of them spoke.
Zhan pulled his knees to his chest, burying his face as quiet sobs escaped him-hoping, somehow, it would ease the heavy ache crushing his heart.
Yang-Yang pulled over by the roadside. Spotting a nearby building, he stepped out briefly, then returned with a bottle of water. After taking a few sips, he got back behind the wheel and continued driving.
His expression hardened as he said,
"Will you stop crying and start thinking about how to face reality?"
Zhan went quiet immediately, though soft sobs still escaped him as Yang-Yang drove on in silence.
By evening, they arrived in Shanghai.
Without wasting time, Yang-Yang drove straight to a hotel. After parking, he said,
"Tomorrow morning, we'll go to your stepmother's house."
Zhan looked at him fearfully.
Yang-Yang stepped out.
"Come down."
They entered the reception together. He booked two rooms, bought food for both of them, and led the way upstairs.
Standing at the door of Zhan's room, he said,
"Try to eat something. Take a shower and rest."
He handed him a spare key.
"And don't leave the key in the door."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and went into his own room.
He showered quickly, lay down, and called home. After a short conversation, he ended the call and fell into a deep sleep almost instantly.
Around three in the morning, he woke up abruptly.
Something felt wrong.
He quickly grabbed his shirt, picked up Zhan's spare key, and hurried to his room. As he unlocked the door, he silently hoped the key wasn't still inside.
The door opened.
Zhan was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed.
Yang-Yang rushed to him and knelt down.
"Did you eat anything?"
No response.
He noticed Zhan's swollen eyes, then glanced at the untouched food from the night before. His jaw tightened.
"What's wrong with you? You've been crying since last night?"
Zhan shook his head weakly, then placed a trembling hand on his chest.
"It hurts...in here"
Yang-Yang exhaled slowly.
"Did you shower?"
Zhan shook his head.
He stood up and went into the bathroom, preparing warm water before returning.
"Go shower. You'll feel better."
Zhan obeyed quietly.
When he came out, he lay on the bed, curling into himself. Yang-Yang covered him with a blanket and watched as exhaustion finally pulled him into sleep.
After turning off the lights, he left the room.
****
At dawn, Yang-Yang checked on him again. Zhan was still asleep.
Later that morning, Yang-Yang stepped out to get something for him. After a short while, he returned with a simple drink.
He woke Zhan gently.
Zhan went to rinse his mouth as instructed and returned, weak and drained.
Yang-Yang handed him the drink.
"Drink this. Even if it's just a little."
Zhan nodded faintly and took slow sips, his hand trembling. He managed about half before stopping.
"Try a bit more," Yang-Yang said.
Zhan shook his head quickly.
"I'll throw up."
Yang-Yang didn't push further.
"Rest. I'll get ready. We're leaving soon."
Not long after, they checked out of the hotel and headed out.
Once on the road, Yang-Yang asked,
"Where is your stepmother's place?"
Zhan hesitated, his voice shaky.
"I'm scared... She told me not to ruin her marriage. I don't want to cause problems."
"You'll stay in the car," Yang-Yang replied. "I'll handle it."
Zhan nodded, wiping his tears.
As they entered the neighborhood, Zhan began directing him. When they got close, he said softly,
"Stop here... that's the house."
Yang-Yang parked and studied the building.
"What's her name?"
"Xixue."
He stepped out and walked toward the house.
After a moment, a young boy passed by. Yang-Yang called him over and asked him to deliver a message inside.
Not long after, two women came out-Hasue and another.
They looked at Yang-Yang curiously.
"Good evening," one of them said.
"Good evening," he replied. "I'm here to see Ms Xixue."
Their expressions shifted.
"Are you related to her?" Hasue asked bluntly.
Yang-Yang shook his head.
"Then maybe you came to collect your debt money?" she added with a sharp tone. "Well, you're late. Xixue doesn't live here anymore."
Yang-Yang frowned slightly.
"What do you mean?"
"She's gone," the other woman said. "Our husband divorced her recently. She packed up everything and left."
Yang-Yang's expression darkened.
"Do you know where she went?"
They exchanged glances.
"We heard she sold everything and returned to her country," Hasue said. "Somewhere outside... not from here."
Yang-Yang stood there for a moment, absorbing the information.
Then, without another word, he turned and walked back to the car.
Inside, Zhan had been crying the entire time.
Yang-Yang got into the driver's seat and rested his head briefly against the steering wheel, his thoughts racing.
Where does he go from here?
What is he supposed to do with someone who has nowhere left?
Zhan's trembling voice broke the silence.
"Is she... still angry with me?"
Yang-Yang lifted his head slowly and looked at him-his expression unreadable, his eyes darker than before.
💚💙❤️🖤