The Ex Returns

The afternoon sun slanted through the tall glass windows of the Wang Corporation lobby, casting long streaks of gold across the marble floor. Xiao Zhan stepped inside, balancing a tray of coffee and snacks he had picked up for Yibo and his assistants.

As he walked past, employees greeted him warmly.

“Good afternoon, Xiao-ge.”

“You’re here to see President Wang again?”

Zhan smiled, cheeks pink. “Mn, just delivering energy for your overworking boss.”

He entered the elevator, humming softly. Being with Yibo—even in small ways like bringing him coffee—made him happy. It felt like he belonged not only in Yibo’s heart but in his world.

But when the elevator doors slid open to Yibo’s private floor, Zhan froze.

Standing in front of Yibo’s office door was a woman in an elegant white dress, her beauty polished and sharp. Her perfume—sweet, strong, overwhelming—cut through the air like a blade.

Meng Ziyi.

Zhan’s heart sank instantly.

The woman who once held Yibo’s hand, the woman he had seen in old photos, the woman who always seemed like a ghost lingering between them.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” Zhan asked, his tone polite but tight.

Ziyi’s eyes flicked over him, assessing. Then a faint smirk curled her lips. “You must be Xiao Zhan. I’ve heard about you.”

Zhan swallowed, clutching the tray tighter. “And you are?”

She stepped closer, her heels clicking softly. “Meng Ziyi. Yibo’s first love.”

The words hit like ice. Zhan’s grip on the coffee almost slipped.

Before he could respond, the office door opened, and Yibo appeared. “Zhan ge? What are you—”

Then his eyes landed on Ziyi. He froze, expression unreadable.

“Yibo,” she said smoothly, her voice dripping with familiarity. “It’s been a long time.”

Zhan’s stomach twisted. Yibo didn’t answer right away. He looked caught—confused. And to Zhan, it was enough to plant a seed of doubt.

“Why are you here?” Yibo finally asked, his tone cold.

“I came back from overseas,” Ziyi explained, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I wanted to see you. And maybe… start over.”

Zhan felt his blood run cold. Start over?

The silence stretched. Yibo glanced at Zhan, then at Ziyi. For the first time, he didn’t have an immediate answer.

Zhan forced a smile, though his heart cracked. “I… I’ll leave these here.” He set the tray on the desk, his hands trembling just slightly. “You two… catch up.”

“Zhan ge—” Yibo started, reaching out.

But Zhan stepped back, avoiding his touch. “It’s fine.” His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed him—shimmering with hurt.

He left before Yibo could stop him.

Zhan walked quickly down the hall, chest tight, mind spiraling. He hated this feeling—the reminder that no matter how much Yibo said he loved him, Meng Ziyi had once been part of his life. A part Zhan could never erase.

What if Yibo regrets choosing me? What if he still feels something for her?

He blinked rapidly, not wanting to cry in the middle of Wang Corporation.

Inside the office, Yibo turned to Ziyi, irritation flickering across his face.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

“Why not?” she asked, her voice low and persuasive. “You and I—we have history. We were perfect together once.”

“That was years ago,” Yibo snapped. “I’ve moved on.”

Her smile was bittersweet. “Have you? You didn’t deny it when I said I wanted to start over. That silence says more than you think.”

Yibo’s jaw tightened, but before he could reply, he glanced toward the door Zhan had disappeared through. His chest ached.

I need to explain to him. Before it’s too late.

Later that night, Zhan sat on his dorm balcony, staring at the city lights. His phone buzzed with Yibo’s messages.

Yibo: Where are you, Zhan ge?

Yibo: I’m not interested in her. You’re the one I love.