Chapter 4

The morning after the storm, the air in the Wang mansion was thick with an unfamiliar tension-one that wasn't entirely hostile.

Zhan woke up feeling unsettled, the memory of the night before lingering in his thoughts.

Yibo's words about his mother, the way he had allowed himself to be vulnerable, it was something zhan hadn't expected from yibo.

Zhan wrapped himself in a robe and made his way down stairs, surprised to find yibo already in the dining hall.

Yibo was sipping coffee, dressed in a fresh suit, looking  every bit a billionaire zhan had married. But something about yibo felt different today.

"Good morning", yibo said, his voice was smoother than usual.

Zhan hesitated before responding, "Morning".

Zhan sat down, noticing the fresh breakfast laid out before zhan-scrambled eggs, toast, and a cup of steaming coffee.

Usually, zhan prepared his own meals, but today, it seemed someone had done it for zhan.

"Did you-?" Zhan glanced at the food, then back at yibo.

Yibo didn't look up. "I asked the chef to prepare something for you".

Zhan eye brows shot up. "Why?"

Yibo finally met zhan's gaze. "Because I figured you might want to eat something warm for once".

Zhan blinked. This was new. This was..... odd. But instead of arguing, zhan picked up his fork and took a bite.

To zhan's surprise, it was delicious. Zhan wouldn't admit it, but the gesture warmed something inside him.

For a few minutes, they ate in silence, but it wasn't the uncomfortable kind. It was almost peaceful.

After finishing his meal. Zhan wiped his mouth and leaned back in his chair. "So, what now? We continue pretending we don't completely despise each other?"

Yibo exhaled, setting down his coffee cup. "We try to be civil".

Zhan tilted his head. "Civil? That's a big step for you".

"It's a practical step", yibo corrected. "We live under the same roof. The least we can do is make it tolerable".

Zhan considered this. It is true that zhan had no way out of this arrangement-not yet, anyway. Perhaps a fragile truce was better the constant war.

"Fine" zhan agreed, "But don't expect me to suddenly start baking you cookies and calling you 'darling' "

A smirked tugged at Yibo's lips. "I wouldn't dream of it"

The unexpected ease of their conversation surprised them both.

It was a small step, but in a marriage neither had wanted, it was the first sign that maybe-just maybe things could change.

Later that day, zhan found himself wandering through the mansion, still unfamiliar with its vastness.

Zhan stumbled, upon a room he hadn't entered before a sunlit space filled with paintings, some half-finished, others stunningly complete.

Zhan was studying a particular canvas when yibo's voice interrupted his thoughts. "You paint?"

"Yes" zhan admitted. "But these..... they're beautiful. Did your mother paint these?"

Yibo nodded. "She was an artist. This was her sanctuary".

Zhan traced a hand over the edge of an unfinished painting, his heart unexpectedly heavy. "You never mentioned that before".

"You never asked that before"

Zhan glanced at yibo, seeing something in his eyes, zhan hadn't noticed before pain, nostalgia, a longing for something lost.

Zhan exhaled. "I think she would've liked the rain"

Yibo studied him for a moment before a small, almost slight smile touched his lips. "She would have"

For the first time, zhan realized that beneath the cold, calculating businessman was someone who had once known love, someone who had lost more than he let it on.

And for the first time, zhan wondered what it would take to truly understand him.

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