Chapter 5

Over the next few days, the fragile truce between zhan and yibo held. They no longer engaged in constant verbal battles, and when they weren't exactly friends, there was an understanding between them a silent agreement to coexist without hostility.

One evening, zhan found himself in the library, a place he had barely explored since arriving at the Wang mansion.

The room was wide, lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with countless novels, some ancient, some new. It smelled of aged paper and polished wood, a scent that oddly comforted zhan.

As he ran her fingers along the spines of the books, zhan heard footsteps behind him. Turning, he saw yibo watching him from the doorway, his hands tucked into his pockets.

"You read?" Yibo asked, his voice neutral but curious.

Zhan smirked. "Is it so surprising that a poor boy might enjoy books?"

Yibo arched a brow. "That's not what I meant"

Zhan sighed, shaking his head. "Yeah I read. Not that I had much time for it before"

Yibo stepped inside, walking toward the large wooden desk near the center of the room. He picked up a book resting there and flipped through its pages absentmindedly. "My mother used to spend hours in here. She always said books held pieces of people souls"

Zhan tilted his head. "That's... poetic"

Yibo give a half smile. "She was a poet at heart"

Zhan hesitated before asking. "What happened to her?"

Yibo's jaw Tensed slightly, and for a moment, zhan thought yibo wouldn't answer. But then, he exhaled, setting the book down. "She died when I was fifteen, Cancer"

Zhan's chest tightened. He lost his father, but the pain of losing a mother especially at such a young age was something zhan couldn't imagine.

"I'm sorry" zhan said quietly.

Yibo nodded, looking away. "It was a long time ago"

Silence settled between them, but this time it wasn't uncomfortable. It was filled with something else understanding, perhaps even the beginning of trust.

Zhan took a step closer to the bookshelf. "If your mother loved books so much, I assume you do too?"

Yibo gave a soft chuckle. "I used to. Haven't had much time for it lately"

Zhan pulled a book from the shelf and turned it over in his hands. "And maybe you should make time"

Yibo studied zhan for a moment before replying.

"Maybe I will"

Later that night, as zhan lay in bed, he found himself thinking about yibo more than he should have.

Yibo was still arrogant, still cold in many ways, but there was something beneath the surface-something real.

And that terrified zhan more than anything.

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A week had passed since their quiet conversation in the library, and though zhan and yibo were still far from being friends, the hostility between them had lessened.

There were no more cutting remarks over breakfast, no more cold glares in passing. It was progress-however small.

That night, an extravagant gala was hosted at the Wang estate. It was an event yibo had been obligated to attend, a gathering of elites and power players.

And as the wife. Zhan was expected to be by Yibo's side.

The moment zhan stepped into the grand ballroom, zhan felt suffocated. Chandeliers cast golden light over the sea of elegant guests, men in finely tailored suits and women draped In jewels worth more than his entire existence.

Zhan had always despised these kinds of people, the ones who looked down on others simply because of their wealth. And yet here he was, playing the part of one of them.

Zhan felt a presence at his side. And before zhan could react. Yibo's hand slide at the slim waist of zhan's back. The warmth of yibo's touch sent an unexpected shiver down his spine.

"You look..." Yibo hesitated, his gaze sweeping over zhan in the dark red slit back zhan wore exposing his skin a little. "Beautiful and hot..... Wow...."

Zhan scoffed. "Highly praised coming from you"

A tugged of smirked forming yibo's lips. "Don't get used to it"

As the evening progressed, Zhan watch as Yibo conversed effortlessly with business tycoons and investors.

Yibo was the epitome of control-charming, calculating, unreadable. And yet, there were moments when his gaze flickered to zhan, as if checking to see if he was alright.

It wasn't long before the dance began, and a prominent business associate approached them. "Yibo, you must dance with your lovely wife", the older man insisted.

Zhan tensed. Dance? With yibo?

Before zhan could refuse, yibo extended his hand to him. "Shall we?"

Zhan wanted to say no, but there were so many eyes watching so with gritted teeth, zhan placed his hand in  him and allowed yibo to lead him onto the dance floor.

As they moved to the rhythm, zhan was hyper-aware of yibo's closeness. Yibo's hand was firm at his thin waist, yibo's movement precise, effortless.

Zhan, on the other hand, struggled to keep up, nearly stepping on yibo's foot more than once.

"Relax" yibo murmured, his breath warm against zhan's ear.

"Easy for you to say", zhan muttered. "You were probably trained in this since birth"

Yibo chuckled softly. "Not quite. My mother taught me"

Zhan glanced up at yibo, surprised at the admission.

Yibo's expression was unreadable, but there was a certain softness in his eyes zhan hadn't seen before.

"Your doing fine" yibo added, his voice quieter now.

Zhan swallowed. He wasn't sure if it was the music, the champagne, or the way yibo was looking at zhan for the first time, zhan didn't feel like running away from him.

As the dance ended, applause erupted around them. But zhan barely heard it. His heart was pounding so loudly in his ears.

"See?", Yibo said as he stepped back. "That wasn't so bad"

Zhan narrowed his eyes, regaining his composure. "Don't get any ideas, Wang"

Yibo smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it"

But even as they parted, the lingering warmth of yibo's touched remained. And for the first time, zhan wondered if his hatred for the rich had room for exception.

*only exception~

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