"Isn't it a breathtaking sight from here?"
King Yibo's voice came softly against Zhan's ear. A chill ran down Zhan's spine, his skin tingling as he shut his eyes for a moment, his body leaning slightly against the King's. "Mm," he hummed lowly in response.
King Yibo's lips curved into a faint smile. He opened his eyes again and placed his hands gently over Zhan's, which still rested on the iron railing. Zhan followed his gaze toward the courtyard below, where attendants moved about and royal vehicles glided in and out through the palace gates.
The slow rhythm of King Yibo's breath brushing against Zhan's neck made it hard for him to stay composed, though he did his best not to show it.
As the rain began to fall harder, King Yibo exhaled softly and blinked open his eyes. He rose smoothly and, without releasing Zhan's hand, led him toward one of the nearby canopies just as the rain poured down in sheets.
When Zhan tried to pull his hand away, Yibo finally let go and sat with quiet authority in one of the cushioned seats beneath the shelter. His posture was regal, his expression as unreadable as ever. Without glancing at Zhan, he pressed a small switch on the armrest; the sides of the canopy slid down, enclosing them completely. The space filled with a warm light, creating the illusion of a private chamber.
Zhan couldn't help but whisper, "Wow." The sight fascinated him completely. Realizing he'd spoken aloud, he quickly covered his mouth and cast a quick glance at Yibo. The King, however, showed no sign of reaction...his face calm, as though unaware of Zhan's presence at all. Then he leaned back in his seat, eyes half closed.
Zhan bit his lip and looked away. The rain beat heavily against the roof now, a cold breeze sneaking through even though the space was sealed. He shivered, rubbing his arms slightly, yet his curiosity itched to peek outside and watch the rain fall. Still, the thought of Yibo sitting beside him made him hesitate.
"Sit."
The single word came so quietly it was hard to tell if it was spoken aloud. Zhan blinked, startled. The King hadn't moved; his tone was calm but unmistakably firm. With no choice, Zhan sat down, keeping his arms close to himself to fend off the chill.
Yibo's eyes flicked briefly toward him, then away again. With a slow, deliberate movement, he removed his jacket. Zhan watched from the corner of his eye, uncertain of his intention—until Yibo turned and draped the jacket over his shoulders.
Zhan drew in a sharp breath, his chest tightening. He held the soft fabric, murmuring, "Thank you."
Yibo didn't reply. He simply returned to his seat, his gaze now fixed on Zhan...sharp, steady, assessing. Unable to meet his eyes, Zhan lowered his gaze, staring at the faint shimmer of the King's jacket, breathing in the subtle scent that clung to it.
"Who told you about those stuffs?" Yibo asked suddenly, his voice calm but edged. "Who placed them there?"
Zhan hadn't expected such a direct question. He lifted his head slightly, startled, meeting Yibo's piercing gaze... eyes that seemed to see straight through him. He quickly looked down again, his voice quiet when he spoke.
"I saw them in my dream."
Yibo straightened slowly, disbelief flickering across his features. His intense stare didn't waver. Zhan felt the weight of it and rushed to explain, his words tumbling out.
"It's true. I saw it in a dream. I didn't think it meant anything at first, but the image kept returning. And every time I dreamed it again… later, it somehow became real."
King Yibo's heartbeat quickened, though his face remained unreadable. He studied Zhan in silence, as if trying to decide whether to trust him...or whether he was facing someone far beyond ordinary understanding.
Finally, in a low, restrained voice, he asked,
"Who are you, really? What brought you to me? No one returns to help the very man they once set out to destroy."
The tone has been preserved: emotional, dramatic, and deeply human.
Zhan lifted his eyes slowly, stunned by King Yibo's words. The intensity of the King's gaze sent a shiver down his spine, raising goosebumps along his arms.
His voice came out quiet, trembling slightly with the weight of memory and pain. "XIAO ZINNU ZHAN!" he began... then paused for a few seconds, as if something sharp had pierced through his chest.
"It wasn't I who came to you, My Lord," he said at last, voice low but steady. "You were the one who came to me. There were four of us....my siblings and me: Huan, Juan, Feng, and I, the youngest. A year ago, our home was our paradise. We had little, but we were happy....happy in a way the wealthy could never understand. We were bound by love, by care so deep that if one of us felt pain, the rest of us felt it too. And then, everything changed. It happened one fateful evening....the kind of day no one in my family could ever forget. The day Juan Jie became one of your wives..."
His voice cracked. Tears welled in his eyes, choking him before he could go on. The only sounds left were the soft rhythm of his uneven breathing and the heavy fall of rain outside.
King Yibo sat motionless, his posture regal and unreadable. His eyes were half closed, yet somehow still fixed on Zhan....watching, weighing, listening.
Zhan wiped his tears roughly and continued, his tone growing more bitter.
"Everything collapsed. Everything changed beyond repair. I lost Juan Jie. I lost Feng. And in the end, I lost my parents too....and Huan. All because of you. Everything was taken from me. It's as if I never had a family at all, as if I never existed....all because of you. The pain burns through me every moment I breathe. I've reached the point where the thought of losing my life no longer frightens me....because what's left to lose? I only want to join my family again. But before I do, I must show the world who they were, and what was done to them. That is my vow. Even if I'm weak, my promise will not be wasted. If I must fall, I'll fall with the killer....even if your empire stands untouchable above all."
His voice broke again, and this time he couldn't hold back the sobs.
King Yibo still didn't move. His eyes followed Zhan quietly, his heart twisting with something he couldn't name.... something he had never felt before.
Slowly, Zhan slipped down from his seat and knelt before him, his head bowed, hands clasped together in a begging gesture.
"Don't trust me," he said hoarsely. "Because truly, my heart still burns with the desire for revenge. You should pass judgment on me now, while you can.... punish me as you see fit. I came to this palace to destroy you, to avenge my blood. I agreed to marry you only to fulfill that plan....to take your life as I lost those I loved. And I still can't say your hands are clean. I haven't laid down my weapons yet because I need to know the truth. But before you decide my fate, I need you to tell me about your connection to Mulan. And stop trying to protect me....it only traps me here like a caged animal. What I want is to face them myself.... those who've shown me war, those who think they can toy with my family's name. I've prepared for it. I can defend myself and you....from them, from anyone, even if I must come back to take your life."
Zhan brushed away the tears still clinging to his cheeks and rose to his feet again.
"I'm sorry for my sharpness....it's simply who I am. I can't change that. It's in my blood. When I look you in the eye and speak my truth, it doesn't mean I don't respect you. You're my King....and even if someone dares insult your name beyond the walls of Beiping, no matter how powerful they are, I'll strike them down myself until they taste their own blood before the crowd. But be careful, my lord. You're surrounded by enemies....everywhere. Even I, standing here before you, am one of them. Never underestimate an enemy, no matter how small. Even a needle is made of steel, and a razor can kill as swiftly as a blade.
So, as I've asked before, don't leave your quarters tonight. I beg you, as your HUSBAND....not as your subject. Staying inside won't stop destiny or shield you from defeat, but at least... it might give you one more dawn to see."
King Yibo's breath hitched; his hand rested on his chest, the words "as your HUSBAND" cutting deeper than anything Zhan had said before. Still, the rest of Zhan's speech carried its own weight. Yet King Yibo didn't move....he watched Zhan from under lowered lids as though observing a small, flickering screen. A long silence fell, the kind that stretches like the steady fall of rain, until he lifted his sharp eyes to meet Zhan's. In a voice even and composed, with an edge that didn't betray softness, he asked, "What do you actually know about me? About the purpose you came to this Palace with?"
For a moment Zhan seemed frozen; then his lips moved. He didn't flinch. He met Yibo's gaze and, with a quiet resolve that made Yibo's spine prickle, he spoke.
Zhan smiled, but it was a cold smile that stole the breath from the King. He stepped back a fraction and let the words fall slow and steady. "Knowing anything about you is never easy for an outsider. But you should be the first to know yourself. If you truly knew, you'd remember who you are: the responsibilities of millions rest under you. Strip even a single right away on purpose and someone will hold you to account for it. I don't think you're one to be narrow-minded... if you were innocent of what others accuse, I wonder why those close to you would be hunting your life. I see no reason for them to do that unless there is something to chase."
King Yibo thought....his heart stuttered at the accusation, though he kept his face composed. It was the first time someone had spoken such an uncomfortable truth so plainly to him, even someone years his senior might have skirted it. Yet this younger man, born into struggle, said aloud what Yibo had long wanted to hear: his circle was compromised, his life tracked. His father had warned him; now Zhan's words widened that fear.
Yibo held Zhan's gaze with an intensity that nearly stole his breath. Quietly, he asked, "Did they gave you the poison you gave it to me?"
Zhan did not answer immediately. He looked up slowly....there was no point hiding it from Yibo. He inclined his head once and replied, "I never hid anything in my mind from Mulan. Even when I sought the antidote, I told him. That's why I still wonder why you drank that milk if you saw my messages, why you ignored the message and yet...."
A small smile ghosted across Yibo's face, almost slipping into place, but he swallowed it back and closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again his expression was cool, forcing Zhan to drop his own gaze.
"I didn't see that message because i weren't in the country that day."
Zhan snapped his head up. His voice trembled with disbelief. "You weren't here? After your wife was murdered and the old man who argued openly with you ended up dead....and you mean to tell me you're actually the Mulan I daubt about?"
Yibo's eyes narrowed, then he leaned forward until he was almost level with Zhan. Zhan stayed rooted, eyes wide, as Yibo sat beside him. One leg crossed over the other, Yibo's sharp stare fixed on him. Zhan couldn't stop looking; the air between them felt taut, as if something might snap.
"Of all the consorts brought into this Palace as my wives, you are the only one I've ever seen with my own eyes," Yibo said. "No one brought in who lost their life while I watched. You will knew who Mulan is as you need to....because I want us to work together."
He allowed a small, controlled smile to touch his mouth....enough to unsettle Zhan but not disclose intent. "Think of yourself here beside Mulan, not as KING WANG YIBO. Tell me...what do you want to know?"
Zhan barely managed to swallow the lump in his throat; his body trembled and everything felt like a dream. King Yibo only prodded him further. In a voice that was cool but edged with accusation, Zhan asked, "So you say you never saw their faces....they died while you weren't in the kingdom? How is anyone supposed to accept that?"
"There's no legal shield for someone seen living with the judge here," Yibo answered quietly, the words tasting bitter in his mouth.
King Yibo spoke softly, as if the sentence had slipped out of him without intention. Zhan swallowed again, startled by being called "a person without legal shield." He shook his head slightly, incredulous, and then said in a low, hesitant voice, "How did you come to be friends with Sir Fenghui?"
For a long moment Yibo didn't answer. He kept his gaze down, silent, and Zhan found the exchange oddly satisfying in its own way. Finally Yibo breathed out slowly and said, "Truthfully, in Beiping I am known in Mulan's name; people approach me as they would anyone connected to Mulan. Fenghui entered my circle the same way many do....we first met abroad, in Cuba, during a course. When I learned he was from my homeland I was pleased; I told him I was from there too…"
There was a strained softness to Yibo's words that made Zhan smile without meaning to. King Yibo fumbled in his pocket, feeling the headache from talking so much and long, he pushed a phone toward Zhan. "Let continue in writing," he said. "My head hurts."
Zhan's sudden laugh loosened the tension; his lips twitched as he took the phone. Yibo watched him press the screen, then asked, "Why, then, when I met you at Eira Garden, didn't I see you with Sir Fenghui? Becouse he was the one called me to meet Mulan?"
He slid the phone across. For a moment Yibo only stared at the message; Zhan wondered if he'd answer. When Yibo finally typed, his reply made Zhan's brow lift in surprise: "I had no intention of meeting you....I wanted first to know who you were."
Zhan's eyes widened as he read. "Why?" he asked before he could stop himself.
Yibo met his gaze, then slowly removed the phone from Zhan's hand as if to take control of the conversation again. "Because your stated purpose affected me directly....and Fenghui didn't even know." He paused, letting the meaning settle.
Zhan read the words and then, with a new edge to his voice, asked, "So was i brought to this palace with your doing? Was i married to you with your own schemes?"
King Yibo narrowed his eyes stylishly, then opened them and fixed Zhan with a sly smile before turning his face away.
"Answer me, please."
Zhan edged to the end of the seat until his knee nearly brushed King Yibo's. He hesitated, and for a few long seconds Yibo stayed still, watching him with those sharp, deliberate eyes.
"If I move my enemy close to me, does that make it a crime?" King Yibo asked, voice firm.
Zhan pressed both palms to his face and hissed, "You've finished me. I'm done. Oh! Zhan....what kind of cruel fate is this?" His hands shook.
King Yibo let out a breathy laugh, but forced it down, and then turned aside with a small smile. Much to his surprise, Zhan bolted from the there in a quick run. Yibo's eyes widened, then his mouth split into a broad, involuntary grin. He watched the path Zhan took, the smile lingering as the man left.
★★… ★…
Her spy's slipped back into the chamber, looking at them she ordered the other attendants to give them space. Their bodies still trembled from the tension as they left without unnecessary words... everyone understood they were not to linger.
"Our great lady," one of them greeted. "Dowager Taihou went to the Mother of the Palace today. Right now they are in her garden, and Daneen is with them…"
She cast them a quick, pointed look and they immediately grasped his meaning. Bowing low, they replied, "As you wished, we remained near them. Before Daneen see us shortly."
Her expression tightened....clearly she did not want to hear that. The attendant hurried on, "They discussed many things. In summary, Dowager Taihou asked the Mother of the House forgiveness. Dowager Ruyan spoke at length and showed her anger, but in the end she forgave Dowager Taihou for past actions regarding the male royal consort. The matter closed with a request for another marriage alliance involving the head of this Palace…"
Dowager Cixi sat up straighter, staring at them as if their words might tumble from the air. "And then?" she demanded, eyes sharp.
"There was no sign that the Mother of the House would oppose it. From that, Daneen understood our present.... nothing more than what before we run away."
Dowager Cixi raised a hand, dismissing them. They left. She rose too, smoothing her robes, and left the sitting room for her private chamber. Her steps were measured until she reached the doorway, where for a moment she paused as if steadying herself before the door closed behind her.
NB
A whole chapter for only our Yizhan.
Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛