Cherreads
Home
/
Fake Marriage, But Real Love
/
39

Chapter 40 - 39

Slowly, Zhan's eyes fluttered open as he looked at Yibo, though he didn't open them fully. It was really him... his vision wasn't deceiving him, and it wasn't a trick of exhaustion. He swallowed the small lump that had formed in his throat, still feeling the warmth of Yibo's hand in his own. Now that he was fully awake, it felt as though that warmth had spread over his entire body.

"π‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›β€¦"

Yibo's voice spoke his name softly, deeply, filled with affection. He stared into Zhan's eyes, trying to be sure he was truly awake since he hadn't opened them properly yet.

Suddenly, Zhan pulled his hand free from both of Yibo's, breaking the circle of warmth all at once. The cool air from the room's fan rushed in to replace it.

Already wearing a sweater, Zhan tucked his hand back inside it and closed his eyes again, pretending to drift back to sleep.

Yibo called his name once more, as if trying to confirm whether he had truly fallen asleep again, but Zhan didn't even adjust his breathing to give him an answer.

Yibo's phone, which he had placed on the bed, began to vibrate rapidly... an incoming call. Zhan felt the vibration in his chest even without seeing it. He was certain Yibo declined the call because the vibration stopped abruptly and the room fell silent.

Just then, the door opened, and Aunty Shui walked in.

Her voice rose in surprise.

"π‘†π‘œ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘“π‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘œπ‘š? 𝐼 𝑀𝑒𝑛𝑑 π‘‘π‘œ π‘€π‘Žπ‘™π‘˜ π‘π‘Žπ‘› π‘“π‘Žπ‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘œπ‘’π‘‘ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘šπ‘’π‘‘ π‘ π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘œπ‘›π‘’ π‘Žπ‘‘ π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘π‘’π‘π‘‘π‘–π‘œπ‘›β€¦"

Zhan felt Yibo stand up from the chair, though he couldn't tell whether he bow or simply bent down to greet her. Aunty Shui's voice sounded slightly flustered as she returned the greeting.

"π‘Šβ„Žπ‘’π‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘‘π‘œπ‘™π‘‘ π‘šπ‘’ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘œπ‘š π‘›π‘’π‘šπ‘π‘’π‘Ÿ, 𝐼 π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘™π‘–π‘§π‘’π‘‘ 𝐼 π‘€π‘Žπ‘  π‘Žπ‘™π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘‘π‘¦ π‘π‘™π‘œπ‘ π‘’ 𝑏𝑦."

Yibo continued explaining after their greetings, and Zhan heard Aunty Shui say, "𝐻𝑒 β„Žπ‘Žπ‘ π‘›'𝑑 π‘€π‘œπ‘˜π‘’π‘› 𝑒𝑝 𝑦𝑒𝑑? 𝐡𝑒𝑑 β„Žπ‘’ π‘œπ‘π‘’π‘›π‘’π‘‘ β„Žπ‘–π‘  𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 π‘π‘’π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘’ 𝐼 𝑠𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 π‘œπ‘’π‘‘."

Zhan heard her footsteps approaching, clearly intending to wake him. Fortunately, Yibo stopped her quickly.

"π‘π‘œ, π‘π‘™π‘’π‘Žπ‘ π‘’...𝑙𝑒𝑑 β„Žπ‘–π‘š π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘ π‘‘. 𝐼𝑑 π‘™π‘œπ‘œπ‘˜π‘  π‘™π‘–π‘˜π‘’ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘–π‘›π‘—π‘’π‘π‘‘π‘–π‘œπ‘› β„Žπ‘’ π‘€π‘Žπ‘  𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑠 π‘‘π‘–π‘šπ‘’ π‘‘π‘œ π‘€π‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿ π‘œπ‘“π‘“. 𝐻𝑒 β„Žπ‘Žπ‘ π‘›'𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑦 π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘π‘œπ‘£π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ 𝑦𝑒𝑑."

From Aunty Shui's tone, Zhan could tell she wasn't fully convinced. If she had reached him and called his name, she would have insisted he wake up properly.

Then Yibo asked if he could see the doctor who had examined him....or at least any doctor on duty.

"𝐼 π‘‘π‘œπ‘›'𝑑 π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘˜ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘œπ‘›π‘’ π‘€β„Žπ‘œ π‘ π‘Žπ‘€ β„Žπ‘–π‘š π‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘™π‘–π‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑙 π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘‘," Aunty Shui replied honestly. "But I'll ask the nurses...maybe they can check his file for you."

With that, Zhan heard the door open and close as she left.

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝. 𝐓𝐰𝐨. π“π‘π«πžπž.

It felt as though Yibo stood there watching him. Then Zhan sensed him step closer to the bed. The scent of Yibo's cologne reached him strongly, filling his nose. He didn't dare move...he only waited, listening. Yibo's voice came close to his ear, so close it was clear he had leaned down until his face was near his. When he spoke, Zhan felt the vibration of his words against the fabric of his sweater...the only thing separating them.

"𝐼'π‘š π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘œπ‘›π‘’ π‘Žπ‘‘ π‘“π‘Žπ‘’π‘™π‘‘, π‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›β€¦ π‘π‘’π‘›π‘–π‘ β„Ž π‘šπ‘’ β„Žπ‘œπ‘€π‘’π‘£π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘€π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘."

Before Zhan's mind could fully process what he had said, the warmth disappeared. He felt only footsteps moving away and the door closing behind him.

Zhan didn't open his eyes, but he released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

****

Early the next morning, Zhan was discharged from the hospital. Uncle Sanxing had arrived early and insisted on seeing the doctor first, ensuring that Zhan was cleared to leave.

Meanwhile, Nainai and the others were already preparing to come...Noni, Bai (who hadn't gone to school that day), and another relative who had stayed over the night before. They arrived carrying breakfast and two large flasks of hot water, meant for bathing.

Uncle Sanxing finished scolding Bai, who was struggling with the flasks, saying,

"𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑓 π‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘› β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑛 π‘π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘‘β„Ž, π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘€π‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘ 𝑠𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘’π‘‘π‘–π‘›π‘’."

They gathered themselves and headed inside.

Still, Nainai didn't stop making phone calls. Everyone she spoke to heard both about the wedding and about the illness. She was a deeply social woman....when she had strength, no family matter ever passed without her involvement.

As Zhan watched the steady stream of visitors, he couldn't help wondering: when the celebration finally came, just how large would Nainai make it?

Everyone who arrived asked the same questions:

"π‘†π‘œ π‘€β„Žπ‘’π‘› 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑙 β„Žπ‘’ π‘šπ‘œπ‘£π‘’ 𝑖𝑛?"

"π»π‘Žπ‘  π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ β„Žπ‘’π‘ π‘π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘Žπ‘”π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’π‘‘ π‘‘π‘œ π‘ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘¦, π‘œπ‘Ÿ 𝑖𝑠 π‘Ž π‘‘π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’ 𝑠𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑒𝑑?"

He kept turning the word husband over and over in his mind, letting it echo.

Yibo was his husband.

This doctor he admired from a distance, the kind people spoke of with awe, someone who seemed untouchable...whenever Yibo spoke to him, Zhan's heart would tremble in his chest, leaving him unable to steady himself. He remembered the first day they met. The day they began working together. He remembered all the stories Aji had told him about Yibo...how everyone had been surprised that he accepted the program at all, given his well-known temperament.

Was it fate, then, that things turned out this way?

Zhan couldn't point to the exact moment when his interest in Yibo began, or when Yibo's interest in him started either. Even during the period when he had been suspended from work, Yibo had come looking for him at home, and it had felt strangely natural...as though they had always known each other. He thought back to that time...the long phone calls, almost every night.

Some things only make sense in hindsight, when you finally look back and say, "π‘†π‘œ π‘‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ π‘€π‘Žπ‘  π‘€β„Žπ‘¦."

It had been two days since he was discharged from the hospital.

Yibo came that very evening.

What made it worse was that Zhan was wearing a red vest and three quater pant at the time. They were seated in the living room receiving visitors when Uncle Sanxing walked in and announced that he had come with Yibo.

Zhan didn't even have time to react before he heard Nainai and her sister saying. "π‘‡β„Žπ‘’π‘› π‘π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘›π‘” β„Žπ‘–π‘š 𝑖𝑛. π‘†π‘Žπ‘›π‘₯𝑖𝑛𝑔, π‘ π‘‘π‘œπ‘ π‘Žπ‘π‘‘π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘›π‘”π‘’... π‘‘π‘œπ‘’π‘  β„Žπ‘’ 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 π‘ π‘π‘’π‘π‘–π‘Žπ‘™ π‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘šπ‘–π‘ π‘ π‘–π‘œπ‘› π‘›π‘œπ‘€?"

So Zhan stayed where he was.

Uncle Sanxing opened the door and brought Yibo inside.

In that moment, Zhan felt completely exposed. Usually, it is after a wedding that a woman....or in his case, a spouse...begins to feel truly seen, adorned, acknowledged as newly married. But for him, it felt as though time had moved backward. Yibo had now seen him twice, neither time under the warmth or celebration that should accompany such a moment.

There had been no festive gathering, no celebratory season, no joyful preparations. The last time the household had been lively like that was during the previous festival, when Elder relatives and their people had come and gone, greeting one another, everyone dressed well and in high spirits.

Now, there was nothing like that.

And Nainai, for all her excitement, acted as though everything was perfectly normal, repeatedly calling Zhan's name until he turned to greet them.

Zhan sat there in that red outfit, feeling like someone silently asking for mercy.

Meanwhile, he felt increasingly uncomfortable as Nainai praised his calmness, while Aunty Shui spoke enthusiastically about preparations. Uncle Nanjing had announced that he would take care of all the household furnishings; all they needed to do was choose what they liked and send him the list.

Bai, laughing constantly, kept asking what exactly would be done for the wedding, saying he had a long list of people to invite.

At different times, Yibo tried calling Zhan, but Zhan was never near his phone. Instead of returning the calls, he replied with text messages. After that, Yibo stopped calling.

Over the two days, they communicated only by text.

Even then, Zhan replied only when he felt like it. Yibo, on the other hand, replied immediately whenever Zhan sent a message. Sometimes Zhan would read the reply and deliberately leave it unanswered until much later.

He told himself that if Yibo could go days without calling him...until something serious forced the issue....then he had no reason to act as though he had all the time in the world either. That was how their conversations dwindled over those two days.

One message in particular stayed with him.

Yibo had sent it, asking if he could come to see him. He waited for a reply, but Zhan didn't respond.

"𝒁𝒉𝒂𝒏, 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 π’˜π’‚π’π’• 𝒕𝒐 π’‡π’Šπ’ˆπ’‰π’• π’šπ’π’–π’“ π’˜π’‚π’π’π’”. 𝑰 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 π’˜π’‚π’π’• π’šπ’π’– 𝒕𝒐 π’‡π’π’“π’ˆπ’†π’• π’†π’—π’†π’“π’šπ’•π’‰π’Šπ’π’ˆ 𝒂𝒏𝒅 π’ˆπ’Šπ’—π’† π’Žπ’† 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 π’šπ’π’– 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝑰 π’…π’Šπ’… 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆."

Zhan read the message over and over, lingering on it because the words stirred something deep inside him. He had long understood that when it came to choosing words, Yibo knew exactly what he was doing.

After a while, another message came... something Yibo clearly felt he had forgotten to add.

Just one word:

"𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆."

As Zhan read it, he felt his heart begin that familiar tremble again. But then he remembered how the marriage had been arranged without Yibo consulting him, and the lingering suspicion that Yibo might still be hiding something from him.

So he picked up his phone and finally sent the reply Yibo had been waiting for... before Yibo could send anything else.

"π‘Άπ’Œπ’‚π’š."

That was all.

He replied mainly because Aunty Shui kept asking whether they had discussed anything. Zhan also suspected that Uncle Sanxing had spoken to Yibo directly, which was likely why Yibo had come in person... realizing that Zhan had no intention of listening to him over the phone.

****

𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 8:15 𝐩.𝐦.

Zhan checked the time on his phone again, waiting for Bai to return. Bai had gone to bring Yibo inside after texting that he had arrived. Once Zhan finished getting ready, he had sent Bai alone, asking him to straighten the downstairs living room near Uncle Ruobing's section... where Yibo would be staying this time.

His phone vibrated beside him on the bed.

When he checked, it was Aji calling. Instantly, Zhan felt no desire to answer. He already knew what the conversation would be about.... Aji telling more hospital colleagues about his marriage to Yibo, followed by endless surprise and questions. He had just finished a call with Yufei not long ago; she called almost every day, counting down the days until she could return home for the wedding. She complained constantly about Macau, saying she was tired of the place since neither her relatives nor her husbands lived there.

When the call ended, Zhan sent Aji a message saying he would call her later.

Just then, Bai walked in and told him that Yibo had arrived.

Zhan stood up without picking up his phone, leaving it on the bed. He reapplied the perfume on the dresser. He wasn't wearing anything on his face, yet when he looked at his reflection, his heart felt heavier.

When he stepped into the living room, he greeted Nainai. Aunty Shui, who was staying over for the night since her husband was away, followed him to the door after he excused himself.

"π‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›β€¦"

He turned while trying to put on his shoes.

"𝐺𝑒𝑑 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ π‘’π‘™π‘“ π‘‘π‘œπ‘”π‘’π‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ. π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’ π‘˜π‘›π‘œπ‘€ 𝑒π‘₯π‘Žπ‘π‘‘π‘™π‘¦ π‘€β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ 𝐼 π‘šπ‘’π‘Žπ‘›."

Zhan found himself with nothing to say. And it seemed she hadn't expected an answer anyway...she released the door handle and went back inside.

As Zhan headed downstairs, Noni stopped him at the kitchen door and handed him a small tray with water and soft drinks, warning him jokingly that she would snatch away his husband if Zhan didn't behave properly...since he clearly didn't know how to host guests.

When Zhan reached the bedroom door, he saw Yibo's shoes placed neatly to the side.

His heart clenched sharply, then scattered painfully in his chest. He swallowed slowly, removed his own shoes, and stepped inside.

His greeting hadn't even fully left his lips when his eyes landed on Yibo.

Yibo was seated on the arm of a chair facing the door, talking on the phone. He was dressed in white...soft fabric, simply tailored, fitting him perfectly. His head was bare, no cap this time, and his hair was neatly trimmed, shorter than usual.

Zhan felt something unfamiliar stir within him. Outside the hospital, he had never seen Yibo in this house without a cap. The scent of Yibo's cologne filled the room, overpowering Zhan's own perfume the moment he stepped in.

Before Zhan could move further, Yibo rose and walked toward him. They met near the center of the room, though Zhan hadn't intended to get that close.

"𝐼'𝑙𝑙 π‘π‘Žπ‘™π‘™ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘π‘Žπ‘π‘˜," Yibo said into the phone.

He ended the call, slipped the phone into his pocket, and looked at Zhan...though not directly into his eyes.

"π‘Šπ‘’π‘™π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘’. π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’ π‘šπ‘Žπ‘‘π‘’ 𝑖𝑑."

He said both at once as he closed the remaining distance between them. Before Zhan could react, he felt Yibo's hand brush his from beneath the tray. Zhan stiffened inwardly and instinctively leaned back, though physically he hadn't moved. Yibo tightened his grip slightly, the warmth of his hand spreading across Zhan's skin. His thumb slid gently into Zhan's palm, fully enclosing his hand...

just enough to make the intention unmistakable.

Then, just as suddenly, Yibo released him and took the tray.

"𝐼𝑠 π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿ π‘šπ‘’?"

His voice was low, deliberately soft, close enough that Zhan couldn't possibly miss it.

Zhan nodded and stepped back, sitting on the chair behind him.

"𝐼𝑑'𝑠 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ . π‘Šπ‘’π‘™π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘’."

Yibo remained standing, watching him. Then he smiled....a quiet smile Zhan could almost hear...and moved closer, placing the tray on the chair beside him.

What happened next was something Zhan had never imagined, not even in his most unguarded thoughts.

Yibo cupped Zhan's face in both hands, lifting his chin slightly. Zhan stared at him, shock flickering in his eyes...but Yibo didn't hesitate. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Zhan's forehead.

The moment Yibo's lips touched his skin, everything inside Zhan came alive.

His eyes fluttered shut as Yibo's scent enveloped him completely. Before his mind could fully process what was happening, Yibo lowered his face to Zhan's ear. His breath brushed against Zhan's skin as he spoke softly, each word sinking deep.

"𝐼 π‘˜π‘’π‘’π‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘Žπ‘π‘œπ‘’π‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘€π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘›π‘” 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑 π‘‘π‘œ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’, π‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›. 𝐼 π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘˜ π‘Žπ‘π‘œπ‘’π‘‘ β„Žπ‘œπ‘€ π‘‘π‘œ 𝑓𝑖π‘₯ 𝑖𝑑, π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝐼 π‘“π‘Žπ‘–π‘™ π‘’π‘£π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘¦ π‘‘π‘–π‘šπ‘’. π‘‡β„Žπ‘’ π‘œπ‘›π‘™π‘¦ π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘  π‘‘π‘œ π‘šπ‘’ 𝑖𝑠 π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘ ....π‘ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘–π‘›π‘” 𝑖𝑛 π‘“π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘›π‘‘ π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’, 𝑔𝑒𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑦, 𝑒π‘₯π‘π‘œπ‘ π‘’π‘‘, π‘’π‘šπ‘π‘‘π‘¦, 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠… π‘Žπ‘ π‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘‘π‘œ π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘”π‘–π‘£π‘’ π‘šπ‘’. π‘ƒπ‘™π‘’π‘Žπ‘ π‘’ π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘”π‘–π‘£π‘’ π‘šπ‘’, π‘π‘’π‘π‘Žπ‘’π‘ π‘’ 𝐼 π‘Žπ‘š β„Žπ‘œπ‘π‘’π‘™π‘’π‘ π‘ π‘™π‘¦ 𝑖𝑛 π‘™π‘œπ‘£π‘’ π‘€π‘–π‘‘β„Ž π‘¦π‘œπ‘’."

π‘΄π’π’π’…π’‚π’š, 26 π‘±π’‚π’π’–π’‚π’“π’š

2026

π’π’‰π’‚π’π’™π’Šπ’‚π’π’šπ’Šπ’ƒπ’πŸ’šβ€πŸ’›

More Chapters
Related Books