THEIR WORTH...

"I have a question for you," Yibo said.

Zhan gave a small nod, still silent. He noticed Yibo hesitating, something unusual for him. It was as if he was carefully weighing his words, unlike his usual direct manner.

Then, Yibo cleared his throat, and his voice finally emerged.

"Will you marry me, Zhan?"

The words hit Zhan like an explosion, shaking him to his core. His heartbeat thundered in his chest, his breath caught in his throat, and for a brief moment, all sound around him seemed to vanish. His mind went completely blank, as if everything had been erased in an instant.

He turned to face Yibo, eyes wide in disbelief, staring as if trying to process something beyond comprehension.

Did he really just say that?

At first, the question made sense in Zhan's mind. But as the seconds passed and the weight of Yibo's words settled in, he found himself struggling to grasp their meaning. He kept staring at him, his face reflecting nothing but sheer astonishment.

For the first time in his life, Yibo felt something unfamiliar coursing through him—something he couldn't quite name. Even earlier, when he had discussed this with Guang, he hadn't anticipated the gravity of the situation. He thought he was prepared, but seeing the look on Zhan's face now made him realize otherwise.

From the moment he had started working in this field, Yibo had always followed a simple rule: if something helped him succeed and didn't go against his principles, he would do it. And once he got what he wanted, that was the end of it—no attachments, no unnecessary complications. That was how their entire profession operated.

Even marriage was just another tool. He could count on one hand the number of people in his line of work who had ever truly settled down. Most agents who were sent on long-term missions lived double lives, pretending to be ordinary citizens, even getting married. But when their assignment was over, they would abandon their spouses and disappear. The cautious ones never even had children, knowing they might have to leave at any moment.

So, when he had spoken to Shan Tunan and confirmed his invitation, he had deliberately mentioned that he would be bringing HIS "husband." He had done this for two reasons. First, he didn't want Shan Tunan to grow suspicious of him or Zhan. He knew Shan Tunan had already investigated his past from start to finish, so if he introduced Zhan as his younger brother, it would only raise doubts. There was no record of Yibo having any siblings, and that kind of scrutiny could unravel everything.

More importantly, any investigation into Zhan's past would eventually uncover the truth about him and Peng. Yibo knew that Shan Tunan had access to almost any piece of information—if something wasn't already in his grasp, it was only a matter of time before he found it.

By presenting Zhan as his husband, Yibo ensured that Shan Tunan wouldn't dig too deep. After all, in their line of work, getting married in secret wasn't unusual. It was a common strategy—one that allowed them to protect themselves and their so-called families from unwanted attention.

And then there was the second reason: Yibo had no idea how long Zhan would have to stay by his side before he could clear his name and free him from the situation he was trapped in. If Zhan had to remain with him for a while, then it only made sense to introduce him as his spouse—it was the easiest way to avoid suspicion.

Once everything was over—once he had taken his revenge and ensured Zhan was safe—then they could both walk away. No strings attached.

This was a simple calculation in Yibo's mind, and he saw no flaw in it whatsoever. After all, he had changed his name and identity countless times whenever a mission required it—what difference would this make?

"Work is one thing, but marriage is another, Yibo. Marriage isn't something you can predict, no matter how much you try."

That was exactly what Guang had told him earlier when they spoke over the phone, right after Yibo had stepped out to buy them food.

"The only thing I need to know," Guang continued, "is whether you're absolutely certain this is the right path forward."

Yibo had remained silent for a moment, then let out a slow exhale, running a hand over the bridge of his nose while scanning the people around him in the restaurant.

"I have no other option, Guang. I know Shan Tunan—I know his history, and I'm starting to understand just how much power he holds. And deep down, I truly believe he can help me achieve my goal. Even though I don't know his full story, I can tell he carries his own scars. After all, the world thinks he's dead, yet here he is, very much alive."

"So, if I approach him in a way that raises suspicion from the start, how do you think our relationship will progress?"

Guang nodded on the other end of the line from his office in Guangzhou.

"You have a point… But what I see as the real issue here, Yibo, is the gravity of marriage."

Yibo absently rubbed the bridge of his nose again, his gaze drifting to a married couple sitting a few tables away. He watched them as if trying to grasp the weight of their bond—something Guang kept emphasizing. But for him, marriage had never held any profound significance. People got married, life went on, and nothing truly changed.

"Believe me, this is the best way, Guang. I can't just keep dragging the boy around with no explanation—you know that wouldn't be right. I just need to find a way to clear his name, and once that's done, we can both move on."

Guang nodded slowly.

"But in the state he's in, do you really think he'll agree to this? And what about his parents—how will they react later?"

Yibo exhaled again, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. He hadn't thought about that. He had planned everything out meticulously, but he hadn't actually considered asking Zhan for his consent. As for his family, that part didn't worry him as much. After everything Zhan had told him, it was clear that even he didn't fully know his own origins—let alone have any close blood relatives who could oppose this.

"I understand your concerns, Guang, I do," Yibo finally admitted. "But this isn't a small matter. It's not something you can decide on your own. You need his agreement—otherwise, nothing will go as planned. So, you have to ask him first. You need his consent. Because no matter what happens between you two afterward, this is something that will stay with him for the rest of his life."

Guang repeated his words over the phone, and Yibo nodded to himself.

"Alright, I'll do it. It's not a big deal, really. As long as everything goes according to plan, that's all that matters. I've faced situations far worse than this, Guang."

He heard Guang chuckle softly on the other end.

"That's what you think, but I'm telling you—marriage isn't a game."

With that, their conversation ended, though Guang made sure to emphasize the weight of the decision Yibo still refused to acknowledge. Now, as he stood before Zhan, Yibo finally began to grasp the gravity of it all. Zhan was staring at him, eyes filled with a mix of shock and fear, reflecting the same uncertainty Yibo had seen in his sister's gaze. It was a look that threatened to shatter not just Yibo's confidence but also everything he had carefully planned.

Was now really the right time to ask him?

His instincts warned him that if Zhan kept looking at him like that, everything would fall apart in an instant. So, without hesitation, he began speaking.

"I'm not talking about a real, lifelong marriage, Zhan. I mean just for the time being, for as long as we need to be together. There's something I need to accomplish, and it won't work if we keep moving around like this without any real connection. Even for you, this would serve as a form of protection until things settle down and you can return home."

Only then did Yibo notice the subtle movement in Zhan's throat, as if he was struggling to swallow the weight of the words. He turned his face away, as though trying to process the logic behind Yibo's reasoning. For a brief moment, Yibo felt relief—like his words were sinking in. But as soon as Zhan turned back to face him, everything changed. Beyond the initial shock, his eyes now held something deeper—pain, maybe even resignation.

"I don't know what to say," Zhan murmured. "I don't know what the right response should be. My life has already turned upside down, and in my current situation, this feels like something far beyond my control."

He shifted in his seat, turning slightly away.

"Life never gives a person more than they can handle, Zhan. Everything that's happening now, and everything that's yet to come, is part of your fate—it was always meant to be this way," Yibo said, his voice steady. "I don't want you to overthink this. I just need you to see this marriage as a shield—something to protect us during this time. I don't expect anything else from you. Just trust me, and believe that I won't hurt you. In fact, I'm doing this to help you. That's all I need from you."

Yibo spoke with as much calm conviction as he could gather. Yet, Zhan remained silent, head lowered, lost in thought.

Yibo let out a slow breath and turned the key in the ignition. As the car rumbled to life, he pulled onto the road, the tires spinning against the pavement, their movement concealed behind the tinted windows.

"We have about an hour before we reach Shenzhen," Yibo said, keeping his eyes on the road. "I'd like to hear your answer before then because that's when everything I've set in motion will begin. Don't force yourself—whatever your answer is, I'll accept it, and we'll find a way forward."

:-*:-*:-*:-*:-*

It was a nice house—simple but well-kept. A modest flat with a compound filled with trees and flowers. From the outside, you could see the veranda leading into the living room. Inside, the room was furnished with curtains, sofas, a television, and a stand holding it. Against one of the walls, an unrolled carpet was propped up, waiting to be laid out.

To the right of the living room, a small corridor led to a bedroom. The room contained a bed frame, a mattress, and a small bedside rug that was also leaning against the wall. There was also a bathroom door beside a mirror.

On the left side of the living room, a second corridor led to the kitchen. The kitchen was spacious, lined with drawers and tiled walls. However, aside from a gas cooker nestled between the drawers and two refrigerators—one upright and the other chest-style—there wasn't a single utensil in sight.

Returning to the center of the living room, there was a third corridor, wider than the others, leading to two bedrooms. Each had its own attached bathroom, but only one of them had a bed. The other contained only curtains and a carpet spread across the floor.

It was a well-planned home, with everything in place except for the essential everyday items needed for a comfortable life. But right now, Zhan wasn't concerned about that.

Since arriving in Shenzhen and stepping into this house, he had gone straight to the room with only the carpet and sat there, deep in thought, trying to make sense of Yibo's difficult proposition. For the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of calm, the weight in his chest easing slightly compared to how he had felt earlier.

When they arrived, they had found three men inside—tall, imposing figures who looked like security personnel. From the moment he saw them, Zhan had suspected they were armed, though he wasn't sure if he was imagining things or if he had truly glimpsed a gun on one of them.

He had left Yibo outside with them, listening to their conversation drifting in from a distance. But now, the house had gone silent. It seemed they had all left.

That gave Zhan the confidence to pull himself together and step back into the living room. He sat down, letting his gaze sweep across the space. It was clear that someone had put a lot of effort into preparing the house before their arrival. Every corner was spotless, not a single speck of dust in sight. Despite everything weighing on him, Zhan couldn't deny that the house was beautiful. Something about its atmosphere helped ease the turmoil in his heart—so much so that he almost felt a sense of peace settling over him.

So, this was where they would stay?

Was this the place where he would spend the coming days, sharing a home with a man whose name was the only thing he knew about him?

The silence of the living room only amplified the pounding of his heart. The beauty of the house wasn't what occupied his mind. It wasn't even the thought that he—Zhan, who knew himself well—was utterly unsuited for this situation. No, it was the endless stream of questions filling his head.

What would his life be like now?

What would happen to him? What was going to happen from this moment forward?

When would he go home?

Would things really fall into place the way Yibo claimed?

Would his life ever return to what it once was?

The image of his home flashed through his mind.

What would his siblings say?

What would everyone think once they learned what had happened to him from the moment he left home until now?

Aunty Rui…

How would she feel if she knew the full weight of the situation he had been thrown into and the decision he was now about to make?

During their journey here, Zhan hadn't thought about any of this. His mind had been stuck on one thing: the choice Yibo had given him—to find his own answer. And he had tried. He had thought through every possibility, weighed every outcome, only to realize there was no escape. No solution.

Yibo had even given him an option to say no.

But even if he rejected the proposal, where would that leave him? Where could he go? He had no other place to turn to, no way out of this situation.

And so, now that he had finally allowed himself to process everything, he had made his decision.

He would accept Yibo's proposal.

With no choice left, he would agree to this marriage.

To marry a man whose name was the only thing he truly knew after just two days together.

But…

The door to the living room suddenly opened, pulling him out of his thoughts. Yibo entered, followed by two of the security men, both carrying large bags.

Yibo was on a call, speaking in a low, unreadable tone, while the security men spoke amongst themselves as they began setting the bags down.

As Yibo ended his call, their eyes met for the second time that day.

For the first time, Zhan truly took in Yibo's presence—his commanding aura, the weight of his gaze. Something about him felt more intense, more striking than before.

Zhan's heart leapt to his throat, as if trying to block his breath. Butterflies stirred in his stomach, unfamiliar and unsettling.

He had no choice. He had already decided. He would accept this marriage.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't have his own conditions...

Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛