As they stood before the grand entrance of the Wangs’ mansion, Zhan’s nervousness was palpable. His eyes darted around, taking in the opulent architecture and the imposing doors that seemed to loom over them. The intricately carved wooden doors, adorned with golden accents, appeared to stretch up to the sky, making Zhan feel small and insignificant. He fidgeted with the hem of his jacket, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios and anxious thoughts.
Yibo, sensing his partner’s unease, placed a gentle hand on Zhan’s shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze. The subtle gesture conveyed a sense of calm and support, as if Yibo was saying, “I’ve got you, we’re in this together.”
With a nod from Yibo, they stepped forward, and the massive doors swung open to reveal a warm, golden light that spilled out onto the driveway. As they entered, they were enveloped in a tight, enthusiastic hug from Mr. Wang himself. The patriarch’s arms wrapped around them, holding them close as if he hadn’t seen them in years. His warm, spicy scent and the softness of his expensive suit enveloped them, making Zhan feel like a child again, seeking comfort in a loved one’s embrace.
As Mr. Wang released them from his bear hug, Zhan and Yibo bowed in unison, their movements fluid and respectful. Their heads dipped low, and their hands hung loosely by their sides, a gesture of deep respect and humility. However, before Zhan could fully straighten up, Mr. Wang hastened to his side, grasping his shoulders to prevent him from completing the bow. The gentle yet firm grip of Mr. Wang’s hands surprised Zhan, and he felt a surge of embarrassment At the sudden interruption, his face flushing with a mix of emotions.
“No, no, no, my dear Zhan!” Mr. Wang exclaimed, his voice booming with warmth and enthusiasm. “No bows between us, my boy. From now on, it’s hugs all the way. You’re a blessing to our family, and soon, you’ll be a part of it officially – our future son-in-law!” His words were like a warm embrace, enveloping Zhan in a sense of belonging and acceptance. Zhan’s face flushed a deep crimson as he processed Mr. Wang’s words. He felt a mix’of emotions: happiness, gratitude, and a hint of embarrassment at the lavish praise. He glanced at Yibo, seeking reassurance, and found a soft smile and a nod of encouragement.
Yibo, sensing the moment was becoming too sentimental, cleared his throat to refocus the attention. “Ah, father,” he said, his voice smooth and respectful, “we should probably discuss the details of the engagement. There’s much to be arranged, and we don’t want to keep you from your busy schedule.” Mr. Wang chuckled, releasing Zhan from his grasp, and nodded in agreement. “Ah, yes, yes, of course!Come, let’s sit down and talk turkey. Or rather, wedding plans!” He laughed heartily, leading them toward the lavish living room, adorned with priceless artwork and plush furnishings.
As they entered the lavish living room, Zhan and Yibo waited respectfully for Mr. Wang to take his seat, their eyes fixed on the patriarch as he settled into the plush armchair. Then, in a surprising gesture, they both walked towards him and knelt down, their heads bowed in humility, their hands clasped together in front of them. The soft rustle of their clothes and the creak of the floorboards beneath their knees were the only sounds in the room, as if time itself was holding its breath in anticipation.
Mr. Wang’s eyes lit up with understanding, and a warm smile spread across his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he gazed at the two young men before him. He rose from his chair, his movements deliberate and graceful, like a symphony conductor leading his orchestra. He placed his hands on Zhan’s shoulders, his touch warm and gentle, yet firm and reassuring. Zhan felt a surge of emotions at the touch, a sense of belonging and acceptance that he had never felt before.
“Zhan, my boy,” Mr. Wang began, his voice trembling with emotion, like a leaf rustled by the gentle breeze. “You know, since the first time I saw you with my son, years ago, I knew you two were fated. You brought out a side in him that I, as his father, was never able to bring out. You made him smile more, laugh more, and live more.” Mr. Wang’s eyes misted as he continued, his voice cracking with sentiment, like the delicate petals of a flower unfolding to reveal its beauty. “After his mother’s death, that terrible night, I was frantic with worry when I couldn’t find him in the hospital. He was so small, so vulnerable… but luckily, he found you in that darkest of times.”
Mr. Wang’s hands tightened on Zhan’s shoulders as he struggled to contain his emotions, his knuckles white with tension. “And when I saw the way he looked at you, I knew he admired you, idolized you even. You were his rock, his safe haven, his home.” He paused, collecting himself before continuing, his voice barely above a whisper. “But fate had other plans, and we had to move away for so many years. Despite the distance, he kept talking about you, how he missed you, how he couldn’t wait to see you again. But when he moved back... he changed. The bright spark in his eyes dimmed, and I had to figure out why.” Mr. Wang’s voice dropped to a whisper, his words barely audible, like the softest whisper of a summer breeze.
