"Get up, you coward. Are you trying to die over love?"
Those were the sharp words from His Majesty. But... He's smiling.
Startled, Yibo's eyes flew open. He blinked in surprise as he saw his father seated in front of him. Confused and embarrassed, Yibo lowered his head.
In a weak voice, he murmured, "Good morning…"
But His Majesty didn't return the greeting. Instead, he continued with a tease voice:
"I never thought of you as weak...until now. You're just lying there, ready to die over someone… all because you've let your emotions get the better of you?"
Yibo said nothing. His heart was pounding, but only he truly understood the weight pressing on his chest. They wouldn't understand...no one would.
His Majesty continued to watch him closely, a small smile playing at his lips.
"Lift your head and look at me," he ordered, rolling up one sleeve.
Yibo obeyed, looking up cautiously.
His Majesty tapped his chest with a firm finger.
"You see me? I don't lose. Not when it comes to what I want. If I decide I want something, I get it. Ask your mother—she's a witness. I fought for her, I pulled her from Henan and brought her here. I won her over. But you—one person—can't even fight for the one you love? Can't win his heart?"
He paused briefly, then added with a softer tone:
"Although... I must say, I don't support injustice."
He smoothed his sleeve back down, having revealed the scar on his arm, a symbol of his personal battles and strength—the price of fighting for love.
"Since you couldn't do it... I did it for you. I won your husband back."
Yibo didn't even wait for the rest of the sentence. With trembling hands, he grabbed his father's hand tightly, lips moving, but no words came out. His Majesty laughed.
"Let go—don't celebrate too early. I haven't even finished what I was saying."
Flushed with embarrassment, Yibo gently released his father's hand.
"Zhan will return to you—once he is ready. I've given him the freedom to decide that for himself. Because I refuse to trample over his rights again."
His Majesty's tone shifted. He was back to being King Mo Yi, stern and composed.
"Yibo, what you and your mother planned and carried out truly disappointed me. It shook me. It showed me how little value you place in my position—or in me as your father. And even though 90% of the fault is your mother's, you still bear part of the blame."
He stared hard at Yibo before continuing.
"I am your father. The one person who deserved to be informed when you were thinking about marriage—not just your mother. I gave you both every chance to talk to me, to let us grow closer. I would've helped you. Thankfully, at least, you stayed away from reckless behavior and didn't end up with someone unworthy. I'm grateful that you found Zhan through the right path. I'm grateful your children were born within marriage, giving them full claim to the Tianjin throne."
"Second—never feel obligated to obey anyone, even a parent, when it risks your happiness. Choose yourself first. Only when you love yourself can others truly love you. If you see your mother straying from the right path, try to guide her—with kindness and respect. And if she still refuses, then you must protect your own path."
"Lastly—you ignored your responsibilities as a human being. You let go of your marriage and your son's just because your mother said so. That was your biggest mistake. This suffering now—let it be your lesson, your atonement. And that man—go to him, apologize, love him, and be a real husband to him. Fix what you broke."
Head bowed, Yibo listened in silence, filled with remorse—but also with a renewed sense of purpose. A new warmth bloomed in his chest—love, admiration, and deep gratitude for his father.
His Majesty didn't linger. He gave Yibo a final look, then left the room.
Left alone, Yibo's thoughts swirled like a storm—but this time, it wasn't despair. It was hope.
Hope... and a plan.
He suddenly wanted to jump out of bed and run to Zhan. But he knew he had to be careful. He had a plan—one he believed would bring Zhan straight to him without delay.
From Yibo's room, the palace doctor entered. He had been on duty all night and hadn't yet left.
His Majesty had called for him earlier. They spoke in private for nearly twenty minutes. Instructions were given. Orders were clear.
Once their conversation ended, His Majesty exited the hospital, leaving behind only his firm expectations—and a doorway opening toward reconciliation.
~**~
Among her attendants, the Queen entered the hospital quietly. She hadn't even reached Yibo's room when the doctor requested to speak with her. She didn't wait for him to come find her—she walked straight into his office, already brimming with unease and dread about what she might hear regarding Yibo's test results.
"Your Majesty," the doctor began, "as I previously mentioned, the real threat to his health isn't physical—it's emotional. This emotional burden he's carrying has clearly been building for a long time. If we don't resolve it, if he isn't relieved of it soon, I'm afraid the consequences could be fatal. I had hoped to spare you the weight of this information, but I see no value in hiding it. I've already informed His Majesty. In my professional opinion, the best course of action now is to eliminate whatever is causing this distress. Otherwise… anything can happen."
The air conditioning filled the office with a cool chill, but the Queen still broke into a nervous sweat. She was too shaken to say much beyond a quiet, "Thank you, Doctor." Then she turned and left.
Anyone who accompanied her could see it clearly—she was no longer herself. She entered Yibo's hospital room. He lay there just as she had left him yesterday—no visible improvement, no sign of recovery.
"Could it be… has nothing changed since yesterday?" she wondered, her anxiety rising fast.
She stepped closer to his bed, her gaze fixed on his face. His gaunt cheeks made her stomach twist. Slowly, gently, she placed her hand on his hair.
For the first time, something unexpected stirred inside her—something that felt like compassion… maybe even regret. The things she had done began replaying in her mind, vividly and painfully.
How did it get this far?
How did I let it happen like this?
If the marriage and the separation she had orchestrated were so calculated—if there had been any long-term plan behind her decisions—why had she ignored all the evidence that kept presenting itself afterward?
This was Yibo—her son. The one who had always stood out from her other children. From boyhood to manhood, he had never disobeyed her. Not once had he refused a command. Even when her instructions went against his desires, he always answered with, "Yes, Mom." Why had she chosen to ruin his happiness? Why couldn't she support the one thing he truly wanted?
Her thoughts turned to his twins.
If someone had separated me from Nalan, and him, how would I have felt?
She remembered every battle she'd fought in the Tianjin palace—how fiercely she had protected her children so they could grow up with her. And yet, here she was—the reason her own son had been kept away from his children for years.
Even so, Yibo never stopped being loyal. Never stopped calling her his mother. Never stopped honoring her. He had endured everything, and still, he stayed devoted.
That was a heart of gold. A man worthy of love and redemption.
If he could do all of that for me, then I must do the same for him.
No more hesitation. No more pride.
I must give him back everything—Zhan, his children, and his peace.
By the time her thoughts ended, she lifted her hand from his head and turned toward the door with sudden urgency. What she didn't know was that Yibo, who had been silently aware of her presence the whole time, slowly opened one eye and watched her leave. He could almost taste the victory—something inside him told him change was finally on its way.
She pulled open the door and stepped out. But just as she did, she nearly bumped into someone—Qiantang, looking anxious and breathless, her mother is right behind her. Behind them, their elder servant followed with arms full of dishes inside the basket.
One look at the Queen, and you could tell: her usual regal charm had faded. Her face bore none of the warm welcome or commanding pride that normally accompanied her presence. She exchanged only a few quiet words with Qiantang mother, then turned and continued walking ahead, calling out the names of a few attendants to follow her out.
That morning, Zhan gathered the male kids and took them all to the hair salon. Meanwhile, Aunt Anu took the women to the market for shopping.
About thirty minutes after they left, Queen Zhaiye arrived unannounced at Aunt Anu's house. At the gate, the security guard recognized her and respectfully informed her that the family wasn't home. Still, she chose to wait, regardless of how long it might take for them to return.
In the courtyard, she instructed her attendants to remain outside and wait for her. She alone entered the house and found a seat in the compound.
The housekeeper was surprised to see such a high-profile guest. The last time Queen Zhaiye came, she hadn't been expected, and no one was informed of her arrival. Her face was familiar, especially to anyone who watched the news or followed charitable work—she was known for running support programs for the underprivileged across Tianjin and frequently appeared in the media for her donations and initiatives.
Respectfully, the housekeeper allowed her to enter the sitting room and served her kindly, confirming that the family had gone out but wouldn't be long. Queen Zhaiye assured her she was willing to wait.
Soon after, the housekeeper picked up the phone in the kitchen and called Aunt Anu to inform her.
"Who is it?" Aunt Anu asked.
Excitedly, the housekeeper answered,
"It's Her Majesty, the Queen."
"The Queen?" Aunt Anu repeated in surprise, her thoughts instantly racing. What could have brought her back here? Whatever the reason, she didn't want Queen Zhaiye to encounter Zhan. Any meeting between them might shatter the fragile peace and clarity Zhan had recently begun to regain.
"Alright. We're on our way," she said before hanging up and dialing Zhan's new number.
After two rings, he answered.
"Where are you?" she asked directly.
Zhan, unaware of anything unusual, responded casually,
"We're done, Momma. Just left the salon. Already on the road back."
She exhaled in worry. There was no way to stop his return now. Perhaps fate had aligned for this encounter to happen today. She paused long enough for Zhan to ask, "Is everything alright, Momma?"
"Everything's fine. See you soon—I'm also heading home now," she said before ending the call and leaving her remaining shopping behind. The rest was loaded into the car, and she made her way home.
Meanwhile, Zhan and kids arrived at the house by taxi, walking in with Jianghu ahead of him, calling his name and scolding him for running too fast.
At that exact moment, Queen Zhaiye was seated in the sitting room. Hearing unfamiliar voices, she rose and moved closer to the entryway, her heart pounding with anticipation.
Jianghu entered first—and Queen Zhaiye instantly swept him up into her arms. The boy hadn't expected it and stiffened in surprise. When he looked into her face, recognition dawned—he remembered the woman who had come before, the one Aunt Anu had refused to let see them. His confusion grew into fear, and he let out a small scream, squirming out of her grasp.
Zhan, who had just stepped into the courtyard, immediately noticed the Queen's attendants. His instincts kicked in. Where were they from? Who were they? Jianghu's cry sent him and Niu rushing toward the sitting room.
The housekeeper chuckled nervously and said, "What's going on, twins? You don't recognize her? He's always been the clingy one. Mr. Zhan knows better than anyone."
Then, everything fell silent as Zhan and Queen Zhaiye locked eyes.
She studied his face carefully. Yes—there was no mistake. It was him. Zhan. She had memorized his face from the countless photographs circulated within the palace walls.
Zhan's heart pounded violently. He recognized her too. The Queen. Yibo's mother. The woman he'd seen so many times on TV. The celebrated humanitarian. The public darling.
Yet to Zhan, she was something else entirely.
She was the reason behind his pain.
The reason behind the turmoil that had plagued his life.
Aunt Anu's voice broke the silence. She'd just entered the sitting room.
Zhan turned and met her eyes. Without a word, he looked away and walked quietly toward his room.
No one tried to stop him. No one said a thing. He disappeared down the hallway.
Only after he left did Aunt Anu speak, her tone sharp and unforgiving.
"Why are you here again?"
"Peace. I'm here for peace," Queen Zhaiye said softly, clasping her hands tightly in front of her.
"Please, I beg you—let us talk. I've come ready to do anything, everything, just to make things right. I want to cleanse myself of this past. I want to restore what I took from my only son. I want to bring joy back into his life. I want to make things whole again—whatever it takes."
Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛