Continuation: Ziyi and Jili exchanged quick, knowing glances before shaking their heads. “We’re busy,” they said in unison, their expressions politely deflecting while Yibo understood perfectly. Zhan, caught between gratitude and propriety, simply focused back on his dessert and nodded, agreeing silently. The rest of the evening passed in a warm, unspoken camaraderie. When it ended, Yibo personally ensured they were taken home safely. Even as they stepped out, Zhan found himself saying “thank you” once more heartfelt and unpolished. —- Weeks turned into months, and the Re-start project moved forward with astonishing speed. Hundreds of workers filled the site, machines humming from dawn till dusk, yet amidst the clamor, something quieter was taking shape. The distance between Yibo and Zhan once marked by unease and formality was slowly dissolving. Whenever Yibo visited the site, Zhan was always there, sleeves rolled up, voice steady as he gave instructions to his team. Yibo watched from a distance at first, curious how this once-timid young man had become the calm center of such chaos. And Zhan, though still respectful, had grown more at ease around his boss. Sometimes, when tension ran high, he would even crack a small joke one that made Yibo’s lips twitch in amusement before he quickly masked it again. Those moments were brief but golden. Between blueprints and schedules, quiet glances and unspoken understanding began to build something neither of them could name something as real as the foundation they were laying for the project itself. Zhan noticed the smallest things the warmth of Yibo’s office lighting, the careful arrangement of items, the rare moments when his boss’s guard slipped, revealing the quiet loneliness beneath the dominant persona. And though he would never admit it, a sense of awe began to mingle with the residual fear. Around the same time, life outside the Re-start site was shifting too. Zhan, after many sleepless nights, decided to give Jackson one last chance. It wasn’t forgiveness not completely, but a quiet promise to himself that he would have no regrets. If Jackson failed him again, that would be the end. He wouldn’t beg, he wouldn’t break. This would be their final attempt. Yibo, meanwhile, had also opened a door for his son. Though disappointment still lingered in his eyes, he chose to give Jackson another chance to prove himself. But this time, there would be rules. Jackson would live again in the Wang estate, no longer in his own place, and receive a strict monthly allowance enough to live, but not enough to waste. It was Yibo’s way of testing him, of teaching him responsibility. One quiet evening, Yibo called Zhan into his office to finish reviewing some documents. The city stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, glittering beneath the haze of night. Inside, only the soft hum of the air conditioner and the faint scratch of pen on paper filled the silence. For a while, neither spoke. Zhan worked diligently beside him, sorting through reports with that quiet focus Yibo had come to recognize steady, sincere, never complaining. Every now and then, Yibo would glance up, watching how the lamplight brushed against Zhan’s face, how his brows furrowed in concentration. When the last file was set aside, Zhan exhaled softly, stretching his shoulders. “Finally done,” he murmured, almost to himself. Yibo’s lips curved faintly. “You’ve been working hard lately.” Zhan blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected praise. “It’s nothing, sir. Just doing my job.” “Not everyone takes their job this seriously,” Yibo replied, leaning back slightly. “Most people look at the clock long before the work is finished.” Zhan smiled a little, shy but genuine. “Maybe I just don’t like leaving things half-done.” Yibo hummed quietly in agreement, eyes still on him. “That’s a rare trait these days.” His voice softened, losing its usual sharp edge. “You remind me of someone I used to know.” Zhan tilted his head. “Someone important?” Yibo didn’t answer right away. He turned his gaze toward the window, the city lights reflected faintly in his eyes. “Someone who believed effort mattered more than excuses.” A beat of silence passed between them. The air shifted less like work, more like something personal neither of them had planned. Then, almost as if the thought slipped out on its own, Yibo said quietly, “Tell me, Zhan… when it comes to love, do you ever think age matters?”
3 days ago | 32
Beautiful chapter, connecting all the dots…age is definitely not an issue for Zhan, I can see his sensible side not caring at all…Jackson & his friends are the poster children for, it’s all about me, not you…what’s mine is mine, what’s yours is also mine… these rich kids are heartless, selfish, rude, liers & cheaters big time…if you aren’t rich & have a pedigree, you are nobody & not worth my time !!! But give me a loan, will ya !!!! Write on Ghostwriter, I’m loving this🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 💜👬
2 days ago | 2
Oh that was wonderful, perfect, rare, raw, emotional, deep and just also giving hope…a bit fear too…I hope Yibo will see, that Jackson was the one who broke Zhan so much, his trust, love, heart. And when it happens again, he will be there and know and pick up the pieces and make him whole again. Zhan seeing the man behind the cold mask, the loneliness and also the big heart and hopefully the love and care, yibo can and will give… no..please..age can not be a problem between them…only the heart and the love can mean something and count…
2 days ago | 3
Beautiful chapter,admin. Zhan seems to be the child who once begged Yibo to give them time to move to another shelter. He was at the forefront. So, he appears familiar to Yibo. The cold tycoon is gradually warming up. How I wish that this Jackson fellow had nothing to do with Zhan anymore. I can' t trust him. He has no strength of character. These people crack under temptation and let go their principle easily. Pls continue,writer. It is becoming interesting day by day.
3 days ago | 4
आखिर कार Yibo ने अपना पहला कदम तो उठाया zan की तरफ,,,,,, let's see what happens next part ✍️🤞🤞💚
3 days ago | 3
Admin please make the next, next, next chapter faster. Forgive me for asking this. I dont know why I feel for yibo. Immagine how he feels once he knows zhan is his son's boyfriend.🥹🥹🥹🥹. I can immagine how lonely he feels no matter how he masked his feeling
3 days ago | 8
YiZhanwangxian2026
WHEN EYES REMEMBER 💚❤️
PART 45
She nodded. "Yes, around that. It was a small, old building, not in great shape, but it was home for us. Then one day, Sister, the nun who managed it, received the notice that funding would stop. They had no way to keep feeding or housing us. I still remember the day she told us... her hands were shaking. Some of the younger kids started crying because they didn't understand what it meant."
The room grew quieter, the music seeming to fade into the background.
"Then what happened?" Yibo asked softly.
Ziyi glanced at Zhan again, who still hadn't spoken, just quietly pushing the last bite of dessert on his plate, as if every word was something he already knew too well. She took a deep breath and went on. "They were planning to shut the place down completely. The land itself was being sold for redevelopment, so they wanted everyone out immediately."
"Immediately?" Yibo's tone held disbelief now.
"Yes," Ziyi said softly, her voice trembling. "They gave no time to prepare, not even a day. We were just children, ten, maybe eleven. No one knew where to go or what to do. Everyone was crying. The sisters were helpless."
She paused, her gaze distant. "And that's when... Zhan stepped forward. He went to the owner himself. I still remember that moment his hands were trembling, but he stood there, refusing to move until they listened. He begged them not to drive the children out like that. He told them that if they threw the children out, it would destroy them. He promised that we would leave in one week if they just gave us that chance."
Her voice cracked. "He bowed again and again, until his knees hit the floor. He wouldn't stop until the owner finally agreed to give us time. Not because he wanted to because he didn't know what else to do with a boy crying and begging in front of him."
Yibo didn't say anything. His jaw tightened ever so slightly, eyes never leaving Zhan.
Zhan quietly set down his spoon. Jili nodded, picking up the story. "It was impossible, honestly. We were just young. But then Zhan said, 'If no one gives us a place, we'll make one.' And he meant it."
She paused, her tone warming with pride. "He found an old abandoned house on the outskirts of town half ruined, walls cracked, but still standing. It wasn't much, but to us, it looked like hope." Her eyes softened at the memory. "When he talked to the owner, the man said the property would cost three hundred thousand. We didn't even have three hundred in our hands back then."
Yibo frowned slightly. "Three hundred thousand?"
Ziyi nodded. "Yes. Zhan didn't argue he just explained everything. About the orphanage, the children, how we were being forced out. He didn't ask for pity, only time." She smiled faintly. "And somehow he made people listen. The owner finally agreed to let us pay little by little every month."
For a moment, Yibo's gaze softened something unguarded flickering behind his eyes. Quiet admiration, maybe, or something deeper he didn't fully understand yet.
Ziyi smiled faintly at the memory, though her eyes shimmered. "Then, with the little savings he had, he gave the first down payment. We used whatever we could scrape together for the renovation. Even the nuns helped us paint and fix broken walls. We didn't have much, but at least the children had a roof."
Her voice trembled slightly. "We were just ten, still going to school, still trying to survive ourselves but we worked hard so that the others wouldn't end up on the streets. Zhan..." she stopped, glancing at him again, her throat tightening. "Zhan was different. He wasn't scared of anything. He carried everything for everyone. Even now, he still sends money there whenever he can."
Yibo's expression was unreadable but his eyes told another story. They lingered on Zhan with quiet intensity, as if he were seeing him for the first time. Not as an employee, but as someone who carried quiet strength beneath all his scars someone Yibo couldn't quite look away from.
From that moment, Zhan and the two friends opposite him earned the respect of the tycoon, the richest man in the world. Yibo found himself unable to imagine the kind of courage it must have taken to endure what they had. To fight when everything seemed lost. To keep standing when everyone else had given up.
What struck him most was that even the other two Zhan's closest friends had once been ready to give up, to accept the cruel reality that there was nothing more they could do. But Zhan hadn't. He refused to surrender. Instead, he stood for all of them for the frightened children who had no one left to speak for them, for the fragile home they still called family.
At that age, they could have walked away with no ties and no obligation. No one would have blamed them. Yet they didn't. Especially Zhan who fought with nothing but his voice, his courage, and his belief that those children deserved one more chance. And somehow, that quiet defiance born not from privilege, but from heart stirred something deep within Yibo, something he hadn't felt in a very long time.
Ziyi noticed that gaze too. She elbowed Jili lightly under the table, nodding toward Yibo. Jili turned and froze, his breath catching when he saw how Yibo was looking at Zhan. That kind of silence could only be born from something deep something unspoken.
Ziyi cleared her throat softly, forcing a smile to break the tension. "Anyway, if it weren't for Zhan's courage and... well, stubbornness, I don't know what would've happened to those kids. We owe him everything."
Zhan finally looked up, his voice calm but firm. "Ziyi," he said quietly, "enough."
She blinked, startled. He gave a small, polite smile though his eyes carried a sadness that made the candlelight seem dimmer. "Let's just eat. We're here for dinner, not stories." The air around the table thickened again. Even the faint hum of conversation from nearby tables felt distant.
Yibo said nothing. He only leaned back slightly, still watching Zhan with a gaze that no longer carried curiosity but a slow, dawning understanding.
He realized then that the two opposite Zhan weren't just friends. They were his family the kind that life forges through struggle and loyalty, not blood. What struck Yibo most was their sincerity. In front of him, the richest man in the world, they could have easily claimed the spotlight, taken credit to make themselves look good. But they hadn't. They had given it all to Zhan, without hesitation or pride. It was rare. Too rare.
For a fleeting moment, Yibo found himself wishing his own son had friends like that, people who would teach him the meaning of responsibility, of standing beside someone not for what they could gain, but because it was the right thing to do.
He glanced at the three again, quiet admiration glinting behind his composed expression. In a world where so many wore masks to survive, these three still managed to stay human.
The soft glow of the restaurant’s private lighting seemed to settle around them, cocooning the four in an intimate world apart from the night outside. After a long pause, Yibo finally spoke, his voice calm but commanding.
“I’ll be sponsoring the orphanage from now on,” he said simply.
The words landed like a ripple across the table. The three of them Zhan, Ziyi, and Jili blinked in unison, their attention snapping fully to the man beside them. The children they had fought so hard for, the fragile home they had built with trembling hands and hearts full of hope it was no longer just their project. Someone else would now stand beside them, lending weight, resources, and authority.
Zhan’s throat tightened. His hands clenched the edges of his napkin, but the tears came anyway small and unbidden. A simple thank you seemed to carry everything they felt: relief, gratitude, disbelief. He finally looked at Yibo, voice barely above a whisper but laden with sincerity. “Sir… from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I’ll never forget this kindness.”
He wiped his cheeks quickly, not wanting to reveal the full weight of emotion. Yibo, ever composed, noticed the quiet gesture. For a fraction of a second, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips almost imperceptible before his face returned to its usual stone calm.
“No need for that,” he said evenly. “You deserve this.”
Then, as if noticing the hesitation in their eyes, he added, almost offhandedly, “Don’t use your own money.”
But he caught their reaction immediately the subtle shift in posture, the barely concealed pride and knew they already had. The three shook their heads quickly when he offered, “If you’ve already sent money, I’ll return it.”
“It’s okay,” Ziyi said, firm but respectful. The others nodded in quiet agreement.
Yibo didn’t push further, but his gaze remained locked on Zhan. There was something about the boy’s quiet strength his unspoken bravery that commanded attention without demanding it.
“Tomorrow,” Yibo continued, his voice lighter now, “if you have free time, bring me there. I want to see it for myself.”
#yzwx2026 #yzwx2026 #yizhanff
3 days ago | [YT] | 1,168