Wife, who?

Xu Wei was good at ignoring problems.

Back in his old life, whenever something got too complicated, he either laughed it off or ran in the opposite direction.

But this?

This was different.

Because no matter how much he tried to ignore it—

Zhihao was still there.

And he was getting harder to ignore.

It started with small things.

Xu Wei was used to Zhihao being distant, cold, unreadable.

But now, sometimes, when they were in the same room, Zhihao would glance at him before looking away.

Sometimes, Xu Wei would crack a joke, and he'd catch the slightest twitch of Zhihao's lips—like he was holding back a smile.

Sometimes, they'd stand near each other, and it would feel too close.

Like right now.

Xu Wei was standing in the kitchen, reaching for a glass on the shelf.

And suddenly, Zhihao was behind him, reaching for the same thing.

Their arms brushed.

Xu Wei froze.

Zhihao didn't move either.

For a second—just a second—the world tilted.

The space between them felt too small.

Xu Wei stepped away first.

"Y'know," he said, voice a little too loud, "we should probably talk about boundaries. Like, personal space. A whole meter apart at all times. Minimum."

Zhihao raised an eyebrow. "You're the one who walked into my space."

"Details." Xu Wei waved him off and grabbed his glass, turning away before his brain could fully process what just happened.

This was bad.

He had lived twenty-nine years as a certified flirt and never once had he felt nervous over something as stupid as brushing arms.

So why the hell did this feel different?

Why did Zhihao feel different?

Xu Wei didn't have an answer.

And honestly?

He didn't want one.

That evening, Xu Wei was heading to his room when he heard it.

Zhihao's voice.

Low. Controlled. But frustrated.

Xu Wei paused outside the study.

He wasn't one to eavesdrop (lie—he totally was), but something about the way Zhihao was speaking made him linger.

"I don't care what the investors are saying," Zhihao said coldly. "The contract is staying as it is."

A pause.

Then, quieter—tired.

"I'll handle it myself."

Xu Wei exhaled.

This man.

Carrying everything alone, shouldering the weight of an entire empire, never once asking for help.

It was annoying.

So, before he could overthink it, Xu Wei did something reckless.

He knocked on the door and stepped inside.

Zhihao glanced up, startled.

Xu Wei held up a cup of tea.

"Drink this," he said.

Zhihao frowned. "Why?"

"Because if you collapse from exhaustion, I'll have to explain it to the kids, and I don't like awkward conversations."

Zhihao's gaze narrowed.

For a second, Xu Wei thought he'd refuse.

But then—slowly, Zhihao took the cup.

Xu Wei smirked. "See? That wasn't so hard."

Zhihao exhaled, shaking his head. "You're impossible."

"And yet, here we are."

Xu Wei turned to leave, but just before he stepped out—

Zhihao spoke.

"...Thank you."

Xu Wei stopped.

His grip on the doorframe tightened.

He didn't look back.

Didn't say anything.

Because if he did, he might have to admit it—

That the distance between them wasn't just small.

It was disappearing.

And that terrified him.