Legal Love [YIZHAN]

4. Why? Just Why?

Wang Yibo's POV,

So, here I am, standing outside this furniture joint, ready to make a statement. What's the plan, you ask? Well, it's time to deck out that spare room and make it my own little haven. No more crashing on the sofa or tiptoeing around Zhan's silent treatment. Nope, I'm taking charge.

First things first, I need a bed. A big, comfy one where I can stretch out and catch some Zs without worrying about falling off the dang couch. Then, a wardrobe. Can't have my clothes scattered all over the place, right? Gotta keep it organized.

Oh, and let's not forget the study table. Need a spot to get some work done, away from all the drama. Plus, maybe I can finally have a peaceful night's sleep without Zhan's snoring echoing through the apartment.

So, I stroll into the showroom like I own the place, checking out all the options and imagining how they'll fit into my new space. After some serious contemplation, I make my picks and arrange for delivery.

With that sorted, I head back home, feeling like I've just reclaimed a slice of my independence. Can't wait to set up my new digs and finally have a spot to call my own. Watch out, world, Wang Yibo's taking back control, one piece of furniture at a time.

Within just seven days of tying the knot, I'm already feeling like a glorified servant in my own home. It's like my bedroom, my walk-in closet, heck, even my personal bathroom, has been annexed by my dear husband, Xiao Zhan. And to top it off, there's this eerie silent treatment hanging over us like a dark cloud.

I mean, seriously? I thought marriage was supposed to be about sharing and compromise, not staking claim to every square inch of living space and shutting down communication. It's like I'm living in some twisted version of a sitcom where I'm the punchline.

Every time I try to initiate a conversation, it's met with a blank stare or a dismissive grunt. And don't even get me started on the bedroom situation. It's bad enough that I'm relegated to the couch, but now Zhan's taken over my side of the bed too? Talk about adding insult to injury.I'm starting to wonder if this whole marriage thing was a mistake. Was I too impulsive? Did I jump into this without really knowing what I was getting myself into? But then again, it's not like I can just hit rewind and undo it all.

All I know is that something's gotta give. I refuse to spend the rest of my days tiptoeing around my own home, afraid to speak or assert myself. It's time to take back control and reclaim my space, one awkward conversation at a time. Wish me luck, 'cause I'm gonna need it.

After making the payment, I hopped on my bike and led the truck driver back to my house for the delivery of the items I'd just bought. It was a bit of a hassle maneuvering through the busy streets with the truck in tow, but I managed to navigate us back home without any major mishaps.

As we pulled up to the curb outside my place, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Finally, I was taking action to reclaim my space and put an end to this silent standoff with Zhan. With each piece of furniture that was unloaded from the truck, I felt a renewed sense of empowerment.

Once everything was safely inside, I thanked the truck driver and waved him off before heading inside to tackle the task of setting up my new furniture. It was going to be a bit of a project, but I was ready to roll up my sleeves and get to work.First up was the bed. I rolled it into place in what used to be our bedroom, but now felt more like a makeshift storage closet for Zhan's stuff. It was time to reclaim this space and make it my own again.

Next, I assembled the cupboard and study table, strategically placing them around the room to maximize efficiency and comfort. As I worked, I couldn't shake the feeling of excitement building inside me. This was more than just furniture; it was a statement. A declaration of independence.By the time I was finished, the room looked completely transformed. It was no longer a shrine to Zhan's silent treatment, but a sanctuary of my own making. I stood back and surveyed my handiwork with a sense of pride. This was just the first step in taking back control of my life.