HIS Uncle MY LOVE [Yizhan]

CHAPTER 1

Xiao Zhan: "For the last time, Wang Yibo—fuck off! How many times do I have to reject you before it sinks in? You're lucky that you're my friend's son, or I would've dealt with you a long time ago."

Wang Yibo: "Please, Uncle... I love you. I'm not playing games. I mean it."

Song Jiyang: (Softly, resting a hand on Xiao Zhan’s arm) "Zhan, love... don't be so cold. He's just a kid. Let him figure out his heart."

Wang Yibo hurls the book across the room, eyes blazing.

"What the actual fuck is this book?! First of all, the male lead—Xiao Zhan—is a certified asshole. Second, Song Jiyang? Total sweetheart, unreservedly stuck in this mess. And third—why the hell does the dumbass side character have my name? He's a walking embarrassment!"

Wang Yibo’s friend raises a brow, peeking over his shoulder.

"You're reading a BL novel again?"

Wang Yibo replied irritatingly, "Fuck off! I'm pissed."

His friend, Ji Li, chuckled lightly and said, "You're literally the CEO of Wang & Co."

Hearing this, Wang Yibo asked with a blank face, "And CEOs can't enjoy a little gay drama now?"

seeing the blank face of his friend, Ji Li understood that this time he was really pissed. So to avoid another whining, he sighed and simply asked, "So, why are you mad?"

Slamming the book shut, Wang Yibo stood from his place and directly faced his friend.

"Because this book is stupid. Same recycled trash. Cold, emotionally constipated main lead. Cinnamon roll love interest. Slow burn. Blah, blah, blah. They fell in love. Yawn."

"So, what's the problem?"

"It has a side character named Wang freakin' Yibo. Same name as me. And he's a dumbass, 20-years-old who's head over heels for the 35-years-old main lead, who just so happens to be his dad's best friend!"

After a moment of silence, Ji Li bursts out laughing, "Dude, the author probably got inspiration from you."

Seeing the nonchalant attitude of his friend toward him, Wang Yibo shouted, "Shut up! I became CEO at 25 and turned it into a billion-dollar company by 29. I'm nothing like that dumbass disastrous version of mine."

After a long argument and chit-chatting with his friend and a long-ass day of pretending to work while sneakily devouring that BL novel under the desk, Wang Yibo finally made it home.

Yeah, he's the CEO—but priorities, babe.

He slammed the door shut, threw off his blazer and immediately pulled out his phone.

Staring at the phone, he grumbled, "Stupid book. Stupid Wang Yibo. Who even names a dumbass side character after me?"

He collapsed on the couch, opened the author's social media account and started the rage-typing like a man on a mission.

Comment 1: Why is the side character named Wang Yibo. Like get a grip, author. He's a 20-year-old disaster with no braincells. Do better.

Comment 2: Main lead is 35 and dating his bestie's kid ? Jail. Literally jail.

Comment 3: As someone who's ACTUALLY named Wang Yibo, I'm offended. I would never simp for a cold, emotionally unavailable man like Xiao Zhan. I have standards, thanks.

He hit post, then posted three more just to make a point. Was he being dramatic? Maybe. But was it deserved? Hell, yes!

And if the author saw his comments and cried a little? Good.

That's what they get for dragging his name through fictional filth.

After posting his hate comments like a true internet warrior behind his screen, Yibo tossed his phone aside with a smug little smirk and crashed into bed.

He mumbled sleepily, "Let the author cry about it. I said what I said."

The next day, he worked like nothing happened—charming smiles, sleek suit, meetings wrapped around his finger like usual.

But by evening?

Certified playboy mode: activated.

Wang Yibo strolled into the hottest club in the city, dripped in confidence and cologne, scanning the crowd like a lion hunting his next distraction.

One drink turned to three. A flirty glance turned into dancing. And eventually, he ended up on the balcony, lips tangled with some hot stranger whose name he didn't bother to ask.

But suddenly, the stranger pulled back.

No warning.

Just fire in his eyes.

His eyes darkened as he said, "That's for all the bullshit you posted about my story, Wang Yibo."

Before Yibo could even register the words, he was pushed.

Glass shattered.

The night air swallowed his screem.

Yibo plummeted off the third-floor balcony.

Time slowed.

He hit the ground with a sickening crack—blood pooling under him as the club's music kept thumping, uncaring, above.

His last thought before everything faded?

"This is some real fucked up plot twist."