Chapter 63: I Will Always Provide for You
The warehouse smelled like cardboard, machine oil and newly cleaned concrete.
Hanchuan entered through the loading area with Zhiyi beside him while another truck reversed toward the farthest dock. Its warning signal echoed through the enormous building, repeating at regular intervals until the vehicle stopped against the platform.
Workers were already unloading the first deliveries.
Pallets of rice and flour occupied one section of the floor. Sealed cases of cooking oil, dried noodles and canned food had been stacked beside them, each group separated according to the supplier and project account used for the purchase.
Nothing had been placed on the storage racks yet.
Zhiyi stopped inside the yellow safety line and stared.
The supplies represented less than one percent of what they had ordered. They belonged to only one assigned warehouse, and most would eventually be divided again before being moved to a permanent shelter.
Still, the first rows extended farther than the dining table ever had.
"They delivered the quantities on the manifests?" she asked.
"We’re here to verify that," Hanchuan replied.
Zhiyi opened her notebook.
Hanchuan had expected that response. He spoke to the warehouse supervisor, confirmed that no additional vehicles would enter the nearest loading bay and asked the workers to begin unloading at the opposite end of the building.
Privacy inside a warehouse required more distance than walls, but the building provided plenty of it.
Zhiyi began with the rice.
She checked the number of cases against the manifest, examined the lot numbers and calculated the difference between the total weight ordered and the weight currently present. The missing amount remained aboard the truck waiting at the dock, which prevented her from identifying a discrepancy until the unloading was complete.
She moved to the flour instead.
Hanchuan followed without interrupting.
The bruises on her arms remained visible beneath her sleeves whenever she reached for a label. They would fade. Qinghe had confirmed the damage was temporary, and the two men responsible would never work in private security again.
But temporary injuries didn’t change what Hanchuan had seen at the Qiao family’s table.
Zhiyi had tried to prevent her family from learning about her connection to him and his friends because she understood precisely what would happen once they knew.
Her father had proven her correct within minutes. He hadn’t cared that Zhiyi left his home until he discovered where she went.
Then he attempted to claim her.
Hanchuan had no intention of allowing anyone to question where she belonged again, including Zhiyi herself.
She continued into the nearest aisle, where workers had begun placing household supplies onto the lower racks. Cases of soap, toothpaste, detergent and cleaning products formed neat blocks beneath handwritten location labels.
Zhiyi stopped beside the first section. "This arrangement is incorrect," she said.
The supervisor had remained far enough away to provide privacy, but the word incorrect apparently traveled better than an ordinary voice. He began walking toward them.
Hanchuan raised one hand.
The man stopped.
"What’s wrong with it?" Hanchuan asked.
"The detergent and soap came from the same supplier, but they belong to different inventory groups. If they remain together, someone may calculate the available hygiene supplies from the total pallet count instead of the individual cases."
"Where should they go?"
Zhiyi pointed toward an empty section two aisles away. "Soap remains here. Cleaning products go there. Personal hygiene, sanitation and maintenance chemicals require separate counts."
Hanchuan sent the change to the warehouse supervisor, who immediately redirected two workers.
Zhiyi watched until the first cases were moved.
The correction appeared minor. It would never matter if all records remained accurate and every person responsible for inventory completed their work properly.
Hanchuan had already seen what happened when trained people chose not to do what they were supposed to do.
"Anything else?" he asked.
"The shelves need permanent labels before the next delivery."
"They’ll have them tomorrow."
"The backup power hasn’t been tested."
"Zeyu is sending someone tonight."
"The food-storage temperature—"
"Will be monitored before we leave."
Zhiyi turned toward him.
He had answered every problem without telling her it was unlikely to happen, too expensive to prevent or something they could address later. She appeared to notice the pattern only after running out of immediate concerns.
"This is a small portion," she said.
"I know."
"We need significantly more."
"I know."
"The warehouses may not hold everything once the specialized equipment arrives."
"Then I’ll buy more warehouses."
Her attention remained on his face.
Hanchuan had spent seven years learning which expressions other people failed to see. Zhiyi rarely displayed emotion in a way strangers recognized, but that didn’t mean she lacked it.
Her uncertainty appeared in delayed answers, repeated calculations and the questions she didn’t ask because she couldn’t identify the form they should take.
She was looking for the limit.
The quantity that would finally make him tell her she required too much.
Hanchuan stepped closer. "There will always be more," he whispered gently to her. "I will always give you everything you need."
Zhiyi looked toward the rows of supplies. "The statement is too broad."
"Then I’ll make it specific."
He guided her farther into the aisle without touching her bruised arms. The warehouse lights stretched above them in long white lines, illuminating shelves that would be filled before the week ended.
There were no flowers.
No candles.
No carefully arranged view selected because someone had decided it would look romantic in photographs.
There was food she would never have to ration, water she would never have to surrender to someone considered more important and enough supplies to ensure that survival never depended upon whether the rest of the world believed her calculations.
Hanchuan had never found a more appropriate place to promise her forever.
He stopped between two empty sections of shelving.
Zhiyi stopped with him. "What are we verifying here?"
"Nothing."
She looked from one empty rack to the other, searching for the purpose behind bringing her into the aisle.
Hanchuan reached into his pocket and removed the small black box that had been delivered to his office that afternoon.
Zhiyi’s attention fixed on it.
Recognition didn’t arrive immediately. She examined the size, shape and material before her eyes shifted toward his face. Her lips parted, but no question followed.
Hanchuan lowered himself onto one knee.
Her entire body became still.
He opened the box.
The ring was platinum, with a clear diamond set at its center.
Hanchuan had rejected every elaborate arrangement the jeweler offered.
Zhiyi didn’t need a ring designed to prove how much he could afford. She needed one she could wear without catching it against every page, keyboard and piece of equipment she touched.
Her gaze moved from the ring to his position on the concrete floor.
"Hanchuan," she asked, cocking her head to the side like she didn’t understand what was going on.
"I will always provide for you," he said instead of answering her.
Zhiyi didn’t move.
"You will have food when you’re hungry, shelter when the world becomes dangerous and everything I’m capable of putting between you and whatever tries to hurt you," he continued, still on one knee.
The warehouse around them contained only the beginning of that promise.
"My home is yours. My future is yours. There will never be a point when you stop being useful and discover that I expected you to leave."
Something changed in her face like Hanchuan had found the fear she never voiced.
"You aren’t attached to my friends, and you aren’t an additional person I agreed to include in their plans. You belong with me because I chose you. I found you once at the end of the world, and when I was given another life, you were the first person I went looking for."
Although technically, Zhiyi had reached him first.
That didn’t change where every thought had been trying to take him from the moment he opened his eyes.
"You’re marrying me in ten days."
Zhiyi stared at him. "That wasn’t a question," she responded after a moment.
"No," he agreed with a smile on his face.
"A proposal generally contains a question."
"I’m not uncertain enough to ask one."
Her attention dropped to the ring again. "You haven’t established whether I want to marry you."
"If you don’t want me, tell me."
He waited for a moment, raising an eyebrow.
Zhiyi’s mind moved behind her eyes, testing the statement for conditions he hadn’t provided. Hanchuan gave her nothing else to interpret. He didn’t explain that marriage was practical, suggest that it would protect her legally or mention the approaching disaster as though it had forced his decision.
He wanted her.
The rest could be handled afterward.
"I don’t want to refuse," she said.
Hanchuan smiled. "Good."
"But ten days is insufficient for an ordinary wedding."
"I’m not planning an ordinary wedding."
That created another set of questions, but Hanchuan didn’t allow them to pull her away from the answer she had already given.
He removed the ring from the box and held out his hand.
Zhiyi placed her left hand in his.
The bruising didn’t reach her fingers. Hanchuan slid the ring into place without touching the marks around her forearm, then pressed his lips against her knuckles.
Zhiyi looked down at him.
"I want to marry you," she said, giving him the precise answer he hadn’t asked her to produce.
Hanchuan rose carefully and drew her against his chest. He kept one arm around her waist and placed his other hand against the back of her head, avoiding every injury while surrounding her completely.
When he kissed her, Zhiyi’s fingers closed around the front of his shirt.
The first deliveries continued being unloaded at the far end of the warehouse. More trucks would arrive throughout the night, followed by enough supplies to fill the empty racks around them.
In ten days, Zhiyi would become his wife.
Not one day more.