The air outside her mother's run-down house smelled of cheap liquor and damp smoke. Broken glass scattered on the pavement, shining faintly under the streetlight.
Lin Qing Yun stood still, the faint cut on her cheek oozing a thin line of blood. She hadn't even raised her hand to wipe it away. Her mother's curses still rang inside her ears like a chant, a poison that no words could wash away.
Xu Wei Ran couldn't endure another second. He reached forward, pulling her firmly into his arms.
"Qing Yun…" His voice trembled in a way he hated, but he didn't care.
Her body, so slender and rigid, finally loosened just enough to lean against him. For a moment, she trembled—tiny quivers she never showed to anyone else. Wei Ran tightened his hold, one palm on the back of her head, the other circling her waist as if he could shield her from everything, even her past.
"Don't carry it alone," he whispered. No promises, no demands—just those five words.
She didn't answer. But she didn't push him away either.
The driver opened the car door. Wei Ran guided her gently inside, sliding into the backseat beside her. As the car began to move, Qing Yun let her head fall lightly against his chest. The scent of rain and wine clung faintly to her hair. Wei Ran's hand moved slowly, carefully, brushing through her hair as if smoothing away the pain her mother had carved into her.
Through the window, Lingjiang's city lights blurred like smeared stars. Qing Yun closed her eyes—not in peace, not in sleep, but in a kind of surrender to silence.
Wei Ran looked down at her profile, calm and beautiful even when exhausted. The Lin Qing Yun he knew was back—the calm, elegant, tactical, quiet girl who carried storms inside her without letting them show. Relief stirred in him, yet also worry. Because now, she looked not just calm, but also… lost.
---
Gu Ze Yan's POV
The late-night flight from Liangcheng touched down in Lingjiang with a shudder. Gu Ze Yan was one of the first off the plane. He didn't even glance at the neon-bright advertisements or the bustle of arrivals. His entire being leaned forward, strung tight like a bow.
Sunny.
She was here. He could feel it.
But Lingjiang was a sprawling city, and without a trace, finding her was like chasing a shadow in fog.
His phone buzzed. Chen Rui's voice came quick and careful.
"Boss, there's talk online. Xu Wei Ran was spotted in Lingjiang. Someone photographed him at a luxury hotel—he wasn't alone. A woman was with him."
The world stilled around Ze Yan. His grip on the phone turned white.
Chen Rui hesitated before adding: "The girl's face was blurred in the pictures, but… don't you think it's too much of a coincidence? Qing Yun is here. Wei Ran is here. Maybe…"
Ze Yan closed his eyes. His chest hurt, as if someone had driven a fist straight through bone.
Maybe.
He didn't want to think it. He didn't want to see it. But hope and dread warred inside him until they were the same thing.
"Where?" His voice came low, hoarse.
Chen Rui gave him the name of the hotel.
Ze Yan hung up without another word, hailed a taxi, and gave the driver the address. His fingers dug into his knees during the ride.
---
The Lobby Wait
The hotel was luxury wrapped in gold—crystal chandeliers, polished marble floors, bellboys moving like clockwork. The kind of place where every surface reflected perfection.
Ze Yan strode to the reception desk, asked directly for Xu Wei Ran's room number. The receptionist bowed politely, lips stiff with apology. "I'm sorry, sir. We cannot disclose our guests' information."
For a moment, Ze Yan considered demanding, forcing, even bribing. But he swallowed it. He couldn't afford mistakes.
So he sat down in the lobby café, ordered a coffee that went cold without a sip, and waited.
Hours stretched. Guests came and went. The tick of his watch grew louder.
Each time the glass doors opened, he lifted his head—only to lower it again when it wasn't them. His shoulders grew heavy, but he couldn't move. He was a man who had once conquered investors, battled boardrooms, bent algorithms to his will. Yet here, waiting like a fool in a hotel lobby, he felt powerless.
His thoughts looped endlessly:
If she's here… if she's with him… why?
What did I do wrong?
---
The Encounter
The lobby's golden light caught on the glass doors as they slid open.
This time, it was them.
Xu Wei Ran stepped inside first, tall, poised, unmistakable even in casual clothes. Beside him—her.
Lin Qing Yun.
Her hand rested in Wei Ran's, their fingers lightly linked. She looked pale, exhausted, but composed, her gaze lowered as though conserving what little strength she had left. Wei Ran's entire posture radiated protectiveness, his hand steady, his body angled toward her.
Ze Yan's breath stopped.
For a heartbeat, the world blurred. The clink of glasses, the hum of conversations, the footsteps on marble—all vanished. There was only that sight: the woman he loved, walking beside another man.
He surged to his feet. The chair scraped harshly against the floor, turning heads.
"Qing Yun—!"
His voice tore through the lobby, rough and raw, echoing against crystal and marble like a strike of lightning.
Qing Yun froze mid-step. Her shoulders tensed, her head lifted slowly, as if afraid of what she'd see.
Wei Ran stiffened, his grip on her hand tightening instinctively. His gaze sharpened, cold, as he turned toward the voice.
And Gu Ze Yan stood there—eyes burning, chest heaving, his entire being trembling with fury and longing, as if the universe had narrowed to this one unbearable moment.
The three of them locked eyes in the heavy silence of the hotel lobby.
Time stopped.