Qingyue's POV:
Two days later - China
The contract in front of me might as well be written in a foreign language for all the attention I'm paying it.
I've read the same paragraph five times now, and the words still won't penetrate the fog in my brain.
Everything feels distant, muted, like I'm experiencing the world through a thick pane of glass.
It's been 216 days since Ruofei left.
I know the exact count because I've been marking each one, sending him a message he never responds to, going through the motions of existing without actually living.
My office is pristine—Charlie makes sure of that, even though I've told him repeatedly not to bother.
The desk is organized, the papers filed, the coffee always fresh.
Everything is perfect and professional and completely hollow.
Just like me.
I set down the contract and lean back in my chair, closing my eyes.
The bond aches in my chest, constant and demanding.
It's been getting worse lately, the pull more insistent, like my body knows something my mind doesn't.
Princess, I think, not for the first time today. Where are you?
A knock at the door interrupts my spiraling thoughts.
"Come in," I call, not bothering to open my eyes.
The door opens, and I hear familiar footsteps cross the room. Light, measured, unmistakably—
"Qingxue."
I open my eyes to find my twin sister standing in front of my desk.
She looks tired, I notice.
There are shadows under her eyes that weren't there the last time I saw her.
"Brother." She inclines her head slightly. "Do you have a moment?"
"For you? Always." I gesture to the chair across from me.
"Though if Uncle sent you to convince me to attend another family dinner, the answer is still no."
"He didn't send me." She sits, arranging her skirt with precise movements. "I came on my own."
Something in her tone makes me sit up straighter, attention sharpening. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong." She pauses, and I see her gathering courage for something. "I have information. About Ruofei."
The whole world stops.
I'm on my feet before I consciously decide to move, hands braced on the desk as I lean toward her.
"What? Where is he? Is he okay? When did you—"
"Qingyue." Her voice is gentle but firm. "Sit down. Please."
I force myself back into my chair, but every muscle is taut, ready to spring into action. "Tell me."
Qingxue takes a breath. "He is safe."
Those three words—so simple, so insufficient—hit me like a physical blow.
He's safe.
Not dead, not hurt, not in danger. Safe.
"Where?" The question comes out hoarse.
"I can't tell you that."
"Qingxue—"
"I can't," she repeats firmly. "I made a promise. But I can tell you that he's safe, he's being well cared for, and he's..." She pauses, choosing her words carefully. "He's doing better than you might think."
My hands are shaking. I press them flat against the desk to hide it. "Is he happy?"
The question surprises her—I can see it in the slight widening of her eyes.
"I don't know if happy is the right word," she says slowly. "But he's not miserable. He has people who love him, who are taking care of him. He's building a life."
Without me, I think, and the pain is sharp enough to steal my breath.
"Does he look healthy?" I ask, needing more, needing anything she can give me.
"Very healthy. A little tired, maybe, but that's to be expected given—" She stops abruptly.
"Given what?"
"Given the stress of the situation," she finishes smoothly. Too smoothly.
She's hiding something.
But I'm too desperate for information to push.
"Is he... does he ever mention me?"
Qingxue's expression softens into something that looks like pity. "Not to me, no. But Qingyue..." She leans forward. "He hasn't moved on. He hasn't forgotten you. Whatever reasons he has for staying away, they're not because he stopped caring."
The words should comfort me. They don't.
"Then why won't he come back?" The question tears out of me, raw and desperate.
"If he still cares, if he's not happy without me, why won't he just come home?"
"I don't know." She reaches across the desk, taking one of my hands in both of hers. "But I think... I think he believes he's protecting you. By staying away."
"Protecting me from what?"
"I don't know that either." She squeezes my hand. "But Ruofei has always been protective of the people he loves. You know that."
I do know that. It's one of the things I've always loved about him—his fierce loyalty, his willingness to sacrifice himself for others.
But I never thought he'd sacrifice us.
"Thank you," I say quietly. "For telling me. I know you didn't have to."
"You're my brother. And you're suffering." She stands, still holding my hand. "I can't tell you where he is, but I can tell you that he's safe. Let that be enough for now."
It's not enough. It will never be enough.
But it's more than I had an hour ago.
After she leaves, I sit in my office for a long time, staring at nothing.
He's safe. He's healthy. He's building a life.
The information should comfort me. Should make the ache less.
It doesn't.
I don't remember making the decision to leave the office.
One moment I'm sitting at my desk, the next I'm in my car, driving through the city toward the outskirts.
Toward the house no one knows about except Qingxue.
The house with the room.
My shrine to the man I love.
The drive takes forty minutes, and by the time I pull into the hidden driveway, the sun is beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
Ruofei's favorite time of day, I think absently. He always said sunset was when the world was most beautiful.
I unlock the door and descend the stairs to the basement, flipping on the lights.
Hundreds of photographs greet me, covering every inch of wall space.
Ruofei at seven, being carried by me after the tiger attack—one of the few pictures I have from that day.
Ruofei at ten, practicing martial arts in his family's courtyard.
Ruofei at fifteen, laughing at something his sister said.
Ruofei at eighteen, when our engagement was announced, looking beautiful and terrified.
And more recent ones.
Ruofei working in his office.
Ruofei training.
Ruofei sleeping.
Ruofei existing in a thousand captured moments that I've collected like precious treasures.
In the center of the room is the table, and on that table is the ring I bought three years ago.
The ring I was planning to use to propose.
I cross to the wall where my favorite photo hangs—Ruofei at seventeen, before everything got complicated.
He's smiling at something off-camera, and the sunlight catches in his white hair like a halo.
"Thank you," I say quietly to the photograph. "For being safe. For being healthy. For still being alive in this world, even if you're not with me."
I press my hand against the photo, feeling the cool glass under my palm.
"Qingxue says you're building a life. I'm happy for you, princess. Really. Even if it's killing me, I'm happy that you're okay."
The words catch in my throat.
"We'll be reunited someday," I continue, voice barely above a whisper. "Sooner or later, fate will bring us back together. I have to believe that. And when it does, I'll explain everything. I'll tell you how much I love you, how sorry I am for not being clearer about it from the start."
I trace the outline of his face on the photograph.
"Until then, I'll wait. Even if it takes the rest of my life, I'll wait for you."
The silence of the room presses in around me, heavy with longing and grief.
Finally, I turn away from the photos and head back upstairs.
I have one more thing to do tonight.
My family's main house is lit up when I arrive, warm light spilling from the windows into the darkening evening.
I haven't been here in weeks. Haven't wanted to face my parents' questions, their concern, their pity.
But after Qingxue's visit, after the shrine room, I need... something.
Absolution, maybe. Or just someone to tell me I'm not losing my mind.
My mum answers the door—though he hates being called that, preferring 'dad' or by his name, I've called him mum since I was a child and the habit stuck.
"Qingyue!" His surprise is evident. "We didn't expect you tonight. Is everything alright?"
"Can we talk? You and Dad?"
"Of course." He steps aside, letting me in.
"Your father is in the study. Go ahead, I'll bring tea."
Dad is indeed in the study, reading with his usual intense focus. He looks up when I enter, expression shifting from concentration to concern.
"Qingyue. What brings you here?"
I sink into the chair across from his desk. "I need to tell you something. About Ruofei."
Both my parents go very still.
Mum enters with the tea tray, setting it down carefully before taking the seat beside me.
"What about Ruofei, sweetheart?"
And so I tell them.
Everything.
The Zhang family's attack.
The drug.
Finding Ruofei in heat, desperate and scared and needing help.
Making the decision to be the one to help him, because I couldn't bear the thought of anyone else touching him.
The bonding.
The marking.
The way I'd whispered my love to him, believing he'd remember, believing the bond would make everything clear.
The seven months of silence since.
By the time I finish, my throat is raw and there are tears on my cheeks that I don't remember shedding.
My parents are silent.
The quiet stretches, heavy and suffocating, and I can't tell what they're thinking.
Are they disappointed? Angry? Do they think I'm a monster?
Finally, Mum speaks.
"Now it makes sense why he left."
I look up sharply.
"What?"
"Why Ruofei left," he repeats gently. "I'm pretty sure he's having mixed feelings after what you did."
"I know I shouldn't have marked him without clearer consent—"
"No, that's not what I mean." Mum leans forward, taking my hand. "Qingyue, do you remember when the engagement was first arranged? Three years ago?"
I nod, confused.
"Ruofei told me something that day. He pulled me aside at the engagement party and asked me to break it off."
My heart stops. "He... what?"
"He asked me to break the engagement. Said he didn't want to go through with it." Mum's expression is sad. "I asked him why, and do you know what he said?"
I shake my head, unable to speak.
"He said, 'I love Qingyue. I've loved him for years. But if I had to choose between my love for him and his safety, I would leave no matter what. Your family has too many enemies, and I refuse to be used as a weapon against him.'"
The words hit me like a sledgehammer.
"I told him that running away wouldn't protect you," Mum continues. "That being engaged actually gave you both more protection, made you a united front. He agreed to continue with the engagement, but he made me promise that if he ever had to leave to keep you safe, I wouldn't stop him."
I can't breathe.
All this time. All these months of thinking he left because I'd hurt him, violated him, taken something without permission.
But what if that wasn't it at all?
What if he left to protect me?
"The night we spent together," I say slowly, pieces clicking into place. "He would have woken up marked. Bonded. Pregnant, probably, though he might not have known it yet."
Dad speaks for the first time. "And in his mind, that made him a target. Made him a weakness that your enemies could exploit."
"So he ran," I breathe. "Not because I hurt him, but because he thought staying would hurt me."
"We can't know for certain," Mum cautions. "But knowing Ruofei? Knowing how protective he is, how he's always put others before himself? It fits."
It does fit.
Gods, it fits perfectly.
I think about the messages I've sent.
The desperate pleas for him to come back.
The promises that I'd fix whatever was wrong.
But I was trying to fix the wrong thing.
He doesn't need me to apologize for marking him—though I should, and I will.
He needs me to prove that he's not a weakness.
That loving him doesn't make me vulnerable.
That we're stronger together than apart.
"I need to find him," I say, standing abruptly. "I need to tell him—"
"No." Dad's voice is firm. "Qingyue, if I'm right about his reasoning, then charging in to 'rescue' him will only confirm his fears. He'll think you're in danger because of him."
"Then what do I do?"
The question comes out desperate.
"Just wait? Hope he comes back on his own?"
"You make yourself visible," Mum says thoughtfully. "You show the world that you're strong, that you're thriving, that no enemy could touch you even if they tried. You make it clear that having an omega—having him—doesn't make you weak."
"And you trust," Dad adds. "Trust that he loves you enough to come back when he sees that his fears are unfounded."
"That could take months. Years."
"Then you wait months or years," Mum says gently. "Because that's what love is, Qingyue. Waiting. Fighting. Choosing each other, every day, even when it's hard."
I sink back into my chair, head in my hands.
"I miss him," I whisper. "Every second of every day, I miss him."
"I know, sweetheart." Mum's hand is warm on my shoulder. "But he's out there, he's safe, and he loves you. Hold onto that."
I nod, even though the ache in my chest hasn't lessened.
But something has shifted. Some fundamental understanding that changes everything.
Ruofei didn't leave because I hurt him.
He left because he loves me.
And that—that I can work with.
That night, I send my usual message.
But this time, it's different.
Qingyue: "Day 216 without you, princess. I talked to my parents today. I think I understand now why you left. And I want you to know—you're not a weakness. You never were. You're my strength, my light, my everything. Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, I'm fighting to make the world safe for us. Both of us. I love you. I'll wait forever if that's what it takes."
I press send and set down my phone.
Then I open my laptop and begin drafting an email to my security team.
If Ruofei thinks staying away protects me, I'll prove him wrong.
I'll eliminate every threat, neutralize every enemy, make myself so untouchable that his fears become groundless.
And when I do, when the world is safe enough for him to come home...
I'll be waiting.
With open arms and an open heart and a love that's only grown stronger in his absence.
Come back to me, princess, I think, staring at the ceiling of my bedroom hours later, unable to sleep. When you're ready, when you feel safe, come back to me.
I'll be here.
Always.