Qingyue's POV:
Same day - Evening
The drive to the secret house is automatic, muscle memory guiding me through Shanghai's streets while my mind replays the airport encounter on loop.
How are you doing?
Why do you care?
It's natural to care about the person I love.
The bond is making you mistake it for feelings.
Each exchange is a knife wound, but I can't stop picking at them.
He looked... fragile.
Thinner than I remember, his face more drawn.
His hair was longer, falling past his shoulders in a way that made him look simultaneously more beautiful and more breakable.
And his eyes. Gods, his eyes.
For just a moment—one brief, shining moment—I saw joy there.
Recognition.
Longing.
Then the walls came up, and he was gone.
But he's here. In China.
After six years of silence, he came back.
That has to mean something.
I pull into the hidden driveway and sit in the car for a long moment, hands gripping the steering wheel.
He doesn't want to talk to me. Made that abundantly clear. But he came back. He's here, in the same city, breathing the same air.
It's more than I had yesterday.
It's everything.
I finally get out of the car and unlock the house, descending to the shrine room one last time.
The photos look back at me—Ruofei at seventeen, at twenty, at twenty-one. Frozen moments of a man who's now twenty-seven and standing somewhere in this city, probably regretting that he saw me at all.
"He's back," I tell the photographs. "He's really back."
I pick up the ring box, opening it to look at the platinum band that's been waiting for six years.
"Not yet," I murmur. "He's not ready. I'm not ready. But someday. Someday I'll ask, and maybe—if I'm very lucky—he'll say yes."
I set the box down carefully and take one last look around.
Tomorrow, I'll start dismantling this room completely.
Pack away the photos, donate the furniture, close this chapter.
Because Ruofei is real now. Present. Not a memory to be preserved but a person to reconnect with.
If he'll let me.
The family mansion is lit up when I arrive, warm light spilling from the windows into the darkening evening.
I find my parents in the study, as I knew I would.
They look up when I enter, and my mum's expression immediately shifts to concern.
"How did it go?"
"He doesn't want to talk to me." The words hurt to say. "I saw him at the airport, tried to ask how he was doing, and he... he said the bond is making me mistake biology for feelings."
My father winces. "Ouch."
"But he's here," I continue, needing them to understand. "He came back. After six years, he came back. That has to mean something, right?"
"It means he's ready to face whatever sent him away," my mum says gently. "Not necessarily that he's ready to forgive you."
"I know." I sink into a chair. "But I'll do anything. Anything to earn his forgiveness. If it takes days or weeks or months or years—I don't care. I'll wait. I'll prove that I've changed, that I'm worthy of a second chance."
"Qingyue..." My father's voice is careful. "What if he doesn't want to give you that chance? What if coming back isn't about reconciliation?"
"Then I'll accept that." The words taste like ash. "If he tells me to leave him alone, I will. If he wants nothing to do with me, I'll respect that. But until he explicitly says so, I'm going to keep trying. Keep showing up. Keep proving that I love him."
My parents exchange a look—one of those wordless conversations that come from decades of marriage.
"We support you," my mum says finally. "Whatever you decide, whatever happens, we're here."
"Thank you."
I'm about to leave when I notice Qingxue in the doorway, clearly preparing to slip away unnoticed.
"Qingxue." I stand quickly. "Wait."
She pauses, looking wary. "Qingyue."
"I wanted to thank you." I cross to her, ignoring her surprised expression. "For the past six years. For telling me he was safe. For giving me hope when I had nothing else."
Her expression softens slightly. "I didn't do it for you."
"I know. You did it for him, because you're his friend and you care about him." I take a breath. "And I know you're angry with me. You have every right to be. What I did—marking him without clear consent, not being there when he woke up, not explaining properly—it was wrong. I know that."
"Do you?" The question is sharp. "Because Ruofei spent six years convinced you violated him. Six years thinking the worst of you because he couldn't remember clearly."
The words are a punch to the gut, but I force myself to hear them.
"I know," I say quietly. "And I'll spend the rest of my life proving to him that even though I made terrible choices, I did it because I love him. Not to control him, not to trap him. Because I was an idiot who thought the bond would make everything clear."
Qingxue studies me for a long moment. "He's different now. You need to understand that. He's not the same person who left."
"I know."
"And he has things he's protecting. Things that are more important to him than his own happiness."
Something in her tone
makes me pause. "What things?"
But she's already shaking her head. "Not my place to say. You'll find out when he's ready to tell you."
She starts to leave, then pauses at the door.
"For what it's worth," she says without turning around, "I think he still loves you. But love isn't always enough. You hurt him, Qingyue. Deeply. It's going to take more than apologies and changed behavior to heal that."
"I know," I say again. "But I have to try."
She nods and leaves.
I stand there for a moment, processing her words.
He has things he's protecting.
What does that mean?
What could be so important that he'd—
The information from my intelligence officer surfaces in my mind.
Ruofei was pregnant when he left.
No. I already dismissed that as impossible.
Didn't I?
But what if...
"No," I say aloud, shaking my head. "Don't go down that road. Focus on what you know, not what you hope."
What I know: Ruofei is back. He doesn't want to talk to me yet. But he came back.
That's enough. For now, that's enough.
I should go home. Should give Ruofei space, let him settle in, wait for him to reach out.
But I find myself driving to his mansion instead.
The Huang family estate is dark except for a few security lights. Ruofei isn't here—probably staying with his parents on his first night back.
But I have keys from years ago, from when we were engaged and I'd visit him here.
I shouldn't use them. Should respect his privacy.
But I need... something.
Some connection to him that's more than a brief airport encounter.
The house is exactly as I remember. Same furniture, same artwork on the walls, same faint scent of the tea Ruofei always preferred.
I make my way upstairs, muscle memory guiding me to his bedroom.
Our bedroom, technically. The bed we shared before everything fell apart.
It's made with fresh linens—someone prepared for his return.
I sit on the edge, running my hand over the silk coverlet.
Six years ago, I held him in this bed. Whispered my love against his skin. Made promises I didn't know I wouldn't be able to keep.
I'll take care of you.
I'll give you everything you've ever wanted.
You're mine.
My omega.
My love.
My everything.
Did he remember any of it? Or was it all lost to the drug-induced fog?
I lie back, staring at the ceiling, and let myself imagine it.
Tomorrow, he'll come here. We'll talk—really talk. I'll explain everything, apologize properly, tell him about every single thing I've done in the past six years to make myself worthy of him.
And maybe—if I'm very lucky—he'll forgive me.
Maybe he'll see how much I've changed. How I eliminated every threat, strengthened every alliance, made the world as safe as I possibly could for him.
Maybe he'll let me prove that I can be the partner he deserves.
The bond hums in my chest, content for the first time in years.
He's close. Somewhere in this city, Ruofei is sleeping, and the distance between us is measured in miles instead of countries.
It's not enough. Won't ever be enough until he's in my arms again.
But it's something.
I pull out my phone and send my daily message, even though I saw him today.
Qingyue: Day 2,191. I saw you today. You're more beautiful than I remembered, even exhausted and angry. Thank you for coming back. I know you're not ready to talk, and I'll wait as long as you need. But please know that I love you. I've always loved you. I'll wait forever if that's what it takes. Sleep well, princess.
I press send and set the phone aside.
Then I close my eyes, breathing in the faint scent of Ruofei that still lingers in this room, and let myself hope.
Hope that tomorrow will be better.
That he'll soften, even slightly. That I'll get another chance to prove myself.
Hope that somewhere in his heart, he still loves me too.
Hope that we can find our way back to each other.
The exhaustion of the day catches up to me, and sleep pulls me under.
I dream of Ruofei smiling.
Not the polite, distant smile of our formal events, but the real one—the one I've only seen in unguarded moments.
The one that lights up his entire face and makes him look young and carefree and happy.
In the dream, he's reaching for me.
And this time, I don't freeze. I reach back.
Our hands meet, fingers interlacing, and everything else fades away until it's just us.
Tomorrow, I think as sleep claims me completely. Tomorrow I'll start proving that I deserve this. Deserve him.
Tomorrow, everything changes.