Qingyue's POV:
Same day - Evening
"Stay tonight."
I look up from where I've been helping Mingyu organize his collection of small cars—apparently he has very specific ideas about how they should be arranged—to find Ruofei watching me from the doorway.
"Stay?" I repeat carefully.
"For the night. Here." He shifts slightly, and I recognize the nervous tell from years of knowing him. "The guest rooms are nice, but I thought... maybe you'd want to stay in my room. With me."
My heart stops.
"Ruofei, I don't want to push—"
"You're not pushing. I'm offering." He meets my eyes steadily. "We don't have to do anything. Just... sleep. Together."
Before I fled. Before everything fell apart. Before six years of separation.
"Are you sure?" I ask quietly.
"I'm sure." His expression softens. "I've spent six years sleeping alone, Qingyue. I'd like to not be alone tonight."
How am I supposed to say no to that?
"Okay," I manage. "I'd like that too."
After the twins are tucked in—Liqin requiring three stories and two glasses of water before finally settling, Mingyu falling asleep almost the moment his head hits the pillow—Ruofei leads me to his room.
It's the same room from his childhood, I realize.
Same furniture, same view of the gardens. But it's been updated—the bed is larger, the décor more mature.
"I don't have spare pajamas that will fit you," Ruofei says, pulling out his own sleepwear. "But there might be something of Wenlan's in the guest room if you—"
"I'll be fine." I'm already pulling off my sweater. "I usually just sleep in my underwear anyway."
I catch Ruofei's eyes widening slightly before he looks away, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.
Right. We haven't been intimate in six years. This is probably weird for him.
"I can wear my shirt," I offer quickly. "If that's more comfortable."
"No, it's fine." He's focusing very intently on changing into his own pajamas—soft pants and a loose shirt. "I'm being ridiculous. It's not like I haven't seen you before."
"Six years ago," I point out gently. "A lot has changed since then."
"You got more muscular." The observation is matter-of-fact, but there's something in his tone that makes me look at him sharply.
He's studying me—not overtly, but I can feel his gaze tracking the changes in my body.
The broader shoulders, the more defined muscle from years of working out to keep my mind from spiraling.
"You got thinner," I say quietly. "Too thin."
"The bond separation." He doesn't sound defensive, just tired. "It's hard to maintain weight when your body is constantly in pain."
The reminder is a knife to my chest.
We climb into bed from opposite sides, and for a moment we just lie there, staring at the ceiling.
"Thank you," I say into the darkness. "For today. For giving me a chance to meet them. For... everything."
"You don't need to thank me." I hear rustling as he shifts to face me. "They're your children too. You had a right to know about them."
"Still." I turn my head to look at him, just barely visible in the dim light from the window. "Thank you."
He smiles, soft and gentle, and closes his eyes.
Within minutes, his breathing evens out into sleep.
I lie there, watching him, still unable to fully believe this is real.
He's here. In bed beside me. After six years of separation, of daily unanswered messages, of desperate hope that was slowly dying—he's here.
We talked. He forgave me. He introduced me to our children.
Our children.
I have twins. A son and daughter who are brilliant and beautiful and somehow, miraculously, don't hate me for missing the first six years of their lives.
Please let this be real, I pray to whatever gods might be listening.
Please don't let this be another dream I wake up from alone.
The exhaustion of the day finally catches up to me, and I drift off still watching Ruofei sleep, committing every detail to memory just in case.
I wake to Ruofei shaking my shoulder.
"Qingyue." His voice is urgent. "Wake up."
I'm instantly alert, years of training kicking in.
"What's wrong? Are we in danger?"
"No, not danger." But he's already getting out of bed. "Something's wrong."
He doesn't elaborate, just heads for the door. I scramble after him, pulling on my pants as I follow him down the hallway.
He stops outside the twins' room, pressing his ear to the door.
Then, without knocking, he pushes it open.
The room is mostly dark, but I can see Liqin sitting up in bed, her small shoulders shaking.
Ruofei is across the room in seconds, gathering her into his arms. "Baby, what's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"
"I was scared," Liqin hiccups, tears streaming down her face. "I woke up and I didn't hear you and I thought—I thought something happened."
"Didn't hear me?" Ruofei's voice is confused. "Sweetheart, I was sleeping. You wouldn't have heard anything."
"But I always hear you!" Liqin's crying harder now. "Every night in Korea, I'd hear you making the bad sounds and I'd know you were okay even if you were hurting. But tonight was quiet and I thought—I thought maybe you were gone or—"
She dissolves into sobs, and I see Ruofei's entire body go rigid.
"Shh, baby, I'm right here." He rocks her gently. "I'm okay. I promise I'm okay."
"But you weren't screaming," Liqin insists. "You always scream."
Over her head, Ruofei meets my eyes, and I see the moment he realizes I heard every single word.
"Everything's okay now," he tells Liqin softly. "I'm not in pain anymore, so there's no screaming. That's a good thing, remember?"
"But how will I know you're okay?" Her logic is heartbreakingly childlike.
"Because I'll come kiss you goodnight every night," Ruofei promises. "And if you ever get scared, you can come find me. I'll always be here."
This seems to satisfy her. She sniffles, wiping her eyes with her sleep shirt. "Okay, Mommy."
"Back to sleep now, sweetheart." He tucks her in carefully, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I love you."
"Love you too." She's already drifting off again, the crisis resolved as quickly as it began.
Mingyu hasn't stirred through any of this, sleeping peacefully with Snowball clutched to his chest.
Ruofei stands, and I follow him back out into the hallway.
He doesn't speak until we're back in his room with the door closed.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I didn't want you to find out like that."
"Find out what?" But I already know. "Ruofei, what was she talking about? Screaming every night?"
He sits on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped.
"The bond. The separation. It was... painful. Especially at night, when I was trying to sleep and my body kept demanding an alpha who wasn't there."
"How painful?" My voice comes out harsh.
"Very." He doesn't look at me. "I tried to keep quiet at first, but after a few months I couldn't anymore. The twins got used to it—learned that the sounds meant I was there, even if I was hurting."
I feel sick.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I move to sit beside him. "In your message, when you finally contacted me—why didn't you say how bad it was?"
"Because I thought it would make things worse." He finally meets my eyes. "Qingyue, the bond helped the pregnancy. Made it possible for the twins to survive even without you present. But it also... it made everything harder. The symptoms were more severe because I was separated from you. And during the birth—"
His voice cracks.
"During the birth, it was excruciating. Even with the C-section, even with all the medication they gave me, the bond was screaming for you to be there. My body thought I was in danger because my alpha wasn't with me."
"Jesus, Ruofei."
"I considered coming back sooner," he continues. "So many times. Just to make the pain stop. But the twins were too young, and I couldn't risk—"
"Why didn't you tell me?" I grab his hands, maybe too tight. "I could have helped. I could have come to you, we could have figured something out—"
"And put you in danger? Put the twins in danger?" He shakes his head. "I thought keeping you separate kept you safe."
"I was never—" The words come out too loud, and I stop, taking a breath.
But Ruofei has already flinched.
"I'm sorry," I say immediately. "I didn't mean to shout. But Ruofei—"
I take his hands more gently this time. "You were never my weakness."
"Your parents thought—"
"My parents told me what you said. How you thought being bonded to me made you a target my enemies could use." I meet his eyes fiercely. "But that was never true. You were never my weakness, Ruofei. Even if you were—even if loving you made me vulnerable—I would do everything in my power to eliminate every single threat before letting anyone touch you."
"Qingyue—"
"There is nothing more important than protecting my family," I say firmly. "Nothing. Not business, not alliances, not my own safety. You and the twins are everything. Do you understand that?"
He's staring at me with wide eyes, and I realize I'm still gripping his hands.
I force myself to gentle my hold. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so intense."
"Are you serious?" His voice is small. "Or are you just flirting with me?"
The question is so unexpected that I laugh—a startled, genuine sound.
"I'm death serious," I assure him. "Though if it counts as flirting too, I'm not opposed to that."
He smiles, shaking his head. "You're ridiculous."
"I'm in love with you," I correct. "There's a difference."
The smile doesn't fade, but his eyes grow softer. "Come on. Let's go back to bed."
We settle back under the covers, and I expect us to return to our previous positions—separate, careful, maintaining space.
Instead, Ruofei shifts closer.
"You can hold me," he says quietly. "If you want. So you can make sure I'm okay during the night."
I don't need to be told twice.
I pull him against my chest, one arm wrapped around his waist, feeling his body align with mine like we were made to fit together.
"Is this okay?" I ask, even though he initiated it.
"It's perfect." He relaxes back into me, and I feel the bond purr with satisfaction. "Qingyue?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you. For coming back. For giving us a chance to be a family."
"Thank you," I breathe against his hair. "For keeping them safe. For being strong enough to survive six years of separation. For giving me another chance even though I didn't deserve it."
"You deserve it," he says firmly. "You always did."
I hold him closer, feeling his breathing slow and even out.
This is real. He's real. The twins are real.
My family is real.
And I'm never letting them go again.
I press a soft kiss to the top of his head—just a gentle brush of lips against his hair—and close my eyes.
For the first time in six years, I fall asleep without the aching loneliness that's been my constant companion.
I fall asleep holding the man I love.
And I don't dream, because reality is finally better than anything I could have imagined.