Lin Rui had convinced himself that distance would work. That once Ruhan was gone, once the second name was erased, fate would leave him alone. The palace was a labyrinth of winding paths and endless corridors. In a place this vast, avoiding her should have been easy.
He was wrong. Even now, after everything he had done to "edit" the story, their paths still crossed as if pulled by an invisible thread of sickening fate.
He saw her from afar first.
Lian Zhi stood beneath the shadow of the outer corridor. Her posture was unsteady, her steps careless in a way that immediately set him on edge. Her hair was loosely tied, strands clinging to her cheeks. There was a jar in her hand, tilted too freely, the scent of wine faint but unmistakable even from a distance.
She was drunk.
His chest tightened with a familiar, unwanted ache. He should have turned away.
Instead, he stayed where he was, half-hidden behind a stone column. He watched as she stumbled forward and stopped abruptly, as if the world had tilted beneath her feet. Her shoulders began to shake. She raised a trembling hand to her face, wiping the tears she no longer had the strength to hide.
She was crying... for Ruhan... again.
The realization hit him harder than he expected. He had told himself grief would fade quickly, people would adapt. That time will eventually wash the pain away. But there she was, even days later, still drowning in a grief that time refused to dilute.
Lin Rui felt something torn inside him.
He had done this for her safety. At least that was what he kept telling himself.
She lifted her head suddenly, and Lin Rui found her gaze locked onto him.
For a split second, he thought she hadn't recognized him. That the wine had blurred her vision, and that she was looking past him, not at him. But then her expression changed, anger flashing through her eyes, even under the dimmed light.
She walked straight toward him, almost in hurried, heavy steps. Like she was about to do something frightening.
Instinct flared at once. Lin Rui glanced around sharply, looking for a way out. The corridor was deserted, and the guards were posted farther down the wing. For once, there were no eyes on them.
He stiffened, his mind racing through his options.
I should step back, he thought. I could summon the guards.
If she approaches me, I will remind her of her place in front of the Khan. I could end this right now.
He did none of those things.
She stopped directly in front of him, and before he could even react, she struck his chest with both hands.
The impact was not strong. She was small and drunk afterall. But the audacity of it was shocking nonetheless.
"How dare you!" she hissed, her voice hoarse from crying.
Lin Rui stared down at her, stunned. How could she dare hit the Great Khan?
"You said Ruhan was your man," she continued, her voice trembling with fury and grief. She hit his chest again, harder this time. "You said he was under your protection!"
Her eyes were bloodshot and glassy, burning with accusation. "And yet you failed to protect him."
Each word hit him exactly at the right place. Lin Rui opened his mouth to reclaim his authority, but she didn't let him speak.
"Kabil killed him," she said bitterly. "Everyone knows it. And you, the Great Khan, did nothing!"
Her fists clenched in his robes now. "Why didn't you stop him? Why didn't you avenge him? Why didn't you punish Kabil?"
Her voice broke completely then.
"He died for you," she whispered, her voice trembling now. "And you let him die like he was nothing."
Lin Rui felt the Khan's legendary composure slip. This wasn't how the scene was supposed to play out. She wasn't meant to confront him. She wasn't meant to look at him with the grief that turned into rage.
"He didn't even get a proper burial," she said, her breath hitching. "You didn't even give him that."
The words hollowed him out. He had told himself the tomb was enough. The name engraved in stone was a sufficient closure. But standing there, with her fists still clutching his chest, he knew how wrong that had been.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, words escaped him before his brain could stop them.
Lian Zhi froze.
Her grip loosened slightly, confusion flickering across her face. "Sorry?" she repeated. "That's all you have to say?"
Lin Rui swallowed hard. He should have corrected his tone. He should have used the Khan's cold, echoing voice. Instead, he lifted a hand hesitantly and rested it against her shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he whispered again, the mask no longer felt like a shield, but a cage.
Something inside her finally broke. She sagged forward suddenly, her forehead pressing into his chest as a sob tore out of her. Her hands twisted in his robes, clinging now rather than striking.
Lin Rui hesitated for only a second. Then, his arm moved on its own, pulling her against him. In that moment, he was not the Khan anymore. He just let her cry.
The only thing he could feel was the shaking of her shoulders and the warmth of her body against his chest. Every lie he had told and every wall he had built to stay away from her suddenly crumbled.
Fate, it seemed, had a cruel sense of humor.
Her sobs eventually softened into uneven breaths. Her body grew heavy with the combined weight of wine and grief. Lin Rui remained perfectly still, afraid that any movement would shatter her fragile calm.
Then her hand rose slowly. She reached up, fingers brushing the edge of his mask.
"No," he whispered, his heart stopping.
She didn't hear him. With clumsy, drunken determination, she tugged at the mask, lifting it to reveal the face beneath.
Ruhan stared back at her.
Her breath caught sharply as her eyes widened in shock.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
"Ruhan," she breathed, disbelief flooding her eyes.
Lin Rui reached for the mask instinctively, but it was too late.
She cupped his face with both hands, studying him as if afraid he would vanish if she blinked. "You're here," she whispered. "You're alive."
Before he could stop her, she leaned in.
The contact was soft and desperate, tasting of wine, grief, and a longing that had been suppressed for too long.
Lin Rui's body reacted before his mind could.
Then reality crashed down on him. The weight of the crown and the threat of the plot rush back coldly. He pulled back sharply, catching her shoulders and holding them gently but firmly away from his face.
"Lian Zhi," he said, his voice strained and cracking.
"I thought you were gone," she murmured. "I thought… I thought they took you away."
Tears filled her eyes again, but this time they slid down silently.
"I missed you so much."
He held her face in his hands, unable to pull away, trapped between the man he was and the Khan he had to be. He wanted to tell her the truth, to promise her everything would be okay, but the words died in his throat.
Before anything further could happen, she collapsed onto his chest.