The discharge time had come. Inside the ward, Zhen carefully packed all of Anya's belongings. Every movement he made was calm, deliberate, as if he could sense her presence even while she rested. Anya looked better than before, wearing that same serene mask over her face.
Far from the hospital's security room, the mysterious stranger was still hacking into the system, monitoring the live footage. Seeing Zhen handle Anya's clothes, a wave of hatred surged through his eyes. He traced her face on the screen with a finger.
Stranger (thinking): "Zhen Yan… are you taking her home, or walking into your death? Anya was never yours. She's just a bird you've been keeping frightened… but the hawk has returned."
Inside the ward, Anya tried to stand on her own. Her legs touched the floor, but weakness made her steps falter. Zhen immediately set aside his files and caught her with lightning speed.
Anya (firmly): "Let go of me. I can walk by myself. I don't need your help."
Zhen ignored her words and bent down, lifting her effortlessly into his strong arms. For a moment, Anya's body stiffened.
Anya (whispering angrily): "What kind of insolence is this, Zhen? I said I can walk!"
Zhen (cold, near her ear): "Be quiet, Anya. You were the one who said in front of everyone that I am the 'ideal husband' and that I would take care of you well. I'm just playing my part. A wolf never breaks his promise."
Anya clenched her fist against Zhen's collar. She could resist him, but she couldn't defy him openly—nurses and staff were watching outside.
At the hospital gate, Zhen's luxurious black car was waiting. Qiyan sat in the driver's seat, while Huan Jing was already in the back, waiting. Zhen gently placed Anya beside Jing.
Anya breathed a sigh of relief—at least Jing was close to her. Zhen, instead of sitting behind, took the front seat beside Qiyan.
As the car started moving, a heavy silence settled. Qiyan and Huan Jing couldn't even look at each other. Zhen's presence filled the atmosphere with tension, so much so that Qiyan's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.
Zhen stared straight ahead, but his eyes were fixed on the rear-view mirror. In the reflection, he only saw Anya.
Zhen (in the mirror): "Qiyan, drive slowly."
Qiyan: "Yes, boss."
Huan Jing held Anya's hand. She felt it growing cold. She glanced at Qiyan, and the same apprehension was reflected in his eyes. Slowly, the oppressive silence inside the car began to ease. Huan Jing, who had been tense until now, relaxed slightly seeing Anya's courage. She noticed Anya hiding her pain, trying to make her feel at ease.
Huan Jing leaned closer to Anya and gently touched the white bandage on her forehead.
Huan Jing (teasing): "Look at you, Anya. Even with a bandage, you're no less than a drama queen. Even after all that injury, your glow hasn't dimmed."
Anya laughed out loud. Hearing her laugh, Zhen's ears perked up. In the rear-view mirror, he saw her laughter, and his heart skipped a beat for a moment.
Anya: "Really? Then what are we waiting for? Let's immortalize this 'wounded warrior' look. Jing, take out your phone—we're taking selfies!"
Huan Jing happily pulled out her phone. Both friends began making pouty and funny faces, deliberately exaggerating expressions. Anya playfully flaunted her bandage, sticking her tongue out and making a crooked face toward Jing's phone. Jing refused to lose, tilting her eyes and striking a matching funny pose.
Anya: "Jing, look! In this photo, your nose looks exactly like that cartoon we used to tease you about as kids."
Hearing this, Jing gently nudged her, and both burst into laughter. Anya's carefree, tinkling laugh echoed inside the closed car windows.
Qiyan, who had been holding his breath while driving, couldn't suppress his smile anymore. He glanced at Jing through the glass and chuckled softly.
Qiyan (quietly): "Boss, I thought today's trip would be the longest, but these two are like they're on a picnic."
Zhen, who had maintained a stern expression, caught Anya's sparkling eyes in the mirror. Her laughter was like balm to him. A rare, faint smile appeared on Zhen's lips—a smile the world had probably never seen.
Zhen (softly, to Qiyan): "These women, they always know how to selfie in any situation."
Anya noticed Zhen's eyes fixed on her in the mirror. For a brief moment, their gaze locked. In Zhen's eyes, there was no arrogance now, only profound devotion. Anya quickly averted her gaze and returned her attention to the selfies with Jing, but her heartbeat had already quickened from that single smile.
Zhen continued to watch Anya in the mirror. He realized that her laughter was his world, and he would never risk losing it again.The grand gates of the mansion opened, and Zhen's convoy of black cars drove inside. Once again, he did exactly what he had done at the hospital—without a single word, he lifted Anya into his arms.
Carrying her, Zhen climbed the stairs and reached her room. The moment he opened the door, Anya's own little world came into view. The walls of the room were covered with posters of Jungkook, collages of Korean dramas, and all her favorite things arranged just the way she liked.
Zhen gently laid Anya down on her soft bed. His gaze fell on those posters—the same ones he had once dismissed as "childish." Today, he said nothing. There was a strange calm on his face, as if he had already begun to accept every one of Anya's preferences as a part of his own existence.
Qiyan and Huan Jing stopped at the doorway. The two exchanged a glance and immediately understood that it was better to leave Zhen and Anya alone at this moment. Not wanting to disturb them, they quietly went downstairs.