The maids bowed and retreated, leaving a tense silence in the room. Outside, the rain pattered against the courtyard stones, its steady rhythm almost masking the faint sound of a distant engine fading into the night, taking Yueyao farther and farther away from the Shen household.
Old Master Shen sat back slowly, his hands gripping the armrests as though letting go would make him collapse entirely. The shadows beneath his eyes deepened, making him look far older than he had that morning.
Across from him, Old Madam Shen dabbed at her cheeks with the edge of a silk handkerchief, her knuckles trembling. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words ca.
The low murmur of the hospital lobby carried on around them, nurses passing with clipped footsteps, the squeak of a gurney wheel, the soft chi of the elevator doors. None of it reached them.
Finally, Old Master Shen exhaled a long, weary breath.
"Whatever happens after this," he said hoarsely, "we protect the boy. No matter what it costs us."
Old Madam Shen’s fingers stilled against her damp lashes. She looked at her husband, startled, searching his face for aning.
Outside, the city moved on as if nothing had happened. Inside, ti felt as though it had stopped entirely.
— — — — — — —
"You are safe now..." Jin Shuren’s low murmur was almost swallowed by the steady thrum of the rotors.
Three hours had passed since takeoff. Outside, the night stretched on endlessly, stars faintly scattered across the horizon.
Inside the cabin, the golden glow had softened further, cocooning them in warmth.
Yueyao stirred, her brows knit, breath coming uneven as though her mind was trapped in so unseen storm.
Suddenly, her body jerked upright, a quiet gasp escaping her lips. Her eyes darted wildly, panic flickering across her face.
Her hand reached instinctively toward her temples, fingers digging in as if she could claw away the shadows haunting her mind. Her breaths quickened, each one edged with a sob that hadn’t yet broken free.
Jin Shuren shifted imdiately, rising from the low seat where he had been watching over her. He didn’t reach for her, didn’t restrain her, but his presence pressed closer, steady and immovable, like a wall against the storm. His gaze held firm, unyielding, waiting.
And then, her eyes landed on the small figure curled under a blanket nearby. Yueqin’s tiny chest rose and fell in a calm rhythm, her soft lashes brushing against her cheeks.
Yueyao’s panic faltered. Her hand stilled, slowly, trembling, she slipped off the bed and knelt beside her daughter, gathering her into her arms.
The sobs that wracked her grew quieter, muffled into the child’s hair as she cradled her desperately.
Yueqin stirred only faintly, letting out a soft murmur before nestling deeper against her mother’s warmth.
Yueyao’s tears ca freely now, but the storm in her eyes dimd, steadied. She clutched Yueqin close as though the child were the thread holding her together.
"Yueyao..." Fang Lin’s soft call ca from across the cabin.
Yueyao’s head snapped up, and for the first ti, her gaze locked onto her friend. For a heartbeat, disbelief clouded her expression. Then, recognition washed over her, and sothing bright, sothing almost childlike, broke through the exhaustion.
"Lin... Lin!" Her voice cracked with raw relief.
Fang Lin crossed quickly, crouching beside her. Yueyao caught her hand, clutching it as if afraid it might vanish.
"If it weren’t for you..." Yueyao’s voice trembled, her tears streaking freshly down her cheeks. "If it weren’t for you, I... I’d still be trapped... I wouldn’t have made it out alive..."
Fang Lin squeezed her hand back, her own eyes glistening. "Silly girl. You have suffered enough I wouldn’t have ignored you. Don’t thank , you are here now. That’s all that matters."
Jin Shuren remained silent, watching from a asured distance. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t remind Yueyao of her fragility or her unstable condition.
Her mind was fractured, yes, but he had already decided: he would bear the weight of that, if it ant keeping her and Yueqin within reach.
The hum of the engines filled the cabin once more, carrying them through the night. But for the first ti since departure, there was sothing else mingled within the silence, soft laughter between old friends, and the quiet, steady heartbeat of a child, anchoring them all.
The night stretched on. The helicopter was a cocoon in the sky, its hum steady, its warmth an illusion of peace.
Fang Lin’s hand lingered in Yueyao’s grasp, her thumb brushing lightly over trembling knuckles.
She had never seen her friend this fragile, and yet, beneath the cracks, there was still sothing unyielding in Yueyao’s gaze, a flicker of fire that refused to die out.
"Rest a little more," Fang Lin whispered, her voice tender but firm. "You need to rest for your health."
Yueyao blinked, lips parting as if to speak, but no words ca. Instead, she lowered her head, burying her face into Yueqin’s hair, inhaling the child’s warmth as if it were her only lifeline.
No one was gonna take her away from her... It was her baby...
Across the cabin, Jin Zhou pretended to doze, but his eyes were half-open, flicking often to Jin Shuren.
He knew that look of their boss, the one Shuren wore now. Cold and calculating. A man who already had a hundred steps plotted ahead, even as the woman he carried was shattering piece by piece.
Jin Shuren leaned back in his seat, fingers steepled beneath his chin, but his gaze never left the mother and child. He didn’t move to comfort them, didn’t offer soothing words. He knew she was still having hallucinations and was very ntally unstable at the mont... The last thing he needed to do was to rile her emotions.
His silence itself was a vow, his stillness the shield he had built around them. He will protect the two of them forever; no one is gonna take Yueyao away from him.
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