Being caressed by Ji Nian, Lu Jinghuai was uncharacteristically stiff.
He didn’t dare move.
He feared this was a fragile dream, one that would scatter like mist at the slightest touch.
"Lu Jinghuai?"
"Ah-Huai??"
Seeing him standing there like someone had hit pause, his gaze unfocused as he stared at her, Ji Nian called his name.
She even instinctively pinched his cheek.
The flesh beneath her fingers felt thin, barely there.
In just a few days, Lu Jinghuai had grown alarmingly gaunt, his frame nearly skeletal.
The pinch snapped Lu Jinghuai out of whatever trance he’d been in, as if startled awake from a nightmare. In an instant, he wrapped his arms around her.
Feeling the familiar warmth of her body, realizing the person before him wasn’t an illusion but the real Ji Nian, he buried his face in her soft hair, his voice hoarse. "You came for me?"
The moment he embraced her, Ji Nian reflexively kicked the door shut behind her.
"Of course. How could I let you face something this big alone?"
Held tightly in his arms, she couldn’t even see his expression. All she could do was lift a hand and pat his back gently.
At her words, Lu Jinghuai instinctively tightened his grip.
A dagger hidden in his sleeve clattered to the floor.
Ji Nian stared at the gleaming blade and thought, I should have come sooner.
After only a brief embrace—though reluctant to let go—he forced himself to release her with practiced restraint.
Putting distance between them, his expression shifted back to the usual Lu Jinghuai, save for the sharp angles of his hollowed cheeks. His silver-gray eyes showed no trace of the storm within.
"Tomorrow, I’ll arrange for someone to take you back. This place…"
"Isn’t safe."
Ji Nian’s presence meant she already knew.
The truth couldn’t stay hidden much longer. If the Ji family had uncovered it, it wasn’t surprising.
He motioned for her to sit on the sofa before turning to switch on the lights.
This wasn’t Ji Nian’s first time in his bedroom here, and a quick glance confirmed the furnishings were much the same as before.
Standing by the sofa, she looked up at him.
Meeting her gaze, Lu Jinghuai offered a faint smile. "I’ll be fine on my own."
"The situation isn’t in my favor."
"But when I was young, my mother anticipated emergencies like this. She taught me how to handle them—"
"Enough." Ji Nian cut him off.
She beckoned to him, still standing apart.
"Come here."
Uncertain of her intent but compelled by instinct, Lu Jinghuai obeyed, stepping forward.
Ji Nian seized his wrist and guided him back to the sofa, pushing him down onto the cushions.
Then she stood before him, bending slightly, and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.
The scent unique to her was like a snowbound traveler stumbling upon a cabin with a crackling fire—so warm it brought tears to his eyes.
Lu Jinghuai sniffled.
His body sank into the embrace as if sinking into a plush quilt, tension seeping away all at once.
Only then did he realize how long he’d been wound tight.
So long that the release nearly broke him.
He lifted his arms, pulling her closer.
Ji Nian ran her fingers through his hair.
The once-lustrous golden strands now looked dull under the light.
"You’ve been through so much."
Four simple words, yet they carried the weight of countless unspoken ones.
Lu Jinghuai melted into her hold. Where Ji Nian couldn’t see, his pale gold lashes trembled like fragile butterfly wings.
Tears spilled silently, rolling down in fat, transparent drops.
The boy who loved fake-crying now wept in earnest—yet he couldn’t bear for his beloved to witness it.
Ji Nian pretended not to notice, continuing to stroke his hair gently.
"What I’m about to say might sound like empty comfort, but I truly believe His Highness and Uncle Lu Zhi will return."
Lu Jinghuai let out a quiet "Mm."
His voice gave no hint of the tears.
Leaning against her shoulder, he took a moment before speaking again.
"They went to that stretch of sea… to prepare a birthday gift for me."
Ji Nian fell silent.
"It’s my fault… I might as well have killed them myself."
The words were a whisper, raw with guilt.
Contrary to what others believed, Lu Jinghuai wasn’t calm at all. The pain had been so overwhelming his body had shut down in self-defense.
From a young age, he’d known his mother was different. She was always busy—so busy that his grandmother had filled her role in every milestone of his childhood.
But Lu Jinghuai never felt lonely.
He understood his mother’s importance. More people needed her than just him. And she never forgot him. As a child, he’d often wake in the dead of night to a kiss from her, her lips still carrying the chill of the outside world.
His father was more complicated.
Lu Jinghuai had once believed the man didn’t love him—that any care shown was only because he shared his mother’s blood.
But after the accident, his father changed. The man who’d orbited around his mother or buried himself in work now kept vigil by Lu Jinghuai’s bedside, waking in terror from nightmares to check if his son still breathed.
Lu Jinghuai’s parents weren’t like others, but their love was no less.
And he loved them too.
Even if he’d never said it.
"I…"
His voice cracked when he spoke again, the sob unmistakable.
Ji Nian held him tighter, as if cradling a puppet whose heart had been ripped out.
"Ji Nian… I’m scared."
"I can’t lose them."
"If I don’t celebrate my birthday… will they come back?"
Even the cleverest, strongest boy could crumble when faced with losing his family.
Even Lu Jinghuai was no exception.
Yet he didn’t wallow in despair. Within moments, he steadied himself—his resilience astonishing even Ji Nian.
At the very least…
If it were Ji Tingzhou who’d gone missing, she couldn’t promise she’d recover so quickly.
"Sorry you had to see me like this."
He wiped away the tear clinging to his lashes, his fair eyelids flushed pink. His silver-gray eyes, brimming with sorrow, met Ji Nian’s.
She shook her head. "Everyone has moments like these. Letting it out hurts less than bottling it up. You don’t have to suppress yourself just because you’re Lu Jinghuai."
When she straightened, Lu Jinghuai resisted, refusing to let go.
Only after a stern look did he reluctantly release her, his expression as dejected as a scolded puppy’s.
Ji Nian knelt, pressing his hand against his own chest.
"Listen. It’s still beating."
