Shu Mingye stood at the doorway.
Oh no. Of all the times in the world, why now?
His sharp gaze swept over her. Something red streaked from the corners of her eyes, trailing down her cheeks. More red smeared across her lips and chin. Her robes and sleeves were stained. And the bed. The poor bed. It looked like it had just witnessed a murder.
In an instant, he crossed the room. He dropped to one knee beside her, one hand gripping the edge of the bed, the other already reaching for her wrist to check her pulse. His eyes darted over her face, her neck, her arm—searching for the wound, for the reason—every line of his body tense with worry.
Before he could speak, Linyue weakly raised a hand, her finger trembling slightly. "Before you say anything," she said, voice hoarse, "this is not what you're thinking. I'm fine. It's just a… a small mishap."
Shu Mingye didn't look even slightly convinced. His hand rose, slow and careful, until his fingers brushed her cheek. His touch was warm but gentle, almost hesitant, as if she might break beneath it. His thumb swiped lightly across the red streaks on her skin.
For a second, he seemed to hope it was something harmless. Maybe dirt. Maybe ink. Maybe the remnants of some strange experiment she had been playing with again.
But it was not. It was warm. Wet. Definitely blood.
His jaw tightened. Without a word, he stood.
"Where are you going?" Linyue asked quickly, grabbing his sleeve.
"To call the physician."
"No need," she said, tugging him. "I'm really fine."
"You are covered in blood."
"It's because… I was testing something," she explained, as if that made it any less horrifying.
Shu Mingye let out a long, quiet sigh. His dark eyes scanned her again. Her pale face, the red stains on her cheek and robes, the way her hands trembled slightly.
Testing something, she said.
"Linyue," he said softly, frowning, "you do know that you look like a mess, right?"
Linyue blinked, looking down at herself as if seeing the disaster for the first time. "I've looked worse," she muttered. "I'm really fine."
That was not convincing. Not even a little. His frown deepened. "Then how can you explain this?" he demanded, motioning toward the crimson chaos around her. "I thought you'd be safe in your chamber. Sleeping. Napping. Snacking. Reading some ancient, painfully boring book about arrays. Not—" His gaze swept over the blood again. "Not sitting in a murder scene."
Linyue hesitated, clearly searching for a way out. "It's… a bit complicated," she said carefully.
Ah. That again. The vague answer. The soft dodge. The polite way of saying I don't trust you enough to tell you yet. Shu Mingye felt that familiar ache sink into his chest. He trusted her. He always did. But trust didn't make it hurt less when she kept him on the outside.
"…Fine," he said at last, his voice quiet and unreadable.
Before she could react, he stepped forward and scooped her cleanly off the bed.
"Wait!" Linyue yelped, her hands flying up to grab his shoulders. "What are you doing?"
He didn't answer. His grip only tightened around her waist as he turned and strode toward the door with calm, terrifying purpose.
Linyue stared at him, wide-eyed. "Where are we going?"
Shu Mingye didn't reply. He didn't want to look at her. Not now. Not when her eyes still held secrets. Not when his chest felt too tight to breathe. If he spoke now, he'd either say something too harsh or become too soft. And he didn't want to be soft. Not when she bled in silence and refused to lean on him. Not when she always, always chose to carry everything alone. So he kept walking. Past the silent corridor. Past the startled guards who suddenly found the ceiling very interesting. Past the maids who froze mid-step, clutching their brooms like weapons.
Linyue opened her mouth, then closed it again. She could feel the tension in his arms, the quiet frustration hidden behind every deliberate step. He was calm on the outside, but she could feel the storm underneath.
"…Are you angry?" she finally whispered.
No answer. Not even a glance. But his arms didn't loosen either. He held her carefully. Even when he was upset. Even when his heart was quietly breaking.
He still said nothing as he reached his chamber. With one sharp kick, the door swung open, slamming against the wall.
Linyue flinched slightly but stayed quiet.
He walked straight to the bed and gently laid her down, adjusting the pillow beneath her head. His hands were steady, but his jaw was tight. His brows were furrowed. There was a storm brewing behind his dark eyes, quiet but fierce.
Linyue pushed herself up a little, her gaze following him. He didn't yell. He didn't scold. He just stood beside the bed, hands clenched tight at his sides, gaze fixed somewhere past her. That silence felt heavier than any shouting.
"…I'm sorry," she said softly.
Finally, Shu Mingye looked at her. His sharp, dark eyes locked onto hers. "For what?" he asked, voice low and rough.
Linyue blinked. He wasn't loud, but his words still cut deep. Not because they were cruel. But because he was clearly trying so hard not to be.
He took a breath. His fingers twitched at his sides, like he wanted to reach for her but didn't trust himself to do it.
A long sigh left him. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She looked pale, tired, and fragile in a way she would probably deny if he said it out loud. He wanted to hold her like before, but something inside him hesitated.
Was he even worthy of her trust? Of her warmth? Though she wasn't even warm. He knew he was greedy. He wanted too much from her. Her safety, her trust… her heart. Wanting her to lean on him, even when she refused to. And still, no matter how much he reached, she always stood just a step away.
His thoughts tangled in silence. Then, something cool brushed his hand.
He blinked and looked down.
She was holding his hand. Gently tugging it.
Linyue's fingers had slipped into his. Her hand was cold, trembling slightly as she gave his a gentle tug.
"I'm cold," Linyue said softly.
His chest tightened at her voice, like something inside him had cracked open. He looked at her again—at her pale face, the faint red stain near her lip, and those calm, quiet eyes that finally looked at him without walls.
Without a word, he sat down beside her on the bed. Then he pulled her into his lap. One arm wrapped around her waist, steady and protective. The other rested on her shoulder as he eased her gently against his chest.
"Warm?" he asked.
Linyue gave a small nod.
To his surprise, she rubbed her head lightly against his chest, like a sleepy cat curling into a warm blanket. It was such a small movement, yet it made his heart thud. Her skin was cold, icy enough that he could feel it even through the layers of her robe.
He lowered his head and let his chin rest lightly on her hair. "The plant you gave me…" he murmured, his voice low and warm against her ear. "It worked. The medicine's helping. People are getting better."
Linyue looked up at him, eyes lighting up. "Really? That's great." Then she tilted her head slightly. "Will I get moon dumplings as a reward?"
Shu Mingye blinked, then exhaled a long, weary sigh. "Really? Dumplings? That's what's in your mind right now?"
Her lips curved in a faint smile. "Well… you look grumpy," she said softly. "Maybe dumplings can make you feel better."
Shu mingye glanced down at her. "No. it won't."
Linyue tilted her head. "Then…"
He hesitated. His voice came quieter this time, as if the words weighed too much. "Do you… want to go back to Luyan?"
Linyue blinked. The question caught her off guard.
She lifted her head a little, searching his face, but he didn't meet her eyes. He just held her there, his arms firm around her, gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the wall. The question lingered in the air, soft but heavy, wrapping around them both.
Her head slowly lowered again, resting against his chest. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. After a long silence, she whispered, "Do you want me to go back?"
Shu Mingye's jaw tightened. He didn't answer right away. His eyes stayed on the wall, expression calm and unreadable, but the silence between them spoke louder than any words.
He didn't want her to go. Of course he didn't. He wanted to keep her here, close enough to hear her quiet breathing when she slept. He wanted her cold hands tugging at his sleeves, her soft voice breaking through his temper, even her maddening secrets that made him want to shake her and hold her at the same time. He wanted everything that was her.
But wanting was dangerous. She would be safer in Luyan. Xuanyi Pavilion was a better place for her. Prince Lu treated her well. She would live well, protected and cared for, away from the blood and shadows he carried. Shulin… was not a good place. And worse, it had him. He was not a generous man. Not a kind one. His heart was not a safe thing to be near. And if she stayed, he knew himself well enough to admit that he wouldn't let her go. He might really chain her down just to keep her close. So he forced himself to do the one thing that hurt more than anything else. He gave her a way out.
His voice came low and steady, but each word scraped against his throat. "I'll let you go," he said slowly. "If you want to go back."