The morning after the meeting bled into pale silence. Rain had come sometime before dawn, and now the world outside their window was washed in a gray haze. The city sounded different in the rain... muted, almost gentle.
Inside the apartment, Zhao Liren moved around the kitchen in that half-awake chaos of someone trying to act normal when nothing was. The kettle hissed, toast popped, and the clock ticked louder than it should.
Li An sat on the couch, knees drawn up, wrapped in one of Zhao's hoodies that swallowed him whole. His gaze lingered on the window, watching droplets chase each other down the glass. There was calm in his posture, but something behind his eyes said otherwise.
Zhao noticed it... the stillness, the kind that didn't belong to rest but to someone trying to hold themselves together.
"You didn't sleep again, did you?"
Li An's answer came quiet. "I tried."
Zhao sighed, setting down the mugs. "You're gonna collapse if you keep this up."
Before Li An could reply, a sharp knock echoed through the apartment. Three steady taps... measured, unhurried, confident.
Zhao froze mid-step.
"That's him," he muttered.
Li An's heartbeat stuttered. "Shen Lian?"
"Yeah." Zhao moved to open the door, trying for casual, but his voice carried tension like a hidden blade.
When the door swung open, Shen Lian stood there... tall, composed, rain clinging to his coat like it belonged there. His presence filled the space before he even stepped in. The faint scent of smoke and rain followed him, grounding and dangerous all at once.
"Morning," he said simply, voice smooth but cool. His eyes flicked briefly to Zhao, then to Li An- no, for him he was Qin Yuelin who was sitting on the couch.
For a heartbeat, Shen Lian stopped breathing.
Qin Yuelin looked up... and the world seemed to tilt. The light from the window hit his face just so, outlining his soft features in pale gold. His lashes were long enough to cast shadows on his cheeks, and his lips, slightly parted, carried that faint, unguarded vulnerability that didn't seem real.
Shen Lian had seen beauty before, the kind that drew attention and then faded... but this… this was different. There was something wrong with how right he looked. Something human and not, like his existence disrupted the air around him.
And he was a boy.
That realization cut through Shen's mind like a spark against dry tinder. But it didn't dull the way his gaze lingered... a flicker of disbelief, fascination, and something dangerous curling beneath it.
"You're letting strangers in this early?" Zhao broke the silence, trying to ease the weight in the air.
Shen's voice came low. "You called me, remember?"
Zhao moved aside. "Yeah, yeah. Come in before the rain decides to drown the hallway."
Shen stepped inside, his boots leaving faint prints on the floor. His eyes swept the room, every detail catalogued. the open curtains, the books stacked unevenly on the table, the faint scent of citrus and antiseptic. Then, they settled again on Qin Yuelin.
"Qin Yuelin," he said the name like a verdict.
Qin's fingers tightened on the hem of the hoodie. "You don't have to say it like it's a crime," he murmured.
"Maybe it is," Shen replied softly.
Zhao shot him a look. "Enough, Lian. He's been through hell, not trial."
Shen ignored him, walking closer. The faint floor creak felt louder than it should. He stopped a few feet away from Qin, who met his gaze despite the quiet unease trembling under his calm surface.
"Tell me what you remember from that night," Shen said.
Qin hesitated, then glanced at Zhao. "Do I have to?"
Shen's expression didn't change. "If you want me to help you."
Zhao nodded, motioning for him to go on.
The rain outside had turned heavier, soft thunder murmuring somewhere distant. Qin's voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper. "I remember hearing my name… in the dark. It wasn't a dream. It felt... real. Like someone standing right next to me."
"Did you see anything?"
"…just a shadow," Qin said. "And the mirror. The words... 'Found you.'"
Shen's eyes narrowed. "You're sure it was written in blood?"
"Yes," Zhao answered before Qin could. "It wasn't paint or marker. I checked."
For a moment, Shen said nothing. Then he exhaled slowly, lowering himself into the armchair opposite them. His coat fell open, revealing the black shirt beneath... fitted, functional, but worn in ways that told stories.
"Do you believe in ghosts, Qin Yuelin?"
Qin blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"It's a simple question."
"I… don't know. I've seen enough to not know anymore."
Shen leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on him. "Good answer."
The air between them changed. The distance grew smaller... not physical, but charged. Shen's gaze wasn't merely observant; it was consuming, as though he was trying to read something under Qin's skin.
And Qin felt it. Felt every ounce of that attention... how it slid across his features, heavy, deliberate. His pulse stuttered. The way Shen looked at him wasn't the way people usually did. It was as if he saw something fragile and terrible in equal measure.
Zhao noticed it too. His jaw tightened slightly.
"Lian," he said, tone warning.
Shen didn't look away. "Relax, Liren. I'm just observing."
Zhao crossed his arms. "You observe like you're about to dissect someone."
Shen smirked faintly. "Old habits."
Qin looked between them, uncertain whether to be amused or unnerved.
To break the tension, Zhao grabbed his coat. "I'll grab groceries. You two try not to kill each other... or flirt. Both seem equally likely."
Qin flushed. "Zhao-"
But the door shut behind him with a soft click.
Silence filled the apartment again.
Shen leaned back, one hand resting on the armrest, his eyes tracing Qin's face with the kind of focus that made the younger man's breath catch.
"Why does he call you Li An?" Shen asked.
"It's easier," Qin murmured. "And safer."
"Safer from what?"
Qin hesitated. "…from what my name brings."
Shen studied him, then said quietly, "Names have power. Sometimes they remember what we try to forget."
His words landed heavy, lingering in the space between them. Qin looked up, meeting his eyes... and for a second, he saw something there. Not judgment, not pity… but recognition. Like Shen had seen the same ghosts once before.
"You've seen this before," Qin said softly.
Shen's jaw tightened. "Something like it."
"What happened?"
He looked away. "They didn't survive."
The clock ticked. The rain fell harder.
Something shifted in the room then... barely noticeable, like the air had gone colder. Qin frowned, glancing toward the hallway.
"Do you feel that?" he whispered.
Shen stood immediately. "Stay here."
Before Qin could protest, Shen was already moving down the narrow hallway, his movements silent but alert. The door to the bathroom was ajar. A faint dripping sound echoed.
He pushed it open slowly.
The mirror.
It was fogged over, but through the haze, faint letters began to appear... drawn from nothing, as though invisible fingers carved them from air.
"You can't hide, Qin."
Shen's reflection stared back at him... calm, unreadable... but his hand had tightened into a fist.
Behind him, Qin's voice trembled. "What does it say?"
Shen didn't answer immediately. He turned toward him, expression unreadable. "It's not over."
Then, faintly... the sound of a whisper.
Right next to Qin's ear.
He flinched, spinning around. No one there.
But Shen saw it... a faint mark appearing on Qin's wrist, thin, red, like a cut being drawn by an invisible hand.
Qin gasped, pain flashing across his face.
Shen crossed the distance in seconds, grabbing his hand, his voice low but sharp. "Hey... look at me."
Qin's breath came in shallow bursts, his eyes unfocused. The mark deepened, crimson against his pale skin.
"Stop," Shen hissed under his breath... not to Qin, but to something. "You want him, you'll have to go through me."
And just like that... the bleeding stopped.
Qin slumped forward, breath shaking. Shen caught him before he hit the ground. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Qin whispered, voice trembling, "You saw it too… didn't you?"
Shen's hand lingered against his wrist, thumb brushing the fading mark. His voice came quiet, almost reverent. "Yeah. I saw it."
Outside, thunder rolled again, closer this time.
Shen lifted his gaze to the fogged mirror... where new words had appeared, thin and deliberate:
"Welcome back."
And beneath it, scrawled faintly....Shen Lian.
END OF THE CHAPTER.