The guest room door clicked shut behind her, but Wu Mei didn't move.
She stood quietly in the softly lit space, her heart still unsettled. Outside, the moon hung low above the Qin estate, casting long silver beams through the window. Inside, everything was still—too still.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, brushing her fingers across the sheets. So clean. So unfamiliar. It reminded her just how far she still was from reclaiming what she had lost.
Then—three gentle knocks on the door.
Before she could respond, the handle turned, and Qin Yanzhou stepped inside.
He looked different now. Less composed. His shirt was half unbuttoned, sleeves rolled carelessly to his elbows. His gaze swept over her, intense and unreadable.
"You didn't lock your door," he said, closing it behind him.
"I didn't think I needed to," she replied softly, surprised by his sudden presence.
He walked toward her, his movements slow but sure. "I can't sleep," he admitted.
"Because of me?" she asked.
He didn't answer. Instead, he sat beside her on the bed, so close their legs brushed. The mattress dipped under his weight. For a few seconds, silence stretched between them, thick and charged.
"I told myself I shouldn't come here," he murmured, not looking at her. "But I couldn't stop thinking about your voice. Your kiss. Your eyes."
Wu Mei turned her face toward him, her voice low. "So why did you come?"
He finally met her gaze. "Because I don't want to be alone tonight."
He reached for her then, his hand brushing gently along her jawline, his thumb stroking the edge of her cheek. His touch wasn't demanding—but it lingered, hesitant like a man afraid of waking from a dream.
"Yanzhou…" she whispered.
"I shouldn't want this," he said, his breath brushing against her lips. "But I do."
And then he kissed her.
This wasn't the unsure kiss from the car. This was deeper—hungry, searching, as if he were trying to remember something buried deep in his soul. His mouth moved against hers with quiet desperation, tasting every part of her, like he needed proof that she was real.
Wu Mei gasped softly, her hands finding his shoulders. She held onto him, her pulse racing, her thoughts spinning. He pulled her closer, and she could feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of her silk robe.
His fingers slid behind her neck, threading through her hair. He kissed her again, longer this time, slower—his lips trailing down the corner of her mouth to the edge of her jaw.
"Tell me I'm not dreaming," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "Tell me you're really here."
"I'm here," she whispered.
He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. "I missed this. I missed you… even when I told myself I hated you."
Her heart clenched. She reached up to touch his face, her palm warm against his cheek. "Then don't push me away again."
Qin Yanzhou didn't reply. He leaned in once more, resting his forehead against hers. His breath was shaky, uneven.
"Let me stay here tonight," he said suddenly.
Wu Mei blinked. "What?"
"I don't want to sleep in that cold room," he murmured, already pulling the blanket back and sliding in beside her. "I want to feel you next to me."
He didn't wait for permission.
He lay down beside her, his arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her close. His head tucked into the crook of her neck like he'd done so many times before. The scent of his cologne, the way his chest rose and fell against her—everything was familiar. Too familiar.
Wu Mei's heart beat wildly, but she didn't stop him. She turned onto her side, facing him, her hand resting gently against his chest.
His voice was barely audible. "I don't know what we are anymore. But I can't stop wanting you."
She whispered, "Then let's be together"
And in the quiet stillness of the night, wrapped in each other's arms, they fell asleep—tangled in warmth, longing, and the hope of something reborn