A whisper of movement.
Zian's head turned toward the cot.
Her fingers twitched… then clenched.
Mei's eyes flew open — not with calm awakening, but with the raw jolt of someone pulled from drowning. Her gaze whipped around the tent, taking in the flicker of firelight, the shadow of armored men, the unknown faces.
"Wh–where am I?!" Her voice was already breaking.
Zian didn't move. He'd seen that kind of fear before — sudden, feral.
Mr. Su stepped forward. "Miss, listen—"
"Don't come closer!" she snapped, dragging the blanket tighter around herself like it was armor. Her breathing was ragged, her pupils blown wide. "Who are you?! What did you do to me?!"
"You're safe—" Zian began.
"Safe?!" Her laugh was a single sharp breath. "I wake up in a strange place, surrounded by strange men, and I don't even know my name—how is that safe?!"
Her hands shook as if she was ready to claw her way out of the tent. "What happened to me? Why can't I remember?!"
She swung her legs down, but the ground rushed up at her — only Zian's arms kept her from hitting it.
The contact made her panic worse. "Let me go!" She shoved at his chest, twisting, frantic. "Don't touch me! I don't know you! I don't know any of you!"
He could feel the tremors in her muscles, the uncontrolled rise of her breath. She wasn't just scared — she was on the edge of a full collapse.
"Mei—"
Her head snapped toward him. "Why are you calling me that?!" Her voice was shrill now, cutting through the low hum of the camp outside.
Zian's jaw tightened. "Because it's your name."
"I don't believe you!" She pushed harder, nails digging in, desperate to break free. "I'm not staying here—I'm not—"
The words dissolved into uneven gasps. Her chest heaved, her vision already blurring.
Zian exhaled once. "Forgive me."
"What—"
The edge of his hand struck the back of her neck — precise, controlled. The fight went out of her instantly.
He caught her before she could hit the ground, holding her just a moment longer than necessary.
Her head lolled against his shoulder, and for the briefest moment, his thumb brushed the jade pendant at her neck.
His expression hardened.
"Whether she remembers or not… she's under my protection now."
Mr. Su said nothing, but the look in his eyes made it clear — he understood exactly what that meant.
Outside, the wind rattled the tent flaps, like distant claws scratching to get in.
The tension exchange between Zian and Mr. Su feel more urgent, sharp, and heavy with stakes.
Zian laid her on the cot, tucking the blanket around her. For a heartbeat, he stood there, watching her face in the lantern glow. Then, without a word, he stepped out into the night, his boots crunching against the frost-hardened ground.
Mr. Su was waiting. He didn't speak until they were inside his tent, the flap closed, the shadows pressing in.
"You saw her, General," Mr. Su said, his voice like a blade. "That wasn't just fear — that was a mind on the edge of breaking. She doesn't want to be here. If she keeps panicking like this, she won't survive it."
Zian's reply was clipped. "Then fix it. Whatever it takes. I don't care how — just make her better."
Mr. Su's eyes hardened. "Physical wounds, yes. Those I can heal. But her memories? That's a battlefield I can't fight on."
Zian's gaze sharpened. "Then who can?"
"The only way to quiet her fear is to give her back her past."
A muscle in Zian's jaw jumped. "Her past?" His voice was low, dangerous. "You expect me to give her something I don't have?"
Mr. Su didn't back down. "And that's exactly the problem. We know nothing about who she is, where she's from, or who might be looking for her. Without those answers, she'll see everyone here as a threat — including you."
Zian stepped closer, the lantern casting sharp light over his face. "You're saying if she doesn't remember… she won't trust me."
"I'm saying," Mr. Su said, voice cold, "if she doesn't remember, she will keep fighting you until the fear consumes her. And when that happens, you'll lose her. Not to death… but to madness."
For a long moment, neither man spoke. The silence was a taut wire ready to snap.
Zian's voice was low, almost a growl.
"There has to be a way to help her, Su."
Mr. Su's gaze was steady, unreadable in the dim light.
"There is one way," he said at last. "And I've already told you about it. Don't you remember?"
Zian frowned, his mind racing. Then it struck him, and his expression darkened.
"You mean…" his tone dropped, dangerous, "…to give her the identity of your friend's dead daughter."
Mr. Su inclined his head. "Yes. Right now, it's the only path that makes sense. If we give her that life, she'll have a place to belong, a name to hold onto. Without it…" He paused, letting the words sink in. "…she will remain lost. And lost people break, General. You saw it tonight."
Zian's fists clenched at his sides. He remembered her wild eyes, the way she trembled like a cornered animal, the way her voice cracked as she begged for answers no one could give her.
But the idea of handing her a false past… of forcing her into a family that wasn't hers…
It felt like betrayal.
His breath came slow, heavy. "A false name… a false family. Do you even understand what you're asking of me? I didn't drag her back from death just to chain her to a lie."
Mr. Su's voice hardened. "And if you do nothing, you'll chain her to madness. Is that what you want? To watch her shatter piece by piece?"
The words hit like a strike to the chest.
Zian turned away, staring at the flickering shadows on the tent wall, his jaw set in silence.
For the first time in years, the General—cold, unshakable, feared by all—looked uncertain.
"…a false life," he whispered to himself, almost bitterly. "But if it keeps her alive…"
The thought hung in the air, unfinished, the choice pressing down like a blade at his throat.