Jin Shuren remained standing, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze distant yet focused. Every decision he made was deliberate, precise, a meticulous design to protect the fragile world Yueyao inhabited, and to give her the peace he knew she deserved, even if the rest of the world remained cruel and unpredictable.
Jin Zhou moved quickly, barking quiet instructions to the maids and staff as they descended into the underground storerooms.
One by one, delicate boxes were carried up the stairs, each labeled with care: dresses, toys, mementos, and the single portraits Jin Shuren had privately collected over the years.
Every item was chosen not only for its beauty but for the memory it might evoke in Yueyao, a gentle nudge toward familiarity without forcing recognition.
