The clock read 10:03 PM when Li Zeyan's sleek black car pulled into the quiet courtyard of the Moon Pavilion. The evening air was still, as if the whole world held its breath in his presence.
He stepped out, his tailored coat crisp against the night breeze. The automatic lights flickered on as he walked toward the main entrance, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floor.
"Welcome home, Master," the butler greeted, bowing with practiced formality.
Li Zeyan gave a small nod, his face unreadable as always, but his feet paused just slightly,barely noticeable,before he spoke.
"Where's your Madam?"
He didn't know why he asked.
The words had slipped past his lips before he could stop them. Irritation prickled beneath his skin immediately. It wasn't like him to care. He never asked. He never needed to ask.
"She is in the master's bedroom, sir," the butler replied.
Li Zeyan gave no response. His face remained as cold and composed as a sculpture, but his strides were slower as he climbed the stairs,silent, deliberate, as if each step carried a question he couldn't name.
The door to the master bedroom creaked open with a soft push.
She was there.
Lying on the bed, Xu Meilin was fast asleep, curled on her side, her chest rising and falling with the calm rhythm of her breathing. A soft amber glow from the bedside lamp kissed her features, casting delicate shadows across her face.
His eyes narrowed.
She looked… peaceful. Innocent. Almost childlike.
Her small lips were parted slightly, her long lashes resting gently on her cheeks, and her eyebrows,slightly fuller than average,gave her a kind of quiet strength, even in sleep.
Li Zeyan didn't move.
He simply stood at the door, watching her. Observing. Studying.
Why hadn't he noticed the shape of her nose before? Or the slight curl at the ends of her hair? Why did her stillness disturb him more than her presence ever did?
He stepped closer, until he was just beside the bed. A strange urge twisted in his chest,foreign, unwanted.
His hand hovered in the air.
He could touch her. Just once. Her cheek looked soft. Her lips look soft.
But his fingers curled into a fist.
He pulled back, frowning. No,what the hell was he doing?
This wasn't him.
Li Zeyan turned abruptly, and the quiet bang of the bathroom door shattered the silence.
The water ran hot.
Too hot. It burned against his skin, but he didn't turn it down. He stood there under the spray, his hands braced against the marble wall, his head bowed.
He was angry. At himself. At her. At everything.
He didn't want to care. He couldn't care.
She was just a name on paper, a woman forced into his life by his grandmother's schemes. Nothing more. Nothing deeper. He had made peace with that fact from day one.
So why did he ask about her?
Why did her sleeping face linger in his mind, even now?
He shut off the water and dried himself quickly. Changed into sleepwear. The fabric felt unfamiliar, it had been a while since he'd used this room. Most nights he stayed in the guest suite or his private study. This room was too... intimate.
He came back to the bedroom. The light was dim, and the silence was thicker than before.
She hadn't moved.
Gingerly, Li Zeyan slid under the duvet, careful not to wake her. Her breathing remained even, unbothered by his presence. The faint scent of lavender drifted from her side of the bed. He stared at the ceiling, his jaw tight.
It was maddening, how comfortable she looked in a place he'd never let anyone near.
He turned on his side, his back to her.
He hated this. Hated the vulnerability in the silence. Hated the way his thoughts refused to quiet.
He checked his watch again.
1:43 AM.
Time dragged like chains.
He had never been good at sleeping. His insomnia had kept him company for years, like a shadow that refused to leave. But tonight, it wasn't restlessness that kept him awake. It was confusion.
What was it about her that was unsettling him? Was it the way she never asked for anything? The way she smiled quietly even when she was being ignored? Or was it that, somehow, she had slipped past the walls he'd built, without trying?
He scoffed at himself and muttered under his breath, "What the fuck is wrong with me?"
There was no answer. Only the steady hum of the air conditioner and the soft sound of Xu Meilin breathing beside him.
By 2:07 AM, he finally closed his eyes.
But even in sleep, his brow remained furrowed. And in the dim stillness of the room, where two people shared a bed like strangers beneath the same roof, something unspoken had begun to shift, silent and slow, like a crack forming in cold stone.