The office had emptied, leaving Xinyi alone at her desk. The night's festival still lingered in her senses—the laughter, the music, the sparkling lights, and the wine that had left her cheeks tinged with warmth. Yet beneath the thrill, there was a weight she could not shake: whispers, glances, subtle gossip at the festival. Nothing tangible, nothing concrete—but enough to make her heart race with both pride and fear.
A soft knock broke her reverie.
"Xinyi?" Zhiyuan's voice was low, familiar, carrying that edge of concern she had learned to read like a second language. She turned to see him leaning against the doorway, his posture casual but his eyes sharp, attentive.
"I… I'm fine," she said quickly, trying to mask the tremor in her voice.
He crossed the room with measured steps, eyes gentle but focused, and crouched slightly so he was level with her. "You don't look fine," he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I can see it—the way you tense up when someone passes, the way you bite your lip when whispers reach you. Xinyi… you're holding everything inside again."
Her throat tightened. She wanted to deflect, to pretend she was strong, in control, professional. But the walls she had built around her feelings crumbled in his gaze. Her hands fidgeted with her sleeves. She had never felt the urge to confess so strongly before,
"I…" she began, voice barely more than a whisper. "It's just… this hiding, Zhiyuan. It's exhausting. I want… I want to sit next to you, hold your hand, laugh without checking over my shoulder. I want to be with you without the world watching, without the rules pressing in on us at every turn. Sometimes… it feels like no matter what we do, someone is always watching, judging, analyzing, whispering."
Her voice cracked on the last words, and she finally let herself lean into the space between them. Her chest rose and fell with unspoken emotion, a mix of longing, fear, and relief. Her hands curled into fists at her sides. "And I'm tired. Tired of pretending. Tired of hiding how much you mean to me. Sometimes I feel like the world is bigger than us, like we're trapped in this… this cage of rules and expectations."
Zhiyuan didn't speak immediately. He just reached out and took her hands in his, warm, steady, grounding. "Xinyi," he murmured, "look at me."
She lifted her gaze, and he held her eyes, unwavering. "I know exactly how you feel. I feel it too. Every whisper, every glance… it gnaws at me as much as it does you. But you are not alone in this. Never. Whatever the rules, whatever the scrutiny, whatever the whispers—my heart is yours. Always."
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "I just… sometimes I feel like I'm not strong enough. I'm scared, Zhiyuan. Scared that we'll get caught, that someone will judge us… that the wrong person will misunderstand. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to ruin what we have…"
He stood then, careful and slow, and pulled her into his arms. She froze for a heartbeat, surprised at the strength and warmth of him. Then she melted into him, burying her face against his chest as a sob escaped her lips.
"Shh," he whispered, arms tightening around her, holding her as though nothing in the world could take her away. "You're safe. I'm right here. You never have to be afraid when you're with me."
Her hands gripped his shirt, trembling. "It's just… so hard, Zhiyuan. We're married… we should be able to be open, to laugh together, to live without constantly watching, but… the rules, the company, the gossip… it suffocates me."
He tilted her chin gently, forcing her to look at him. His gaze was soft, unwavering, filled with quiet strength. "We're allowed to love, Xinyi. We're allowed to exist together. And yes, we have to be cautious in some ways, but that doesn't make what we have any less real. Don't ever think your fears make you weak. It takes courage to feel so deeply and to care so much."
Her chest rose and fell against his, tears slipping freely now. "I just… I just want to be with you without fear, Zhiyuan. I want to… I want to feel safe in your arms and know that no matter what, we have each other."
"You do," he whispered. "And you always will. Lean on me. Let me be your strength. When the world feels heavy, I'll carry it with you."
She rested her forehead against his, breathing in the calm, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The silence of the office became a cocoon around them, the distant hum of the city fading beneath the warmth of their closeness. For the first time in days, she let herself fully exhale, surrendering the tension she had been holding.
"I love you," she murmured, voice thick with emotion.
Zhiyuan brushed her hair back, lips brushing against her temple in a tender, intimate gesture. "I love you more than the world, Xinyi. And I'll never stop reminding you of that."
He led her to the balcony, the moonlight spilling over the office terrace, bathing them in silver. The city stretched below them, distant and unimportant. Only this moment, only the quiet, only the shared breaths and soft murmurs, mattered.
"I can face everything," she whispered. "As long as I'm with you."
"And you never will have to face it alone," he said. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, holding her as if nothing else existed. "We'll get through this, together. Every rule, every whisper, every gaze—they're nothing compared to us."
The night stretched on, quiet, gentle, and infinite. Under the soft glow of the moonlight, Xinyi finally let go—of fear, of worry, of frustration—and allowed herself to rest completely in his embrace. And he held her just as tightly, silently promising that no matter the challenges, they would face the world side by side.