Zhou Wei woke up before dawn.
Not due to noise, but because of a change.
The room felt different. He sat up slowly, his muscles stiff, his senses already on alert. The warmth inside him was quiet, coiled tightly, waiting. It had been that way for hours. Alert. Patient.
Mei Lin was awake.
She sat on the floor where she had fallen asleep, her knees pulled close, arms wrapped around herself. Her hair had come loose during the night, dark strands sticking to her cheek. She stared at the wall, her eyes unfocused, breathing slow but uneven.
She had not cried.
That worried him more than tears would have.
"You didn't sleep," Zhou Wei said quietly.
Mei Lin blinked and then turned her head. "I did. A little."
It wasn't a lie, just incomplete.
Zhou Wei shifted, standing carefully so the floor wouldn't creak. He kept his distance. The door was still unbarred. He made sure she noticed that.
"You can still leave," he said.
Her gaze flicked to the door and then back to him. "You keep saying that."
"Because it has to stay true."
She looked away again. "If I leave now, he will come for me tonight, tomorrow, or the day after. He will be polite. He will smile. Everyone will tell me to be grateful."
Her fingers dug into her sleeves. "If I stay, at least I know what I am choosing."
Zhou Wei listened, did not interrupt, and did not fill the silence.
After a moment, she laughed softly. The sound surprised them both.
"I used to think choice was loud," she said. "That it would feel brave or right. This just feels small. Quiet."
"Most real ones are," Zhou Wei replied.
She stood slowly, her joints stiff, and smoothed her robe with shaking hands. When she stepped closer, she stopped well short of him.
"I don't want to be saved," she said. "And I don't want to be taken."
The warmth inside Zhou Wei stirred at the clarity in her voice. He forced himself to stay still.
"Then say what you do want," he said.
Mei Lin closed her eyes.
"I want this to be mine," she said. "Whatever happens next. I want to decide it."
She opened her eyes again and met his gaze fully.
"Not because I'm afraid," she continued. "I am afraid. But not because of that."
Zhou Wei felt the shift. Subtle but definite.
The pressure that had clung to her emotions since the first night loosened. Fear did not vanish, but it moved aside. Something else stepped forward.
Intent.
"You understand," Zhou Wei said slowly, "that once you cross this line, it cannot be undone."
She nodded. "I know."
"And that what you give up," he continued, "will not come back to you."
"I am not pure now," she said quietly. "I am only untouched."
The words landed heavier than he expected.
Zhou Wei exhaled.
"Then listen to me carefully," he said. "If you step closer because you think this will protect you, stop. If you step closer because you think it will fix everything, stop. If you want this because you want me or because you want to feel something that belongs to you, then take one more step."
Mei Lin did not move immediately.
The room was very still. Dawn light crept through the narrow window, pale and thin, hitting the floor between them.
Then she stepped forward.
Not quickly. Not hesitantly either. One measured step.
The warmth inside Zhou Wei surged, heavy and hot, pressing against his restraint. He held it in place, teeth clenched, breath controlled.
"Is this still my choice?" she asked.
"Yes," he said. "It has to be."
She took another step.
Now she was close enough for him to smell her soap, faint and clean, layered over the night. Close enough to feel the heat of her skin.
She held back.
"I'm not asking you to take me," she said. "I'm asking you not to stop me."
Zhou Wei closed his eyes for a brief moment.
When he opened them again, his voice was steady.
"Then don't stop," he said.
She reached out.
Her hand hovered between them, fingers trembling, then settled against his chest. Light pressure. Testing. Claiming nothing.
The warmth inside him responded instantly.
Not violently. Not chaotically.
It flowed.
Zhou Wei sucked in a breath as sensation flooded his awareness. Not pleasure yet. Recognition. A sense of something coming together because a choice had finally been made without coercion.
Mei Lin's breath hitched.
"I feel it," she whispered.
"So do I," he replied.
He lifted his hand slowly and deliberately, giving her every chance to pull back.
She did not.
Her fingers tightened against his robe.
"That's enough," Zhou Wei said softly. "This is the last moment you can change your mind."
Mei Lin looked up at him, her eyes clear in the thin morning light.
"I won't," she said.
The warmth inside Zhou Wei spread outward, deep and hungry, no longer restrained.
Not because he took.
Because she chose.
And the path answered.