Back to present time
She walked past me in the restaurant lobby, surrounded by the others—laughing, graceful as ever. But then I saw it.
Her ankle. Swollen. Slightly red. Barely noticeable to anyone else.
But not to me.
My chest clenched. A sharp, silent fury surged through me—not at her, but at the fact that pain dared to touch her.
How dare it.
I moved before I could think, the world narrowing to a single point—her.
"Lusi," I said, my voice low and sharp as I knelt in front of her.
She blinked down at me, confused—until I gently took her foot and removed her heel.
Her breath hitched.
"Your leg," I murmured, the words coiled tight in my throat. "It's swollen."
Without waiting for permission, I stood up and swept her into my arms.
"What are you—Xuanyin—put me down!" she protested, her voice rising with that familiar, maddening defiance.
But I didn't budge.
Her fists hit my chest, light as feathers. She wriggled, more annoyed than afraid, and that made me grip her tighter.
"No," I said simply.
"I can walk—"
"I don't care."
She stilled.
"I hate it," I whispered. "I hate seeing even a scratch on you, Lusi. Let alone something like this."
I hate it so much, I feel like I'm unraveling inside.
She went quiet in my arms, lips parted as if unsure whether to fight or fall silent.
I carried her through the hallway, ignoring the stares, the murmurs from the others—none of it mattered. Only her.
I pushed open the door to the private room where we were meant to dine and gently lowered her onto the plush seat.
She wouldn't look at me. Her fingers clenched the fabric of her dress.
But I saw it—the tiniest tremble at the corner of her lips. Not fear. Not anger.
Something else. Something she hadn't figured out how to name yet.
And gods help me,
if the universe won't let her fall for me—
then I'll make it kneel until she does.
What the hell just happened?
One second I was walking—fine, maybe limping slightly, but it wasn't that bad—and the next, Li Xuanyin was kneeling in front of me like the world had tilted sideways.
His hand touched my ankle and I swear, my breath caught.
Not from pain.
From him.
He didn't ask. He didn't hesitate. He just acted—like it was the most natural thing in the world to take off my heel, lift her into his arms, and command gravity itself to bend around his will.
She should've yelled louder. She should've hit him harder.
But her voice got stuck in her throat the second he said, "I don't care."
That tone. That look in his eyes.
Like her pain was a personal insult to him. Like he would burn the whole world to keep her from feeling it again.
And the worst part?
She didn't hate it.
She hated that she didn't hate it.
She hated the way her chest fluttered when he said he couldn't stand seeing her hurt.
She hated how safe she felt in his arms. How infuriatingly warm his body was against hers. How everyone stared and she still didn't tell him to stop.
Because in that moment… she didn't feel like a princess, or a pawn, or the girl carrying a prophecy she never asked for.
She felt like his.
And that scared the hell out of me.
Because Li Xuanyin is dangerous.
Not the blade-to-your-throat kind. No—
He's the kind that carves himself into your soul when you're not looking.
The kind you fall for slowly... and realize too late that he's already taken root.
So she sit here now, ankle throbbing, pride dented—heart racing.
And she tell herself it meant nothing.
Even as she feel the ghost of his arms around her
and wonder what the hell is happening to her.
In the dimly lit private room of Restaurant, the air was filled with the soft clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversation.Yue ChuChu, Fang Si Chang,Mira Mu, and Yue Lusi were immersed in their meal, the warmth of friendship enveloping them.
The private room was dimly lit—golden lanterns casting soft shadows across the table as dishes were placed before them like offerings they had no appetite for.
Lusi's pov:
I sat across from him.
Li Xuanyin.
He hadn't said a word since setting me down. He didn't have to.
His silence roared louder than thunder.
He sat with one elbow on the armrest, fingers lightly touching his lower lip, gaze fixed somewhere just beyond me—but not really.
I could feel it.
He was watching me. Always.
I didn't look at him. Not directly. But I felt him like a second heartbeat.
My ankle pulsed beneath the table, wrapped in silk and his concern. I hadn't thanked him. I wouldn't.
Because if I did, it would mean acknowledging how he made me feel.
And that was far more dangerous than the swelling.
The others chatted, laughed. The world moved.
But between us?
Stillness.
Like the air knew it wasn't allowed to breathe too loudly.
I reached for my glass of water, fingers brushing the rim—and his hand was already there, gently sliding it closer to me before I could lift it.
No words. No glance. Just... that.
My throat dried faster than the water could fix.
Why does he do that?
Why does he treat my pain like it's his own?
I dared a glance at him then.
He wasn't looking at me.
But his jaw was clenched. That faint, constant tension—like he was keeping something monstrous caged behind his ribs.
He feels too much. That's the problem.
And worse—so do I.
The room buzzed with light laughter and clinking chopsticks. But for me, it all dissolved into static.
Because across the table sat a man I couldn't read, couldn't predict—
and somehow, the only one who could touch my soul without ever touching my skin.
Li Xuanyin's pov:
Her Yue ChuChu leaned in with a teasing smile. "If you could order anything, what's your favorite food?"
I should've said something simple. Something forgettable. I don't have favorites—never needed to. Food is just sustenance.
But my eyes were already on her.
Yue Lusi.
She was laughing at something, her voice like the hush of wind through silk. The room faded. The question hung in the air, waiting, but my answer had already changed.
I turned to her, not her friend.
"What's your favorite food, Lusi?"
The words escaped before I realized they were mine.
She blinked, startled—then met my gaze. "Oriental fried rice," she said, and her eyes… gods, her eyes.
Dark, luminous, eternal. The kind of eyes you don't just fall for—you burn in them. You drown, willingly.
I turned back to her friend, the answer already on my lips. "Oriental fried rice."
She laughed. "That's your favorite?"
I didn't flinch.
"It is now."
Because I never had a favorite food. Never had time for indulgence, for softness.
But Lusi—
She's the exception to every rule I built to survive.
Everything she loves, I begin to crave.
If she said the stars tasted like sugar, I'd reach into the heavens just to taste them for her.
Because it's not about fried rice.
It's her. Always her.
My favorite food?
It's whatever Yue Lusi is eating.
My favorite color?
Whatever shade her lips are when she smiles.
My favorite sound?
The way she says my name—when she does at all.
She doesn't know it yet, but this—
This is how I love her. Quiet. Undeniable.
Obsessive in the way a shadow belongs to its flame.