In the southern part of the city, rain hammered against the windows of the apartment. Adrian Jiang stood silently, eyes fixed on the winding streams forming outside, thunder rumbling like war drums overhead.
After what felt like an eternity, he lowered his gaze and opened his contacts list.
His thumb hovered over a number—one he'd glanced at countless times in recent days but never had the courage to call.
Tonight, he did.
The dial tone buzzed steadily in his ear.
Adrian's eyes remained cast downward, unreadable, save for the hand clenched tightly at his side.
The sound of thunder outside mingled with the mechanical ringing, stretching every second unbearably long.
His lips pressed into a fine line. Fingers whitened as his grip on the phone tightened.
Just as the call was about to go to voicemail, someone picked it up.
He didn't register the flutter in his chest at the sound of the line connecting, nor did he acknowledge the quiet sigh of relief that escaped him.
Staring into the veil of rain beyond the glass, he spoke softly, like he used to:
"Elena, where are you?"
A brief pause answered him.
But it wasn't Elena Shen's voice that followed.
"It's me, Adrian."
The voice belonged to Ethan Jiang.
Adrian's brows furrowed. He instinctively glanced at the pitch-black sky outside.
"Ethan? Are you with Elena?"
He was about to ask why his older brother was with her this late at night. Just yesterday, he'd spoken with Zhou Lin, who mentioned E.R. headquarters was finalizing an important contract and Ethan would be away on a business trip.
But before the question could be voiced, Ethan's calm, low voice interrupted, "Elena's drunk, Adrian. Did you need something?"
Adrian swallowed the words in his tongue and replied, "Nothing urgent. I just remembered she's afraid of thunder. Since you're with her, thank you for taking care of her."
"Adrian."
Ethan's tone turned firm, cutting him off.
"You chose not to accept the engagement. Then stay in the place that choice left you."
Adrian's words faltered.
He understood what Ethan meant.
He had refused the arrangement between their families. By doing so, he had forfeited the right to stand beside her as a fiancé.
Thunder crashed through the sky, lightning illuminating the storm-tossed night.
Staring into the chaotic downpour, Adrian's mind wandered back to years ago—the first stormy night Elena had spent in the Jiang household.
She'd been newly adopted, and the violent thunderstorm that night mirrored this one exactly.
The house was nearly empty—his parents were away handling a crisis at a branch office, and only Elena was left behind.
She had always feared thunder.
Because the night she lost her parents had sounded just like this.
Only ten years old, she had stumbled out of her room, sobbing and trembling, curling up alone on the living room sofa.
It was late, and the house staff had all returned to their quarters. The main residence was dark and silent.
Elena had sat there, curled into herself, drifting between sleep and terror.
Later that night, Ethan went home and found her there.
He had gently covered her with a blanket and sat beside her until the storm passed, never once leaving her side.
Adrian had been a teenager then, rebelling and restless. He'd spent the night playing games with friends while their parents were away. Returning at dawn, he stepped into the living room just in time to see his brother still sitting beside the sleeping girl.
Ethan hadn't questioned where he'd been.
He simply glanced at his watch, stood up, and said, "Stay with her. I have a meeting to get to."
Adrian had obeyed, sitting where his brother had just been.
Not long after, Elena awoke.
She'd believed it was Adrian who had stayed with her all night.
Without hesitation, she'd flung herself into his arms, tearfully thanking him.
Adrian felt… conflicted.
So much so that even now, he couldn't put it into words.
But from that moment on, Elena's reliance on him grew stronger—clear as day.
He knew why.
She had mistaken him for the person who'd held her through the storm.
Yushan Residence – Master Bedroom
Ethan Jiang ended the call, placing Elena's phone aside. The drunken girl clung to him, body slack with intoxication.
He gently pressed his warm palm against the back of her neck, trying to coax her away.
But the moment he moved, she instinctively tightened her grip on his wrist.
She wasn't sober enough to conceal her emotions.
Nor did she have the clarity to calculate consequences or draw boundaries. Under the influence of alcohol, and amidst the rolling thunder, she held onto him desperately—her tear-filled eyes looking up at him in silent plea.
"I'm scared…"
Ethan sighed, quietly and resigned.
At that instant, it felt like years ago again—when he'd kept vigil beside her in the old family estate during a night just like this.
"Elena, you're drunk. "If you don't drink some sobering soup, you'll have a terrible headache in the morning," he reasoned with her.
But drunk minds don't listen to reason.
And Elena, in her current state, was overwhelmed by the fear brought by each successive thunderclap. The memory buried deep within her—the bloodstained night when the rain never stopped—surfaced uninvited.
She couldn't fight it.
All she could do was hold onto the only person within reach, afraid he might leave her behind in this storm.
"I don't want it…" she shook her head, refusing everything—except for him. "I don't want to be alone…"
Ethan studied her for a long time.
His fingertips brushed the damp corners of her eyes.
Finally, he lifted her into his arms, just like earlier when he carried her in from the storm, and descended the stairs.
Ethan had always preferred privacy. At Yushan Residence, only one butler and two chefs remained on staff.
But since he'd been away on a trip these past two days, he'd given them time off.
Which meant tonight, he had to cook the soup himself.
Once downstairs, he laid Elena carefully on the nearest couch and fetched a blanket to keep her warm.
He ruffled her hair gently, coaxing her as one might a frightened child.
"Just wait here, alright? I'll make the soup. I won't be long."
Elena clutched the surrounding blanket tightly. It took her a long moment to let go of his sleeve.
Soon, Ethan returned with the sobering soup.
He coaxed her to drink, and even managed to feed her a bit of porridge before carrying her back upstairs.
—
In the third-floor master bedroom, Ethan stood beside the bed.
On the dark sheets, Elena lay curled, brows drawn together as another thunderclap split the sky.
His gaze dropped to the slender fingers clutching the hem of his shirt.
Then back to her half-lidded eyes, wet and pleading.
"Sleep on your own, okay?"
He gently grasped her wrist, trying to ease her grip.
But just then, thunder cracked again—so loud it shook the windows.
Elena's lashes fluttered violently.
She seized his hand tighter, her fingers pale from tension.
"No! I'm scared…"
The memory of him pushing her away moments ago still lingered.
And now, desperate not to be left alone, she followed a primal, trembling instinct—pulling herself up and into his arms again.
"I'm afraid of the thunder… don't leave me…"
She was shaking.
At that moment, under the haze of alcohol and fear, she forgot who he was.
Forgot how she usually tried so hard to avoid him.
To her, he was simply the one person she could hold onto.
Her only lifeline in a storm that refused to end.