The Spring Festival had ended hours ago, yet it lingered in Chen Lihuan's mind like the faint echo of a melody—quiet, persistent, impossible to shake.
It wasn't the fair itself that haunted him.
It was Li Wei.
The way he had moved through the crowd—calm, warm, utterly present—didn't fit inside the tidy, controlled boxes Chen Lihuan kept for people. An Omega who could soften a child's cries with a single look… yet meet Chen's own gaze without the slightest flicker of fear.
The contradiction gnawed at him.
And he wasn't the only one who felt the shift.
Li Wei had noticed the change in Chen's eyes. It was no longer just possession—it was curiosity. And curiosity was dangerous. Questions could dig too deep.
So Li Wei did what he had always done when the air grew too close: he retreated. He sank into the familiar comfort of silence and routine, into the safe rhythm of grading papers, brewing tea, and passing evenings alone in his faculty suite.
Until the knock came.
When he opened the door, Lin Min stood there—Chen Lihuan's young Beta assistant, clutching a heavy briefcase as though it might explode in her hands. Her usual neutral scent was sharp now, sliced through with fear.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Li," she whispered. "I was told to deliver a file to Mr. Chen, but I can't get past the encryption. If I fail again, the system will lock. He… doesn't take mistakes well."
The name stirred an old memory in Li Wei—one from his first life. Lin Min had always been polite, diligent, a little nervous. And like him, she had eventually been cast aside without ceremony for the crime of being only human.
"Come in," Li Wei said softly.
She hesitated, then stepped inside. The door closed behind her with a sound that was gentle… but final.
"Breathe," Li Wei murmured. "You're safe here."
No questions. No scolding. No disapproval. He simply took the laptop from her, his fingers already moving over the keys.
He remembered this system—remembered hours spent unraveling Chen Lihuan's encryption schemes, back when he still believed that understanding the Alpha's work might help him understand the man.
It hadn't. But the knowledge was still his.
"There." He handed the device back to her. "It's done."
Her relief was almost visible. "If I had failed again… he—" She stopped, blinking hard. "Thank you."
Li Wei's scent softened, warm and grounding, wrapping her in something her world rarely gave her—safety. "You're doing fine. He just expects too much, too fast. That's on him, not you."
What neither of them knew was that somewhere else in the building, Chen Lihuan was watching.
He had only wanted to know where Li Wei was, so he pulled up the nearest corridor camera feed. But instead of a location, he found… this.
He watched Lin Min falter.
He watched Li Wei rise—effortless, calm, human.
He saw not only skill, but grace. Not only solutions, but a quiet strength that demanded nothing and still changed everything. The way Li Wei steadied the girl with a hand on her arm, the way his scent carried reassurance instead of control—it slid under Chen Lihuan's skin in a way he didn't like to name.
Shame.
He had mistaken Li Wei's silence for obedience. His empathy for fragility. His survival for submission.
But Li Wei was not weak. He was the strongest person in the room—strong enough to give away the safety he'd never been given.
Chen's fingers tightened around the tablet.
He had given Li Wei a roof, money, a contract. But never warmth. Never safety. And now, watching the Omega become a shelter for someone else, Chen Lihuan realized the truth.
Li Wei didn't need him to save him.
He needed someone to see him.
And for the first time in years, Chen Lihuan wondered if he was even worthy of that light.