Yang Lixue sighed, resting her head against the cold, transparent glass of the bus window. Her reflection stared back at her—pale, tired, and framed by damp strands of flaming red hair that had escaped her bun.
Returning to Beijing after two years meant school, work, and avoiding her family for as long as she could. The stress she would have to put into achieving the last goal made dread weigh heavily on her chest.
She pulled her thin cardigan tighter around her shoulders, trying to fend off the chill seeping through the windowpane. It wasn't just the weather; it was the loneliness that had followed ever since she stepped into the country, chasing her like a shadow.
Yang Lixue had left this place behind two years ago, unable to bear the memories that lingered like a haunting melody. Her parents hadn't approved of her move to the city alone, but they didn't understand how suffocating it had been to stay.
New York had been home for two good years, and she loved it She worked part-time at a quaint bookstore owned by Mrs. Quincy, a kind woman who, along with her husband Mason, treated Yang Lixue like the daughter they never had. Their son, Dalton, was around Yang Lixue's age, though she rarely saw him due to his busy schedule, was very kind to her. The Quincys were the closest thing to family she had there, and their warmth was a welcome difference from the chaos of the unfamiliar city.
But now she was back to the cold loneliness in Beijing, back to the judging stares from people who couldn't believe the powerful Ceo of Yang corporation had a mute daughter, back to the exhaustion that comes with trying to fit in, so her parents wouldn't lose face.
Even the thoughts alone filled her with misery.
Yang Lixue reached into her small crossbody bag and pulled out a pale blue card she had designed for an upcoming book display. She ran her fingertips over the smooth surface, admiring the neat black font. The color made her smile—it was her favorite, a small comfort she clung to.
The faint hum of the bus engine filled the silence around her, but Yang Lixue didn't hear it. Her hearing aids were tucked safely in her bag, and without them, the world was a muffled blur. She glanced at the front of the bus, where a television screen displayed some sort of warning. The announcer's lips moved quickly, his expression urgent, but Yang Lixue's gaze drifted back to the card in her hands oblivious to what was going on around her.
Her phone buzzed. She fumbled with it, her pale, slender fingers trembling slightly from the cold.
It showed a message from Xu-Lian asking where Yang Lixue was. Xu-Lian was her only close friend in the city. Yang Lixue had met her during university registration, the lovely girl had helped Yang Lixue throughout that day without leaving her side, she was like a guardian angel. Xu Lian had a vibrant personality that Yang Lixue's quiet demeanor found oddly soothing. She sent a quick text asking Xu Lian to meet her at the bus stop, though the message failed to deliver.
The bus screeched to a halt, and passengers scrambled to exit. Yng Lixue's brow furrowed at their urgency, anxiety curling in her stomach like a coiled spring. She clutched her bag tightly and stepped out onto the wet pavement, her boots splashing in shallow puddles. The air was heavy, thick with an impending storm.
She sat on a cold, metal bench beneath the shelter of the bus station, tucking her damp hair behind her ear. Her hearing aids were now in, but the distorted sounds of frantic voices and distant sirens only heightened her unease. She couldn't make sense of the noise.
A sudden gust of wind sent leaves spiraling through the air. Yang Lixue's chest tightened with unease as she wrung her hands together, her knuckles white against her pale skin. She watched helplessly as people hurried past her, their mouths moving in urgent warnings she couldn't quite catch. She didn't want to ask anyone what was happening. The thought of their confused or dismissive reactions when she tried to converse without speaking made her stomach churn with anxiety.
The wind picked up, howling through the station. Rain began to fall, heavy and relentless, drumming against the roof above her. Yang Lixue hunched over, hugging her bag to her chest as her breathing grew shallow. The sound of the heavy storm mixed with the distorted noise in her hearing aids, creating a noise that made her head throb.
The whole bus station was quiet now, with not one person in sight.
Lightning illuminated the sky, casting eerie shadows across the pavement. Yang Lixue's wide, blue eyes darted to a tree swaying dangerously in the wind. A deafening crack echoed in the distance—a sound she felt more than heard—and the tree splintered, its massive trunk crashing through a nearby glass window.
Her heart raced as she sank to the ground, her knees pressed to her chest. The cold, wet concrete seeped through her jeans, but she didn't notice. She tried to steady her breathing, counting under her breath like she always did during her panic attacks. One… two… three… Her voice shook, barely audible.
Tears blurred her vision as the world around her spiraled out of control. The rain soaked through her cardigan, chilling her to the bone. She squeezed her eyes shut, gripping the bench's edge until her fingers ached.
A sudden flash of headlights made her freeze. Yang Lixue opened her eyes just in time to see a bus skidding toward the station. Its tires struggled to grip the slick pavement, the vehicle lurching wildly out of control. The driver was honking, but the sound barely registered in her ears.
Her breath hitched as the bus barreled closer to where she knelt, its headlights glaring like twin suns. Her mind went blank, and all she could do was stare, paralyzed by fear. The world seemed to slow down, every detail sharp and vivid—the rain cascading off the bus's windshield, the distorted reflection of the station in its side mirrors, but there were no passengers in the bus, it was just the driver who was inside.
The storm raged on, violent sounds of wind and rain thrashing against the earth. The streets lay abandoned, darkened by clouds that churned with restless fury.
But she couldn't hear a single sound.
___________________________________________
On a tall city building, a man could be seen standing at the edge watching the chaotic weather unfold. He was cloaked in indifference as his green eyes, cold and lifeless, scanned the cityscape as humans scattered like leaves trying to find shelter from the dangerous storm, their fear was noticeable even from a distance.
But Azrael couldn't be bothered.
He exhaled slowly, a mist of breath dissolving into the humid air. He was unaffected by the storm, his presence commanded it, bending it to his will.
The typhoon wasn't an accident; it was his creation—a powerful reminder of his superiority over the forces of nature.
He had ensured that the heavy storm had shown signs of occurring since the day started, and as he wanted, humans had been warned to seek shelter today, news all over the city showed the weather forecast and people had been advised to stay home for their safety.
Most people had listened, including the fated couple who had conjured up the disaster to bring them together, they were currently at the boy's place like Tang Chen had predicted. But Azrael's sharp gaze caught movement in the distance—a stubborn thread in the tapestry of fate. Some people just didn't listen to warnings did they?
"Foolish humans," he muttered, his voice a deep, quiet rumble that disappeared into the storm. He wasn't cruel, — his attitude was merely detached
A bus veered dangerously on the slick road, its driver desperately fighting the wheel. The frantic blare of the horn pierced the chaos, the sound sharp and grating, but Azrael barely flinched. He wasn't moved by emotions; it wasn't his role to interfere with lives destined for death. He stepped forward, intent on leaving the scene, when something — or rather someone caught his attention.
A small figure huddled at the bus station.
She was drenched, her red hair plastered to her pale face, clinging to her as the rain swallowed her whole. Her slight frame trembled, her thin fingers gripping the cold, wet metal of the bench as though it were the only thing tethering her to safety. Her wide blue eyes stared at the oncoming bus with a frozen terror that made Azrael pause.
The world seemed to tilt.
He didn't move immediately, his mind wrestling with the strange pull that rooted him to the spot. She was insignificant in every measurable way—fragile and human. And yet, his chest tightened at the sight of her.
Her lips moved silently, trembling as she counted to herself in a rhythm that faltered with each clap of thunder. She didn't cry out, didn't scream for help. No sound escaped her lips, yet her eyes were loud, filled with a storm of their own.
Azrael's green eyes narrowed, and he snapped his fingers.
Time stopped.
Rain hung suspended in the air like shimmering beads of glass. The bus froze mid-skid, its headlights casting long, frozen beams through the darkness. Even the wind ceased its howl, leaving behind an eerie, unnatural silence.
He crossed the distance between them in measured steps, his boots leaving faint ripples in the puddles beneath him. Though the rain should have drenched his body, it fell softly around him instead, as if nature itself bent to his presence. He knelt before her frozen form, his expression unchanging.
Up close, she was even smaller, her frame almost swallowed by the damp, oversized sweater clinging to her body. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, her knuckles white where they gripped the bench. Her earrings caught his eye—no, they were fragile hearing aids nestled against her ears.
She couldn't hear the storm, he realized. She couldn't hear the danger hurling toward her.
Azrael Li tilted his head, studying her like one might study an unfamiliar artifact. There was something delicate, and unbearably soft, about her. It stirred something buried deep within him, something he didn't yet understand.
He lifted a hand, his fingers brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. The gesture was instinctive, his palm lingering near her cheek. As his skin made contact, the mark on his middle finger flared to life, glowing with a faint red light that illuminated the space between them. Sparks ran through his veins lighting his blood on fire.
Azrael Li felt his heart lurch, a sensation so foreign it almost startled him.
"Meaum miracullum," he whispered, his deep voice cutting through the silence.
The words were meant for himself, a declaration of something he hadn't yet. She was his miracle.
Azrael Li swallowed hard, his gaze softening as he took her in fully. The red light from his mark faded as he gently cradled her face in his palms. She was cold to the touch, her skin pale and damp, but there was a warmth in her presence that seeped into him, thawing the ice he had long grown accustomed to.
Behind him, the bus still loomed, frozen mid-motion. He turned his head slightly, his expression hardening once more. A flick of his wrist sent the vehicle veering away, and the bus slid into a ditch.
And in that moment the world unseizes from his hold, he immediately pulls the tiny girl to safety, wrapping her in his arms.
He didn't bother about anything else, his focus was entirely on the girl before him.
Yang Lixue looked up at the feeling of being held in someone's arms, her eyes widened as she noticed the tall man in front of her his face devoid of emotion yet striking.
The storm began to ease, and the rain softened into a gentle drizzle as the winds calmed.
Her wide dewy blue eyes stared up startled and confused, why was she wrapped in an unknown man's arms?