Jiang Xie wasn't stupid.
He knew himself well enough to recognize when something had changed.
Before, he had never paid much attention to the people in his base. They were useful, or they weren't. Survivors came and went—some strong, some weak, all replaceable.
But Yu Zhi?
The boy had been in his life for two days, and Jiang Xie was already losing his damn mind.
It wasn't just the food, though that was part of it.
It was the way Yu Zhi belonged in his space—like he had always been meant to be there. The way he moved so softly, barely making a sound, yet somehow filled every quiet moment. The way he looked at Jiang Xie, with hesitant trust, as if waiting for him to push him away.
Like he was used to being abandoned.
Jiang Xie didn't like that look.
He liked it even less when others tried to look at Yu Zhi at all.
Which was why, when one of the base's scavengers dared to reach for the boy that afternoon, Jiang Xie nearly broke the bastard's arm.
The base was in a state of controlled chaos. Jiang Xie had sent a scouting team out for supplies, and they had returned bloodied and exhausted, their cargo dangerously low.
Tensions were high. Hunger made people reckless.
Yu Zhi had been trailing behind Jiang Xie, his small frame hidden beneath an oversized jacket Jiang Xie had thrown over his shoulders that morning. It swallowed him up, the sleeves hanging past his fingertips. The sight had been unfairly cute—so much so that Jiang Xie had to physically restrain himself from touching the boy's face.
But apparently, he wasn't the only one who noticed.
A low-ranked scavenger—Liang Kai, a wiry man with too-sharp eyes—sidled closer, his gaze flicking toward Yu Zhi like a hungry dog eyeing a fresh meal.
"You're new," Liang Kai said, voice slick with fake friendliness. "Boss picked you up, huh? Lucky thing. If you ever wanna—"
He reached for Yu Zhi.
It was a mistake.
A very big mistake.
Before the man's fingers could so much as brush Yu Zhi's sleeve, Jiang Xie moved.
A sharp crack echoed through the base as Jiang Xie slammed Liang Kai against the nearest wall, his forearm pressing against the man's throat.
The crowd stilled. Conversations died.
Liang Kai choked, his eyes going wide with pure, animalistic fear.
"Touch what's mine," Jiang Xie murmured, voice deathly soft, "and I'll break your hands."
The silence was suffocating.
Yu Zhi let out a tiny gasp behind him. But he didn't move away. Didn't flinch.
Jiang Xie pressed harder. "Understand?"
Liang Kai gave a frantic nod, his face turning red from lack of air.
Jiang Xie released him with a shove, watching as the man scrambled away like a rat escaping a trap.
The onlookers whispered among themselves, but no one dared to interfere. Everyone knew Jiang Xie didn't make empty threats.
Jiang Xie exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders before turning to Yu Zhi.
The boy was clutching the edges of the oversized jacket, his fingers twisted in the fabric. His lips parted slightly, his green eyes searching Jiang Xie's face—not with fear, but something else. Something Jiang Xie couldn't quite name.
Jiang Xie scowled. "What?"
Yu Zhi hesitated. Then, in a quiet voice, he said, "…You called me yours."
Jiang Xie froze.
Tch.
This little thing… was too damn sharp.
"…So what if I did?" Jiang Xie grumbled, crossing his arms. "You got a problem with that?"
Yu Zhi blinked up at him. His fingers tightened around the fabric of the jacket.
Then, to Jiang Xie's absolute disbelief, the boy smiled.
It wasn't big. Not bright. But it was real—a tiny, hidden thing, like a secret between them.
Jiang Xie felt it like a punch to the chest.
"…No problem," Yu Zhi murmured.
Jiang Xie looked away, clenching his jaw. Damn it.
This boy was going to ruin him.
And he was going to let it happen.