Xiaoyu realized she was late the moment the departure board flipped to Final Call.
Her stomach dropped.
"No—no, no, no," she muttered, breaking into a run as soon as she cleared the sliding doors of the airport. Her heels clicked sharply against the polished floor, echoing far too loudly for someone who was already attracting attention. Her bag bounced against her side, hair slipping loose from its careful tie.
She never ran.
She especially never ran in public places where people could stare.
But today, dignity had lost to panic.
She weaved past travelers, murmuring breathless apologies, eyes scanning frantically for a familiar tall figure, a composed silhouette, anything that resembled Liang Wei.
Her phone vibrated in her hand.
Liang Wei: Where are you?
She didn't slow down as she typed back.
Xiaoyu: Running. Literally.
She rounded the corner toward the VIP waiting area—and nearly collided with a luggage cart.
"Sorry!" she gasped, stumbling—
Strong hands caught her shoulders.
"Careful."
She looked up.
Liang Wei stood in front of her, calm and immaculate as ever, as if he hadn't been waiting in an airport for thirty minutes. Beside him sat his grandmother, perfectly poised with her cane resting against her knee, and his sister Yue, who was already grinning like she'd just been handed a gift.
"You're late," Yue said cheerfully.
Xiaoyu bent forward slightly, hands on her knees, catching her breath. "I—traffic—my driver—"
Liang Wei checked his watch. "Seven minutes."
Her eyes widened. "Only seven?"
"Yes."
She straightened, embarrassed. "I thought—"
"You ran," Yue cut in, delighted. "My brother's girlfriend ran through an airport."
"I am not—" Xiaoyu stopped herself, flushed, and swallowed. "…I'm sorry."
Liang Wei studied her for a beat longer than necessary.
Then, without a word, he reached out and took her hand.
Her breath hitched instantly.
His palm was warm, steady, fingers closing naturally around hers—as if this were something they did every day. As if it wasn't sending her heart straight into her throat.
"We still have time," he said calmly. "Sit."
Grandma hummed approvingly. "Good reflexes."
Xiaoyu blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Most men hesitate," the older woman said. "You didn't. That's a good sign."
Liang Wei released Xiaoyu's hand only long enough to guide her to a seat—then, to her surprise, he sat beside her instead of across. His arm came up, resting casually along the back of her chair, his hand settling lightly on her shoulder.
Too close.
Far too close.
Her entire body went stiff.
Yue noticed immediately.
"Oh my god," she stage-whispered. "Look at her face."
Xiaoyu's cheeks burned. "I'm fine."
"You look like you're being held hostage," Yue said.
Liang Wei's thumb shifted slightly against Xiaoyu's shoulder—slow, grounding.
"She's just not used to public displays," he said smoothly.
Public displays?!
Xiaoyu turned her head just enough to glare at him. "We never discussed—"
He leaned closer, voice low enough only she could hear. "Smile. My sister feeds on embarrassment."
Her lips twitched despite herself.
Grandma watched them with open interest. "Wei."
"Yes, Grandma."
"You've never held a woman like that in an airport before."
Xiaoyu froze.
Liang Wei didn't miss a beat. "There's a first time for everything."
Yue gasped dramatically. "Did you hear that? First time. I knew it."
Xiaoyu whispered, horrified, "First time?"
"She means," Yue said brightly, "first girlfriend. Ever."
Xiaoyu's head snapped toward Liang Wei.
"You didn't tell her?" Yue asked him.
"It never came up," he replied.
Grandma chuckled. "He brought board reports to his first family vacation. You do the math."
Xiaoyu stared at him, stunned. "Is that true?"
He met her gaze, unapologetic. "Yes."
Her heart did something strange and unsteady.
"Oh," she said softly.
Yue leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "So, Xiaoyu, what's it like dating a man who schedules romance?"
Xiaoyu opened her mouth—
"He doesn't," Liang Wei said immediately.
Yue blinked. "You just told me—"
"She hasn't complained," he added.
Xiaoyu choked. "I—I haven't had the chance."
That earned her a pleased hum from Grandma.
"Good," the older woman said. "You'll train him."
Liang Wei sighed. "Grandma."
"What?" she said innocently. "I waited decades for this."
The boarding announcement echoed overhead.
Liang Wei stood smoothly, extending his hand to Xiaoyu again.
"Come," he said. "Before you make us late twice."
She took his hand automatically this time.
As they walked, he didn't let go.
Not when they passed security.
Not when they entered the jet bridge.
Not even when Yue leaned over and stage-whispered, "He's holding on like someone might steal you."
Xiaoyu's ears burned.
Once inside the plane, Liang Wei guided her into the seat beside him, stowing her bag before she could even reach for it. As he sat, his arm draped naturally around her shoulders again, drawing her just slightly closer.
She stared straight ahead, acutely aware of every point of contact.
"This is… a lot," she murmured.
"I know," he replied quietly.
"Your family—"
"Are relentless."
She let out a small laugh. "They like you being like this."
"They like you," he corrected.
Her heart stumbled.
Before she could respond, Yue leaned over the seat in front of them. "So," she said brightly, "are you nervous flying with him?"
Xiaoyu hesitated. "I'm fine with flying."
Yue grinned. "I meant flying with him."
Liang Wei raised an eyebrow. "Yue."
"What? He looks like he'd correct turbulence."
Xiaoyu laughed—really laughed this time.
Liang Wei felt it more than heard it. His arm tightened just a fraction.
"There," Yue said smugly. "I knew you'd make her laugh. Miracles do happen."
Grandma closed her eyes contentedly. "Let them be. Young people need noise."
As the plane began to taxi, Xiaoyu finally relaxed into her seat. Liang Wei's presence, once overwhelming, now felt… steady. Protective.
"You don't have to keep holding me," she whispered.
"I know," he said.
He didn't move.
Her head tipped slightly, resting against his shoulder before she could stop herself.
She froze again.
Liang Wei glanced down at her, surprised—then said nothing, simply adjusting his arm to make her more comfortable.
Yue saw everything.
Her grin was unstoppable.
Xiaoyu closed her eyes, mortified but warm, aware of one undeniable truth:
Whatever this was—strategy, scandal control, convenient closeness—it was no longer just an act.
And judging by the way Liang Wei held on to her, he knew it too.