Su Nian found Duan Yichen in the private study on the second floor.
The room smelled faintly of old books and expensive ink. A wall of windows overlooked the estate grounds like a command post. Yichen stood by the desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled to his forearms, posture calm in a way that suggested nothing in this house happened without his permission.
He didn't turn immediately when she entered.
"You spoke to your family," he said.
Su Nian paused. "How did you know?"
He finally looked at her, eyes quiet and sharp. "Your face changed."
She walked closer. "Su Wan called. She knows I'm here."
Yichen's mouth curved faintly. "Of course she does."
Su Nian frowned. "That didn't surprise you."
"Nothing about families surprises me," he said.
She held up the card. "You wrote this."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Yichen stepped closer, closing the distance with the ease of someone who never doubts he has the right to stand in your space. "Because your family is an access point," he said calmly. "Anyone can use them to reach you."
"And you think they'll be used?"
"I think they're already being used," he corrected.
Su Nian's throat tightened. "By whom?"
Yichen's gaze shifted briefly toward the window. "The same people who arranged my accident."
She swallowed. "You're certain?"
Yichen's expression didn't change, but his voice cooled. "A brake failure isn't fate. It's logistics."
Su Nian nodded once.
Yichen's eyes lowered to her hands. "You reacted when you touched my leg. Not just physically. Emotionally."
Su Nian's instincts flared. "What are you implying?"
"I'm implying you've seen this before," he said, and his gaze lifted to hers again. "Black qi."
The word landed like a stone.
Su Nian's pulse skipped.
Dr. Fang had joked about it. Madam Duan had ignored it. But Yichen—Yichen said it like he believed it existed.
"You can't see it," Su Nian said carefully.
"No," Yichen admitted. "But I can feel the difference between medical pain and something else." He tilted his head slightly. "And I can see you trying not to react."
Su Nian's breath slowed.
She could lie.
But he would keep testing until the truth bled out anyway.
"Yes," she said quietly. "It's black qi."
Yichen's gaze sharpened, but he didn't look shocked. If anything, he looked… satisfied.
"That means my suspicion is correct," he said.
Su Nian frowned. "What suspicion?"
"That I'm not sick," he replied. "I'm being restrained."
Her lips tightened. "By someone who cultivates it."
Yichen nodded once. "And you can remove it."
"Yes," Su Nian said. "But it won't be quick. It will fight."
Yichen stepped closer again, close enough that she could smell the clean bitterness of his cologne. His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth, then lifted again, deliberate.
"You're shaking," he noted.
Su Nian realized her fingers had curled into her palm. She forced them to relax. "I'm not used to people believing me."
Yichen's expression flickered—something like amusement, something like understanding.
"You're used to people blaming you," he corrected.
Su Nian's throat tightened.
Yichen's voice lowered, quieter now. "Your family hates you."
"Yes."
"And they want you back," he said. "Not because they miss you. Because you're valuable here."
Su Nian's eyes narrowed. "So what do you want?"
Yichen didn't flinch from the bluntness. "An alliance."
Su Nian held his gaze. "I'm not your servant."
Yichen's mouth curved faintly. "Good. Servants are disposable."
The words should've been chilling.
Instead, they were honest.
Su Nian exhaled slowly. "What does your 'alliance' require?"
Yichen's gaze was steady. "You treat me. You tell me what you know. And you don't hide your enemies from me."
"And in return?"
He leaned slightly closer. "In return, you get Duan protection. You get resources. You get freedom inside this house." His voice softened just a fraction. "And you get me."
Su Nian's pulse stumbled.
It wasn't a love confession.
It was worse—an offer of ownership framed as partnership.
She should refuse.
But when she looked at him, she saw the tension beneath his composure, the way his jaw tightened too often, the way his eyes never fully rested. He wasn't offering protection because he was kind.
He was offering it because he needed her.
And because, perhaps, he recognized something in her that matched his own loneliness.
Su Nian swallowed. "You don't even like me."
Yichen's mouth curved, subtle. "I don't know you."
"That's not the same as liking."
Yichen paused, then said, "I like that you don't beg."
Su Nian's cheeks warmed, annoyance and something else mixing. "That's a low standard."
"I have a low tolerance for nonsense," he corrected.
The silence between them stretched.
Then, from the hallway, a loud thud sounded—followed by Dr. Fang's muffled curse.
"Who designs a hallway corner that sharp?!" he muttered.
Yichen didn't even turn. "Dr. Fang."
Dr. Fang appeared in the doorway, rubbing his elbow, trying to look dignified and failing. "I was… patrolling. Aggressively."
Su Nian's lips twitched.
Yichen's gaze flicked to her expression and lingered, as if the hint of amusement on her face was something rare he wanted to examine.
Dr. Fang cleared his throat. "Young Master, security reports a breach at the outer wall. Someone left something at the gate."
Yichen's expression sharpened instantly. "Show me."
They moved quickly downstairs.
At the gate, a small black box sat on the ground like a threat.
No label. No note.
Just a box.
Su Nian felt black qi seeping from it like cold breath.
Yichen looked at her. "Don't touch it."
Su Nian's gaze narrowed. "It's meant for me."
Yichen's voice was flat. "That's why you don't touch it."
Dr. Fang whispered, "Can we call someone who is… less alive to open it?"
Su Nian shot him a look. "No one opens it."
But the box clicked.
On its own.
The lid lifted slowly.
And inside—
A piece of paper, folded neatly.
Su Nian didn't touch it. She leaned close enough to read.
Three words, written in elegant handwriting:
COME HOME. NOW.
Su Nian's stomach dropped.
Because she recognized the handwriting.
Her father's.
And the black qi around the box thickened, pleased—as if it knew something she didn't.