The evening sun spilled its golden sorrow across Henan, catching on glass-paneled walls and flowing through the corridors like a secret too heavy to hold. Inside the hospital's quietest wing—newly opened and rarely visited—Naya pressed her fingers against a cooling cup of coffee. The gentle hum of the vending machine was the only background music to her spiraling thoughts.
She had tried to focus on the charts, to drown in her patient files, to ignore the thrum in her chest ever since Jun's unexpected appearance. But his smug grin, those framed glasses, and the way his gaze pierced through Nian like a haunting melody kept replaying in her head.
Nian hadn't spoken about him since. Not a word.
"Naya?"
Startled, she looked up. Nurse Lin peeked into the room with curious eyes. "You're needed in post-op. There's a case coming in. Trauma. Gunshot."
Gunshot? In Henan?
She nodded, stood quickly, and walked briskly toward the theater.
_
Down in the administrative section of the hospital, Jun leaned against the counter of the visitor's lounge, twirling a fountain pen in his fingers. He wore a dark, custom-fitted turtleneck, the kind that kissed the base of his jaw and hinted at a lean, controlled strength beneath. The nurse behind the desk tried not to stare at him, though her blush betrayed her effort.
Jun wasn't just attractive—he was magnetic. His voice, when he finally spoke, was low, crisp, and laced with charm.
"I'm here to see Dr. Nian. Tell him... Jun stopped by."
Then he smiled. It wasn't a friendly smile—it was a smirk that suggested he was about to twist the world around him with just a whisper.
_
Meanwhile, in the OR, Nian was in his element. His hands moved with certainty, eyes sharp and focused. He barked instructions in crisp Mandarin. But even as he clamped arteries and sutured shredded flesh, a ghost pressed at the back of his mind.
Jun.
Back in the day...
_
Three Years Ago – Shanghai
Rain lashed against the high-rise windows as the city glowed below in restless traffic. Inside a penthouse, Nian and Jun stood face to face. Tension crackled like a live wire.
"You think love is enough, Nian?" Jun's voice cracked, his chest heaving. "You think just because you saved my life once, you can keep owning me?"
"I never wanted to own you," Nian growled. "I wanted to love you. But you—you always had one foot out the door."
Jun shoved him. Nian didn't budge.
"What are you going to do?" Jun spat. "Silence me with a kiss?"
Nian didn't answer. He lunged.
Their lips collided in a violent, desperate kiss. Jun bit down, and Nian growled into his mouth, yanking him by the collar and slamming him into the kitchen counter. A wine glass on the edge shattered to the floor as Jun's hand swept across it, trying to grab something, anything, to hold onto.
Jun gasped between kisses, his breath ragged. "You always do this—"
"Shut up," Nian snarled, ripping the turtleneck off Jun's body, exposing lean muscles and heated skin. His fingers dug into Jun's waist, dragging him backward into the wall. The sound of another vase crashing echoed through the penthouse.
Jun clawed at Nian's belt, his breath ragged. "You're going to ruin me again."
"You were already ruined," Nian rasped against his neck, biting hard. "And you loved it."
Jun yanked Nian by the shirt, twisting them until their bodies slammed onto the leather sofa. Nian pinned him down, their chests heaving, clothes being torn with such urgency it was almost primal. The air between them burned.
"You're mine," Nian hissed.
"Prove it," Jun gasped.
Nian did—again and again. He kissed Jun like a man possessed, gripping his thighs, guiding him into every angle with brutal precision. Their bodies moved together in chaos and rhythm, tangled in silk, breath, and hunger.
Sweat dripped, sheets tangled, and Jun arched beneath him, crying out Nian's name like a curse and a blessing. Their love wasn't soft. It was dominance, surrender, a crash of egos and lust.
Hours later, bruised and breathless, Jun lay with his head on Nian's chest.
"I'd give you anything," Nian whispered, brushing Jun's damp hair from his temple.
"You already did," Jun said, softer now. "And it almost destroyed you."
_
Back in the present, Nian washed his hands and pulled off his gloves. But his mind wasn't in the scrub room. It was drifting in velvet memories soaked in danger.
He stepped outside only to find Jun waiting—leaning casually against the tiled wall, one brow arched.
"You still wear that cologne," Jun noted. "How... nostalgic."
Nian stiffened. "What do you want?"
Jun pushed off the wall. "I'm here for business. A quiet investor tour. But now I'm curious—who's the girl?"
"That's none of your business."
"Oh," Jun purred, stepping closer, "but I think it is. See... the past has this nasty habit of biting us in the ass."
Jun's eyes locked on Nian's with feral intensity. "Did you tell her? That we shared a bed? That once you kissed me the same way you kiss her?"
Nian's jaw tightened. "You're playing with fire."
"I always have, darling."
_
At lunch, Naya walked into the hospital cafeteria, tray in hand, and paused. Nian and Jun were sitting across from each other at a far corner table, tension thick like static.
She walked past them, hoping they wouldn't notice, but Jun's voice rang out.
"Naya, darling! Come, join us."
She blinked. Nian looked up sharply.
With an awkward smile, she sat beside Nian.
Jun leaned forward. "Did you know your sweet doctor here used to take me on yacht trips across the Pacific?"
Naya blinked. "I... didn't."
Nian glared at him. "Jun, stop."
Jun sipped his wine. "Ah, but the truth is too delicious to keep buried, isn't it?"
Suddenly, Jun's phone buzzed. He read the message and smirked.
"Well, time flies when you're breaking hearts. I'll see you both soon."
He kissed Naya's hand dramatically before striding off.
Once alone, Naya turned to Nian.
"You and him...?"
Nian didn't answer right away. Then quietly, he said, "Yes. A long time ago."
She stared at him, hurt flickering in her eyes—not because he had loved a man, but because he hadn't told her.
_
That night, Naya stood by her apartment window, the city humming outside.
She didn't know whether to cry, scream, or just let the silence swallow her. Nian had always been mysterious, but this? It opened a door she wasn't ready to walk through.
_
Elsewhere, Jun stood on a balcony in his hotel suite, phone pressed to his ear.
"Yes. The plan is working. She's shaken. Nian's on edge."
He lit a cigarette, watching the smoke curl into the air.
"Soon, we'll see how strong their love really is."
His glasses glinted under the moonlight, and his smile was nothing short of wicked.