The rain tapped a soft, deceptive rhythm against the high-rise glass of Nian's penthouse office. Zhengzhou's skyline sprawled in the distance, veiled behind sheets of silver mist. Below, the world bustled and blinked beneath umbrellas and neon, unaware that within the top floor of LeiMed Tower, a storm far more personal was breaking loose.
Nian stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, his arms crossed tight against his chest, back rigid, jaw clenched. His phone sat on the glass desk behind him, still glowing. The video had stopped playing minutes ago. But the image burned in his mind like a permanent brand.
A child. No—his child.
Big dark eyes blinked up at the camera. Chubby cheeks. A small birthmark shaped like a soft crescent moon on the left shoulder—a genetic echo from his own father. The boy looked no more than a year old. 1.2 years maybe. Still in daycare, too small for preschool.
And the name Jun sent with the video?
Jace Lei Wei.
The surname didn't lie. Neither did the resemblance. There were too many signs. Too many truths screaming through the silence.
He hadn't believed Jun at first. Had dismissed it as another of his twisted games. But the moment the video played—a laughing toddler tumbling in the grass, chasing bubbles—everything inside Nian had gone quiet.
That's mine.
His knees had buckled into the chair.
A son. A living legacy. A secret kept from him for over a year. His chest burned.
The door to his office opened with a soft knock.
"You called for me?"
Naya's voice.
Nian turned slowly.
She wore a pale-blue blouse, damp from the drizzle, her curls slightly tousled. There were dark crescents beneath her eyes. The exhaustion of juggling clinical rotations, hidden guilt, and unspoken truths.
But she stood tall.
Nian didn't speak. He walked to the desk and tapped the screen. The video replayed.
Naya froze.
Her throat worked, but no words came.
Nian looked up. His voice low, taut. Dangerous.
"How long were you going to keep him from me?"
She inhaled sharply. "I wanted to tell you. I did."
"When, Naya? When he turns eighteen? When he starts asking why he doesn't have a father?"
His voice rose, sharp and wounded.
Naya stepped forward. "You were leaving a war zone. Your life was chaos. You were buried in trauma, surgeries, saving strangers. I didn't want to burden you with a child—with another responsibility you never asked for."
Nian laughed bitterly. "You thought I couldn't handle my own blood?"
Naya bristled. "I thought you'd choose the mission over him. Over me."
That hit harder than any bullet.
He stepped closer, eyes narrowing.
"I had a right to know. I would've come back. I would've fought to be there."
Naya blinked, tears building. "I didn't want to lose you. I thought if I told you... you'd disappear. Or worse—drag him into the world Jun now lives in."
Silence fell. Thick. Unforgiving.
Nian exhaled. Turned away. His fingers brushed over the edge of the desk. Then:
"What did you name him?"
Softly, Naya whispered, "Jace Lei Wei."
Nian turned, and something cracked in his gaze.
"He should have had my name…"
"And yet… not even my name"
Nian pressed his knuckles to his lips, trembling. "Is he healthy?"
"Very. Smart too. Mischievous like someone I know."
He chuckled. One hand ran over his face. "God... I missed everything. His first laugh. First steps."
Naya stepped forward, cautiously. "He looks like you when he sleeps."
Nian bit back the emotion. "Does he know about me?"
"He knows he has a papa who works very far away. And that he's loved, so loved."
Tears brimmed in Naya's eyes.
Then Nian snapped.
"And Jun? How the hell did he get that video?"
Naya looked down. "I sent it to a private server—my cloud. Only my mother has access. He must've hacked it. I don't know."
Nian slammed a fist on the desk.
"He knows. Which means Jace isn't just a secret now—he's leverage."
A buzz. Nian's phone lit up.
Another message from Jun:
> "Now you understand. One wrong move, and the boy suffers. Come back, Nian. Or watch your world fall."
Nian's face went cold.
He turned to Naya.
"Get your mother. Get Jace out of Juba. To a safehouse. I'll fund it, guard it, burn bridges if I have to. No one touches my son."
"And you?" she asked, voice trembling.
He looked out the window, rage simmering beneath his cool tone.
"I'm going to end this. And if Jun wants a war... he just declared it on a father.
_____
The afternoon light filtered weakly through the dusty windows of Naya's modest apartment in Zhengzhou. Jace Lei Wei sat on the faded rug, a small toy car clutched in his tiny hands, completely unaware that his very existence was about to upend lives far beyond the four walls of this quiet home.
Nian stood by the doorway, his eyes never leaving the boy's innocent face. A son he'd never met, a life he hadn't known existed until days ago. The weight of the truth crashed down on him like a tidal wave — fury, disbelief, and an unexpected tenderness all tangled within.
"How could I have been so blind?" Nian murmured under his breath. "Jace… you're mine, and yet you don't even carry my family name."
Naya looked up from the kitchen counter, the exhaustion of sleepless nights and hard days etched in her features. "He doesn't know who you are. And for now, maybe that's for the best."
Nian's jaw clenched. "Jun is using him. He knows the leverage Jace gives us — or rather, me. He's playing a dangerous game."
Naya's eyes softened. "Jace is just a child. Innocent. We have to protect that, no matter what."
Nian's gaze hardened. "I'm not letting anyone use my son as a pawn. Not Jun. Not Project Seraphim. Nobody."
The name hung heavy in the room, a shadow that refused to be ignored.
Suddenly, Nian's phone buzzed. The screen flashed a message from an unknown number.
"You want your son safe? Then come back. Project Seraphim isn't finished with you."
His hands trembled as he read the threat.
Naya reached out, placing a steady hand on his arm. "We'll face this together."
Nian nodded slowly, a fierce determination lighting his eyes. "For Jace. For us. Whatever it takes."
Outside, the city hummed on — unaware of the storm gathering just beneath its surface.
Somewhere deep in the urban maze, secrets twisted tighter, waiting to snap.
Nian Zeyan Xu sat alone in his apartment, the low hum of the city bleeding through the window. His gaze was fixed on a photo — Jace's smiling face, carefree and innocent. The boy had no idea of the chaos his existence had stirred, no inkling that he was the key to a game far darker than any child should know.
His phone buzzed again. A message from Jun.
"You think you can keep your son safe by hiding? The clock is ticking, Nian. Project Seraphim won't wait."
Nian's fingers clenched the device like it was a burning coal. Jun's words were a knife wrapped in silk — smooth, dangerous, and threatening.
A knock at the door shattered the silence.
He didn't wait for an invitation. The door swung open to reveal Jun, impeccably dressed, his presence filling the room like a storm. His sharp eyes locked on Nian's, an unspoken challenge in their depths.
"Still playing the protector?" Jun's voice was a dangerous purr. "You can't shield Jace forever."
Nian's lips tightened. "I won't let you use him. Not now, not ever."
Jun smiled — but it didn't reach his eyes. "You're so naïve, old friend. The world doesn't care about innocence."
Tension crackled between them, a battlefield of unspoken past and uncertain futures.
"Why are you really here, Jun?" Nian asked, voice low but steady.
Jun stepped closer, his breath warm against Nian's ear. "To remind you that the past never stays buried. And that sometimes, the only way forward… is to confront the darkness."
As Jun's words settled like a shadow, Nian's phone buzzed again.
A new message from an unknown number:
"Project Seraphim's deadline approaches. We are watching."
The game was no longer just between old rivals. It was bigger, more dangerous.
Outside, Zhengzhou's streets glittered with rain-soaked light — but for Nian,
the night had turned pitch black.