The chaos had passed, but its shadows still lingered.
The last embers of Project Seraphim had been stamped out — legally buried, emotionally scorched. Nian Zeyan Xu had returned to his roots. No more bloodstained gloves. No more clandestine surgeries. No more orders barked through coded phone lines.
He'd walked away from the operating table and reclaimed the throne he never truly abdicated — the ruthless, revered CEO of Xu Biomedical Holdings.
---
Zhengzhou was cold today, but not unkind. The building loomed ahead like a glass citadel. Xu Biomedical Holdings towered above the city, reflective and silent — just like its CEO.
For Nian Zeyan Xu, stepping into the gleaming towers of his family's empire felt like walking out of a battlefield and into a gilded cage.
Beside him, Naya adjusted the thick long dreadlocks that framed her fierce, beautiful face. The dreadlocks were more than just hair — they were a testament to the woman she'd become: resilient, rooted, unbreakable.
Today, the small family felt whole again.
Jace Lei Mei — now officially Jace Zeyan Xu after his father's insistence — was finally home. At just 1 year and 2 months old, he was far too young to understand the full weight of the world his parents lived in. But his presence, soft and innocent, filled the penthouse with a light Nian and Naya hadn't dared hope for.
Jace's first steps in China had been met with gentle smiles and wide eyes from the household staff. His tiny fingers grasped Naya's long dreadlocks as she carried him, his bright curious eyes taking in everything — the towering skyscrapers outside, the quiet hum of the city below, the warmth of his mother's arms.
Naya's mother, still in Juba, kept a constant stream of photos and videos coming. Jace covered in sweet potato mush, giggling as he stumbled on the grass, waving at the camera with a chubby hand. Though far away, the bonds of family stretched across continents.
Nian watched quietly from the corner, the weight of his responsibilities resting heavy on his shoulders. No more war zones, no more emergency trauma cases. The surgical masks were packed away, replaced by tailored suits and boardroom battles. He had promised himself — and Naya — that this was their fresh start.
A start where the only blood spilled was ink on contracts.
But beneath the polished surface, something simmered. Old ghosts, old secrets — and a past that refused to stay buried.
For now, though, the family savored these quiet moments — the slow mornings with soft laughter, the first words spoken by Jace, the shared looks between Nian and Naya that spoke of hope, of love.
The storm had passed. But in the calm, new currents began to stir.
The city lights of Zhengzhou glimmered like stars trapped in glass. For once, there was no code red emergency. No surgeries. No secrets spilling like blood on cold tile. Just the steady rhythm of something rare—peace.
Nian Zeyan Xu sat in the backseat of his black Bentley, eyes half-closed, but mind racing with something far softer than data or deadlines. Love. Home. Jace.
He was no longer a man defined solely by scalpels and scandal. He was becoming a father. A partner. A soon-to-be husband.
---
Inside their newly furnished penthouse, Naya adjusted a framed photo of Jace in the hallway. The little boy's smile—wide, dimpled, curious—made the entire house feel warmer. A blend of her earth and Nian's fire. His full name now read Jace Zeyan Xu, printed proudly on school forms and medical records alike.
Naya sighed contentedly and turned. The long dreadlocks she now wore were tucked neatly under a silk scarf, cascading down her back in thick, graceful strands. Her dark brown skin glowed in the soft lighting of their new living room—cream and gold, with touches of deep forest green she'd insisted on. A home, not a museum.
She heard the door click open.
He was home.
Nian stepped inside, tall, suited, unbothered by the cold. "You rearranged the frames again."
"They were crooked."
"They were fine," he said, dropping his coat, but smiling.
"You're just scared of change," she teased.
He walked over, slipping an arm around her waist, then leaned down to kiss her neck. "That's the only change I'm not afraid of," he murmured.
Her breath caught. "You're smooth, Dr. Xu."
"CEO Xu," he corrected. "Retired from the blade. Promoted to husband... soon."
She blinked, taken aback—but not entirely surprised. She'd seen him pacing more lately, hands twitchy. He'd been distracted, softer.
"You mean it?" she asked gently.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he stepped back and reached into his coat pocket. Then knelt.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
---
No cameras. No fireworks. No audience.
Just the two of them, in the quiet heart of their shared sanctuary.
"Naya Ayen... you've been my chaos, my calm, my sharpest wound and my deepest healing. I want to wake up to your voice and fall asleep to your breath. I want to give Jace the kind of family we both dreamed of but never had."
He opened the velvet box—simple, elegant, rose-gold with a single sapphire in the center.
"Will you marry me?"
Naya's vision blurred. She was back in that dim hospital hallway the first day they'd met. Back in that operating room. Back in Juba. Back in the pain, the passion, the storm.
And now... this.
"Yes," she whispered.
Then louder.
"Yes, Nian Zeyan Xu. A thousand times, yes."
---
The wedding was private. Just them, a judge, and their closest friends from the hospital. Jace wore a little tuxedo and chewed on the velvet ring pouch the entire time. Nian couldn't stop grinning. Naya cried twice, once during vows, and again when she saw her mother's face on the livestream from Juba.
After the ceremony, Nian carried her over the threshold of their new apartment—bigger, warmer, filled with light and soft rugs Jace already tripped on daily.
And every night, they tucked him in together.
---
Jace had settled into preschool just outside the city center, where he was quickly labeled "the curious one" by his teachers. He spoke English with a lilt, Mandarin with effort, and babbled nonsense when tired. His favorite things were rice dumplings, dinosaur socks, and any toy he could throw into the bathtub.
Sometimes, Naya would wake in the middle of the night just to watch Nian asleep next to her—his arm around her waist, his breathing steady. Sometimes she still couldn't believe it.
That this was her life.
Not stolen. Not borrowed.
Hers.
---
Xu Biomedical Holdings had a new floor plan. And with it, a new executive secretary.
Luo Yichen arrived quietly, transferred from Shanghai, her resume clean, her heels sharp.
But that's a story for later.
Because right now...
There was no storm.
Just peace.
And the pulse of something too real to fear.