The morning light filled the room with a gentle glow as Yichen slowly opened his eyes. For a moment, everything felt the same—the warmth of the blankets, the quiet hum of the city outside. He reached instinctively for the familiar smile, the soft voice that always greeted him with a sweet "good morning." But the space beside him was empty.
His heart lurched. He sat up quickly, calling softly, "Zhaoyan?" He searched the bathroom, the kitchen, the rooftop—every corner of the house—but no trace of him remained. His eyes brimmed with tears. "No… he's gone," Yichen whispered, his voice trembling.
Stumbling back into the bedroom, he searched again, desperate for a sign, for Zhaoyan to leap out with one of his playful teases. "Zhaoyan, are you kidding me? Come out! Please…" But silence was his only answer.
