Morning arrived quietly, dragging pale light across the marble floors of the Li estate.
The world outside the window was gray, washed clean by the rain. Inside, Li An sat at the edge of his bed, a cup of untouched tea cooling beside him.
He hadn't slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, he heard his name whispered softly from somewhere just beyond the edge of waking.
You still smell like favorite addiction.
He'd told himself it was a dream. He'd told himself that ghosts weren't real.
But the portrait on the easel the one that now showed both him and Ruan Ye under a red umbrella was proof that dreams didn't paint themselves.
The door creaked open.
"Still not eating?" Li Mei's voice broke the silence. She carried a tray porridge, soy milk, fruit trying her best to sound cheerful.
Li An blinked, forcing a smile. "I'm not hungry."
"The maid said you told them that yesterday." She sighed, setting the tray on the table. "You're already too thin. If Mom sees you like this"
"I'll eat," he said quietly. "Later."
She frowned but didn't argue. Instead, she opened the curtains, letting light flood the room. "It's good to have you home," she said softly. "Even if the house feels... strange lately."
Li An looked up. "Strange?"
Li Mei tilted her head, thoughtful. "Like it's colder, one of the maid joked they hear footsteps at night when everyone's asleep." She laughed nervously. "Probably just her imagination."
Li An didn't reply. His gaze drifted toward the mirror. The surface glinted faintly almost as if it had breathed.
Li Mei noticed. "Hey," she said. "You're not still painting those ghost things, are you?"
He smiled faintly. "No ghosts. Just... faces I don't want to forget."
After breakfast, Li Mei went downstairs to answer a call from their mother.
Li An stood alone by the window, tracing his reflection with a finger. His own eyes stared back tired, haunted.
"Ruan Ye," he whispered.
The air in the room shifted.
He didn't turn around, but he felt it warmth at his back, the soft pull of someone's presence.
"You said my name," came the familiar voice, low and steady.
Li An closed his eyes. "You shouldn't be here. If Mei sees you"
"She won't."
"She said she hears footsteps."
Ruan Ye laughed softly, the sound like rain sliding down glass. "Maybe I forget to be quiet."
Li An turned then slowly and there he was, beautiful as the day they met.
The same gentle eyes, the same dark hair that refused to stay neat. Only now, the edges of his form shimmered faintly, like heat above pavement.
"You look tired," Ruan Ye said. "Did you dream?"
Li An swallowed. "You were in it."
"I always am."
There was a long silence between them the kind that used to mean comfort, now heavy with everything unsaid.
Finally, Li An spoke. "Last night you said... if I forget you, the bridge breaks."
Ruan Ye nodded once.
"What is the bridge?"
He smiled faintly. "The space between a promise and its breaking."
Li An frowned. "That's not an answer."
Ruan Ye stepped closer, though his feet made no sound. "You remembered me," he said quietly. "That remembering called me back. It's like... pulling a thread through the dark. As long as you remember, I can find you."
"And if I stop remembering?"
"Then I fade," he said simply. "Completely. Forever."
Li An's chest tightened. "You think I could forget you?"
Ruan Ye looked at him gently, almost sadly, and I kept my promise anyway."
The words hit like glass in the throat. Memories stirred fragments, flashes a night on the rooftop, Li An's trembling hands as he deleted photos, tore sketches, whispered apologies into Ruan Ye's skin.
If they find out, my father will destroy you.
Ruan Ye had only smiled then, kissed his forehead, and said, then I'll haunt you if I have to.
A knock shattered the moment.
"Li An?" Li Mei's voice carried through the door. "Mom's coming home tonight. She wants to see you."
His blood ran cold. "What? Tonight?"
"Yeah. She's flying in. You know how she gets."
"Tell her I'm-"
"Don't even think about it," Li Mei said. "You can't hide from her forever."
Her footsteps faded down the hall.
Li An turned back to Ruan Ye, panic rising. "You have to stay away. She can't see you, she'll notice something, and—"
Ruan Ye tilted his head. "You think I'd ruin you?"
"No," Li An said, voice breaking. "I think she would."
Something flickered across Ruan Ye's face hurt, brief and human. "You still live like they own you."
The words came out sharper than he meant. Silence followed, thick and echoing.
Finally, Ruan Ye said quietly, "I didn't come back to hide."
"Then why did you come back?"
Ruan Ye looked up, eyes soft. "To finish what you started. To remind you what love felt like before you were afraid of it."
That night, the house filled with light and chatter the sound of polished shoes, the smell of imported wine.
Madam Li arrived in her usual storm of grace and control, her assistant trailing behind with luggage.
Li An greeted her quietly in the grand foyer, forcing his expression into something polite.
"You look thin," she said first thing. "And pale. Are you eating?"
"Yes, Mother."
"Good. We have a charity gala next week. I'll have your tailor send something new." Her tone left no room for argument.
Li Mei tried to lighten the mood, chattering about the weather, but Li An barely heard. His eyes kept flicking toward the mirror by the staircase the one that had belonged to their grandmother.
For a heartbeat, Ruan Ye's reflection was there, standing behind his mother, unseen, eyes locked on him.
Li An forced his hands to stay still.
Madam Li glanced around. "What's that smell? Paint?"
"I've been working again," he said softly.
Her lips pressed together. "Still wasting time on that? You should be preparing for your father's company board seat."
Li An smiled thinly. "I'll try."
When she turned away, the mirror behind her cracked a thin, perfect fracture from top to bottom.
Madam Li didn't notice. But Li Mei did. Her eyes widened.
Later, after everyone went to bed, Li Mei slipped into his room. "An," she whispered. "I saw something tonight. Behind you. In the mirror."
Li An's heart thudded painfully. "You're imagining things."
"Am I?" She hesitated. "An... you talk in your sleep. You say someone's name."
He looked away. "You should get some rest."
"Who is Ruan Ye?"
His blood froze. He hadn't realized he'd spoken the name aloud.
Li Mei's eyes softened. "Is he... someone you lost?"
He swallowed. "Something like that."
When she finally left, the room felt too quiet again.
Ruan Ye appeared slowly this time, his form flickering like candlelight. "You shouldn't lie to her," he murmured.
"You shouldn't have broken the mirror," Li An shot back.
Ruan Ye smiled faintly. "It wasn't me. It was the bridge shaking."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you're starting to doubt again."
"I'm scared!" Li An said, voice trembling. "Do you think it's easy? Every time I look at you, I remember what it cost me to love you."
Ruan Ye stepped closer. "And yet, you still say my name."
Li An's breath hitched. His voice softened to a whisper. "Because if I stop, you'll disappear."
Ruan Ye reached out, his hand hovering just above Li An's cheek. "Then don't stop."
Li An's eyes closed, and for one fleeting second just one he felt warmth brush his skin. A phantom touch, but real enough to make him tremble.
When he opened his eyes, Ruan Ye was already fading, voice a whisper of rain and memory.
"If you forget me again, Li An... I disappear for good."
And then he was gone.
Li An stayed awake until dawn, sitting beside the mirror, repeating the name over and over like a prayer his voice breaking, his heart trying to hold onto what the world had already declared impossible.
"Ruan Ye... Ruan Ye... Ruan Ye."