For one terrifying heartbeat, Wei Chen's eyes flashed gold-black.
Lin Xue's breath stopped in her throat. Her hands moved on instinct—she grabbed his face, thumbs pressing his cheekbones, forcing him to look at her like a man, not a door.
"Chen Wei," she snapped, voice shaking, "say my name. Stay real."
Wei Chen blinked hard, like he was waking up from someone else's dream. The gold-black in his eyes faded, leaving the familiar dark warmth behind. He swallowed. "Lin Xue," he said, rough.
"Again," Lin Xue demanded, because one answer wasn't enough when a monster could copy voices.
Wei Chen's jaw clenched. "Lin Xue," he said louder.
The black sun cracks above them flickered, annoyed, like the world hated their anchor.
The shadow in front of them smiled and opened its mouth again.
This time, it wore Wei Chen's voice perfectly—smooth, lazy, shameless.
"Lin Xue," it purred. "Come here."
Lin Xue's spine stiffened. Her wrist mark stung, reacting to the sound like the bond rope inside her wanted to answer. She hissed and pressed frost over her wrist like a bandage.
Wei Chen stepped closer to Lin Xue, shoulder to shoulder, heat rising around him like golden armor. "Don't listen," he growled. "It's wearing my sound."
Lin Xue's eyes stayed hard. "Then we test it," she whispered.
Wei Chen's mouth twitched, roguish even now. "Ice Queen," he murmured, "you're about to interrogate my copy?"
Lin Xue pinched his side. "Focus."
Wei Chen winced, then nodded once. "Do it."
Lin Xue turned to the shadow and lifted her chin. "Say my name," she ordered, cold and clean. "Stay real."
The shadow smiled wider. "Lin Xue," it said in Wei Chen's tone, perfect… and wrong.
Lin Xue's stomach sank. Because the sound was right, but the weight wasn't. Wei Chen said her name like he was holding her steady. The shadow said it like it was pulling a leash.
Lin Xue's voice cut sharper. "Again," she demanded. "And this time—say it like you mean it."
The shadow chuckled. "I do mean it," it purred. "You belong to the door now."
Lin Xue's wrist mark burned. Frost crawled up her forearm as her curse surged, excited by the cold claim.
Wei Chen's arm wrapped around Lin Xue's waist instantly, pulling her close like an anchor. His breath was hot by her ear. "Look at me," he whispered. "Not it."
Lin Xue forced her eyes to him. The warmth in his gaze steadied her curse. Her breath shook. "Chen Wei…"
Wei Chen's roguish grin flickered, wicked and tender. "Do you want me to stop holding you?" he asked, clear.
Lin Xue swallowed. "No," she whispered. "Hold me. Harder."
Wei Chen's eyes darkened for half a second, and his arm tightened. "Yes, ma'am," he murmured.
Lin Xue's cheeks burned. "Idiot."
Wei Chen leaned in and kissed her—slow, deep, steady—because a kiss from the real one felt different. It wasn't a trick. It wasn't a pull. It was a choice. Lin Xue clutched his collar and kissed him back, trembling, not forced—chosen.
Wei Chen pulled back just enough to ask, low and clear, "Do you want me to stop?"
Lin Xue shook her head. "Don't stop," she whispered. "Make it hear us."
Wei Chen pressed his forehead to hers. "Then speak," he murmured. "Make the law yours."
Lin Xue turned back to the shadow, eyes like ice blades. "You said I belong to the door," she said. "Prove it."
The shadow tilted its head. "How?"
Lin Xue's voice stayed cold. "Say my name," she said, "and tell me what you fear most."
The shadow smiled. "Fear?" it purred. "I fear nothing."
Lin Xue's eyes narrowed. "Wrong," she whispered.
Wei Chen's mouth twitched. "It's too perfect," he murmured. "Fake."
Lin Xue didn't stop. "Say my name," she commanded again, "and tell me who you miss when you are alone."
The shadow laughed softly. "Alone?" it purred. "I am never alone. I am the door."
Lin Xue's wrist mark burned again, but her eyes stayed hard. "Wrong again."
Wei Chen's grip tightened on her waist. His voice went low, fierce. "It can copy my sound," he said, "but it can't copy my mess."
Lin Xue's lips trembled for a heartbeat, then hardened. "Last question," she said to the shadow. "Say my name… and tell me the word you hate being called."
The shadow's smile didn't change. "Lin Xue," it purred. "I hate being called weak."
Wei Chen's eyes flashed. "No," he growled. "That's not it."
Lin Xue's breath shook out. She lifted her hand and pointed at the shadow like a judge. "You're lying," she said. "You answered like a perfect mask. Too clean. Too proud."
The shadow's smile thinned. "Then what is the truth?" it hissed.
Lin Xue turned to Wei Chen, eyes bright. "What word do you hate?" she whispered.
Wei Chen's jaw clenched. He looked away for half a breath, then back at her. "Coward," he said, low. "I hate being called a coward."
Lin Xue's heart clenched. Because it was real. Because it was soft in a place that wanted only sharp.
Lin Xue turned back to the shadow. "Say it," she ordered. "Say: 'I hate being called a coward.'"
The shadow's mouth opened.
And for the first time, it hesitated.
Its voice came out wrong—broken, scraping. "I… hate…"
It couldn't finish.
Wei Chen stepped forward, golden heat rising like a sun behind his eyes. "That's because you don't have shame," he snarled. "You don't have fear. You don't have love."
The shadow hissed and surged forward, angry now, its long fingers snapping toward Lin Xue's wrist mark again.
Lin Xue moved fast. She pressed her palm to Wei Chen's chest, over the black sun crack, and commanded, "My name is mine. His name is his. Stop."
The inner world shuddered.
The shadow's hand jerked mid-air like it hit an invisible wall.
Wei Chen's breath hitched. "It worked," he rasped.
Lin Xue didn't relax. She leaned in close to Wei Chen, mouth near his ear, and whispered the anchor again, private and powerful. "Chen Wei," she said, "stay real."
Wei Chen's voice rumbled back, rough and warm. "Lin Xue," he whispered. "Stay with me."
Lin Xue's cheeks warmed. She kissed him once—quick and sealing—then turned back to the shadow.
The shadow's smile returned, thin and cruel. "You think you won?" it whispered. "Then listen."
It lifted its hand and pointed at Wei Chen's chest.
The black sun cracks above them flared.
And the sound of a knock echoed through the inner world—
Knock.
From the outside coffin wall.
The shadow purred, "The other door is opening too."
Lin Xue's blood went cold.
Because if the outside door opened while they were inside Wei Chen's chest…
then the monster wouldn't need his name.
It would have his body.
To be Continued
© Kishtika., 2025
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