"H–How…?" Xin Ying's voice broke. "Why are you here…? In the real world…?"
Tears streamed freely down her face now. She stared at Zhi Han as if she might disappear the moment she blinked.
Zhi Han reached out, cupping Xin Ying's cheek gently.
"When you died," she said softly, voice trembling despite her composure, "everything went dark. I panicked. I thought I had lost you forever."
Her fingers shook.
"I looked around, screaming your name… and then I saw a light. Bright—too bright. I didn't hesitate. I ran toward it."
Zhi Han swallowed.
"And then… I woke up here."
Silence fell between them.
Not awkward.
Not heavy.
Just peaceful—like the quiet after a storm, when two souls finally find each other again.
Xin Ying leaned forward, resting her forehead against Zhi Han's.
"I thought I lost you," she whispered.
"I won't let that happen again," Zhi Han replied.
She pulled back slightly and forced a small smile. "Come. Let's go to my place. I'll explain everything properly when we get there."
Xin Ying nodded.
Hand in hand, they walked toward the parking lot.
The air suddenly felt colder.
A familiar voice echoed through the dimly lit space.
"Well, well, well…"
They stopped.
Ling Zhihao stepped out from the shadows, slow and deliberate, a crooked smile playing on his lips.
"We meet again, Zhi Han."
Zhi Han's body stiffened. She instinctively stepped behind Xin Ying.
"Aww," Ling Zhihao chuckled. "Isn't that adorable? You even found yourself a little bodyguard."
His gaze slid toward Xin Ying, sharp and mocking.
"I must say, I didn't expect to see you here, Zhi Han. Or should I say—fate truly loves irony." He spread his arms slightly. "You and I? We're perfect together. Business partners. Power. Influence."
Xin Ying's hands curled into fists, nails biting into her palms until her knuckles turned white.
"I'll never choose you, Ling Zhihao," Zhi Han said coldly.
"I—"
Ling Zhihao never finished his sentence.
Thud.
Xin Ying's fist slammed into his face.
The impact snapped his head to the side. Blood spilled from his lip as he staggered back.
"I won't let you touch her," Xin Ying growled.
Ling Zhihao wiped the blood away slowly—and laughed.
"You haven't changed," he said. "Still throwing yourself in front of danger."
He lunged.
They collided violently.
Fists flew. Shoes scraped against concrete. Xin Ying fought with everything she had—rage, fear, love fueling every strike.
But Ling Zhihao was stronger.
A sharp kick slammed into Xin Ying's chest.
She crashed to her knees, breath knocked from her lungs.
No… no…!
Stand up!
Xin Ying forced herself to rise, vision blurring as she threw another punch.
Ling Zhihao caught it effortlessly.
He twisted.
Crack.
A scream tore from Xin Ying's throat as pain exploded up her arm. She collapsed, tears streaming down her face, clutching her broken limb.
Ling Zhihao loomed over her, satisfied.
He turned to Zhi Han.
"So," he said calmly, "what will it be, Zhi Han?"
He tightened his grip on Xin Ying's arm just enough to make her cry out.
"You…" he said softly, dangerously, "or your little bodyguard's life?"
Zhi Han froze.
Her heart shattered as she looked at Xin Ying—on her knees, in pain, still trying to stand for her.
Fate had returned.
And once again, it demanded a choice.
---
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