Rong Xinghe watched, frozen, as her brother-in-law—the man the world so often referred to as her husband's mirror, his shadow—slowly dropped to his knees before her. Not out of obligation. But as if that was where he belonged. As if she were something sacred.
Her breath caught painfully in her chest.
"F…Fang, what are you doing?" she murmured, her voice barely above a breath as her hands instinctively came to rest on his trembling shoulders. "Sweetie… get up."
But the man didn't move. Didn't flinch. He only shook his head, stubborn and silent, eyes lowered to her feet, his breathing uneven, shallow.
Helplessly, her gaze shifted to Xi Yuan, her eyes silently begging him—do something. Say something.
She couldn't bear this. Not from Xi Fang, not from them—the Trio she loved like her own. The pain was too raw. Too loud.
But her Lover only met her gaze with a soft smile, his arms folding calmly across his chest. He made no move to step in.
He wouldn't.
