CHAPTER 117 — Night of Unspoken Promises
The Mu estate was quiet that evening—so quiet it felt like the entire world finally decided to exhale after weeks of storms. The lights were dim, the hallways warm, the rain outside soft instead of violent.
For the first time since Rui's kidnapping, peace felt…reachable.
But Shi Yunxi didn't feel it yet.
She stood on the balcony outside her room, wrapped in Lingchen's oversized jacket, watching the raindrops scatter across the garden lanterns.
Her hair fluttered softly in the night breeze. Her hands gripped the railing just a bit too tightly.
Behind her, the sliding door opened.
Footsteps.
Soft, careful, familiar.
"Yunxi."
She didn't turn. "They're asleep?"
"All three," Lingchen said, his voice warm despite the exhaustion lingering at its edges. "Rui fell asleep holding my shirt. Yichen demanded you kiss his forehead twice. And Qing'er made me braid her hair again."
Yunxi finally smiled, faint and tired.
"My babies…"
"Our babies," Lingchen corrected gently.
That simple correction still sent a tremor through her chest every time she heard it.
Lingchen approached slowly, giving her time to move away if she wanted.
She didn't.
He stood beside her, resting his arms on the railing as he watched the rain with her.
"You haven't been sleeping," he murmured.
"I have," she lied.
"Yunxi," he said softly.
She sighed. "I try. I close my eyes. I tell myself Rui is safe, that the Shi family can't reach us anymore… but my mind won't calm."
A pause.
Lingchen didn't say "It's fine," or "You'll be okay," or any other empty comfort.
Instead, he said:
"You're allowed to be scared."
That broke something in her.
Yunxi's hands shook slightly where they rested on the cold metal.
"I wasn't supposed to break," she whispered. "I'm their mother. They depend on me. I'm supposed to protect them."
"You did," Lingchen said firmly.
She shook her head. "Not enough. Rui—"
"Rui survived because of you," Lingchen cut in, voice low but fierce. "You tracked him. You kept us calm. You gave him strength to hold on. You saved him before I ever reached him."
Yunxi swallowed hard. "But he fell… he cried… and I wasn't there."
Lingchen exhaled and turned her gently to face him.
His eyes—warm, steady—searched hers.
"Yunxi," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, "you are not a god. You can't prevent every hurt. What matters is that when our son needed you, you tore the world apart to find him."
Her lips trembled. "It still wasn't enough."
Lingchen's voice deepened, full of emotion he rarely showed.
"It was enough for him. And for me."
Silence swelled between them, heavy and tender.
The rain softened.
A light breeze swept over the balcony, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the garden below. Yunxi's heartbeat slowed. Her shoulders loosened. Her breath steadied.
Lingchen watched her healing like he'd been waiting all his life for it.
"Yunxi," he said suddenly, voice dropping to something almost vulnerable, "you don't have to be strong alone anymore."
Her breath caught.
"M-Lingchen…"
"Let me carry some of it," he whispered. "Let me worry for you. Let me protect you. Let me stand beside you—not behind you or in front of you—but with you."
Yunxi closed her eyes as tears gathered again—but these tears felt lighter.
Hopeful.
She whispered, "I'm afraid."
"Of me?" he asked quietly.
"No," she said, opening her eyes. "Of needing you."
Lingchen's chest tightened.
He stepped closer—slow, patient, giving her every chance to pull away.
But Yunxi didn't move.
She couldn't.
Not when he looked at her like that—like she was both fragile and unbreakable, wounded and invincible, the woman he cherished and the mother of his child.
"Yunxi," he murmured, gently taking her hand, "you've stood alone for so long you forgot what it feels like to lean on someone."
His fingers tightened around hers.
"Lean on me."
Yunxi inhaled shakily. Her heart warred between instinct and longing.
But then Lingchen raised her hand and pressed it to his chest—over his heartbeat.
It thudded strong.
Steady.
Solid.
"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered.
Her breath trembled, and the words escaped her before she could catch them:
"I don't want you to go."
Lingchen froze.
Then—
Slowly—
A small, relieved smile curved his lips. A smile filled with warmth and aching tenderness.
He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.
"Then I won't."
The rain continued its gentle rhythm. The lanterns flickered softly. And for the first time in years, Yunxi felt a strange, foreign sensation settle inside her chest—
Safety.
Real, solid, shattering safety.
She leaned into him.
Lingchen wrapped his arms around her instantly, holding her as though she was something precious he finally had permission to touch.
Yunxi closed her eyes and rested her head against his heart.
The storm inside her finally quieted.
After a long moment, she whispered, "Lingchen?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"Always," he said softly.
No grand declarations.
No dramatic promises.
Just two people, tired but healing, holding each other in the quiet rain.
Tonight, it was enough.
Tomorrow, they would continue to rebuild.
Together.