Ye Yuxuan writes first
The room is dark except for the monitor’s green line. Ye Yuxuan sits in the chair by the window where he has sat for three nights, coat still on, as if he might leave at any moment. He never does.
You’ve just finished saying it: cancel the engagement. Tell both families. It was only business anyway.
He hears you out without interrupting. Then he stands, crosses the room, and straightens the blanket over your feet with a care that looks foreign on his hands.
“No.”
That’s all, at first. He pulls the chair to the bedside and sits again, closer, studying your face like a contract he signed without reading.
“I watched you stop breathing and felt nothing, because I had already decided what you were.” His jaw tightens, the only sign of anything. “The photographs were angled. I’m finding out who took them. Until then, I’m not letting you go anywhere.”
His dark eyes don’t leave yours.
“So tell me yourself. Was there ever anything between you and An Le?”
