When Shen Niannian’s consciousness finally surfaced from the endless darkness, the first thing she felt was pain.
Not physical pain.
It was a dull ache seeping from the very marrow of her bones, impossible to describe—as if someone were carving into her heart over and over again with a rusted knife.
She opened her eyes.
The ceiling above her was white. The overhead light was off, and a faint sliver of dawn filtered through the gap in the curtains. The humidifier on the nightstand hummed softly, and the room carried the familiar scent of lavender laundry detergent.
It was her bedroom.
The room she had lived in for twenty-one years.
The room from before the apocalypse.
Tears burst from Shen Niannian’s eyes.
They didn’t trickle down—they came flooding out like a dam that had broken.
She bit her lip hard, trying to suppress the sobs, but broken cries still escaped her throat. All the fear, regret, and despair she had buried over the course of her previous life finally found an outlet.
She cried until her entire body trembled, curling beneath the blanket like a drowning person clutching at the last piece of driftwood, desperately gripping the jade pendant resting against her chest.
The pendant was warm.
The memories of her previous life were painfully vivid.
She could still remember the blood pouring from Lu Chenzhou’s severed arm.
She could still remember the warmth of his body as he leaned against her shoulder and whispered,
“Brother can’t protect you anymore.”
She could still remember the agonizing pain of her body being torn apart as she detonated the spatial dimension.
Yet…
She was alive.
The jade pendant had brought her back.
Footsteps hurried down the hallway outside.
“Miss? Miss, what’s wrong?”
It was the butler, his voice filled with panic.
The doorknob turned twice before he finally knocked cautiously.
“Miss, are you awake? Did you have a nightmare?”
Shen Niannian couldn’t answer.
She opened her mouth, but it felt as though something was lodged in her throat. Only more muffled sobs came out.
The butler became increasingly anxious. He turned and said something to someone nearby.
She couldn’t hear the words.
But she knew.
He would go find Lu Chenzhou.
It had always been like this.
Whenever she had nightmares, fell sick, or encountered any trouble, the butler’s first call was always to Lu Chenzhou.
No matter if it was two in the morning or if he was in the middle of an important meeting, that man would always drop everything and rush back to her.
Back then, she’d taken it for granted.
She had even found him annoying.
Why is he always hovering around me?
Now, thinking back on it…
She wanted nothing more than to slap herself.
Less than ten minutes later, the sound of a car engine cutting off echoed from downstairs.
Then came hurried footsteps taking the stairs two and three at a time.
Lu Chenzhou appeared in the doorway.
He wore black lounge clothes, his hair slightly disheveled as though he’d climbed straight out of bed. His breathing was uneven, a fine sheen of sweat covering his forehead. He had obviously run all the way here.
The moment he saw the figure curled up on the bed, his pupils contracted.
She was crying so hard that her entire body was shaking.
His fingers clenched tightly at his sides before slowly loosening again, the knuckles turning white.
He wanted to rush over and pull her into his arms.
But he didn’t dare.
The last few times he’d tried to get close to her, she’d frowned and instinctively moved away.
“…Niannian?”
His deep voice was cautious, almost tentative.
Shen Niannian lifted her tear-streaked face and looked toward the doorway.
There he stood.
One meter eighty-eight tall.
Cold, restrained, and devastatingly handsome.
The old scar on his left wrist peeked out from beneath the sleeve of his dark pajamas.
His features looked as though they had been carved by a sculptor—sharp brows, a straight nose, thin lips pressed into a tight line, and a perfectly defined jaw.
His skin was pale against the black fabric, making him look like the last snowfall of winter.
But his eyes…
His eyes weren’t cold.
Those deep brown eyes reflected only her.
Gentle.
Restrained.
Filled with the silent hesitation of someone who desperately wanted to approach but didn’t dare.
His fingers trembled faintly, as though every ounce of self-control was being used to stop himself from running over and embracing her.
In her previous life…
She had pushed him away beneath that very same gaze.
For two years, the words she had said to him most often were:
“Stay away from me.”
“Don’t touch me.”
“You disgust me.”
He never argued.
He simply stepped back.
Far enough for her to feel safe.
Far enough to stand against the wall.
Far enough to retreat into the shadows.
Far enough that even wiping away her tears required hesitation.
Her tears flowed even harder.
Lu Chenzhou remained where he was, his fingers curling slightly as though suppressing something.
His voice became even softer.
“Did you have a nightmare?”
Just those few words…
And Shen Niannian completely broke down.
She jumped off the bed barefoot and ran straight into his arms.
Lu Chenzhou froze.
Her body pressed tightly against his.
Through the thin fabric of his pajamas, he could feel her warmth.
Her heartbeat.
The trembling of her body as she sobbed.
Her hair brushed beneath his chin, carrying the sweet fragrance of her shampoo.
His mind went blank.
It had been…
So long.
So very long since she had hugged him like this.
His hands hovered awkwardly in the air, fingers trembling.
He wanted to hold her tightly.
To pull her into his very bones.
To tell her how much he had missed her.
How terrified he had been of losing her.
But he didn’t dare.
He was afraid that the moment he tightened his embrace…
She would shove him away again and tell him to stay away.
At last, his hands slowly came down.
One rested gently against her back.
His movements were unbelievably careful, as though using even the slightest bit of force might frighten her away.
Yet his fingertips trembled uncontrollably.
Not from the cold.
From restraint.
“Niannian…”
He called her name again, his voice even lower.
“What happened?
Tell your brother.”
Shen Niannian buried her face against his chest, crying until she could barely breathe.
Her hands clutched desperately at the front of his shirt, her fingers turning white as though she feared he would disappear the instant she let go.
Lu Chenzhou stopped asking questions.
One arm wrapped securely around her waist while the other gently patted her back, comforting her the same way he had when she was little and cried after falling down.
His palm rested against her back, feeling every fragile ridge of her spine.
She had grown thinner.
His fingers unconsciously traced lightly across her back before stopping himself.
His chin rested atop her head.
He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply.
Sweet.
He closed his eyes, engraving that scent into his memory…
Just as he had done countless times before.
Shen Niannian cried for a very long time.
By the end, her voice had turned hoarse, leaving only broken hiccupping sobs.
Her tears soaked a large patch of his shirt.
He never moved away.
Never urged her to stop.
He simply held her steadily, like an unmoving mountain.
Eventually, exhaustion overtook her.
Her body softened as she leaned against him, her swollen eyes barely able to open.
Lu Chenzhou lowered his gaze to her face.
His brows furrowed faintly.
Not from impatience.
From concern.
Her eyelids were swollen nearly shut.
The corners of her eyes were red.
The tip of her nose was red.
Her entire face looked pitiful and fragile.
He knew how much she cared about her appearance.
Before every outing, she would spend ages in front of the mirror choosing clothes, styling her hair, matching accessories—even debating which earrings to wear.
Once, a single pimple had appeared on her face, and she’d sighed in front of the mirror all day.
If she woke up and saw how swollen her eyes were now…
She’d probably cry again.
Carefully, Lu Chenzhou helped her sit on the bed before heading into the bathroom.
He took a clean towel from the rack, soaked it in warm water, wrung it dry, and folded it neatly.
Returning to her bedside, he knelt before her.
“Close your eyes.”
She obediently complied.
The warm towel settled gently over her eyelids.
The temperature was perfect—not too hot, not too cool.
His movements were slow and gentle as he lightly pressed from the corners of her eyes outward.
As though handling something impossibly fragile.
Occasionally, his fingertips brushed her temples.
He would pause briefly, as though feeling her pulse…
Or savoring the warmth of her skin.
Fresh tears welled in Shen Niannian’s eyes.
But this time…
They weren’t from sorrow.
She remembered.
In her previous life, after every time she cried, her eyes were never terribly swollen the next morning.
She had always assumed it was simply because she recovered quickly.
Only now did she realize…
While she slept…
He had been applying warm compresses to her eyes over and over again.
There had been so many things she never knew.
She never knew he secretly kept her hair ties because he feared that one day she would leave, and he wanted something to prove she had once been there.
She never knew he carefully stored every note she’d written because they were among the few things she had ever willingly given him.
She never knew how long the light had disappeared from his eyes after he quietly answered, “Okay. I’ll go.”
She never knew how many nights he spent smoking alone on the balcony of the neighboring villa…
Watching her bedroom window.
“Brother…”
Her voice was hoarse.
“Hm.”
“I had a very long dream.”
His hand paused briefly before continuing the warm compress.
His gaze lingered over her face—from her eyelashes to her nose, then to her lips.
It stopped there for a moment before quietly shifting away.
“What did you dream about?”
She remained silent for several seconds.
How could she tell him?
That it wasn’t a dream.
That it had all truly happened.
That he had lost both his arms for her.
That he had bled to death before her eyes.
That everything had happened because she had feared he would become a murderer and left him.
“I dreamed…”
She whispered.
“…that you abandoned me.”
Lu Chenzhou’s fingers tightened.
The towel nearly slipped from his hand before he steadied it.
“I never will.”
His voice was low.
Steady.
Certain.
“Your brother will never abandon you.”
What he truly wanted to say was:
You’re the one who abandoned me.
You’re the one who told me to leave.
You’re the one who said all those words that shattered my heart.
But I will never abandon you.
Not ever.
He said none of it.
When the towel cooled, he replaced it with another warm one.
Again.
And again.
Three or four times.
Only after the swelling had gone down considerably did he finally stop.
“Your eyes shouldn’t be too swollen tomorrow morning,” he said softly. “There may still be a little puffiness. Should I ask the butler to prepare an ice pack?”
Shen Niannian shook her head.
Instead, she reached out and grasped the corner of his shirt.
“Stay with me.”
Her voice was tiny.
Dependent.
“Don’t leave.”
Lu Chenzhou stared at the fingers clutching his shirt.
His gaze darkened.
It had been so long…
Since she’d willingly approached him.
Since she’d spoken to him like this.
Since she’d looked at him with eyes that said,
“I need you.”
He didn’t know what had suddenly changed.
Nor did he dare ask.
He feared that if he did…
She would remember.
Remember that she was supposed to avoid him.
Supposed to keep her distance.
Supposed to look at him with disgust.
“…All right.”
“I won’t leave.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed rather than climbing onto it, leaning against the headboard so she could rest beside him.
She frowned slightly.
Not satisfied.
Scooting farther in, she patted the empty space beside her.
“Lie down.”
He hesitated…
Then obeyed.
The instant he lay down, Shen Niannian snuggled against him.
She buried her face in the hollow of his neck, wrapped both arms tightly around his waist, and curled into him like a kitten finally returning home.
Lu Chenzhou’s entire body stiffened once more.
Her warm breaths brushed against his collarbone.
Her fingers rested lightly against his waist.
Every nerve in his body screamed.
He wanted to roll over and pin her beneath him.
He wanted to kiss her.
To do all the things he had only ever dared imagine in countless dreams.
He did none of them.
After a long moment, he slowly relaxed.
His arm came around her shoulders, his fingertips gently stroking them once before forcing himself to stop.
Her hair brushed beneath his chin.
He lowered his head, inhaling the sweet floral scent lingering in it.
He closed his eyes.
Engraving it into his memory.
“Brother…”
She murmured drowsily.
“Hm?”
“You’ll always stay with me…”
“…Won’t you?”
He was silent for two seconds.
“I will.”
His voice was soft.
But unwavering.
“Your brother will always be here.”
She didn’t answer.
She had already fallen asleep.
After crying herself into exhaustion, she drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep in his embrace.
Lu Chenzhou didn’t sleep.
He lowered his head and quietly watched her sleeping face.
Her eyelashes still held tiny droplets of tears.
Her nose was slightly red.
Her lips were gently pouted.
She slept without any defenses…
Like a child.
He watched her for a very long time.
His gaze moved from her forehead…
To her brows…
To her nose…
And finally rested on her lips.
He couldn’t look away.
Her lips were a pale pink, slightly parted with soft, even breaths escaping them.
He suddenly remembered a long-forgotten afternoon.
She had been fourteen, asleep in the courtyard.
He had stood nearby, watching her for a long time.
He’d wanted to kiss her.
He hadn’t dared.
Now she was asleep once more.
He wanted to kiss her again.
He still didn’t dare.
Very gently, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
His fingertips brushed against her soft, warm ear.
He paused.
Then slowly traced down the delicate curve of her jaw…
Only to stop again.
His hand hovered beneath her chin.
Never touching.
After a long while, he withdrew it.
His fingers curled tightly into a fist at his side, the knuckles white from the force of his restraint.
He thought of the things hidden away in his drawer.
One of her old hair ties.
The elastic had long since stretched out.
The day he’d found it, he’d held it tightly in his hand for a long time.
A cup she had once used.
A faint lipstick stain still marked its rim.
He had never washed it.
Instead, he’d hidden it in the deepest corner of a cabinet.
A small note she’d casually left behind:
“Brother, I’m not coming home for dinner tonight.”
The handwriting was crooked and uneven.
He had folded it into a tiny square and kept it inside his wallet for three years.
He wasn’t a pervert.
He was simply…
Too afraid of losing her.
So afraid that he needed pieces of her around him just to convince himself…
That she had existed.
That she was still here.
That she hadn’t completely left him.
Now…
She was right there in his arms.
Warm.
Soft.
Real.
Outside, dawn gradually broke.
For the first time in a long while…
He felt sleepy.
Not because he wasn’t exhausted.
But because she was here.
She lay in his embrace, her breathing brushing lightly against his collarbone, her arms wrapped securely around his waist.
During the years when she avoided him, he had rarely slept through the night.
He would sit alone on the balcony, staring at the light in her bedroom window.
Even after the light went out…
He kept watching.
But now…
She was in his arms.
He closed his eyes.
Resting his chin lightly atop her head, he tightened his embrace ever so slightly.
That night…
He finally slept deeply.