Chapter 194: The News

*Runze’s POV*

The words refuse to change no matter how many times I blink.

No matter how many times I swipe my thumb across the screen to scroll back to the top.

They stay exactly the same.

**Heir to DingShan Real Estate, Jin Hao, announces engagement to Tang Group’s Sole Heir, Tang Suyi.**

My fingers tighten around my phone until my knuckles turn white.

"...No..."

The whisper slips out of my throat before I even realize I’ve spoken.

The cool afternoon breeze continues drifting through the eastern garden, softly rustling the wide maple leaves overhead. Clear water trickles gently from the stone fountain into the round basin below.

Everything around me remains peaceful.

Only my heartbeat doesn’t.

My thumb moves on its own, scrolling further down the page.

Photographs appear under the text.

One photo shows Jin Hao stepping out of a car, leaving a corporate meeting. Another shows Tang Suyi at a charity event.

No engagement banquet. No matching rings. No picture of them standing together as a couple.

There are only article after article repeating the exact same corporate phrases.

*Corporate alliance.*

*Strategic partnership.*

*Union between two prominent families.*

My thumb trembles against the screen.

It doesn’t make any sense. Jin Hao and Ling Yue are together.

Whenever Ling Yue talked about Jin Hao, his face would light up, unable to hide how happy he was. And back at the presentation, when I saw them standing together, I remember the way Jin Hao looked at him, quietly attentive, as if Ling Yue was the only person in the room.

It looked so real. It felt like Jin Hao cared about Ling Yue just as much as Ling Yue cared about him.

None of it aligns with a sudden engagement to someone else.

I tap Mrs. Zhou’s name at the top of my recent messages.

She answers before the second ring finishes.

"Runze?"

Her voice comes through the speaker fast, tight with worry.

"...Mrs. Zhou."

"Did Ling Yue speak to you?" she asks immediately. "Did he say anything before this came out?"

I sit frozen on the stone bench, the cool air settling over my skin. "...No. Did he call you?"

I hear Mrs. Zhou let out a heavy breath on the other end.

"...No," she says, her tone dropping. "I’ve been calling his cell phone since I saw the news. It just goes straight to voicemail."

I press the phone tighter against my ear, lowering my gaze to the stone path beneath my shoes.

"...I haven’t tried calling him yet," I admit.

"Try if you want," she sighs, "but I don’t think he’s picking up for anyone right now. He’s probably completely overwhelmed."

"When was the last time you two spoke?" she asks after a moment.

"Three or four days ago," I say, remembering our brief text check-in. "Just a quick message. He sounded fine, he didn’t mention anything about Jin Hao or his family."

"I keep thinking about that day we ran into each other," she says, her voice low. "He was so happy that day, laughing about Jin Hao. He didn’t seem like someone who had any idea this was coming."

I close my eyes, letting her words sink in.

I think back to the video call that day, Ling Yue teasing me, his easy laugh filling the speaker, his face lit up the way it always is when he’s happy.

If Ling Yue has seen this already... I can’t even begin to imagine what he’s feeling. Whether this is some corporate arrangement or a betrayal I don’t understand, it must have hurt so much.

"...Mrs. Zhou."

"Hm?"

"The article says Jin Hao announced it..." I hesitate, my voice barely carrying over the breeze. "...Do you think he actually did?"

She falls quiet for a few seconds, the distant hum of city traffic rustling on her end.

"I don’t know," she answers honestly, sounding thoroughly troubled. "I haven’t seen any video clip, interview, or personal statement from Jin Hao himself. Every news outlet is running the exact same text word-for-word. It looks like a statement put out directly by the families’ corporate PR teams."

I lower my gaze, listening as she lets out a low sigh.

"From everything Ling Yue’s said, Jin Hao really cares about him," Mrs. Zhou adds quietly. "It’s hard to imagine him doing something like this on purpose. But even if the family forced this out... Ling Yue is the one taking the blow right now."

"...I know," I whisper.

"I even tried reaching out to Ling Yue’s older brother to see if Ling Yue went home to his family," Mrs. Zhou sighs softly.

I lift my head, looking toward the garden path. "...His brother?"

"Mm. He works overseas, but when he replied, he said he couldn’t reach Ling Yue either. He had no idea what was happening."

A quiet weight settles in my chest.

Ling Yue has an older brother... and I didn’t even know.

It hits me all at once how little I actually know about his life.

Ling Yue is always the first one to call me, the first one to send a message, checking in to see how I’m doing. But I’ve spent so much time being the one looked after that I never truly stopped to ask him about his own family or what he carries on his own.

"I’ll keep trying him," Mrs. Zhou says, breaking into my thoughts. "If he answers me, I’ll call you right away."

"...Thank you. I’ll do the same."

The call ends, and I finally bring the phone down from my ear.

I stare at Ling Yue’s name on my recent contacts. My thumb hovers over the screen for a second before I press call.

I lift the phone back to my ear, listening as it rings.

Once.

Twice.

Three times, before it cuts abruptly to his voicemail greeting.

I slowly lower the phone back to my lap, the silence of the garden closing in around me.

I open our chat history, scrolling upward through page after page of messages. Almost every thread starts the same way—a ridiculous meme from him, a quick check-in asking if I’d eaten, or a barrage of dramatic texts complaining about his workload.

*Make sure you rest today.*

*Did you take your vitamins?*

*Call me when you’re free!*

He was always reaching out, always filling the space between us with easy conversation. Yet in all those months, I can’t find a single conversation where he talked about himself. Not a single word about his brother, his parents, or the pressure sitting on his shoulders.

I close the chat screen, locking the phone and clutching it tightly against my knee.

The sun drops lower behind the trees, casting long shadows across the stone paths.

Unable to just sit here, I unlock my phone again. I go back to his name at the top of my call log and tap it, pressing the phone back against my ear.

I listen to the dull, steady tone ringing in my ear.

Four rings... five rings... before the line abruptly cuts off, leaving me with the same automated recording.

"Come on, Ling Yue... pick up," I murmur to myself.

I immediately press redial, holding the phone tighter against my ear. My heart beats fast against my ribs as I wait through the endless, empty tones.

It goes straight to voicemail again.

I let my hand fall back into my lap, the screen dimming in my palm.

Ling Yue is always so lively, so easy to reach, and quick to reply to anything. For him to ignore my calls without even sending a single message back can only mean that whatever he’s feeling right now, he isn’t ready to face anyone yet.

A familiar engine hum reaches my ears from the front gate, breaking through the quiet.

A sleek black sedan turns slowly through the entrance, its tires crunching against the driveway before coming to a stop near the front steps.

Bael is home.

I stand up from the stone bench, holding my phone tight in my hand, and head down the garden path toward the main entrance.

By the time I step up to the walkway, the rear passenger door opens.

Bael steps out, dressed in a light blue button-down shirt paired with a long black coat that drapes over his tall frame. In his hand, he carries a simple paper bag from the bakery in town—the ginger biscuits I like so much.

The moment he turns and sees me waiting for him by the stairs, the cool composure on his face subtly lightens.

The heavy knot in my chest softens just looking at him.

I step closer and reach for him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. Bael settles his arm around my waist, pulling me close against his side.

"Welcome home," I whisper against his shoulder.

"I’m home," Bael replies, his voice low and steady against my ear.

When I pull back, I don’t hesitate. I lean in and press a brief, warm kiss to his lips—completely ignoring the driver standing by the open car door, the guards near the gate, and the maids waiting inside the hall.

Bael freezes for a fraction of a second, caught entirely off guard. A subtle shade of red creeps up to the tips of his ears as he stares down at me, clearly not expecting me to be so bold out in the open.

A small smile touches my lips. I take his hand, lacing my fingers through his, and guide him up the steps into the house together.