Chapter 213: The Quiet Lines

*Runze’s POV*

By the time I reach the ground floor, the rich, savory scent of slow-simmered chicken congee, flaky sesame pancakes, and freshly brewed jasmine tea drifts warmly down the dining hallway.

Behind me, the quick, uneven thud of Bael’s footsteps hurries to close the distance. He catches up right as I reach the archway, looking thoroughly unraveled.

He hovers a few inches away, his hands twitching slightly at his sides. He looks like he wants to say something, but every time his eyes meet mine, he seems to think better of it.

Inside the dining room, everyone has already finished eating.

Ling Yue is currently leaning over the long table, stacking a couple of small side plates together. Before he can lift them, Mrs. Wen swats his hands away with a gentle, scolding flick of her wrist.

"Leave those be, Young Master Ling," Mrs. Wen says, gesturing for two maids to hurry forward with trays. "If the Young Master sees you clearing dishes, he’ll think I’m neglecting our guest."

"Oh, please, Mrs. Wen," Ling Yue laughs, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender. "I’m perfectly capable of carrying two saucers to the kitchen!"

Seeing him smile like that, hearing that familiar liveliness creeping back into his voice, loosens a knot in my chest I hadn’t realized was there.

At the head of the table, Grandmother sets down her teacup, the porcelain meeting the saucer with a crisp clink. She folds her morning news pamphlet in half, her gaze passing over me before settling on Bael’s unusually stiff posture.

"About time," she hums, setting the paper down.

I smile wider, stepping further into the room. "Good morning, Grandmother. We slept a little late."

"Good morning, Young Master, Mr. Wuchen," Mrs. Wen greets with a warm bow, immediately turning to the kitchen staff. "Go heat up the soup and bring out the hot dishes."

Ling Yue turns around at my voice. His eyes sweep over my face, taking in my relaxed posture before flicking briefly to Bael standing behind me.

"Did you sleep well?" I ask, pulling out a chair across from him. "Was the room comfortable?"

"I slept like a log," Ling Yue answers, pulling his chair back in to sit down. "The mattress in your guest wing is ridiculously soft."

"Good," I reply with a soft laugh, setting my glass down. "Mrs. Wen picked out those feather pillows personally. I was worried you’d find the wing too quiet after living in the center of the city."

"Quiet is exactly what I needed," Ling Yue murmurs, a small, genuine smile touching his lips.

Bael gives Ling Yue a brief, polite nod before sitting beside me.

He says nothing. But I can feel his eyes on me.

Every few seconds, his gaze drifts toward my face, as though he’s still trying to understand everything I said upstairs.

I deliberately keep my eyes on Ling Yue, offering Bael no verbal acknowledgment—though under the tablecloth, my hand slides down to rest against his thigh, my fingers giving his leg a slow, reassuring squeeze.

I feel Bael’s muscle tense, then loosen slightly under my palm.

Across the table, Ling Yue tilts his head, sending me a subtle eyebrow flash and a pointed look toward Bael, silently asking:

*Did you two fix things?*

I keep my smile steady and give him a small, definitive nod.

Ling Yue’s eyes dart between us. Seeing Bael’s tense posture and the way he keeps his gaze glued to me while I casually sip my water, Ling Yue looks slightly doubtful—clearly wondering if Bael is still on thin ice. I just squeeze Bael’s knee again under the table, letting a faint chuckle stay hidden behind my cup.

***

After breakfast, Bael retreats to his home office on the second floor to handle Wuchen Group matters remotely for the day.

I take Ling Yue up to the study at the end of the hall, where the morning light pours in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the long wooden desk scattered with my sketchbook and tablet.

"You look much better today," I say softly, sitting down behind the desk and booting up my laptop while Ling Yue curls up on the wide leather armchair nearby.

"It’s the atmosphere here," Ling Yue sighs, resting his chin on his palm as he looks out at the courtyard garden below. "Good food, Mrs. Wen pampering me, and no one hovering over my head."

"You’re welcome to stay as long as you need," I tell him warmly.

I open my inbox. As expected, a handful of replies have come through following my general email from yesterday.

I skim through them systematically:

The first reply is from a firm I’ve heard of, they want me to join as a senior partner.

I mark it for later.

The second is a direct commission from a commercial developer. The project sounds interesting enough that I open the attached brief and skim through the preliminary requirements.

Then there’s a smaller client asking whether their budget is compatible with my design style.

That one makes me smile.

At least someone is being honest about money.

The last proposal makes me pause for an entirely different reason.

Jun Holdings.

A joint architecture studio.

As I’m sorting through the priorities, my phone vibrates on the desk.

It’s a message from Mrs. Zhou.

Mrs. Zhou: *Runze, have you heard from Ling Yue? His phone is completely turned off now. I’m getting really worried.*

I pause, looking over the top of my screen at Ling Yue.

"Ling Yue," I say, drawing his attention away from the window. "Did you turn your phone off?"

"Yeah." He taps his fingers against the armrest. "Shut it down last night."

I hold up my phone. "Mrs. Zhou has been messaging me constantly. She’s worried because she can’t reach you at all. Can I at least let her know you’re safe with me?"

Ling Yue’s fingers stop moving. For a moment, the easy expression from breakfast disappears.

"You can tell her I’m fine," he says after a pause. "Just... don’t tell her where I am."

I nod.

"That’s all I’ll say."

I type a brief reply to Mrs. Zhou, letting her know that Ling Yue is safe and simply needs some space, then place my phone face-down on the desk.

The room falls quiet again.

Ling Yue draws his knees up onto the armchair and rests his chin against them, staring out at the courtyard.

"He called me." His voice is quieter now.

I close my laptop halfway.

"Jin Hao?"

"Mm." Ling Yue exhales through his nose, a humorless little breath. "Right after the news went public. He asked if I’d seen it."

"I said yes." His fingers curl around the edge of his sleeve. "Then he told me it was true. He really is getting engaged to Tang Suyi."

My hand stills on the laptop.

"He said it was for business. A merger. Six months, that’s all." Ling Yue gives a small shrug. "He said he’d break it off after six months."

I wait.

"And then he told me nothing between us had to change."

For a moment, I don’t know what to say to that.

Ling Yue’s gaze remains fixed on the courtyard.

"He told me Tang Suyi would be his public fiancee, while I was the person he was actually with."

His mouth twists into a faint, incredulous smile.

"Two different things, apparently."

Something tightens quietly inside my chest.

"...What did you tell him?"

"Nothing." The answer comes so simply that I almost think I misheard him.

Ling Yue finally looks at me.

"What was I supposed to say?"

He rubs beneath one eye, visibly irritated when his fingers come away wet.

"He wasn’t asking me what I thought, Runze. He was explaining why I should be okay with it."

That makes me go quiet.

"So I just ended the call." His voice is steady, but his fingers are trembling slightly now. "I went upstairs, packed my things, and left his place."

"...You didn’t argue with him?"

"What’s there to argue about?"

His hands settle between his knees, fingers twisting together.

"He’d already decided what he wanted." His voice is quiet. "I just decided what I was willing to accept."

For a moment, I can only look at him. Then his expression crumples slightly.

"I love him, Runze. I really do."

Ling Yue swallows hard. His eyes stay fixed on his hands, but his breathing has gone uneven. He blinks once, twice, trying to clear the sudden wetness gathering in his eyes.

"But I can’t do that."

The last few words come out barely above a whisper. He looks down at his hands.

"I can’t be the person he keeps behind closed doors while someone else gets to stand beside him in public."

A tear slips down his cheek.

"If he wants that engagement, then fine. He can have it." He wipes his face quickly, frustrated with himself. "But he doesn’t get to keep me too."

I stare at him for a long moment.

The grief is obvious. So is the decision. He isn’t asking me whether he should go back, he already knows what he wants.

Slowly, I push my chair back. I walk around the desk and lower myself carefully onto the edge of the armchair beside him.

Ling Yue looks up at me, his eyes already red from holding everything back.

I don’t tell him to stop loving Jin Hao, I don’t tell him he’ll find someone better.

There isn’t anything useful I can say to make this hurt less.

So I simply reach out and pull him into my arms.

He goes still for half a heartbeat. Then he folds against me. A shaky breath leaves him, followed by another.

His fingers clutch the back of my shirt as the tears finally come.

I tighten my arms around him.

"You don’t have to stop loving him just because you chose yourself," I murmur.

His shoulders tremble against me.

"You made your choice, Ling Yue. And you have every right to stand by it."

He presses his face against my shoulder. For a while, neither of us says anything.

I simply hold him until his breathing gradually begins to settle.

*Click.*

The sound of the study door unlatching cuts through the quiet room.

Ling Yue and I pull back slightly, both of us turning our heads toward the entrance.

Standing in the doorway is Bael, holding his tablet in one hand.

He stands completely still.

Bael’s gaze moves from Ling Yue’s tear-streaked face to my arms around him.

His expression changes. Not anger exactly. Something far more restrained—and somehow more dangerous.

He clears his throat.

"Can I... work here?"