The first thing Li Zeyan noticed was the absence of pain.
Then the weight of warmth.
He stirred slowly, his body heavy with fatigue but no longer burning. The fever had broken.
And yet, something lingered, something unfamiliar.
A presence.
His eyes opened to the filtered light seeping through the curtains. The room smelled faintly of medicine, but also of something softer. Something… floral.
Then he heard it.
The soft sound of breathing. Steady. Calm. Barely audible.
His gaze shifted.
She was there.
Sitting in the chair by the window, back straight, hands folded neatly over her lap. As if she were waiting for nothing. Expecting nothing.
Xu Meilin.
Her eyes were closed, but she wasn't asleep. She looked… still. As though even in her rest, she carried a thousand invisible weights.
A strange pang echoed in his chest.
He didn't like it.
He was supposed to be alone. That's how he had always liked it. Controlled. Predictable. Cold.
And yet here she was.
Not speaking. Not complaining. Not crying or demanding. Just… there.
He remembered fragments from the night before. Burning heat. The way his body had betrayed him. The pain. The restlessness. The soft, cool cloth dabbing his forehead.
And a voice.
Her voice.
Low. Gentle. Distant, but steady.
"Just rest… it's alright. I'm here."
Why had she stayed?
She had every reason not to. He hadn't shown up at their wedding. Hadn't spoken to her since she arrived. Had made it clear she was just a name on paper.
But she had stayed.
Without permission. Without complaint. Without expectation.
He shifted slightly, and she opened her eyes.
Dark eyes. Quiet, like a midnight sea.
Their gazes met.
Neither of them spoke.
She didn't rush to him. Didn't smile that practiced smile.
She simply looked at him.
And in that moment, he realized something deeply unsettling.
He didn't know how to read her.
Li Zeyan could read anyone, investors, enemies, women, politicians. One glance, one word, and he'd know exactly where they stood.
But her?
She was a locked door.
And worse, he found himself wanting to knock.
Not out of desire.
But curiosity.
Dangerous, quiet curiosity.
"Why?" he asked, his voice hoarse from disuse.
She tilted her head, not understanding.
"Why did you stay?" he said again, his tone sharper now. As if trying to mask the vulnerability in the question.
She blinked slowly. Then said in a voice barely above a whisper, "Because someone had to."
His jaw tightened.
He didn't like the answer. It made him feel… indebted. Human.
"I didn't ask you to," he muttered.
She nodded. "I know."
Silence again.
Thick. Strange.
He looked away first.
"Get some rest," she said gently, rising from the chair. "You're still recovering."
She turned to leave, and his instinct screamed at him to let her go.
Let her disappear into another room like a shadow.
But the words left his mouth before he could stop them.
"Xu Meilin."
She paused.
He didn't know what he meant to say.
He didn't even know why he called her name.
But for a second, just a second, she looked at him with something soft in her gaze. Not hope. Not affection.
Just understanding.
A silent acknowledgment of the distance between them, and the strange thread now tying them together.
Then she bowed her head slightly.
And left the room.
---
Li Zeyan sat in bed for a long while.
Alone again.
But something had changed.
Not loudly.
Not obviously.
But like a seed cracking beneath frozen ground.
She had stayed.
And he wasn't sure how he felt about that.
But he knew one thing:
For the first time in years, silence didn't feel so empty.