It was well past midnight, and silence had long since blanketed the halls of the towering company building. In the dim glow of his office, Shenzhi leaned back in his chair, letting his gaze drift toward the couch by the window.
There, curled like a cat in peaceful slumber, was Jiaxuan. She had stubbornly refused to go home earlier, insisting on waiting for him to finish. Her arms were tucked beneath her head, her breathing slow and even, her lashes fluttering slightly in her sleep.
A rare softness flickered across Shenzhi's face.
He stood, quiet as the night around them, and walked toward her. The shadows followed him like silent witnesses. For a moment, he simply watched her,her serene expression, the faint crease in her brow, the way her lips barely parted as she breathed. She looked so content, so at peace here, in a place most people found intimidating.
Carefully, he bent down and slipped his arms beneath her slight frame, lifting her into his chest as if she were made of porcelain. She stirred slightly but did not wake, her cheek resting against his collarbone as if it were the most natural place in the world.
Shenzhi exhaled slowly, as though carrying more than just her weight carrying questions, memories, unsaid words.
He walked out of the office and down the silent corridor. The security guard at the lobby bowed his head respectfully, wisely not speaking. Outside, the city lights flickered in a dreamy haze.
Opening the car door, Shenzhi gently settled her into the passenger seat, buckling her in as a lock of hair fell over her face. He brushed it away tenderly, letting his fingers linger just a moment too long before pulling back.
As he closed the door and rounded the vehicle, he paused beside the driver's side, staring at her sleeping form through the window.
He didn't know what she truly wanted. He didn't know what had changed. But he knew one thing right now, in this moment, she was his. And he wasn't ready to let her go.
Not again.
The engine hummed to life, merging with the distant pulse of the sleeping city. Shenzhi drove slowly, one hand on the wheel, the other resting against his thigh as the world passed them by in silence.
Jiaxuan remained asleep, her head slightly tilted toward the window, her features soft and unguarded in the gentle streetlight glow. Occasionally, the car would hit a subtle bump, and she'd stir just enough for her fingers to clutch at the seatbelt, then settle again.
Shenzhi glanced at her, his eyes unreadable.
"She used to cry in her sleep," he thought. "Flinch when I came too close. As if I'd become someone to fear." He tightened his grip on the wheel. "Now she smiles… laughs… cooks for me. Tries to hold my hand when I pull away."
He let out a breath through his nose, not quite a sigh, not quite frustration. "Is this real… or another act she's perfected?"
Chen Yuze's words echoed faintly in his mind: "One day, she'll leave you… when she's had enough."
And for a moment, his heart constricted.
But then he looked at her again at the quiet rise and fall of her chest, the way her lips curved ever so slightly as if she were dreaming of something kind. Not once in all the years had he seen her look so… still.
"She came to the office just to bring me food… sat in my chair like she belonged there. Like she was proud of me."
His throat tightened.
He didn't know when his heart had become so careful. So suspicious. He didn't know when he started second-guessing every word she said, or how the idea of losing her had started to terrify him more than being lied to.
A red light stopped him at the intersection. He glanced her way once more.
"Jiaxuan…" he thought. "What changed you?"
The light turned green. He pressed the pedal gently, moving forward through the empty streets, the rhythm of the drive lulling his thoughts into deeper places.
In this quiet car, with only the sound of the road and her breath beside him, Shenzhi began to feel something he hadn't allowed himself in a long time:
Hope.
The mansion loomed ahead, bathed in golden light and stillness. Shenzhi eased the car into the driveway and parked. For a moment, he didn't move. He sat there, eyes lingering on Jiaxuan as she slept peacefully in the passenger seat.
He opened the door quietly and walked around to her side, gently unfastening her seatbelt. She stirred just a little, murmuring something incoherent under her breath, her head falling toward his chest as he leaned in.
"I've got you," he whispered.
He lifted her effortlessly, cradling her against him. Her scent—warm, familiar clung to his collar. She sighed into his shoulder, instinctively curling toward him, her hand clinging faintly to his shirt as if she knew he was there, even in sleep.
The front door opened as one of the maids rushed forward to greet them. Shenzhi silenced her with a soft shake of the head. "No need. Everyone should be asleep. I'll take her up myself."
He walked through the quiet halls, up the grand staircase, past portraits and polished floors that bore witness to their shared silence for so long. Tonight felt different. He didn't want to let her go just yet.
Inside their bedroom, he gently placed her down on the bed. She shifted, curling toward the blanket instinctively.
Shenzhi stood there for a moment, simply watching her.
She looked so small when she slept. So far from the bold woman who teased him in the kitchen, who bought him ties with soft grins, who called him "honey" in front of his staff like she didn't care what anyone thought.
He turned to walk away but paused.
His footsteps were quiet as he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching slowly to brush a strand of hair away from her face. She didn't wake, but her lashes fluttered, and her lips parted slightly.
She murmured something then. A name.
"Shenzhi…"
His heart stopped. It wasn't fear in her voice. Or pain. It was warm. Trusting. Like a memory she had carried into her dreams.
He swallowed hard.
In that moment, he didn't care about Chen Yuze's warnings. Or his doubts. Or the war between his logic and emotions. In that moment, all he saw was her,this woman who had once broken his heart, and now, unknowingly, was stitching it back together.
"Don't leave again…" he thought.
Then quietly, he stood, walked to his side of the bed, and lay beside her just close enough to feel her warmth, just far enough to respect the space she once begged for.
Tonight, he wouldn't touch her.
But he was here.
And maybe for once—that was enough.
A soft patter of tiny feet echoed down the hallway.
The door creaked open just slightly before a little head peeked through, his fluffy hair tousled and his eyes still heavy with sleep.
"Baba…" Yichen's voice was barely a whisper. "Is Mama okay?"
Shenzhi sat up slowly, startled for a second by the interruption. His gaze softened as he saw the little boy rubbing his eyes, clutching his tiny blanket in one hand.
He stood and walked over, crouching to Yichen's level. "Why are you awake, buddy?" he asked gently, brushing the child's bangs from his forehead.
Yichen looked past his father, eyes finding the quiet figure curled up on the bed. "I had a dream… Mama didn't smile. Nanny chu said you carried Mama in your arms like a super man, is she sick?"
Shenzhi's heart tightened.
He lifted Yichen into his arms and walked back to the bed, sitting down with him cradled in his lap. "No, Mama's just tired. She brought Baba food today, while you were at Nana's? She stayed here with me. She just fell asleep."
Yichen nodded slowly, then leaned closer to his mother's side, his small hand reaching out to touch her. "Mama?" he called gently, barely a breath.
Jiaxuan stirred, her lashes fluttering as she slowly opened her eyes. The room was dark, the moonlight casting a pale glow through the window, making her son's silhouette look like a tiny angel.
"Mama…" Yichen whispered again, crawling closer now that he was sure she was awake. "Are you sick?"
Jiaxuan blinked, her heart aching at the innocent question. She reached out, wrapping her arms around him gently, pressing her cheek to the top of his head.
"No, Baobai," she whispered. "Mama is really happy. You're here, aren't you?"
Shenzhi sat beside them, watching the two of them in silence. A strange warmth filled his chest,fragile, almost painful in its depth. He couldn't remember the last time they had all been like this, in one room, sharing one quiet moment that didn't feel like a warzone of silence or unspoken things.
Yichen yawned, then cuddled deeper into his mother's arms.
Shenzhi reached over, pulling the blanket over both of them. Jiaxuan looked up at him, her eyes glassy with fatigue but soft, thankful.
He nodded, the corner of his lips twitching in something like a smile.
"Sleep," he said quietly. "I'll stay."
And just like that, in the middle of the night, amidst years of brokenness and newfound healing, a family simply held each other under the moonlight, not as enemies or strangers,but as something whole.
Something worth trying for...........
The morning light spilled softly through the sheer curtains, painting golden stripes across the kitchen tiles. The gentle hum of the city waking up was muffled behind glass, but inside the Black family's penthouse, warmth filled the air with the quiet sizzle of butter and eggs.
Jiaxuan stood at the kitchen island, hair pulled into a loose braid that bounced gently as she moved. She wore one of Shenzhi's button-down shirts over her soft cotton pajamas, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her slender fingers worked skillfully, slicing fruit, stirring a simmering pan of beef, flipping pancakes with effortless grace.
Perched just across from her on the marble counter was Yichen, still in his puppy-print pajamas, small hands tucked under his chin and bare feet swinging gently in the air.
He watched her with starry eyes, a lazy smile playing on his lips as he leaned forward eagerly.
"Mama, you look like the chef on the cooking show!" he declared suddenly, his voice high and excited.
Jiaxuan laughed—soft and melodic—as she turned to glance at him over her shoulder. "Oh really? Do I need a fancy chef hat too?"
Yichen nodded seriously. "Yes! And a moustache! Like the one with the long twisty ends."
Jiaxuan gasped playfully. "A moustache? Are you trying to say your mama looks like a man?"
He giggled uncontrollably, hugging his little arms around himself. "No! But you'd be the prettiest chef!"
She turned back to the pan, cheeks warmed not by the stove, but by his innocent affection. "Then I'll be your pretty chef forever," she murmured, quietly, mostly to herself.
Yichen reached toward the fruit slices, and Jiaxuan playfully swatted his hand away. "Wait for breakfast, mister. No stealing strawberries."
"But I'm taste-testing," he argued with a pout. "Just like chefs do."
She handed him one with an exaggerated sigh. "Fine. But only because you're Mama's little boss."
He grinned, munching happily while watching her mix more batter. The two of them continued to chat about pancakes, about what cartoon he wanted to watch, and about how Yichen wanted to help pick Papa's tie later.
Jiaxuan glanced toward the hallway. Shenzhi hadn't woken up yet.
But maybe… maybe today, they could eat together.
Maybe today, she could get a little closer to the man who still held her heart—even if he didn't know the truth.
Even if she couldn't yet tell him.
She flipped the final pancake and stacked it neatly on the plate, then looked up at her son, who now had syrup smeared faintly on his chin.
"Alright, little boss," she said, smiling softly. "Let's get you cleaned up, breakfast is ready ."
From the shadowed hallway just beyond the kitchen arch, Shenzhi stood silently, watching the scene unfold with unreadable eyes.
His hair was still tousled from sleep, a few rebellious strands falling across his forehead. He hadn't meant to stop he was heading for his study when he heard the soft sound of laughter echo down the hall. But the moment he saw them,mother and son bathed in warm morning light, their joy untainted by tension or pretense he couldn't move.
Jiaxuan was laughing as she wiped syrup from Yichen's chin, scolding him softly in that gentle voice that seemed to settle even the most restless soul. The little boy was full of life, full of her. He didn't need proof to know where his son had inherited that soft resilience, that spark. It wasn't just blood—it was the imprint of love.
And Jiaxuan…
Her smile came easily around their son. Her shoulders were relaxed, her laughter genuine. Not the cautious, guarded politeness she often used around him these days. No, this ...this was her. The real her. The one he'd glimpsed in moments but never fully touched.
He crossed his arms slowly, brows narrowing as a familiar confusion returned to him.
What was she doing?
Why this morning light and pancakes and gentle teasing? Why the sudden warmth in a woman who, not long ago, trembled when he stood too close?
Was she trying to win him over?
His fingers flexed at his sides. He didn't want to think about Chen Yuze's words last night—"She'll leave you when it no longer benefits her. She doesn't love you, she never did."
A muscle jumped in his jaw.
But watching her now, barefoot, humming, her fingers brushing over Yichen's hair as he proudly declared the pancakes were the best ever… That didn't look like pretense.
He felt a strange ache pulse in his chest, something heavy and reluctant.
Shenzhi never believed in change.
And yet Jiaxuan… Jiaxuan was changing.
Or had she always been this way, and he had simply never noticed?
As she leaned down to kiss Yichen's forehead and whisper something only a mother could say, Shenzhi finally stepped back into the hallway, retreating into his thoughts.
He didn't want to feel hope.
Not yet.
But somehow, it had already begun to bloom.
Shenzhi stepped into the kitchen with his usual quiet presence, the kind that sent an unspoken tension rippling through the air. Jiaxuan glanced up the moment she sensed him, her eyes lighting up not with surprise, but with deliberate sweetness.
"Good morning, honey," she said with a soft, melodic lilt, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she turned slightly, the apron tied around her waist cinching her figure just enough to catch his eye. "Did you sleep well?"
Yichen, still seated on the counter with syrup around his lips and a half-eaten pancake in his hand, beamed. "Baba! Mama made pancakes!"
Shenzhi's eyes flicked between mother and son. He gave Yichen a small nod, but his gaze lingered on Jiaxuan.
She turned back to the stove, but not without swaying her hips playfully. "I saved your favorite. The ones with chopped almonds and just the right amount of sugar." She reached for the plate and walked it over to the dining nook, deliberately brushing against him as she passed. "You smell so good, honey" she said, voice low, as if it were a secret between lovers.
Shenzhi arched a brow.
She stopped beside him and boldly reached up to sniff his collarbone and peck his cheeks . Her fingers grazed his skin, and though his expression remained unreadable, a flicker of something passed through his eyes.
"You don't have to keep pretending," he said suddenly, his voice gruff but soft enough not to startle Yichen. "You don't have to play the doting wife."
Jiaxuan tilted her head, looking at him with that same infuriatingly tender smile. "Who says I'm pretending?" she asked lightly, rising on her toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek intimate, unhurried, like she had every right in the world to do so.
He froze for half a second.
Then she turned away without waiting for a response, moving to pour juice into Yichen's cup.
"You know," she said over her shoulder, teasingly, "if you keep looking at me like that, I'll start thinking you missed me this morning."
He watched her, torn between suspicion and reluctant amusement. Jiaxuan's sweetness wasn't the forced kind anymore it was confident, persistent, like she'd made up her mind to reclaim something that once belonged to her.
And for the first time in weeks, he couldn't quite tell if she was playing a game or simply being herself.
He pulled out a chair and sat down, his eyes never leaving her.
Whatever it was she was doing, he wasn't ready to stop her.
Not yet
Just as Shenzhi reached for his fork, his phone vibrated against the table, the low hum breaking the soft domestic rhythm of breakfast. He cast a casual glance at the screen.
Xu Rouluan.
A message: "Can we talk? Just the two of us. Please meet me today."
He didn't react at first. His jaw set slightly, but he locked the screen without responding. Yichen was laughing at something his mother said, and for a moment, the scene before him looked too perfect to interrupt.
But then the phone vibrated again—this time, a call.
He didn't pick it up immediately. The name flashed boldly across the screen: Rouluan calling.
Jiaxuan's eyes, sharp despite the calm smile on her lips, flicked to the phone as she turned from the counter. She had seen the messages earlier when he left the phone unattended near her.
Without waiting for his permission, she stepped forward and picked up the phone. Shenzhi looked up sharply, but she was already answering the call, her voice dripping with honeyed irritation.
"Miss Xu," Jiaxuan said sweetly, "why are you calling my husband during our intimate morning together?"
There was a pause on the other end. The silence stretched.
"You do realize," Jiaxuan continued, her tone firm beneath the silk, "that disturbing someone's breakfast especially with their wife and child is incredibly rude."
"…Jiaxuan?" came the flustered reply. "I… I didn't know you'd be there. I just wanted to speak with Shenzhi—"
"He's occupied. As you can imagine," Jiaxuan cut in smoothly, her smile widening as she walked back to the table, setting the phone on speaker between her and Shenzhi, who was now watching in a mix of surprise and silent warning. "And I can't imagine what the two of you could possibly have to say in private that he hasn't already chosen not to answer."
"Jiaxuan, I think you're misunderstanding—"
"No," she interrupted softly, her voice now edged with steel. "I'm not misunderstanding anything. I'm simply stating the obvious. If you have any business with my husband, I suggest you go through the proper channels."
With that, she smiled and set the phone back in front of Shenzhi without looking at him.
There was a beat of silence.
Yichen happily clapped as he reached for another piece of fruit, completely unaware of the tension humming between his parents.
Jiaxuan turned to Shenzhi, brushing invisible crumbs from her dress, and gave him a smile that was all teeth and fire wrapped in sugar.
"Now," she said, "should I make you coffee or would you like to come upstairs and help me choose an outfit for our afternoon walk?"
Xu Rouluan hearing the last statement ended the call angrily
Shenzhi stared at her.
He wasn't sure whether to be annoyed, impressed, or… something else entirely.