Momo's Gradual Change - VOL. 1

C171. A Brother's Vigil.

Chapter 171: A Brother's Vigil

The lights outside gradually faded, leaving the world wrapped in quiet shadows. Zhài Muyáng glanced at the clock—1:30 a.m., and sleep had yet to visit him.

Sighing, he rubbed his face, took his pajamas, and headed out. He’d given Yimo the room with the attached bathroom, so he’d need to use the guest bathroom in the living room.

The house lay still and silent. He moved quietly, but as he passed Yimo’s room, he paused, frowning. Something urged him to press his ear to the door and listen.

“Dage… Dage…”

His expression darkened. He pushed the door open, and in the faint light from the hallway, he saw Yimo thrashing in her sleep, lost in the grip of a nightmare.

Without a second thought, Zhài Muyáng tossed his shirt aside, crossed the room, and sat on the bed, gently pulling her into his arms. One hand cupped her face, softly patting her cheek, while the other held her hand firmly. His voice was a low, soothing guide, “Yimo, Yimo, Dage is here. I’m holding you. Don’t be afraid. Just follow me, alright? Follow me. We’re safe now, aren’t we?”

At his voice, her tense body slowly relaxed, and the look of terror on her face faded. Though her eyes remained closed, she instinctively turned, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

“Dage…”

“I’m here. I’m here.” He gently cradled her, his hand stroking her back in a comforting rhythm.

It was a long moment before she released him, sinking back, her forehead resting against his chest. Her voice was a soft murmur, “Dage, I had a nightmare. I dreamed those people found me and Fang Wei. I kept calling you, but you never answered. I couldn’t find you. I just kept running, but I couldn’t escape. No matter how far I went, I was still in the same place. They were right behind me, laughing, saying I’d never get away, that no one would save me…”

She burrowed closer, her voice filled with quiet fear. “I know you’d come for me, but I was still so scared.”

Running his fingers through her hair, his voice softened, becoming a gentle balm in the darkness. “As long as you need me, Yimo, I’ll always be here. No matter what happens, just keep yourself safe. I’ll come to you as fast as I can. But, Yimo, I hope that time never comes.”

“I’m sorry, Dage. I’m sorry for making you worry.”

“Being able to worry for someone is its own blessing,” Zhài Muyáng said, holding her a little tighter. “Yimo, I’m proud of you. If you hadn’t held things together, the Fang family might have lost everything.”

Song Yimo looked up, a spark of happiness lighting her eyes.

Seeing her face, he felt his heart melt, and his voice grew even more tender. “Uncle Miao and Aunt He are just as proud of you, even if they don’t say it out loud. We’re all afraid you’d do something reckless just to make us prouder.”

“I know, I know.” How could she not?

Miao Dad’s pride was there, written in his eyes, and even if Aunt He never spoke it, the way she stood tall before the Fangs showed exactly how she felt.

Today’s events had left her shaken, but she had no regrets. As she’d told herself, if given a second chance, she would still make the same choice. Only this time, she would prepare more carefully, ensuring she didn’t put herself in harm’s way.

She wouldn’t let herself be a cause of worry for those who cared about her again.

“There’s still a long time before dawn. Dage is here with you; just go back to sleep.”

Even though she wasn’t completely naïve, Song Yimo knew that she was old enough now that her brother shouldn’t be staying on the bed with her. When he said he’d “stay,” he probably just meant sitting by her bedside. Though she did want his company, she couldn’t bear the thought of him staying up all night for her sake.

“How about you go back to your room, Dage? Knowing you’re here is enough to keep the nightmares away.”

Zhài Muyáng patted her head, lowered the air conditioner by a few degrees, and pulled the blanket up to cover them both. “If I went back, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Let’s stay like this. By morning, things will feel better.”

Song Yimo felt her heart flutter and a warmth settle over her, and with a quiet “Mm,” she closed her eyes.

The room was at a perfectly cozy temperature, and with her brother as a steady warmth behind her, she soon drifted off, even though she’d thought it would be impossible.

So she didn’t see it—the way her brother watched over her through the night with a gaze tender and gentle, free of any intrusion. And when she awoke the next morning and saw him already awake, she assumed he’d just risen before her. She felt both cheerful and slightly embarrassed as she smoothed her hair and said, “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Zhài Muyáng shifted slightly, masking the numbness in his arm and discreetly hiding a morning reflex. “Go freshen up, and after we pick up some things from Uncle Miao’s house, we’ll head back. I’m going to be busy over the next few days. Those guests at the retreat center aren’t here for any real rest, so I can’t be away long.”

“I’m sorry, Dage, for causing so much trouble,” Song Yimo said, her face full of guilt.

“What are you talking about? In my heart, your matters come first.” His gaze softened, and he added, “Now go get ready, or I might turn into a wolf.”

Song Yimo slipped on her slippers and headed for the bathroom, only to pause at the doorway and look back. “Dage, can I still go on the trip to Zangshi?”

Zhài Muyáng blinked, then smiled. She must have thought he’d oppose it.

“Of course you can go. You’ve worked hard for three years; you deserve a graduation trip. But I’ll be having Zhou Qing accompany you all. That’s not up for debate.”

One extra tail was a small price to pay for her freedom. Song Yimo nodded enthusiastically, relieved she could finally assure her friends.

Zhài Muyáng, meanwhile, gathered his shirt from last night, heading to the bathroom to address some matters and quickly shower. By the time he returned, Song Yimo had dressed—a checked shirt, jeans, hair loose, looking effortlessly artistic.

She glanced his way and her gaze flickered slightly at Zhai Muyang’s naked upper body, before she darted to her room, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll tie up my hair. Hurry, I’m starving.”

Zhài Muyáng gave a knowing smile. It wasn’t his first time being shirtless around her, yet now she seemed flustered.

A promising sign.

Meanwhile, Song Yimo felt mortified. It wasn’t as though it was her first time seeing him shirtless. Why was she acting so jumpy?

It had to be because of last night—her brother staying with her like that all night was embarrassing, something she still hadn’t completely processed.

Yes, that must be it.

Thinking she’d figured it out, Song Yimo immediately calmed, tying her hair loosely in a low ponytail, leaving a few strands to frame her face, giving a hint of mature grace.

“Yimo, let’s go,” Zhài Muyáng called, pushing open the door. He was wearing a similar checked shirt and jeans, though in a different shade, his hair still damp and giving him an easy, youthful look.

Though he’d considered a matching outfit, he held back from doing anything too bold before Yimo’s heart was ready for it.

Shouldering her bag, Song Yimo approached him. “Dage, remind me to pack these clothes when we go to S City. It’d be a shame to leave them all here.”

Zhài Muyáng nodded, not mentioning that her closet in S City was already full. “Alright, I’ll have someone take care of it.”

Whether she’d actually get a chance to wear them after that was a different story.