New Beginning and Future

Chapter 87: When Steel Softens

Summary: In the quiet aftermath of upheaval, grief does not roar, it lingers in mist, in silence, in the spaces left behind. As responsibility settles heavier than ever, ZGDX remains fiercely overprotective, and Chessman stands exactly where he always has, beside his girl, territorial without apology, his presence a warning to anyone who mistakes her composure for fragility. Through rain-soaked confessions, unguarded nights, and the steady rebuilding of rhythm, strength is not proven in boardrooms alone, but in the way they hold each other when no one else is watching.

Notes:

⚠️ Author's Note: Cherish all time together

Disclaimer: The Muse would like to remind everyone we do not own FIYS nor the beloved characters nor any dialogue from either the show nor the book...the Muse is very sad and not pleased with this continued reminder that they do not own them and never will!

Chapter Eight-Five

The house had been unusually quiet that evening, the twins spirited away to Lan and Mr. Lu's home for the night after insisting with dramatic flair that they required grandparental spoiling, and the absence of small footsteps and bright voices left the air hollow in a way that neither of them had quite grown used to.

Sicheng had remained in his office longer than intended, finishing correspondence and reviewing contracts that had followed the board restructuring, and when he finally stepped out into the hallway intending to check on Yao, he realized he had not heard her move in some time.

He searched the kitchen first.

Empty.

The nursery out of habit, though he knew the twins were not there.

Then he noticed the faint glow beyond the terrace doors, a soft spill of light cutting through the dim interior. He moved quietly. The terrace doors were slightly ajar, allowing in the cool night air that carried the faint scent of rain. It had begun to mist, not heavy enough to drench, but enough to blur the city lights into soft halos against the dark.

She was sitting alone in one of the terrace chairs, curled slightly inward, wearing one of his white shirts that fell loosely over her frame, the hem brushing mid-thigh, her bare legs drawn close beneath her as she stared out at the skyline. In her hand was a glass of red wine. Her other hand rested limply against her knee. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks, catching the mist before falling to the terrace floor.

He did not announce himself. He stepped out into the drizzle, the faint dampness settling into his hair and shoulders as he approached her from behind. She did not startle when he reached her. Perhaps she had known he would come.

He placed one hand gently at her shoulder first, the other sliding around her waist, and when she leaned back into him without resistance, he understood that this was not surprise but surrender. He took the wine glass from her hand carefully, setting it aside on the small table without comment, and then he crouched slightly so he could slide into the chair behind her, pulling her with him so she was seated across his lap, her knees settling on either side of his hips, her face turning toward his chest almost instinctively.

The mist thickened slightly, dotting his shirt, dampening the edges of her hair. He wrapped both arms around her fully, drawing her closer until her body was flush against his, one hand cradling the back of her head as the other pressed firmly against her lower back. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

She breathed unevenly against him, her tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt. Finally, her voice broke the silence, raw and unguarded. "I thought I was fine."

He tightened his hold slightly. "You have been strong for two months."

"I do not want to be strong tonight," she whispered.