He finally looked up at her.

His eyes were red-rimmed and glassy. His voice cracked. "I thought I lost you."

Her breath caught.

"I looked everywhere," he rasped. "I tore apart the whole house... I was about to lose my mind... I thought they’d come for you again. I thought—I thought you were gone."

Another sob escaped his chest, half swallowed, half choked.

"You were just—gone."

Hua Jing stared at him, stunned. Her hands trembled as she cupped his cheeks. "I was just watching the sunset," she whispered. "I didn’t mean to scare you..."

But his hands gripped tighter around her waist, as if that was the only part of her that could tether him to reality.

"I couldn’t breathe," he whispered. "Not when I walked into that room. You were gone, and the bed was cold, and I—Hua Jing, I was ready to burn the whole world down if it meant finding you."

She exhaled softly, something fragile fluttering in her chest.

His tears had soaked through her gown, and hers joined them now.

She tilted his face up gently and leaned forward until their foreheads touched, the warmth between them melting something deep.

"I’m right here," she whispered, fingers brushing over the back of his neck. "I’m right here."

And for a moment, just one trembling, eternal moment, the whole world stopped.

Only their breath. Their bodies. Their tears.

The sea of flowers swayed around them, carrying the scent of marigold and memory.

And between the rise and fall of their hearts, something like home.

...

The moon was high, soft and bright, as if it too was holding its breath for these two souls. The garden glowed faintly in its silver hue, petals shimmering like they had waited for this moment too.

Hua Jing tilted her head upward, her eyes catching the moonlight as it poured through the leaves. Something fluttered in her chest—calm and warmth, the kind she hadn’t felt in what felt like lifetimes.

The last time she had seen him, he was lying motionless in that other world.

So still.

So beautiful.

So infuriatingly asleep.

She had called to him again and again, hoping his eyes would flicker open, hoping his voice would meet hers, but all she got was silence. Day after day. It had crushed her in ways she hadn’t known were possible.

She looked at him now—standing here in the real world, under this glowing moon—and something caught in her throat.

Fu Jing Rong hadn’t looked away from her since. His eyes drank her in like she was light and water and salvation all in one. His hands still rested gently on her arms, as if afraid she would vanish again if he let go.

He looked bewitched.

Haunted.

Awake for the first time.

She blinked, cheeks warming. "What is it?" she asked softly.

Fu Jing Rong didn’t speak at first. Just shook his head.

Then something flickered in his gaze. Like a thought he couldn’t contain. And quietly, with a deep breath, he said, "You must have been very sad."

The words hung in the air.

Hua Jing blinked in surprise. He had answered the very thing she was thinking—before she could even say it.

She looked at him, lips parting. Her chest tightened, and then she nodded.

"Yes," she whispered, her smile small and heavy. "I was very sad. I didn’t know what to do anymore. I watched over you day and night... waiting. Hoping. Just... waiting."

Her voice cracked. "You didn’t even stir."

Fu Jing Rong’s throat moved. He looked away for the first time—toward the sky, then back at her.

"I waited too," he said.

She tilted her head.

"When I brought you here," he continued, "I didn’t sleep for three days. I sat by your side, watching you. Talking to you like a fool. Hoping you’d move a finger. A toe. Anything."

His eyes darkened as the memory pulled him back. "But you didn’t. And I was terrified I had lost you forever."

The words pressed heavily between them.

Hua Jing reached up, gently brushing the hair off his forehead.

"You didn’t lose me," she said. "Not in that world. Not in this one."

Their eyes locked again. Everything slowed.

For once, there was no war.

No confusion.

No weight of the past pressing down on them.

Just this.

A garden.

A moonlit sky.

Two hearts once enemies, now quietly, wordlessly mending.

Fu Jing Rong reached out, fingers brushing her cheek with all the tenderness in the world. She leaned into it, closing her eyes, letting herself breathe him in.

A sigh escaped her lips, a soft one, a peaceful one.

He whispered, "I thought we were going to lose each other again."

They had both been thinking a little too hard about everything but now everything was settled and they were glad.

She smiled faintly.

"But we didn’t."

Fu Jing Rong stepped behind her, his warmth enveloping her in an instant. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her gently against his chest. The cool evening breeze stirred the flowers, but it couldn’t touch her now, not with his embrace surrounding her like a shield.

Hua Jing closed her eyes, a soft shiver running down her spine, but it wasn’t from the cold. It was the comfort—the warmth—spreading through her body, right down to her toes. His scent, like the fresh earth after rain, mingled with the fragrance of flowers, and for a moment, she felt as if time had stopped. Nothing else mattered.

A peaceful silence hung between them, heavy but soft, and then, Fu Jing Rong’s deep voice broke the stillness.

"We should stay like this forever."

Hua Jing’s heart fluttered at his words, and the words that followed made her breath catch in her throat.

"Be with me, and I will treat you very, very well."

She blinked, her pulse quickening. It took a moment to realize that, after everything, after the worlds they had crossed and the wounds they had both carried, he was confessing. He was confessing in the most unspoken of ways, but it was clear. His arms tightened around her, and she could feel the rapid thud of his heart against her back. The rhythm was erratic—unsteady.

Her own heart beat in time with his.

This was it. The first time in this world. He was giving her everything—his heart, his vulnerability, his promise.

She smiled, her lips curving softly.

"How could I say no to my prince?" she whispered, her voice warm, affectionate.

The words hung in the air, as if they were magic, binding them together in a quiet understanding.

Fu Jing Rong’s breath caught, his lips pressing against the back of her head. He laughed softly, a sound full of relief and something deeper, something that had been buried for far too long.

"So, it’s a deal?" he asked, his voice teasing yet sincere, his breath hot against her skin.

She could feel the smile spread across her face. The answer was simple, clear, and without hesitation.

"Yes," she replied, her voice steady, her heart full. "Yes, it’s a deal."