Chapter 163; Did we have some kind of fight?
Fang Lin’s gaze drifted to Yueqin, nestled against her mother, her tiny fingers curling around Yueyao’s sleeve. It was a grounding sight, a tether to reality that Fang Lin clung to desperately. "I will protect both of them," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. "No matter what it takes."
Jin Shuren’s dark eyes met hers, an unspoken understanding passing between them. He might wield control in the shadows, but the responsibility of protection, of patience, now rested squarely on Fang Lin’s shoulders as well.
The call ended, leaving the room in a fragile silence. Yueyao continued humming, blissfully unaware, while Fang Lin felt the weight of the psychologist’s warning press against her chest. She straightened, trying to calm herself down.
They all need patience, care, and stability.
Those would be her weapons now, not confrontations and not truth forced. Only vigilance, and an unwavering presence in Yueyao’s delicate world, until the line between protection and imprisonment blurred no further.
And with that resolve, Fang Lin turned her gaze fully back to Yueyao, a silent vow etched deep within her heart: she would guard her friend, even if it meant walking a razor’s edge for the rest of her life.
Yueyao hummed a soft, meandering tune, Yueqin tucked snugly in her arms, before rising to her feet with quiet curiosity. Her gaze drifted to the desk where Fang Lin and Jin Shuren still lingered, the muted tension between them palpable even to her distracted eyes.
"Lin Lin... Shuren," Yueyao called gently, stepping closer, "What were you two whispering about just now?" Her voice carried an innocent lilt, and Yueqin’s tiny fingers clutched at her sleeve as if sensing the slight unease in the room.
Yueyao could see their worried faces and wondered what it could be!
Fang Lin’s chest immediately tightened. She forced herself to straighten and to meet Yueyao’s gaze with a calmness she did not feel. Jin Shuren moved subtly, his hand brushing near hers in a silent reminder to stay composed.
"Ah, nothing important, my dear," Jin Shuren said smoothly, his voice warm and measured, just as he had when Yueyao had questioned them before. "Lin Lin was asking me about some... business details. Very boring grown-up things, you wouldn’t find interesting."
Fang Lin echoed quickly, her voice light and careful. "Yes, just company matters. Nothing for you to worry about, Yueyao."
Yueyao’s brows furrowed slightly, but the easy confidence in Jin Shuren’s tone seemed to reassure her. She glanced at Fang Lin, her expression softening. "Oh... okay, don’t overwork yourself!" she said, tilting her head. "I was just curious."
Yueqin yawned faintly, and Yueyao bent down to adjust her daughter in her arms. "Come on, little one," she murmured, resuming her gentle sway. "Time to rest, and then we can have lunch later on."
"All right Mama...." Yueqin had calmed down and nothing would please her more than her mother accompanying her to bed.
She had taken a few steps forward when she turned her head and gazed at Jin Shuren, "Honey, I haven’t committed any wrong, right?" She wondered what slightly made her feel slightly uneasy.
"Nothing... Absolutely nothing..." He got up and closed the distance between them. He kissed her crown before kissing Yueqin’s, and they smiled, giggling away.
As they moved away from the desk, Fang Lin allowed herself a quiet exhale, though her eyes never left Yueyao.
The consultation, the warnings, the psychologist’s grave words, they had all happened behind the curtain of their quiet deception. Now, she and Jin Shuren were left with the delicate task of preserving that secrecy, maintaining stability while the world outside their fragile bubble waited.
Jin Shuren’s eyes met hers for a fleeting moment, a silent acknowledgment passing between them: they could not afford a single misstep, a hint of what had been said. The room had to remain a sanctuary, a place where Yueyao could exist safely within her reconstructed reality.
Fang Lin straightened fully, her resolve hardening. Patience, vigilance, and care, these were now her weapons. And even as Yueyao and Yueqin moved back to the sofa, unaware of the storm that had passed just feet away, Fang Lin made a silent vow. She would guard this fragile world, quietly and without intrusion, for as long as it took.
The line between protection and imprisonment was thin, and she would walk it carefully, every step measured, every word chosen, until Yueyao’s mind could weather the storms hidden from view.
Yueyao held Yueqin close, her steps light and careful as she guided her daughter toward the guest room.
The soft click of the door closing behind them did little to block the chill that seemed to seep into the space. She set Yueqin gently on the bed, tucking the blanket around her with meticulous care, but as she looked around, uneasiness prickled at her chest.
The room felt... off. The air was cooler than she remembered, the furniture arranged differently, the scent faintly foreign. It lacked the warmth she associated with her own bedroom, the comforting familiarity that should have wrapped around her like a soft shawl.
A shiver ran down her spine, "This doesn’t feel right," she muttered, stepping back. The weight of the day, the hum of the city outside, and the lingering fog of her fragmented memories made the room feel even colder, and more alien.
She opened the door and peeked out, catching sight of Jin Shuren at his desk, and Fang Lin standing just behind him, composed but tense.
"Shuren..." Yueyao’s voice was calm on the surface but carried an edge of suspicion, "Why am I in the guest room? Did I... did we have some kind of fight?"
Jin Shuren looked up, his expression unreadable, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "No, we didn’t have a fight," he said carefully, choosing each word with precision, "The guest room was prepared for you while we sorted a few things in your room."
Yueyao’s brows knitted together. "Sorted out... my room? Why wasn’t I in the master bedroom when I woke up earlier?" Her tone was steady, but a flicker of unease ran through it. Something about the way the room had been changed to these small, subtle things felt deliberate.