Scene 1: Breakfast Table Illusions
The sun spilled its golden warmth over the quiet inn, melting away the chill that clung to the shadows of last night. Outside, birds chirped atop the roof, the scent of fresh lotus buns and jasmine tea drifting in from the kitchen. Morning had come as if nothing had happened—as if heartbreak, confessions, and near-collapses hadn't unfolded just hours ago.
In the dining hall, the low hum of voices began to fill the space. Everyone had gathered around the long wooden table, their faces adorned with tired smiles, playful smirks, and the kind of exaggerated cheer that only came after a storm no one wanted to acknowledge.
Wei Zhan was already seated, lazily chewing on a sesame dumpling as he leaned back with that same confident posture he always carried—chin up, smug grin, and a dangerous sparkle in his eye.
Xie Lian entered late, just a beat behind the others. His gaze instinctively searched for Wei Zhan, and for a split second—just one heartbeat—his steps faltered.
Wei Zhan didn't even look up.
Instead, he made a show of scooting himself between Tianlan and Devran, his expression unreadable. "You two are hogging all the good food again," he drawled casually, nudging Devran with his elbow. "Honestly, what's the point of being the injured one if I don't even get extra servings?"
Everyone laughed, and the tension from the night before seemed to dissipate into the rising steam of warm tea and fresh rice cakes.
Xie Lian stood awkwardly for a second, holding a plate, eyes darting toward the seat across from Wei Zhan, then the one next to Saanvi. He chose the latter, slowly settling in with a forced grin.
"Morning," he greeted, voice light.
"Sleep well?" Saanvi asked gently, watching him over the rim of her cup.
"Yeah," he replied too quickly. "Like a baby phoenix in a warm nest."
She smiled faintly but said nothing.
Across the table, Wei Zhan leaned toward Tianlan and whispered something, causing Tianlan to chuckle and elbow him back. The two of them fell into an easy banter, Devran joining in, eyes crinkling at the edges.
Xie Lian's smile dimmed just a fraction.
He reached for a steamed bun, then made a show of tossing a sugar crystal across the table at Riku. "Oi, Riku, don't just hoard all the plum slices! This table isn't your personal orchard."
Riku snorted. "Says the guy who licked the spoon after the honey jar!"
Laughter rippled again.
To anyone watching, Xie Lian was the same as ever—teasing, playful, impossibly dramatic. But to two very specific sets of eyes, something was off.
Saanvi exchanged a subtle glance with Vihaan.
Did you notice it too? her eyes seemed to ask.
Vihaan nodded almost imperceptibly.
He'd seen it the moment Xie Lian walked in. The hesitation. The quick sweep of his gaze toward Wei Zhan. The too-bright smile. The way his shoulders stiffened when Wei Zhan sat somewhere else.
Xie Lian was pretending. And Vihaan, who had known pain disguised behind smiles for centuries, could see straight through it.
Still, Xie Lian kept the act alive.
He leaned forward dramatically. "Devran, darling, pass me those dumplings before I faint from emotional starvation."
Devran raised a brow. "You ate two plates already."
"It's not about quantity, it's about emotional support," Xie Lian declared.
Even Wei Zhan chuckled at that—but never looked at him directly.
And it stung.
But Xie Lian smiled anyway.
Saanvi stirred her tea slowly, watching Wei Zhan interact with Tianlan. He wasn't being cruel, not intentionally. But his avoidance was deliberate. Subtle, but real.
He hadn't even thanked Xie Lian for the water this morning.
She looked at Vihaan again, this time with deeper concern.
Vihaan lowered his gaze, his thumb brushing the edge of his cup. He hated this part—watching someone try so hard to be strong when they were breaking inside.
Xie Lian tilted his head back and let out a sigh, as if basking in the joy of the moment. "Ah, breakfast camaraderie. Nothing like fresh food and old friends to start the day!"
"Someone's in a dramatic mood," Riku quipped.
"Someone is always in a dramatic mood," Tianlan muttered with a grin.
"Jealousy is unbecoming, Tianlan," Xie Lian said with mock disdain.
And just like that, the moment passed.
But not for Saanvi. Not for Vihaan.
They saw the flicker behind his eyes, the fraction-of-a-second pause before his jokes, the way he only glanced at Wei Zhan when he thought no one was looking.
After breakfast, as the others dispersed—Devran suggesting they all take a walk, Tianlan offering to help Wei Zhan with stretches for his healing arm—Xie Lian remained at the table, slowly sipping his tea.
Vihaan walked past him and briefly placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You don't have to act so hard," he said quietly.
Xie Lian didn't respond right away.
Then, with a soft, tired smile, he said, "What else is there to do?"
Vihaan said nothing, only gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before walking away.
Saanvi lingered a moment longer. Her eyes held something deeper—an understanding forged through lives of loss and love.
"You're stronger than you think, Xie Lian. But that doesn't mean you have to hurt alone."
He gave her a lopsided smile. "I'm not hurting. I'm fabulous."
She didn't push. Just nodded and walked off.
And Xie Lian sat there, alone with his tea, watching the sunlight dance across the surface.
Still smiling.
But inside?
Inside, he was folding himself smaller, hiding the ache just beneath the surface.
Because the person he loved the most had chosen a seat that wasn't beside him.
And though no one said it out loud, two souls at the table saw everything.
They saw him.
And they knew—
This was just the beginning of Xie Lian's quiet war between hope and heartbreak.
Scene 2: Midnight on the Roof
The inn was blanketed in silence, save for the occasional creak of wood or the whispering wind drifting through the mountain valley. The stars blinked overhead, glittering like scattered memories across a velvet sky. Most of the group had gone to bed after the emotionally exhausting day, trying to find rest amid the heavy feelings that lingered in the air.
But Wei Zhan couldn't sleep.
He sat on the tiled rooftop of the inn, legs dangling over the edge, one hand gripping a half-empty bottle of wine. His usually stern expression was softened by the moonlight, but his eyes—those sharp, princely eyes—were clouded with thoughts too old and deep for someone his age. The cold wind tousled his dark hair, but he barely noticed.
A faint noise came from behind.
Without turning, he muttered, "If it's Xie Lian again, I'm not in the mood to be scolded for drinking."
A quiet chuckle followed.
"Guess I'm the disappointing substitute," Vihaan said as he landed gracefully beside Wei Zhan, using his light martial arts steps to climb the roof with ease.
Wei Zhan blinked and turned slightly, surprised. "Vihaan? What are you doing up here?"
"Could ask you the same." Vihaan sat beside him, his expression calm but observant. "Roaming around to clear my mind. Then I saw a certain prince brooding alone with a bottle. That's rare."
Wei Zhan gave a dry laugh. "Brooding, huh? Maybe. Maybe I just like the quiet."
Vihaan glanced at him. "So, want to talk about it?"
Wei Zhan shook his head. "Nothing to talk about."
"Then why are you out here, alone?" Vihaan asked gently. "If nothing's bothering you, shouldn't you be in bed like the rest?"
Wei Zhan was quiet for a moment, then offered a tired smirk. "You're annoyingly persistent, you know that?"
Vihaan smiled. "It's a skill I've honed over lifetimes."
There was silence for a moment as they both stared at the stars.
Then Vihaan tilted his head. "What do you think of Xie Lian?"
Wei Zhan looked at him, caught off guard. "What kind of question is that?"
"A direct one," Vihaan said. "I'm just curious."
Wei Zhan scoffed. "He's my bodyguard. An annoying one. Always making sarcastic remarks, always complaining… always in my face."
Vihaan raised a brow. "That's all?"
"What else should there be?" Wei Zhan asked defensively. "He's loud, dramatic, emotional. And he never shuts up."
Vihaan hummed, watching him carefully. "So nothing about… how he's always the first to notice when you're hurt? Or the way he tries to make you laugh when you're being difficult?"
Wei Zhan looked away.
Vihaan pressed gently. "You know he has feelings for you."
A pause.
"…Yeah," Wei Zhan muttered. "I know."
"Is that why you're avoiding him?"
Wei Zhan didn't answer immediately. He swirled the bottle in his hand and took a slow sip.
"No… maybe… I don't know," he admitted. "It's not about him. It's about me."
Vihaan nodded. "Go on."
"I don't understand love," Wei Zhan said finally. "Maybe I did once, long ago. But that part of me is… foggy. Now that I've remembered some fragments of my past, all I can feel is the need to protect the people I care about. That's my goal now. Not love. Not romance."
He exhaled slowly. "I don't want to get hurt again. And I don't want to hurt Xie Lian. He's… he's too kind. He deserves someone who sees the world like he does. Who can love him back without hesitation. That's not me."
Vihaan remained quiet, letting the words settle.
Wei Zhan's voice dropped lower. "I don't want to give him hope if I know I can't be what he needs. I want him to be happy. I want him to love himself more… not lose himself chasing after someone broken like me."
There was silence again.
Vihaan finally said, "I get it. I really do. You're scared—not just of hurting him, but of facing your own heart."
Wei Zhan gave him a look. "Don't try to psychoanalyze me."
Vihaan chuckled. "Too late."
Wei Zhan narrowed his eyes but didn't object.
Vihaan continued, softer now. "Sometimes, running from love feels safer than standing in it. But if you're not careful… you'll end up pushing away the very thing you need the most."
Wei Zhan stared ahead. "I'm not going to fall for anyone. Not now."
Vihaan studied him for a long moment. He opened his mouth to say something, but then Wei Zhan cut in, voice low but firm.
"I know what you're trying to say. But no, Vihaan. I'm not changing my mind. This isn't a drama or some fairytale. This is real. I'm not going to fall for anyone. Not again."
Vihaan didn't argue. Instead, he leaned back on his hands, eyes to the stars.
"I hear you," he said softly. "Just remember, even the stars fall sometimes. And when they do… they light up the entire sky."
Wei Zhan didn't respond.
They sat in silence, the moon casting long shadows around them. No more words were spoken.
But in the quiet, something unspoken passed between them—an understanding. Not agreement. Not approval. But something that said:
Even if you don't believe in love now… love isn't done believing in you.
And the night passed with nothing more than the sound of the wind.
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