The rain poured relentlessly outside, the sound of droplets tapping against the large windows filling the otherwise silent room. Lian Mei sat alone in a small café tucked away from the bustling streets of the city. Her hands were wrapped around a warm cup of tea, but the heat did little to thaw the cold knot of memories twisting in her chest.
This had always been her sanctuary, a quiet corner where she could think, away from prying eyes and the relentless demands of the world. Yet today, even her sanctuary offered no peace.
The kiss with Zhao Yan still lingered in her thoughts, a maddening echo she couldn't silence. It wasn't just the kiss itself—it was the way it had made her feel, as though he'd reached past every defense she had so carefully constructed.
But she couldn't let herself fall into that trap. Not again.
The bell above the café door jingled, and Lian Mei stiffened, her fingers tightening around her cup. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The air shifted, and her pulse quickened.
"Of all the places," Zhao Yan's deep voice said, his tone laced with faint amusement.
Lian Mei glanced over her shoulder, meeting his dark, probing gaze. He stood just inside the doorway, his suit immaculate despite the rain, his presence as commanding as ever.
"You're following me now?" she asked, her voice sharp enough to cut through the storm outside.
Zhao Yan smirked, unbothered by her tone. "It's a public café. You don't own it."
Without waiting for an invitation, he strode over and took the seat across from her, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Lian Mei bit back her annoyance.
"Do you always impose yourself where you're not wanted?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.
"Only when the company is worth it," he replied smoothly, leaning back in his chair. His gaze flicked to her untouched tea. "Rough day?"
She bristled. "None of your business."
"On the contrary," he said, his voice softening just enough to make her wary. "I think it is."
Lian Mei opened her mouth to retort, but the sincerity in his tone stopped her short. She looked away, her chest tightening.
"Why are you here, Zhao Yan?" she asked, her voice quieter now, the fight draining out of her.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he studied her, his dark eyes unreadable. "I came to talk," he said finally. "About you. About why you keep pushing me away."
Her head snapped back toward him, her eyes flashing. "I'm not pushing you away. You're the one who keeps showing up where you're not needed."
Zhao Yan raised an eyebrow, unruffled by her anger. "You're deflecting."
"And you're insufferable," she shot back, though there was no real heat in her words.
They sat in silence for a moment, the rain continuing to patter against the windows. Lian Mei stared down at her tea, her fingers trembling slightly.
"You don't trust me," Zhao Yan said suddenly, breaking the silence.
Lian Mei looked up, startled by the bluntness of his words.
"You don't trust anyone, do you?" he continued, his voice low but steady. "It's why you're always on the defensive, why you lash out at people who try to get close."
Her heart pounded in her chest, her walls rising instinctively. "You don't know anything about me."
Zhao Yan leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "Then tell me. Prove me wrong."
Lian Mei's breath caught. She wanted to tell him to leave, to mind his own business, but the intensity in his eyes held her in place. For a moment, she hated him for being so calm, so composed, while she felt like she was unraveling.
"You really want to know?" she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, his expression unreadable.
She took a deep breath, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "My father was a gambler," she said, her voice trembling with old anger. "He lost everything. Our house, my mother's savings... everything. And when he finally couldn't face the mess he'd made, he left. Just disappeared one day, leaving us to pick up the pieces."
Zhao Yan's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—understanding, perhaps.
"My mother worked herself to the bone trying to keep us afloat," Lian Mei continued, her voice growing steadier. "But it wasn't enough. I had to fight for everything—every opportunity, every scrap of respect. And the moment I thought I could rely on someone, they proved me wrong."
Her hands clenched into fists. "So, no, I don't trust easily. Especially not people like you."
Zhao Yan didn't respond immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, measured. "People like me?"
"Rich," she said bitterly. "Powerful. Used to getting what they want without ever having to earn it."
Zhao Yan's lips curved into a faint smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You think that's what I am?"
Lian Mei shrugged, her defenses rising again. "Prove me wrong."
For a moment, he was silent, his gaze steady. Then, to her surprise, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table.
"My family may have power and wealth," he said, his voice low. "But do you know what comes with that? Expectations. Sacrifices. People waiting for you to fail so they can tear you down."
Lian Mei frowned, caught off guard by the vulnerability in his words.
"I've been betrayed by people I trusted," he continued, his eyes darkening. "People who smiled to my face while plotting to destroy everything I'd worked for. So don't assume you're the only one who's had to fight for what you have."
The weight of his words settled between them, heavy and undeniable.
For the first time, Lian Mei saw a glimpse of the man behind the confident façade—a man who had faced his own battles, who carried his own scars.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, the anger draining from her voice.
Zhao Yan shook his head. "Don't be. We all have our pasts. But it's what we do with them that matters."
Their eyes met, and for a moment, the tension between them shifted into something softer, something fragile and unspoken.
Lian Mei looked away, her heart pounding. She wasn't ready to let her guard down completely—not yet. But for the first time, she felt a small crack in the walls she had built around herself.
"I should go," she said, rising to her feet.
Zhao Yan stood as well, his expression unreadable once more. "Lian Mei."
She hesitated, her hand on the back of her chair.
"You don't have to face everything alone," he said quietly.
His words hung in the air, a gentle offer she didn't know how to accept.
Without another word, she walked away, the sound of the rain swallowing her footsteps.
As she stepped out into the storm, her heart felt heavier—and lighter—all at once.