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Xie Lian wakes abruptly, a creeping sense of wrongness clawing at his chest before he even fully understands why. His eyelashes flutter, his fingers twitch against the silk sheets, and then—
Cold.
The spot beside him is empty.
A sharp pang shoots through his chest as his hand instinctively reaches out, searching for warmth that isn’t there. His fingers grasp at nothing but cool sheets , the fabric untouched, as if Hua Cheng had been gone for a long time.
His body locks up. His breath catches in his throat.
The scent that usually wraps around him in sleep— sandalwood and rain, deep and grounding, Hua Cheng’s scent —is faint. Too faint.
A slow, suffocating panic spreads through his ribs.
Xie Lian jerks upright, his heart slamming against his ribs. “San Lang?” His voice is hoarse, trembling slightly.
Silence.
His breathing stutters. He pushes back the blankets and stumbles out of bed, his feet hitting the cold floor, but he barely notices. His entire body is tuned to one thing — finding Hua Cheng.
He was just here. He should be here.
Xie Lian doesn’t stop to think—his instincts take over, driving him forward. He rushes out of the bedroom, his fingers brushing the doorframe for support as his legs carry him into the hallway.
“Hua Cheng?” He calls louder this time, his voice ringing in the still air.
Nothing.
The silence is unbearable. The house feels too big, too empty . Xie Lian moves quickly, checking every room—first the study, then the kitchen. No sign of him. The tea cups from last night are still sitting on the table, untouched. The faint remnants of Hua Cheng’s presence linger in the air, but the longer Xie Lian searches, the more the scent seems to fade .
His pulse pounds in his ears.
The back courtyard—nothing. The side room—nothing.
Then he sees it.
The door is unlocked.
Xie Lian stops dead in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat.
The faintest breeze drifts through the small opening, making the candlelight flicker. The door isn’t just unlocked—it’s slightly open .
His chest tightens painfully .
Hua Cheng always locks the door. Always. It’s habit. A silent reassurance. A small, unconscious act that tells Xie Lian that he is safe, that Hua Cheng is always here .
But now, the door is open, and Hua Cheng is gone .
Xie Lian grips the edge of the doorframe, trying to steady himself, but his hands are trembling . His mind is spiraling too fast— Where did he go? Why didn’t he wake me? Why didn’t he tell me?
A sharp ache seizes his chest. His breathing comes too fast, too shallow. His body knows before his mind does—his instincts are screaming at him, his omega nature surging up like a tidal wave of distress.
The only thing keeping him anchored is gone.
His vision blurs slightly, panic creeping under his skin. He tries to follow Hua Cheng’s scent, but it’s too faint , too scattered. His hands shake as he presses them against his chest, trying to breathe, breathe, breathe , but the air won’t come properly.
His stomach clenches. A familiar, overwhelming emptiness seeps into his bones.
What if something happened? What if he’s hurt? What if he—
What if he left?
The thought hits him like a physical blow . His legs feel weak. His mind is clouded with an ache he doesn’t know how to stop . His whole body is reacting, distress curling tight around his ribs, his instincts roaring at him to find his mate now .
Then—
Footsteps.
A faint scuff of boots on stone.
Xie Lian’s head snaps up so fast that the room tilts. He knows those footsteps. He knows that gait, that presence, that unmistakable rhythm of someone who belongs to him .
He moves before he thinks , feet carrying him forward, through the house, past the door—
Hua Cheng.
The door creaks open.
A flash of red in the dim light. A figure stepping inside, dressed in his usual crimson robes, one hand holding a small cloth bag, his expression calm—
Hua Cheng.
Xie Lian doesn’t stop to breathe. Doesn’t stop to think.
He lunges forward, wrapping himself around Hua Cheng before he can say a word .
His arms lock around Hua Cheng’s waist, holding him so tightly that it’s as if he fears Hua Cheng might disappear again. His face buries against Hua Cheng’s chest, inhaling deeply, desperately chasing the scent that he had thought was gone .
For a moment, Hua Cheng stiffens, caught off guard. The bag in his hand slips from his fingers, landing softly on the floor. Then, his arms come up immediately, wrapping around Xie Lian’s shaking frame.
“…Gege?” Hua Cheng’s voice is soft, confused. Then it shifts—his tone instantly turning gentle, filled with quiet concern. “What’s wrong?”
Xie Lian clutches him tighter , pressing himself so close it’s as if he wants to merge into him . He takes a shaky breath, but his voice wobbles when he speaks.
“You were gone.”
Hua Cheng freezes for half a second. Then, very carefully, he shifts, pulling back just enough to look at Xie Lian’s face. His ruby eye studies him, taking in his pale complexion, the faint tremor in his hands, the way his body is still on edge .
Realization dawns in Hua Cheng’s expression.
“…You thought I left,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper.
Xie Lian doesn’t answer . He just squeezes his eyes shut, his breath uneven, his fingers digging into Hua Cheng’s robes.
Hua Cheng immediately tightens his hold. His scent washes over Xie Lian in full force, warm and steady , surrounding him, grounding him. He tilts his head, pressing a firm kiss against Xie Lian’s temple.
“I’m sorry,” Hua Cheng says softly, voice heavy with regret. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just stepped out to get something. I didn’t think it would take so long.”
Xie Lian lets out a shaky breath, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. “You didn’t tell me.”
Hua Cheng’s embrace tightens. “You were sleeping so peacefully. I didn’t want to wake you.”
Xie Lian shakes his head , pressing his forehead against Hua Cheng’s shoulder. “I couldn’t feel you.” His voice is quiet, but raw . “Your scent was fading. I—I didn’t know where you were.”
Hua Cheng exhales softly, one hand stroking soothingly down Xie Lian’s back.
“I won’t do it again,” he promises, voice steady. “I’ll never leave like that without telling you. I swear.”
Xie Lian finally— finally —begins to relax. The tight knot of panic in his chest unwinds little by little. He presses closer, inhaling deeply, letting Hua Cheng’s warmth envelop him completely .
“…Okay,” he whispers.
Hua Cheng kisses his temple again, his arms still wrapped firmly around him.
“I’m right here, gege,” he murmurs. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And this time—Xie Lian believes him .