The world had stopped.
Or maybe it had never moved at all.
Chen Yixuan opened his eyes to the sound of silence—no weeping, no wind howling through the snow-covered trees, no blood staining his hands. The weight of Ye Mei's lifeless body was gone. The agony pressing into his chest like a thousand knives had vanished, replaced with a strange warmth that curled around him like a memory.
He blinked against the sunlight pouring through the latticed windows. There was no snow. No red staining his fingers. Just the fragrance of plum blossoms and the sound of sparrows chirping beyond the walls.
Where was he?
Chen Yixuan sat up abruptly, his breath catching. He knew this place. This was the east wing of his grandfather's estate—a place he hadn't been in for nearly a decade. The walls, the furnishings, the low table by the window—every detail belonged to the past. But how?
Had it all been a dream? A hallucination crafted by grief?
He rose unsteadily, feet meeting the smooth wood floor. His heart thudded wildly in his chest, not just from confusion—but recognition. Something was different. His body felt younger. Leaner. His hands bore no scars. And then, from beyond the paper screen door, came a soft, hesitant knock.
A voice.
"Young Master Chen? Forgive me, I didn't mean to intrude… Are you awake?"
His breath froze in his lungs.
That voice.
Ye Mei.
Alive.
He rushed to the door, flinging it open with shaking hands. And there she stood.
Ye Mei.
Not the pale, blood-covered version burned into his memory. No. This Ye Mei was vibrant, her cheeks flushed with life, her long dark hair falling over her shoulder in gentle waves. She wore a soft pink hanfu, a tray of tea balanced in her small hands. Her wide eyes blinked up at him, startled.
"You… you're alright?" she asked.
Chen Yixuan couldn't speak.
The world swirled.
She tilted her head, concern pulling at her delicate features. "Did you have a bad dream? Your expression… it's frightening."
"You…" he breathed, his voice hoarse. "Ye Mei."
She frowned softly. "That is my name. Are you sure you're well? Do you need a physician? Should I call—"
"No," he said quickly, reaching out before he could think. His fingers brushed her sleeve, just to feel the reality of her.
She was real.
And alive.
This wasn't a dream. Somehow, impossibly, he had come back.
Back to the moment they first met.
The tea tray wobbled in her grip, and he quickly steadied it, his hands lingering longer than necessary.
"Forgive me," he whispered. "I… must have startled you."
Ye Mei smiled gently, clearly a little unnerved but too kind to say so. "It's alright. My mother told me it's natural to be nervous when meeting someone new. We'll be family soon, after all."
Family.
The word struck him like lightning.
This was before the engagement had fully taken root. Before the years of coldness. Before the mistakes. He had a chance now—to undo it all.
To love her.
To save her.
To keep her alive.
He stepped back, allowing her to enter the room. She set the tray down carefully, then turned back to him with that same calm grace he remembered.
"My mother asked me to bring you some tea," she said. "She said you might be tired from the journey."
"Thank you," he murmured, still watching her as if she might disappear again.
Ye Mei glanced around the room, clearly unsure what else to say. Her hands folded in front of her, her lashes fluttering as she looked toward the plum blossoms outside. "This place is very beautiful. I've never been to the capital before."
Chen Yixuan studied her in silence. In his past life, he had barely acknowledged her presence, too bitter about the arranged marriage to care about the girl herself. But now, seeing her with new eyes, he saw so much more. The softness in her gaze. The quiet resilience in her voice. The kindness she carried like second skin.
How had he ever looked past her?
"Ye Mei," he said, her name catching in his throat.
She turned to him. "Yes?"
He hesitated, emotions tangling in his chest. "Would you… like to take a walk with me?"
She blinked in surprise. "Now?"
He nodded.
A soft smile touched her lips. "Alright."
They walked through the gardens in silence at first, the scent of blooming flowers and freshly trimmed grass wrapping around them like an old memory. Chen Yixuan felt the weight of every step, every glance she cast toward him.
She was trying.
Even then, she had been trying.
He had just never seen it.
"You seem different than I imagined," she said at last.
He looked at her. "Different?"
"I thought you would be cold," she admitted, then blushed. "Forgive me. I didn't mean that rudely. It's just what people say. That Young Master Chen is distant."
He smiled faintly. "They're not wrong. I was cold. But I'm trying not to be."
She studied him curiously, as if sensing something she couldn't explain.
He paused, then added softly, "I've made many mistakes, Ye Mei. If you'll let me… I'd like to be better. With you."
Her eyes widened.
For a moment, the air stilled.
Then, she smiled—soft, uncertain, but sincere. "Alright."
And with that one word, the world shifted.
This time, Chen Yixuan would not waste it.
This time, he would love her the way she deserved.
And this time, he would not let her die.