The one who used to smile whenever Fuyue entered the room, whose gaze softened in a way even Shen Yuhuan couldn't understand. The one who cherished Fuyue — maybe more than even Shen Weimin, her father.
The man who had once said, in a voice low and unreadable,
"She's the only one in this world who still sees the light."
And now, when her light was extinguished, he was gone.
His number? Disconnected.
His whereabouts? Unknown.
Not a single trace since the day Fuyue was broken.
Shen Yuhuan gritted her teeth, rage and desperation choking her throat. She had called him. Again and again. She had begged the universe to bring him back — not for her, but for the girl lying comatose in shame and silence.
And he hadn't come.
Where was he?
How could he not know?
How could he stay away?
The news still played in cruel repetition on every screen:
"Disgraced Shen Heiress Sparks Outrage — Corporate Damage Control Begins."
"New Leak: Shen Fuyue's Past Connections Questioned!"
"Shen Family Heir Shen Hanxing Announces Internal Reorganization."
Each headline another nail in Fuyue's coffin.
Shen Hanxing — the so-called heir of the Shen family — had already disowned Shen Fuyue. Publicly. Without mercy. He hadn't even bothered to pretend it was for her own good. He didn't even try to veil the disgust in his voice during the press conference.
And now, with Shen Weimin lying unconscious and his company teetering toward collapse, Shen Hanxing was circling like a vulture. Ready to swallow everything — the Qinglan Group, Shen Weimin's legacy, and whatever was left of Fuyue.
If nothing changed soon, they would lose everything.
Shen Yuhuan stood abruptly, her chair screeching across the floor. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her fingertips.
She was just the illegitimate daughter of the Shen family — born from shame, never once accepted. But Shen Weimin had been the only one who gave her a name, a place, a sliver of worth.
And Shen Fuyue… Shen Fuyue had called her "Yuhuan-gūgu" when no one else saw her as family.
She wasn't going to let them both be erased.
No more waiting.
No more hoping.
If he wouldn't come, then she would find him.
And if he was truly gone, then she would tear through Xingzhou herself and drag Shen Fuyue's justice out of the shadows.
Because whatever was left of Shen Weimin's world… whatever fragile pieces Shen Fuyue was still clinging to… Shen Hanxing was going to destroy it all.
And Shen Yuhuan wasn't going to let that happen — not while she still had breath in her lungs.
She turned toward the door, heart heavy with conflict — and paused.
Could she really leave Fuyue?
Alone?
Unprotected?
Powerless?
Then — a knock. Barely audible.
The door creaked open, and standing there was a girl, wrapped in an oversized coat, face pale but determined.
"Yuhuan-gūgu…?"
Shen Yuhuan blinked.
"Yuri?"
Shen Yuri stepped in quietly, wringing her fingers together. "I—I came without telling anyone. I just… I wanted to see Fuyue-jiejie."
"You shouldn't be here," Shen Yuhuan said, voice sharp from alarm. "If anyone from the family finds out—"
"They won't." Shen Yuri looked down. "No one even notices me. Not Father. Not the others. I'm just… the daughter they remember when they need a seat filled at a dinner table. No one cares where I go."
Shen Yuhuan's breath hitched.
She could hear the pain beneath those words — quiet, lifelong.
"Fuyue-jiejie and you were the only ones who always noticed me," Yuri added softly. "And Fuyue-jiejie always stood by my side when no one from the family did... not even my father," she trailed off.
Shen Yuhuan looked away, blinking fast. Her throat tightened. She was well aware of how the Shen family was—full of greed and opportunism. They would never care if it didn't benefit them.
"Yuhuan-gūgu, is something wrong?" Shen Yuri asked gently. "You look… disturbed."
Shen Yuhuan didn't answer right away. She turned toward the window, watching the rain streak down like falling glass. Then, finally:
"I need to go to Xingzhou," she said quietly. "Just for a few days. There's something I need to do. Something … really important."
"And Fuyue-jiejie?" Yuri asked, eyes wide. "Does she… does she know about Third Uncle?"
Shen Yuhuan slowly shook her head. "No. I haven't told her. I don't even know if I can."
There was a silence, soft and aching.
Then Shen Yuri said it—barely above a whisper—"I'll stay."
Shen Yuhuan blinked. "What?"
"I'll stay with her. While you're gone. I know I'm not brave or strong like you or Fuyue-jiejie, but… this is the least I can do. After everything she has done for me all these years."
Her voice cracked, eyes brimming with tears. "She stood up for me when no one else did. I want to do something that matters — even if it's just being by her side."
Shen Yuhuan hesitated.
Shen Yuri was timid. Gentle. Soft. If Shen Hanxing found out she had come to the hospital, there would be consequences — for both her and Shen Fuyue.
But…
This might be their only chance.
And there was a glimmer in Shen Yuri's eyes — not boldness, but purpose.
"Contact me immediately if anything happens," Shen Yuhuan said at last. "And don't let anyone know you're here."
"I won't," Shen Yuri promised. "I swear."
Shen Yuhuan gave one last nod, the weight of everything pressing against her spine.
Then she walked to the bed and leaned down, pressing her lips softly to Shen Fuyue's cold forehead, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Hang on, Yuè'er… just a little longer."
Then she straightened — slower this time. Steadier. The fear was still there, coiled deep inside her ribs, but something colder had taken its place.
Resolve.
Whatever it took — blood, betrayal, or ruin — she would not let them erase Fuyue.
She turned and walked out, her figure slicing through the pale glow of the hallway like a blade drawn in silence.
She was going to Xingzhou.
And this time — she wouldn't come back empty-handed.
***