THE REAL PROTEGE

A pause.

A final scan.

The aneurysm is sealed.

Relief washes over Shi Min and everyone in the room — not in an outward show, but in the quiet realization that today, they've won.

Beyond the operating room, the rest of the group started pouring in one after the other, their expressions a mix of concern, anxiety, and barely contained panic.

Goldie was the first to arrive, with Four Eyes and Chatty. Phone still in hand, his eyes scanning the hospital's corridors for any sign of updates.

Four Eyes and Chatty — Chatty looks visibly shaken, unable to erase the haunting image of Fatty's flaming wreck from his mind.

Ling Li, though in the middle of an important meeting, had received the message. She did not respond — she didn't need to. She was already on her way.

The doors to the infirmary slammed open, the sound echoing against the sterile white walls as Lily burst inside, flanked by Ren and Shun.

Her world was crumbling. Her breath hitched, sharp, and uneven — she could barely walk straight, each step like trudging through a nightmare she couldn't wake from. Her vision blurred, not from exhaustion but from the sheer panic twisting her insides.

Lily was still so young, and Fatty was her first love.

The weight of that realization crushed her chest, suffocating, pressing down on every fiber of her being.

She couldn't lose him.

Her hands trembled violently, clutching at the fabric of her sleeves as if they were the only thing holding her together. She felt like she was unraveling.

Tears clung to her lashes, refusing to fall — but her face was already streaked with remnants of earlier sobs, her cheeks flushed with the overwhelming fear consuming her.

Ren was tense beside her, her movements swift yet careful, her usual calm demeanor shattered by the urgency of the moment. Shun walked on her other side, and his jaw clenched, his gaze sharp, scanning the hallway for any sign — any glimpse — of Fatty's condition.

Ren kept a steadying hand on Lily's shoulder, but even she couldn't mask the quiet dread tightening her expression. Her grip was firm and reassuring, but it barely kept her from collapsing under the weight of uncertainty.

They rounded the corner, the waiting area outside the operating room coming into view — and then, they saw them.

The weight of waiting was evident.

Four Eyes and Chatty stood rigid, their faces pale, drained of every ounce of energy. Neither had moved since the surgery began.

The room was thick with unspoken tension, the air heavy, suffocating.

Chatty had his hands shoved deep into his pockets, but his fingers twitched, jittering slightly, betraying his barely contained nerves. He kept shifting his weight as if standing still for too long would make the reality of the situation crash down on him.

Four Eyes were different — frozen, still, like a statue carved from pure distress. His eyes were locked onto the sealed doors of the operating room, burning holes through them as though sheer willpower alone could force them open, make the doctors step out, make them say something — anything.

Lily felt her stomach drop, a sickening lurch that made her head light and her throat dry. This was real.

She stumbled forward, nearly gripping Four Eyes' arm, her stepfather, without thinking, seeking something — someone —anything to hold on to.

Four Eyes finally turned toward her, his hands tightening into fists for a fleeting moment before he exhaled slowly, unsteadily.

The silence stretched unbearably before he spoke.

"He's in surgery," he said quietly.

His voice was strained, flat as if speaking the words aloud made them heavier.

Lily felt her knees buckle, her legs trembling beneath her, unable to hold the weight of the fear crushing her.

Ren caught her before she collapsed, her grip firm as she held her upright, forcing Lily to look at him.

"Lily," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the worry thick in her eyes. "Quan Ye is strong. Shi Min is there. They'll do everything possible."

"Yes," it was the only word Four Eyes could add.

Ren Almost rolled her eye's. 'Pap's can you add more comforting words?' She silently thought.

But Lily wasn't listening.

She didn't want rationality.

She wanted certainty.

And right now — there were none.

Ling Li moved swiftly down the hallway, her coat flowing behind her like a steady tide, a storm contained within the sharp, purposeful strides of her feet. The fluorescent lights hummed above her, casting a cold, sterile glow upon the waiting area, where grief hung thick in the air — a suffocating weight pressing against each chest.

She took in the scene in an instant—the exhaustion lining their faces, the tension rippling between bodies, the hushed whispers that carried unspoken fears like ripples over still water. Her family. Her disciples. Her people. But instead of the warriors she had forged, she saw them crumbling, shaken, undone.

And then — Lily.

Her daughter sat stiffly, locked in place between Ren and Four Eyes, her hands gripping the fabric of her sleeves so tightly that her knuckles had turned bone-white. Her breath hitched, uneven, and fragile, like glass on the verge of shattering. Ling Li's stomach clenched at the sight of her child — so young, so small, drowning in sorrow that even years of training had not prepared her for.

Lily's once bright and defiant eyes were swollen, and her face streaked with the tracks of silent tears. The tremors that wracked her body, despite the firm, grounding hand on her shoulder, spoke of the depth of her terror — one that had taken root deep within her bones.

Ling Li swallowed the ache that clawed at her heart. But she did not falter.

She was their leader. Their pillar. The one thing that could not afford to collapse beneath the weight of grief. She needed to show them what is true strength was amidst the chaos.

She had spent so much time molding them, sharpening their minds like steel, fortifying their bodies with relentless discipline — preparing them for battles more perilous than a single accident.

And yet, here they were. Shattered. Crumbling at the first taste of true crisis.

A sharp breath.