THE REAL PROTEGE

Four Eyes blinked up at the ceiling, lips parting as if the words might come. But none did.

He sat up slowly, wincing at the dull pressure still lingering through his nerves, his hand reflexively brushing the acupuncture points Shi Min had placed so skillfully.

Silence reigned again.

"I…" he began, then stopped. His jaw tensed.

Then, with a defeated breath:

"Can you read my mind?"

His voice was hoarse, laced with shame and weariness.

"I don't know how to explain."

That did it.

Shi Min's jaw clenched so hard that a faint click echoed.

For a fraction of a second, the air thickened with tension — the kind that snapped bones when miscalculated.

Shi Min stood up abruptly, paced once, twice, and then spun on his heel.

"You don't know how?" His voice cracked.

"You had her. You had everything. And when Mom needed just one thing — your hand — you let it go."

Chu Yan looked at him, throat constricting.

Shi Min's voice dipped again, quieter, deadlier.

"Mom trusted you when the whole world only ever took from her. She chose you. You were supposed to be the one man she never had to fight for."

The silence that followed wasn't empty.

It was suffocating.

Four Eyes turned his head away. "I was surprised to see the face… She's Clarissa…"

"I know who she was supposed to be," Shi Min snapped. "But didn't your soul feel something was wrong? Or were you still so tangled in the past that you couldn't see the woman right in front of you?"

Four Eyes' chest rose sharply, eyes closing. Pain throbbed — not from Otako's wrath, but from the deeper wound he now knew he deserved.

"I didn't want to hurt your mother," he whispered.

"But you did," Shi Min said, cold. "She left the altar alone. And you weren't unconscious yet."

Silence.

Then, softer, but no less painful:

"I'll take care of her. You rest."

And with that, Shi Min turned and walked toward the door, shadows trailing behind him like the shards of a bond yet to be repaired.

Shi Min's fingers froze against the cold steel handle.

That voice — strained, hoarse, almost swallowed by pain — should've vanished under the pulse of adrenaline roaring in his ears. But his hearing, trained sharper than any ordinary man's, caught it like a whisper laced with regret.

"…you all misunderstood."

Shi Min turned slowly, his eyes hard, unreadable.

Four Eyes sat half-upright now, face pale, trembling slightly, his breath was still uneven. But there was a truth there, buried under bruised pride and months of silence, clawing its way out.

Shi Min said nothing. He waited — his silence louder than fury.

Four Eyes' throat tightened, but he pushed through. "I wanted to tell your mom… about something important," he began, voice thick. "I was waiting for the right moment. But... a few days ago, something changed."

He paused to steady his breath, then raised his gaze to meet Shi Min's.

"After my breakthrough... I don't know what to call it — but it gave me the ability to hear… things." Four Eyes tapped the side of his head gently. "Thoughts. Intentions. Not all the time — not clearly — but if I focus hard enough and the connection is strong… It's like standing inside a room that isn't yours, listening."

Shi Min's brows furrowed — his fury giving way to calculated curiosity, trying to decipher if this was guilt or confession.

"I didn't recognize that woman," Four Eyes continued. "I knew it wasn't Clarissa. I'd… buried her years ago. I'd confirmed it myself, beyond doubt. But when I saw that woman walk in, pretending to be her…"

He swallowed hard. "I wanted to know who the impostor was, what she wanted. If she was being manipulated."

"And instead of acting," Shi Min said tightly, "you froze."

"No," Chu Yan shook his head. "I was trying to read her — but I was still holding your mom's hand."

A beat passed. "And all I could hear… was her."

Shi Min's chest tightened.

"I couldn't shut it out," Chu Yan said, tears welling now. "Your Mom's thoughts were louder than anything I've ever heard. Every ounce of pain. Her fear. Her heartbreak. I wanted to act, but I couldn't concentrate. I failed, Shi Min."

He pressed a hand to his temple. "I tried to pull away — not from your Mom — but to break the connection, to think clearly. But the moment I did, it looked like something else."

He looked up, eyes rimmed red. "It looked like betrayal."

Shi Min stood frozen.

Something in his shoulders dropped — not forgiveness, not yet — but the first dent in the armor of doubt.

"I love her; I love your Mom very much. And this family. "Chu Yan whispered. "That never changed. But I couldn't protect her — not the way I promised."

A long silence passed.

Then Shi Min exhaled — sharp, shaky, almost inaudible.

"…Do you still love her enough to fight for her now?"

Chu Yan's eyes locked with his. And this time, the answer was fire.

"Yes. Always. And it will never change."

Shi Min turned fully, the air between them beginning — just barely — to thaw.

"Then you'll get one chance to prove it," he said. "Because the next time you hurt her, no breakthrough in the world will save you from me."

And without another word, he stepped into the hallway, already reaching for his communication link.

Ling Li was out there.

And she wouldn't wait forever.

The ride back to the mansion was quiet, but the kind of silence that sat between two warriors after a battle — tense, simmering, thick with unsaid truths, and barely bridled urgency.

Inside the black vehicle, the smell of antiseptic still lingered faintly on Four Eyes' suit.

The crisp air from the car vents fluttered against his face, cooling the emotional sweat still damp on his brow.

He sat upright beside Shi Min, eyes cast out the window. But the reflection he saw wasn't of the sea.

It was of himself, back at the altar, watching the woman he loved turn and walk away.

Every heartbeat since has been penance.

He shifted slightly, glancing at Shi Min with hesitance, then opened his mouth.

"Shi Min… Is your mom pregnant?"

The question dropped like a stone.

Shi Min's eyes narrowed slightly. His grip tightened — not visibly. But the silence that followed veered toward dangerous territory.