CHAPTER 302: CHAPTER 302; STAY LIKE THIS...

"Stay like this..." she murmured, her voice still shaky, the ghost of her earlier hysteria lingering.

Huo Ting Cheng lowered his chin, lips brushing the crown of her hair. His breath was shallow and heavy. "You are not allowed to scare me like that again."

Her lips curved faintly, hidden in the shadow of his chest, but her voice trembled sweetly as though still vulnerable. "Then don’t push me away."

Silence stretched. His hand, usually cold and disciplined, smoothed down her back in a slow, grounding motion. It was almost tender, though his touch was possessive, anchoring her firmly against him, as though she might vanish if he loosened his grip even slightly.

Tang Fei shifted closer, her small body almost melting into his as she nestled beneath his chin. The intimacy was disarming, dangerous; his icy armor cracked with every second she lingered there.

And though his lips never formed the words, the desperate way he held her told her more than any confession could: he would give her anything, as long as she stayed right here.

Tang Fei’s sobs slowly faded into broken hiccups, her chest still trembling faintly against his. The storm of her feigned panic dulled into a fragile silence, her breaths evening out as though she’d finally surrendered to exhaustion.

Huo Ting Cheng didn’t let go. His arms caged her tightly, as though any space between them would let her slip away. His chin rested atop her damp hair, his jaw clenched against the fear that still lingered in his veins.

Minutes passed by, they were quiet, suffocating minutes, until Tang Fei stirred. She shifted in his hold, her cheek brushing against his chest, the faint thud of his heartbeat grounding her.

Her fingers, still trembling, clutched the fabric of his shirt. Not in defiance, not in manipulation, simply holding and seeking.

Huo Ting Cheng lowered his gaze, his dark eyes tracing the faint sheen of tears across her lashes, and the paleness of her lips. His thumb brushed the corner of her eye, wiping away what was left of her tears. His hand lingered, cupping her face with a care that betrayed him.

Neither spoke.

Instead, he lowered his forehead to hers, the silence between them heavy with what neither dared to voice. For once, his presence wasn’t suffocating and felt like a shelter.

Tang Fei’s breath left her in a shudder, softer now, no longer clawing for control. She nestled closer, her body curling into him as if she had found the one place she could allow herself to unravel.

His hand drifted to the curve of her lower back, moving in slow, steady circles that held no command or demand, only a quiet, grounding hold.

The quiet stretched, intimate and fragile.

Her lips parted, as if to speak, but no words came. Only the brush of her breath against his throat, warm, uncertain.

Huo Ting Cheng’s eyes softened, though his voice remained unspoken. He lowered his lips, barely grazing her temple, then lingered there, breathing her in.

It wasn’t passion, it wasn’t control, but it was vulnerability, raw and unguarded, an intimacy born not of power, but of fear, of needing, of almost losing.

In that silence, their bodies entwined not as captor and captive, not as schemer and possessor, but as two souls caught in the frail moment where masks had slipped and only truth remained.

— — — — —

The children, who had been quietly having tea in the sitting room, shot up from the couch at the sudden noises coming from the study room and they immediately hurried over as their hurried footsteps echoed in the corridor, but they froze just outside the heavy doors.

"T–Zhihao... are they fighting again?" Tinghao whispered nervously, glancing at his brother. He and Feihao had only recently returned home; they had never truly witnessed their parents’ quarrels and this was the first time hearing such chaos.

Zhihao’s face was drained of color. He had lived through it too many times before, and every sound from inside the room made his stomach twist. He stood rigid, torn between barging in or staying rooted in place as the memories came crashing back; they were fresh and raw, as if it were only yesterday.

Minghao’s hands trembled, her voice faint. "If... if Mother loses control again..." She swallowed hard, fear lacing her words. "She can be terrifying..."

Twilight and Qin Xinyu came up behind them, both listening intently to the muffled commotion within.

The guards at the door remained still and expressionless, but even they exchanged wary glances. What if the two inside truly harmed each other?

But all these years they had fought, they never interfered!

Twilight’s instinct was to push through and intervene, but Qin Xinyu held her back with a firm shake of his head. "This is between husband and wife," he murmured holding her back. "They must resolve it themselves."

But she was worried that her Mommy would get hurt but at the same time, she knew how capable Tang Fei was.

Feihao lingered in silence, her brows furrowed deeply. Her quadruplet siblings had frozen in uncertainty; she also didn’t dare say or do anything. It was her first encounter.

From a few steps away, QingQing watched the scene unfold with wide eyes.

"Is this... domestic violence?" She wondered if they should watch or separate the two people.

She whispered, half to herself. But as the noises inside shifted, less violent than before, even she hesitated. Something about it didn’t sound like hatred, it was tense, but not entirely destructive.

Inside the study room, the silence deepened. Tang Fei’s breath had steadied, her lashes still damp as she leaned against Huo Ting Cheng’s chest.

His hand remained pressed to the small end of her back, slow and grounding, unwilling to release her even as the storm passed.

He could feel her fragility, every tremor of her breath, and though suspicion pricked at the edges of his mind, the panic of almost losing her was stronger. His lips brushed against her temple once more, a vow unspoken.