CHAPTER 303: CHAPTER 303; DON’T... LEAVE ME...

Outside the doors, the children lingered in the corridor, their gazes darting between one another, unwilling to move. The earlier chaos had dwindled into muffled quiet, but that silence only made their hearts pound harder.

Zhihao pressed a hand against the wall, his knuckles pale. He remembered too vividly how the silence always came, like the eye of a storm, before either parent broke again. His body stiffened at every creak of wood, every faint murmur seeping through the door.

Minghao clutched at his sleeve, her voice trembling. "It’s too quiet..."

Tinghao’s throat tightened, his young eyes darting nervously. "But if they are not fighting anymore... then what are they doing?"

Twilight frowned, lips pressed thin, clearly impatient. But Qin Xinyu’s hand remained firm on her wrist, his voice calm though his eyes betrayed unease. "No. We don’t intrude."

Feihao wrapped her arms around herself, staring at the double doors as though they were some monster’s maw. Her brows furrowed deeper, torn between worry and hesitation. "If Mommy... if she cried like that again..." she whispered, unable to finish.

Qing Qing shifted uncomfortably at the edge of the group, her small hands clasped tightly.

Zhihao murmured, "But... it doesn’t sound like it’s something like hitting anymore," she murmured cautiously. Her eyes darted to Zhihao, uncertain. "It’s... different."

Just then, the heavy footsteps of Huo Qi echoed down the corridor, the family doctor trailing behind him. The guards straightened immediately as he approached, his voice clipped but steady.

"Enough," Huo Qi ordered, his expression unreadable. "Go upstairs to your rooms. There’s nothing for you to worry about here."

He flicked his hand, and the guards stepped forward. The children hesitated, their feet heavy with reluctance, until the guards gently but firmly guided them away.

Zhihao cast one last glance at the study door, his lips pressed tightly. His chest burned with memories, memories of his mother’s screams, of his father’s cold fury, and though he said nothing, his silence was louder than any protest.

Minghao clung to his sleeve, her face pale, while Tinghao and Feihao trailed behind, whispering nervously among themselves.

QingQing lingered for a heartbeat longer, her wide eyes fixed on the closed doors, before she too followed, her thoughts tangled. If that wasn’t hate... then what was it?

And behind those doors, where no child could see, Tang Fei and Huo Ting Cheng remained entwined in fragile quiet, the storm outside replaced with an intimacy neither could deny nor name. Was this some kind of toxic relationship?

Huo Ting Cheng’s hands were firm yet careful as he lifted Tang Fei from the floor, her small frame trembling slightly against him.

He carried her over to the couch and set her down gently, her head resting against the soft cushions. She let out a faint shiver, the residual tension of her earlier panic lingering in the curve of her spine.

He began pacing back and forth, long strides that echoed faintly against the polished wooden floor, his injured arm tucked close to his side and his brow was furrowed, eyes dark, betraying the storm still simmering inside him.

The doctor stepped cautiously into the room, taking in Tang Fei’s posture, the flushed streaks on her cheeks, and the rapid rise and fall of her chest. He frowned lightly, "Miss Tang... physically, I don’t see any immediate injuries. Your vitals are stable, though your pulse is elevated, likely from the emotional stress."

Tang Fei lifted one delicate hand, squinting at him through slightly narrowed eyes. Something about the calm, professional tone grated against her, a silent warning tugging at her instincts. She arched a brow at the doctor, her voice soft but edged with steel.

"Leave me alone.... Get out...." She dismissed him, did he plan on exposing her? She began hyperventilating gasping for air.

The doctor froze, he glanced nervously at Huo Ting Cheng, who had stopped pacing immediately, his dark eyes narrowing into sharp, dangerous slits.

"Huo... Sir," the doctor began cautiously, "she’s... hyperventilating. We should...."

"Do not touch her," Huo Ting Cheng barked, his voice low and edged with steel. Every muscle in his body was coiled, every step he had taken toward pacing now halted. He was all predator, all control, entirely focused on her trembling form on the couch.

Tang Fei’s chest rose and fell in rapid, uneven bursts, her lips parting as though she were struggling for every breath. Her hands clutched at the cushions, fingers digging in, knuckles pale. "I... I can’t... breathe..." she gasped, letting the act slip into reality just enough to send him spiraling.

Huo Ting Cheng’s heart lurched. His usual composure, the calm, cold armor he wore like a shield, shattered. He rushed to kneel beside her, one hand pressing lightly to her back, the other cupping her cheek. "Fei’er... look at me. Focus.... You are safe.... You are here. Breathe with me."

Tang Fei’s eyes flicked up at him, the smallest shadow of triumph hiding in the chaos of her wide, glassy stare. Her breaths hitched, forcing him to match them unconsciously, her panic dictating the rhythm of his own heart.

The doctor stepped back, uncertain. "Sir... should I...."

Huo Ting Cheng’s hand shot out, palm flat, stopping him. "You see? Nothing. She is fine. Step back." His jaw tightened. The man was no longer the icy calm figure of authority; panic and fear, raw and unfiltered, lurked in his dark blue eyes.

Tang Fei’s trembling slowed just a fraction, but her gaze remained fixed on him, calculating, aware of the leverage she had. Every quiver, every gasped syllable of her faux panic, anchored him to her side. She wasn’t just fragile, she was power wrapped in porcelain, and he was utterly trapped by it.

Her lips parted, voice soft and broken, as if she might shatter at any second. "Don’t... leave me... Ting Cheng... I want to stay with you!"

Huo Ting Cheng’s chest tightened, every instinct screaming to protect, to hold, to never let her go. His hand drifted to the small part of her back again, moving in slow, grounding circles, while the other stayed firm on her cheek.