CHAPTER 4- The Morning after Silence

The dawn crept gently over the city of Huajing, pale gold spilling through the tall windows of the Black Dragon compound. The air was cold enough to sting, carrying the faint scent of rain and sandalwood. Somewhere in the distance, a temple bell chimed — deep and hollow — echoing through the sleeping streets.

Li Wei woke slowly, eyes blinking open to the sight of a ceiling far too elegant for him. For a moment, he didn’t move. His head was still heavy from last night’s chaos — the shooting, the shouting, the darkness that had followed him into this place. He sat up, realizing someone had draped a blanket over him. The faintest trace of cigarette smoke clung to it — Zhou Yichen’s scent.

Outside, the world was quiet. He padded out into the corridor, barefoot, his steps soft against the wooden floor. The compound in daylight didn’t feel like a den of criminals. It felt… ancient. Peaceful. Lanterns swayed gently in the morning breeze, the koi pond rippling with golden light.

Then, movement caught his eye in the courtyard.

Zhou Yichen stood alone — tall, black shirt clinging to his back, long hair slicked back neatly, dark coat hanging off one shoulder. The air around him felt different — sharp and quiet, like the edge of a blade. He was practicing with a wooden staff, each movement fluid and disciplined, like a ritual carved into muscle and memory.

Li Wei stood silently by the pillar, unable to look away. Yichen’s every strike was graceful, yet burdened — the motions of someone who had fought too long, too hard, and still carried the ghosts of it. His breath came out in visible clouds; the morning light painted his face in silver and shadow.

For a second, Li Wei forgot his fear.

He only saw a man — lonely, exhausted, endlessly restrained — trying not to crumble.

Yichen finally noticed him. “You’re awake,” he said, his voice low, almost hoarse.

Li Wei nodded quickly. “You… move like someone who’s angry at the air.”

The faintest curve tugged at Yichen’s lips. “Maybe I am.”

Before Li Wei could reply, a sudden loud crash shattered the calm.

“Boss!” Rui Lang’s voice echoed from inside. “Han Shen’s trying to make breakfast again—someone call the fire department!”

A groan followed. “It’s not that bad!” Han Shen shouted back.

Yichen pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath, “Every damn morning…”

When Li Wei followed him in, the kitchen looked like a battlefield. A pan smoked helplessly, Mo Jin stood by the counter reading a newspaper like this was routine, and Han Shen waved a spatula proudly as if he’d achieved culinary greatness.

Li Wei couldn’t help it — a laugh slipped out.

That sound turned every head. Rui Lang pointed dramatically. “See! The new guy gets it! Han Shen, your eggs could be used as weapons.”

Han Shen shrugged. “At least I’m trying to keep us alive!”

Yichen sighed, taking off his coat and rolling up his sleeves. “Everyone out. Li Wei, stay.”

Li Wei blinked. “Me?”

“Can you cook without causing property damage?”

“...Maybe?”

“That’s better than our record,” Rui Lang said solemnly.

And just like that, Li Wei found himself at the stove, Yichen beside him, quietly correcting the heat, their shoulders almost touching. The kitchen filled with the soft crackle of oil and laughter leaking from the other room.

For the first time since entering this world, Li Wei didn’t feel trapped. He felt seen.

Later that afternoon, the compound settled into a hush. Li Wei wandered the halls, tracing his steps back to his room. The laughter had faded, replaced by murmurs — quiet, almost mournful — coming from a slightly open door nearby.

He didn’t mean to listen.

He just… stopped.

Rui Lang’s voice, low and soft: “You saw the way Boss looked at him this morning?”

Mo Jin answered. “I did. Haven’t seen him that calm since… her.”

There was silence — the kind that makes air heavier.

Rui Lang sighed. “She’d have liked Li Wei. He’s got that same way of walking into a room and making it less dark. No wonder Boss hasn’t raised his voice once today.”

“Yeah,” Mo Jin said quietly. “Seeing him like this after all these years… it’s strange. Like a ghost came back, but gentler.”

Li Wei’s throat tightened. He didn’t know who she was, but the ache in their voices said enough. Slowly, he stepped away, guilt crawling up his chest. He hadn’t wanted to intrude — yet somehow, he’d stumbled upon the reason behind Zhou Yichen’s silence.

When night fell, the city below glittered like wet glass. Li Wei found Yichen standing on the balcony again, cigarette glowing faintly in the dark. The air smelled of smoke and rain.

“You’re always here at night,” Li Wei said quietly.

“It’s the only time Huajing shuts up,” Yichen murmured.

Li Wei hesitated before stepping beside him. “You don’t have to smile to be kind, you know.”

Yichen turned, a faint question in his gaze.

Li Wei met his eyes. “Sometimes silence says enough.”

The corner of Yichen’s mouth lifted — a ghost of warmth breaking through the steel. He took another drag, exhaled slowly, and handed Li Wei his coat without a word when he shivered.

For a while, they just stood there — the city breathing beneath them, the wind tugging softly at their clothes — two people from different worlds, drawn by a quiet neither could explain.

And for the first time, Li Wei didn’t feel like he’d stumbled into the Underworld.

He felt like he’d found the one place where even darkness could feel alive.

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