Lu Yuze reached over and took her hand.
Not speaking.
Just holding it.
And for the first time that morning, Shuyin understood—letting go, even for a few hours, could feel harder than revenge ever had.
The car moved steadily away from the academy, the morning traffic thickening as the city fully awakened around them—horns blaring in the distance, pedestrians hurrying along sidewalks still damp with dew, the pale sun climbing higher and casting long shadows across glass towers. For a while, neither Shuyin nor Lu Yuze spoke. The absence of the children in the back seat was noticeable. Too noticeable. The quiet carried a strange unfamiliarity after the morning's gentle chaos of small voices, careful footsteps, and the soft clink of spoons against porcelain. The space where Yuyan had sat poised and Lu Xiao had leaned quietly against the leather now felt hollow, like a room suddenly emptied of its most important furniture.
