Zhāo Yàn poured another amber-colored pool of whiskey into his glass, the ice clinking with a sound that grated on his nerves. He was sitting in his office, the city lights below looking like a scattered pile of cold diamonds.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him. Why the hell had he suggested a "family outing"? He was a venture capitalist, a man who survived on calculated risks and ruthless acquisitions, not playdates in the park with a scholar and a walking block of ice.

That was his curse, though. Whenever things got too real, whenever the air got too thick with emotions he didn’t want to name, he hid behind a smirk and a joke. It was easier to be the jester than the man whose heart was currently being shredded by memories of a forest he had never stepped foot in.

"Boss? You’ve been staring at that glass for twenty minutes."

His assistant, Jun Qing, stood by the door, looking concerned. Zhāo Yàn didn’t even look up. He just watched the way the amber liquid caught the light.

You were her family. Her mates. Her protectors.

The shaman’s voice echoed in his head. He took a long, burning swallow of the whiskey. Other life. Soul leaking. Lies. Bloody lies.

"I’ve finally run mad, Jun Qing," Zhāo Yàn muttered.

"Sir?"

"Get out. And cancel my morning meetings. I have to go to a... a botanical garden."

"A botanical garden, sir? You hate nature. You once said grass was just ’dirt hair.’"

"I know what I said!" Zhāo Yàn snapped, finally looking up. "Just do it. And find me the best damn picnic basket money can buy. If I’m going to lose my mind, I’m doing it with high-end charcuterie."

She scurried out.

~

Next day.

The botanical garden was beautiful, sprawling, and currently the most awkward place on the face of the planet.

Bai Yue sat on a large checkered blanket, her hands clutching a plastic cup of lemonade. She felt like an exhibit in a zoo. To her left sat Han Shān, looking like he was attending a funeral in his casual-but-still-too-expensive black polo. To her right, Yàn Shū was nervously unpacking Tupperware. And across from her, Zhāo Yàn was lounging on the grass, wearing designer sunglasses and a smirk that looked increasingly forced.

"Why am I here?"

Hóng Yè’s voice was a low growl. The sixteen-year-old was leaning against a nearby oak tree, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked exactly like a younger, angrier version of Yàn Shū, but with a fire in his eyes that didn’t match the scholar’s gentleness.

"It’s a social experiment, Hóng Yè," Yàn Shū stammered, nearly dropping a container of spicy noodles. "We’re......building bridges."

"We are sitting in the dirt with my dad’s weird crush and two billionaires," Hóng Yè shot back. "It’s not an experiment. It’s a circus."

"Hey! I am not a weird crush!" Zhāo Yàn chirped, though he didn’t move. "I’m a very respectable businessman with a very fast car."

Nearby, the younger children were faring much better, or worse, depending on how you looked at it. Little Zhēn and Yòu Lín were currently engaged in a high-stakes game of ’Tag,’ which had quickly devolved into a sort of playful antagonism.

"You can’t catch me, you’re too slow!" Zhēn squealed, darting around a rose bush.

"I’m not slow, you’re just small!" Yòu Lín shouted back, his face flushed with excitement. He lunged for her, and they both went tumbling into the grass, giggling and snarling in a way that felt strangely......animalistic.

Ruì Xuě sat a few feet away from the chaos, staring at the group with an expression of boredom mixed with awkwardness. He caught Bai Yue’s eye and just shook his head slowly, as if to say, I told you they were like this.

The silence at the center of the blanket returned. Three grown men were staring at their plates as if the potato salad held the secrets of the universe.

"So," Bai Yue said, her voice cracking. "The... the shaman. What did he actually say?"

Yàn Shū cleared his throat, his face turning a shade of pink that matched the hibiscus flowers nearby. "He, uh... he suggested that our psychological symptoms, the dreams, the shared hallucinations, aren’t actually hallucinations. He said they’re memories. Of another life."

Bai Yue took a sip of her lemonade and promptly choked.

"Another life?" she wheezed, coughing into her hand.

Immediately, three hands moved at once. Han Shān, Yàn Shū, and Zhāo Yàn all whipped out pristine silk handkerchiefs, extending them toward her simultaneously.

Bai Yue stared at the three squares of fabric. The silence was deafening.

Definitely NOT awkward.

"I’m fine," she squeaked, waving them away. "I’m okay."

"The shaman was a lunatic," Han Shān said coldly as he retracted his hand. "He claimed we were.....protectors. Or something equally absurd."

"He called us a harem, Snowball. Don’t leave out the best parts," Zhāo Yàn teased, though his jaw was tight.

"Stop calling me that," Han Shān growled.

"Waaaah! You got juice on my shirt!"

The peaceful atmosphere was shattered as Zhēn accidentally tipped her juice box over, drenching Yòu Lín’s front. For a second, the two kids stared at each other, and then Yòu Lín let out a mock-roar and tackled her back into the grass. It was wholesome, chaotic, and for a split second, the tension on the blanket broke. Bai Yue actually laughed, watching the kids play.

"They really do act like siblings," she whispered softly.

The moment of peace didn’t last.

From the edge of the gardens, a black SUV suddenly screeched onto the pedestrian path, tearing through the manicured lawn. The doors flew open before the vehicle even stopped.

Four men jumped out. They weren’t wearing suits or designer sunglasses. They were wearing tactical vests and balaclavas, and they were carrying submachine guns.

"Down! Everyone get down!" one of them screamed.

The botanical garden erupted into a nightmare. People were screaming, scattering in every direction.

"Zhēn! Ruì Xuě!" Han Shān lunged for his children.

"Hóng Yè, get over here!" Yàn Shū cried, reaching for his son.

But the gunmen weren’t there for the billionaires. They moved toward the center of the lawn, toward the children. One of the men, a massive brute with a scar visible beneath his mask, grabbed Zhēn by the arm, hoisting her off the ground as she shrieked.

"No!" Bai Yue screamed as she threw herself forward. She tackled the man’s legs, her fingernails digging into his tactical gear. "Let her go! Put her down!"

"Get off me, lady!" The man snarled, swinging the butt of his gun toward Bai Yue’s head.

"Bai Yue!" Zhāo Yàn roared, moving towards them. Han Shān was right behind him.

The lead gunman panicked. He saw three men charging at him like prehistoric predators, and he saw the woman clinging to his leg like a mother wolf.

He raised his weapon.

"Back off! I’ll kill the kid! I’ll kill all of you!"

"NO!" Bai Yue lunged upward, trying to shield Zhēn with her own body.

BANG.