Chapter 268: It is always you for me in every universe

When Fu Jing Rong opened his eyes again, it took him a few seconds to remember where he was.

The walls were familiar. The lighting soft. But it wasn’t the room that grounded him—it was the warmth pressed against his chest. The weight of her. Her scent. Her breath.

He blinked down slowly.

Hua Jing.

She was staring up at him silently, her expression calm but her eyes full of unspoken worry. She wasn’t saying anything, but he could feel her pulse, steady and real. Still, her gaze didn’t leave his face. She could sense something shifting. Tensing.

Fu Jing Rong didn’t say a word.

But his arms were speaking. Wrapping tighter and tighter around her. One hand fisted at her back, the other trembling slightly. He was shaking.

He didn’t even realize it.

His mind was already slipping—back to that day.

The screeching metal. The blood. The heat. The moment the life he loved most was yanked away in a blink.

And now—here she was.

Alive.

In his arms.

And yet, his grip wouldn’t loosen. As if letting go meant she’d vanish all over again.

Hua Jing felt it. All of it.

She could almost see it flashing in his eyes. The chaos. The fear. The helplessness that must’ve shattered him.

So she gently lifted her hand and rubbed his back in soft circles, whispering, "It’s fine now. We’re both here. Together. There’s no need to worry."

Her voice was warm. Soft like dusk. It tugged him back from the memory, from the edge of that old pain.

He looked down at her, still tense.

Her lashes fluttered slowly, those long, elegant eyelids closing and lifting like silk fans. Her eyes met his—deep and warm—and it snapped something open inside of him.

"Don’t ever scare me like that again," he said, voice hoarse. "It’s okay for you to hate me. Even push me away. But whenever you’re not in the world I’m in..."

He paused.

His jaw clenched.

"I’ll lose my mind. Never again. Please... never again."

And Hua Jing suddenly understood.

He wasn’t just talking about today.

He was talking about that day.

The day of the accident.

The day he held her broken body while the fire grew behind them.

She pressed her forehead lightly against his chest, then nudged him gently and whispered, "Never again."

"I don’t want to be apart from you either. You can hate me. You can do whatever you want. But you have to exist in every universe that I’m in. In all of them, I am for you... and you are for me."

Her voice cracked slightly.

"No one else. Never anyone else."

He stared at her.

And then, slowly, he leaned down.

His lips met hers—soft, slow, careful. Like he was rediscovering something precious. Like he didn’t want to wake her if this was all still a dream.

Her hands slid up his back.

The kiss deepened.

It wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t loud.

It was quiet and full.

Like something sacred.

Eventually, the two of them curled up together on that narrow hospital bed, barely fitting but refusing to move. He tucked her into his arms, her head against his shoulder, their legs tangled under the covers.

Their breathing slowed.

Two heartbeats, steady and real, beating right there in the silence.

...

While the room remained silent, their breathing even and their bodies gently pressed against each other, sleep came softly.

And with sleep, came dreams.

Unbeknownst to either of them, they were dreaming the same thing.

A quiet world. A still sky. The air thick with the scent of blossoms carried by the breeze.

Hua Jing stirred first.

In the dream, she woke to the warmth of sunlight kissing her skin. The air was soft and carried the faint scent of early spring. When she looked down, she saw she was wearing a red dress. Not the elaborate ones she used to wear as a princess, but something plain—light, flowing, lined with gold that shimmered quietly. Simple. But meaningful.

She looked ahead.

The palace stretched below the hill she stood on. The empire. Stable. Peaceful. Whole again.

Everything had settled.

Zhao Lingxu had taken the throne. The empire was calm, content. The people were smiling again.

And yet... Hua Jing wasn’t smiling.

She stood there quietly, the wind teasing strands of her hair. Her eyes held that familiar, distant look—the kind of gaze worn only by someone who is waiting.

Someone who has waited too long.

She didn’t know how long she had been standing there. Only that her feet refused to move. As if her body knew, somehow, that he would come.

And then—she heard it.

Footsteps.

Soft. Steady. Echoing gently behind her.

She turned slowly, almost afraid the moment would disappear.

But he was there.

Zhao Yan.

No... Fu Jing Rong. Dressed in the dark robes of a prince again, hair half-tied behind him, a soft smile playing on his lips as he walked toward her. Slowly. Deliberately. As if afraid she would vanish if he moved too fast.

Her lips parted.

"What...?" she breathed.

Tears slipped from her eyes before she could stop them. One. Then two. Her body moved before her mind could catch up.

She ran.

Barefoot through the grass, red robes flowing behind her like ribbons in the wind. She ran as if her soul had finally found its direction. She didn’t stop until she collided with him, throwing herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest as her body trembled.

"My prince," she whispered, sobbing. "My prince..."

"I made you wait for long, didn’t I?" he murmured, burying his face in her hair.

And far away, in another part of the same dream, Fu Jing Rong blinked.

He was awake now.

Not in the hospital bed. Not in Yellow Garden.

But in the quiet silence of a palace room. Ancient, familiar. The scent of cedarwood still clinging to the low table beside him. He sat up slowly, his limbs heavy, but a strange certainty filling him.

He was back.

He didn’t know how or why. But he was certain of one thing—she was here.

His heart led him.

He pushed open the wooden doors and stepped into the golden light. His feet carried him without thought, weaving through stone paths, past peach blossoms blooming on either side, until the palace hill came into view.

There, in the distance, was a silhouette.

He stopped.

She stood against the wind, red robes dancing, hair flowing down her back.

His whole heart.

He took one step forward. Then another. Then another.

Her name was trembling on his lips before he even realized he was saying it.

"Hua Jing..."

She turned, slowly.

Their eyes met.

And the world... the world just stopped.

He ran to her.

When he reached her, he didn’t say anything. He just pulled her in—tight, like something he had lost for too long and was finally allowed to hold again.

And in their sleep, in that hospital bed, their bodies curled closer.

Two souls, dreaming the same dream.

Holding on.

Even in slumber, they found their way back to each other.

Even in both universes, they had found each other again

Two souls finally finding each other and never letting go again...