His gaze lingered on her face longer than it should have.

Then he looked away. Closed his eyes.

But he didn’t move her hand. It still rested over his heart.

---

Outside, the rain grew heavier. Wind pressed against the windows. Branches scraped faintly against glass.

Then a sound. Soft. Almost nothing. But wrong.

A shift in the air. A disturbance too precise to be natural.

Lu Shaohan’s eyes flew open. Instantly. No hesitation. No confusion. Awake.

His gaze moved—not to the door, but to the shadow near it. Dark. Still. Watching.

Then the handle turned. Slowly. Carefully.

Click.

The door opened a fraction, then wider. A figure slipped inside. Silent. Controlled. Professional.

Knife in hand.

The blade caught a flicker of lightning—and glinted.

It moved. Straight toward the bed. Toward Su Wan.

---

Lu Shaohan didn’t speak. Didn’t warn. Didn’t hesitate.

He moved.

The blade came down fast. Silent. Aimed straight for Su Wan.

But it never reached her.

Lu Shaohan moved first. Not a shout. Not a warning. Just movement—sharp, decisive, violent.

His arm shot out, catching the intruder’s wrist mid-air. The knife stopped a breath away from Su Wan’s throat.

For a split second, everything froze.

Then—crack.

A sickening sound echoed in the dark. The intruder’s wrist twisted unnaturally and the knife fell.

Lu Shaohan didn’t hesitate. His other hand drove forward—grabbing the man by the collar—and slammed him into the wall. Hard.

The impact shook the room. A muffled grunt escaped the intruder.

"Who sent you?"

Lu Shaohan’s voice was low. Calm. Almost indifferent. But his grip tightened.

The man said nothing.

Wrong choice.

Lu Shaohan’s knee drove up—brutal, precise. The intruder folded. A strangled gasp tore from his throat.

Still—no answer.

"Unfortunate."

Lu Shaohan’s tone didn’t change. Not even slightly.

Then his hand shifted—from collar to throat—and tightened.

The intruder struggled. Desperate. Silent. As if he had already accepted death.

Lu Shaohan’s eyes darkened. Cold. Calculating.

"Professional."

He pause and then he slammed the man down again. Harder.

This time, the intruder went limp. Unconscious. Or worse.

---

Silence returned. Heavy. Breathing.

Su Wan hadn’t moved. Not from fear—from precision. Because she had seen it all.

This man was not just ruthless. He was efficient. No wasted movement. No hesitation. No mercy.

Exactly the kind of man you don’t stand against blindly.

And exactly the kind you don’t trust.

"Are you injured?"

His voice came suddenly.

Su Wan blinked. The question was flat. Practical. Detached. Not concern—assessment.

She shook her head. "No."

His gaze swept over her anyway—from head to toe, lingering for a fraction longer at her stomach.

Then he turned away.

"Guards."

The door burst open almost instantly. Men flooded in. Silent. Efficient.

Lu Shaohan didn’t look back. "Take him. Alive."

The guards moved, dragging the intruder away. Leaving only silence behind.

---

Then the door closed.

And suddenly it was just the two of them again.

Too close.

Because somewhere in the chaos, she had moved. Or he had. She wasn’t sure. But now she was standing directly in front of him.

Close enough to feel his breath. To see the faint shadow of tension still lingering in his jaw. To realize—his hand was still on her arm. Tight. Unconscious.

Su Wan lowered her gaze. Looked at it. Then slowly raised her eyes.

"You’re still holding me."

Silence. As if only now he noticed.

His fingers loosened. But didn’t fully withdraw. Not immediately.

Then he let go. Stepped back.

Distance returned. But something didn’t.

---

"You knew."

His voice cut through the silence again. Not a question. A statement.

Su Wan’s gaze didn’t waver. "Knew what?"

"That someone would come."

There it was. Suspicion. Sharper now. Deeper.

Su Wan tilted her head slightly. "If I knew..." she paused. "...would I still be standing here?"

A beat.

Lu Shaohan’s eyes narrowed. Because that was the problem. Nothing about her reactions tonight had been normal. Not fear. Not panic. Not even surprise.

Too calm. Too prepared. Too deliberate.

"From now on," he said slowly, "you don’t leave this room alone."

Not a suggestion. An order.

Su Wan exhaled softly. "House arrest again?"

His gaze locked onto hers. "No."

He paused and then, more quietly, more dangerously he spoke—"Containment."

---

Silence. But this time it felt different.

Because outside, the threat had already entered. And inside, something far more dangerous had begun to take shape.

Su Wan looked at him. Really looked at the man who had just subdued an assassin without breaking a sweat. At the man who now stood between her and everything that wanted her dead.

And thought—This is not how the story was supposed to go.

Because in the original novel, there had been no attack. No protection. No him standing here.

The plot wasn’t just broken anymore.

It was rewriting itself.

And she—was no longer the only one changing it.

---