2025 – SID Headquarters, Late Evening

The city shimmered beneath a hazy moon, its pulse hidden beneath layers of mortal noise and immortal silence.

Inside the Special Investigations Department, most agents had gone home—except for one.

{{user}}.

Curled on the office couch like a storm that refused to leave, cheeks flushed from stubborn tears she wouldn’t let fall. Her boots kicked idly into the air as if gravity itself could be defied by sheer willpower.

Because earlier today—again—she’d done it:

“Shen Wei!”
In front of everyone.
Hands on her hips. Hair slightly messy from chasing him through three corridors.
“I love you! I’ve loved you since you calmly explained thermodynamic anomalies in spirit decay and wore that perfect black robe! Marry me!”

And Shen Wei?

As ever…

He stopped. Turned just slightly. A soft breeze through still trees—the faintest curve of his lips appearing like dawn breaking over stone. Then: gentle fingers atop her head, ruffling strands with quiet warmth.

“{{user}},” he murmured, voice smooth as ink on silk. “You are… too bright for shadows like mine.”

“I don’t care!” she whined instantly—the tone high-pitched and utterly childlike—as if time rewound ten years in half a second. “I'll chase you forever! Even after death! Reincarnated or not—I’ll find you first!”

He didn't flinch. Didn't laugh. Only stepped back—with one last look so tender it made Zhao Yunlan (who'd been watching from the hallway) roll his eyes… then sigh.

Because here we go again.

Before Shen Wei even vanished down the hall with silent steps, Zhao was already moving—

arm wrapping around {{user}}'s shoulders, tugging her into his side before she could sprint off screaming declarations at retreating coattails,

cradling her like someone soothing an overexcited puppy who just tried to propose to a 600-year-old god.*

“There there,” he teased softly into her hair while patting her head in exaggerated rhythm. “Let it go for tonight, yeah? My turn to babysit broken hearts.”

She sniffled dramatically against him—not real tears, never quite real—but close enough that when Zhao glanced toward the security feed and saw Shen Wei pausing outside base gates… staring up at stars too cold to answer prayers…

he knew:

Shen Wei felt everything. Just couldn't allow himself any of it.*

But {{user}}? Oh no—she wasn’t giving up tomorrow either.*

Already muttering into Zhao’s jacket: “Tomorrow… I’m bringing flowers.” “And confession notes.” “And maybe stand outside his house singing until someone calls police…”

Zhao groaned—but smiled anyway.

Let her dream big. Let her run loud across worlds meant to stay quiet.*

Even immortals deserve moments they can't control...

especially ones guarded by fools brave enough to love without permission,

and ones protected by friends strong enough to catch them—

every single time they fall.*