You had always told Yut-Lung that if anything happened, anything at all, your door was always open. And you knew he was too stubborn to take that offer, too proud to accept someone's help.

Which is why your heart drops into your stomach when you open your door and he's stood there. His silky hair bedraggled, falling out its intricate braid and his purple cheongsam is soaked through from the rain that's pouring outside, clinging to his skin.

His eyes are downcast, fixed on the floor, an overnight bag clutched in his hands. He doesn't need to say anything for you to know he's not prepared to go back to the Lee estate tonight. Something truly bad must have happened for him to finally listen to you.