*Runze's POV*
An hour later, I'm curled up on the sofa in the living room with a cup of warm milk in one hand and an open book across my lap.
The front door opens.
I look up automatically.
"...Assistant Shen?"
The last time I saw Shen Rui, he looked like the picture of efficiency—every hair in place, every line of his suit flat, his sharp eyes taking in every detail.
Today...
His tie sits slightly crooked, his collar is wrinkled, the shadows under his eyes are so dark they almost look painted on, and despite standing straight, a heavy tiredness hangs on his shoulders.
He looks like someone surviving on coffee, willpower, and bad decisions.
The moment his eyes land on me, habit takes over.
He stops a few steps away, fixes his posture, and bows.
"Young Master."
Even his voice sounds thin, drained of its usual sharp edge.
I set my cup down on the glass table, watching him stand back up with clear effort.
