The moment the danger was over, the tension snapped.
Hana and the others rushed up the stairs, still breathless, hearts thudding in their ears. Their feet echoed on the cold metal steps as they found Muchen crouched on the second-floor balcony, holding Shao in one arm and his stomach in the other. His head was bowed, face buried into Shao's shoulder, but the sound coming from him was unmistakable.
He was sobbing.
Raw, ugly, heart-wrenching sobs.
"Muchen!" Hana called out, eyes wide with fear.
But he didn't look up.
Muchen's entire body trembled as he clutched his stomach tightly, as if he was afraid it would fall apart if he let go. His bloodied fingers were digging into the fabric, lips moving in broken whispers. "No… no… my baby… my baby…"
Qiu Yue pushed past the others, his usually calm expression furrowed deeply. "Get back—give him some space!" he barked, his white coat flaring behind him.
