Unexpected Second Chance at Love

The gray clouds that once blanketed City Z gradually drifted away, allowing the silver moon to peek through. Its soft light cast an ethereal glow over the pristine blanket of snow that now covered the city’s landscape.

Trees stood like statues, their frost-laden branches creaking softly in the wind’s gentle push.

The snow muffled the world, silencing the usual sounds, erasing roads and footprints beneath its untouched surface. Shadows shifted across the ground, dancing in rhythm with the flicker of distant lampposts, adding movement to the otherwise frozen stillness.

The air was crisp—tinged with the sharp scent of pine and the earthy perfume of frozen soil—creating a rare, delicate serenity.

But inside the greenhouse, attached to the quiet French mansion, Yue Ling felt none of it.

Within those glass walls, silence had a different meaning.

It was the silence of grief. Of emptiness.

She lay curled on the cold stone floor, her tears long dried. Her bluish-green eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling window, now blurred by a thick layer of snow.

She was numb to the crisp, biting night air that seeped in through the greenhouse’s glass walls. Each breath she exhaled turned into a plume of frosty vapor, hanging in the still air for a moment before vanishing into the darkness around her.

Her mind wandered endlessly, circling the faces of those she had lost.

Her parents, who left her far too young. Her grandparents, piece by piece. Lee Shin was torn from her life when she needed him most. And now, her only remaining family by blood.

She felt anger for not knowing.

Betrayal—for being kept in the dark.

But above all, she felt a profound helplessness, one that hollowed her out from the inside.

It was as if she truly was a...

”Curse...”

The word left her lips in a fragile whisper, cracked and dry. A bitter, raspy laugh followed, scraping from her throat.

”I really am a curse...”

No matter how hard she tried to live a decent life, no matter how much good she did, those close to her always ended up leaving, one by one.

As if she were doomed never to know peace. Never to keep happiness.

She had truly believed she could finally have it—something just for her. A life with love. With warmth. With Lu Tian.

But life, it seemed, was playing a cruel joke.

Every time she found even a sliver of happiness... she had to pay a price.

Just like now.

She had found joy in Lu Tian, only to lose her grandfather.

And somewhere deep inside, a voice whispered that loving her came with consequences.

She closed her red-rimmed eyes, her bottom lip trembling in time with the hollow throb of her heart—but there were no tears left to shed.

Then a thought settled in her mind, it slowly drifted to the man she loved—Lu Tian.

Did loving him mean she had to give up her own happiness?

What if something happened to him... because of her?

Because she was cursed.

Would it be her fault?

Was it safer—kinder—to let him go?

Her chest tightened painfully at the thought.

Would it be better to accept Ji Chu Hua’s terms?

To walk away before fate took him too?

But can she really walk away from him after falling so hard for him?

”Yue Ling!!”

Just as the numbness began to consume her, and her eyelids grew heavy from all she had cried, a voice suddenly pierced the silence.

Deep. Urgent.

Her heart stuttered—but she knew it had to be her imagination.

Just like how her mind had conjured the image of her grandfather earlier.

Just another cruel trick of grief.

Even the frantic footsteps echoing in the distance had to be figments of her exhaustion.

But then, she heard her name again.

Louder this time. Sharper.

And there was something in that voice—panic. Desperation. Real.

It wasn’t just in her head.

She forced her eyes open slightly, her vision blurry and unfocused. But even through the haze, she saw a familiar, beloved figure rushing toward her.

There was no way he could have known she was here. She didn’t even know why she had come. Her feet had simply... led her back to her family home.

A faint, tired smile curved her lips.

She had to be imagining him. A hallucination, born of grief and exhaustion. She hadn’t told him anything. She asked to be alone.

”Tian...”

She whispered his name as the silhouette approached, and her eyes closed again.

”Yue Ling!!”

Lu Tian sprinted across the greenhouse the moment he saw her lying on the cold floor, his heart hammering painfully in his chest.

He had seen her move when he called out—and when she whispered his name, a flicker of hope surged inside him.

But when her eyes closed once more, panic rose like bile in his throat.

He dropped to his knees, arms instantly wrapping around her fragile form. She was so cold.

”Yue Ling? My love, can you hear me?”

He pulled off his coat and wrapped it tightly around her frozen body, cradling her close. His hands trembled as he held her against his chest, trying desperately to transfer his warmth.

”I’m sorry, my love.”

He whispered, voice breaking.

”I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone. I should’ve been there...”

He lifted her gently into his arms and stood, pressing her tightly to him as he turned toward the exit.

She was freezing—ice cold—her body limp in his arms. It was like death had brushed against her.

He had to get her to a hospital. He didn’t know how long she’d been lying there, and hypothermia was a very real danger.

”Please... please be okay. I can’t lose you. I can’t—”

He repeated the words under his breath like a prayer, his lips brushing her forehead, breathing in her scent that still managed to calm him, even now.

Then—

”Tian...”

Her voice was barely a whisper against his chest. She shifted slightly, nuzzling closer, as if instinctively seeking his warmth.

”I’m okay... no hospitals...”

Lu Tian froze in his tracks. He looked down, finding her eyes slightly open, filled with exhaustion and pain she tried hard to hide.

”Please...”

She lifted her hand and gently touched his cheek.

He closed his eyes at her touch, leaning into her palm, the coldness of her skin cutting straight through his heart.

He couldn’t argue with her—not now. He had no right.

So he nodded.

When she closed her eyes again, he turned away from the front door. Still holding her close, he went to switch on the heater. Even as he fetched a blanket, he never let her go.

In the living room, he sat down on the couch with her in his lap. She was still cold, and he knew it wasn’t enough.

Gently, he removed her damp clothes, then laid her down just long enough to wrap her in the blanket. Stripping out of his own clothes, he joined her, wrapping the thick blanket tightly around them both, especially around her.

He held her against him, body to body, heart to heart.

”Tian...”

Yue Ling murmured weakly into his chest. He answered with a soft hum.

”I feel... like a curse...”

Lu Tian stilled. His heart ached at her words.

She had asked him this once before—and now, she was asking again.

Which meant her pain had buried itself even deeper.

He pulled her closer, as if trying to fuse her to him.

”No, you’re not.”

He said firmly as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

”Always remember, if you are... then you’re my curse. And I’ll gladly live with it. I’ll never leave you.”

He tucked her head beneath his chin, arms tightening.

”And I won’t let you leave me either. Don’t even think about it.”

He didn’t know what thoughts had plagued her since she learned about Grandfather Ji’s declining health, but he could guess.

If she believed she brought death, if she truly thought she was cursed... Then she might think the only way to protect him was to leave.

And that was something he would never allow. He couldn’t live in a world without her.

He knew how unbearable it was to lose someone you love.

And he refused to let her carry that burden alone.

He glanced down at her in his arms. Her breathing was soft, steady, and finally warm again.

She had fallen asleep.

”I’m not leaving you alone again.”

He whispered as he kissed the crown of her head once more—this time, letting his lips linger.

”I thought I lost you for good...”

The memory of not being able to find her—the sheer terror that had gripped him—clung to him like a phantom he couldn’t shake.

He hated himself for letting her leave alone. For convincing himself she’d be okay when he knew she wasn’t.

But never again.

He would keep her close—even if it meant tying her to his side, even if she fought him on it.

Because now he knew. One moment of distance was all it took to lose everything.

All he could do now was let her rest.

He held her—tightly—and hope that when she wakes up... she could find it in her heart to forgive him.