Unexpected Second Chance at Love

Chapter 980: Time to wake up

Yue Ling’s fingers twitched. Her breathing deepened. Eyelids fluttered, then cracked open, revealing eyes still glazed with sleep. She blinked a few times, trying to focus, her brow furrowing as the world came into view.

Her body felt heavy, her limbs stiff, and she was reluctant to move. She stretched slowly, wincing slightly as her muscles remembered the night.

Confusion lingered for a heartbeat as she thought.

Where am I?

But then memory caught up quietly and gently, and the fog lifted.

The moment she confirmed that Grandfather Ji was dying. The moment she confronted him, she found out that Lu Tian had known her all along.

She had asked to be left alone.

She thought she would drive around Imperial to clear her mind, but her legs brought her to her family home in City Z for some unknown reason.

She looked up at the view before her and felt like time had stopped.

Sunlight filters through translucent panels, casting a soft, golden glow over rows of vibrant plants. The air is warm and damp, carrying the earthy scent of soil and the fresh, green fragrance of growing things.

Shelves and tables overflow with pots—some neatly arranged, others a bit wild—filled with herbs, flowers, vegetables, and exotic plants with names only gardeners remember.

It’s peaceful inside. Quiet.

It is as if time slows down to match the rhythm of nature. Outside, the world can rush and roar—but inside the greenhouse, life simply grows.

Her harabeoji’s greenhouse.

The one place he found solitude and peace.

The one place that became her solitude, too, after losing him.

Her eyes trembled, and she stood up, remembering how different it was last night when she entered the building.

Seeing it now was like she had returned to the past when he was alive and always maintained the greenhouse no matter how busy he was.

Her footsteps made no sound, gliding over ground that shifted with every blink. There was something distant in her eyes—not empty, but faraway, as if she were seeing another world layered over this one.

Then she sees the figure of someone she misses dearly.

His back was turned to her, but she recognized it instantly—the familiar slope of his shoulders, the way he stood with quiet strength, hands clasped behind him just as he always did when deep in thought.

Her breath caught in her throat. So many memories lived in that silhouette. So much love. So much regret.

He was feared in the underworld, but she wasn’t scared of him. To her, he kept her safe and never judged her.

Tears made their way to her eyes, and she trembled a whisper.

”Harabeoji...”

And like every time she calls to him, he turns to look at her.

His warm smile was like a quiet sunrise—gentle, steady, and full of quiet reassurance.

”My child, what’s wrong?”

The question made Yue Ling and her tears slide down her cheeks. She doesn’t hesitate and runs to him. Her arms wrap around his waist, and she sobs into his chest.

”I missed you so much.”

Old Han sighs, his smile enhancing the creases in his eyes. He holds his granddaughter with one hand while the other is raised to caress her head.

”I’ve missed you, too, my child. You have grown to be an outstanding woman.”

He let her stay in his arms until she stopped crying, then sat her down on the bench in the greenhouse. It was the bench she always sat on when she was young and waited for him.

Yue Ling held her paternal grandfather’s hand as if he would disappear the minute she let go. Her words were broken—fragile, scattered, caught between breath and emotion.

”Harabeoji... Yeye... he’s...”

Her lips trembled, and she struggled to form the next sentence. Each word seemed to take effort, like speaking through a tight throat full of unshed tears.

”Yeye, he’s...”

The words she wanted to say were there. But sorrow made them slippery, fragile, hard to hold.

Old Han looked at her with eyes that softened—not with pity, but with quiet understanding. His hand gently tightens on her before stroking her hair again.

”I know.”

Yue Ling lifts her head to look at him, a tear slipping from her eyes. She wants to ask how he knows, but a quiet voice in her head tells her how he knows.

As if he had heard that voice, Old Han sighed another smile.

”Ah Ling, I know you are hurting. I heard you cry. Your sadness and anger—I can feel them.”

He raises a hand to caress her cheek—his expression as if engraving it into his soul.

”You have suffered so much.”

His eyes tremble with unshed tears.

”Although we’ve left you, Old Ji is still here. Do not shut yourself out. Use this time to spend every waking moment with him. Do not make decisions that you will regret when his time is up. If you do, you will regret it for the rest of your life.”

His words fell over her like a comfort long missed, and with a tenderness only he possessed, he gently wiped a tear from her cheek.

”Parting is always hard,” he murmured, ”but it’s time to wake up, my child.”

He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

”There are still others who need you.”

As he pulled back, his eyes met hers—full of love, full of quiet pride, soft and unwavering in their gaze.

”Never forget,” he whispered, ”our hearts will always be with you. And we are so proud of you.”

Yue Ling’s shoulder trembles as tears slide down her cheeks in silence. She hugs her paternal grandfather as if telling him not to leave her.

However, she knew better than anyone that she couldn’t ask him to stay.

She clutched the edge of his shirt, looking for something solid to hold onto as her world seemed to be falling apart. She knew she would never see him again if she let go of him.

And then—

A sharp inhale.

Eyes opened.

The room was still. Quiet but familiar.

The tears were still fresh on her face, the heaviness lingering in their chest, but the dream—the memory, the sorrow—had faded into morning light. She blinked, disoriented, caught between sleep and reality, unsure which one hurt more.

The light was soft, filtering through the curtains, but it wasn’t what pulled her back. It was the presence holding her in his lap.

He was there, arms cradling her to his chest, his eyes searching her face with quiet urgency. His brows were furrowed, lips parted as if holding back a dozen questions.

The moment their eyes met, his expression shifted—not to relief but to something deeper: worry wrapped in love.

”You’re awake.”

He breathed, voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might break her again.

His hand hovered near hers, not touching, just close—waiting. Watching. Wanting to help, afraid to hurt.

She blinked slowly, trying to figure out where she was and why his eyes looked so stormy. But in that moment, all she could see was him—his fear, his care, and the way his world seemed to be holding its breath just for her.

Her hand raised to touch his face. Her eyes were searching his for longer than a second.

”Tian...”

Lu Tian grabs her hand and leans into it as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded.

His eyes closed for a moment, lashes brushing against his cheeks. He exhaled slowly, like the warmth of her touch was something he hadn’t realized he needed until that moment. Her palm rested against his cheek, gentle and trembling, but he held it there as if anchoring himself to something real.

”I’m sorry.”

Two simple words, but they carried the weight of everything he couldn’t fix.

He held her closer to him and kissed the palm of her hand.

”I’m so sorry I kept it from you. I should have told you the moment I found out.”

He lets go of her hand but only to wrap his hand around her, joining his other hand. He pulls her closer to him on his lap and leans his head on her shoulder.

”You can hate me, yell at me, or hit me. Do whatever you want, but please don’t leave me. Please, don’t push me away.”

Yue Ling’s eyes trembled at his words. She struggles a little to move her arms and hugs the man holding her.

”I’m not leaving you.”

She had thought it was the best choice to leave him so he would not have to suffer the tragedies that came her way, but now, she wanted to walk it with him.

With this decision, she pulled away from Lu Tian and held his face with her hands, her bluish-green eyes gazing into his dark ones.

”I won’t lie that I’m not angry, but I understand. I know yeye, and he must have made you promise not to tell me in fear of hurting me.”

Lu Tian felt some weight lifted from his shoulders, but that still didn’t compare to the guilt that lingered.

”Still, I should have told you. He’s your grandfather, and it was only right that you knew instead of being too late.”

Yue Ling could feel the guilt eating him from the inside. She leans in and kisses his forehead.

”I don’t blame you.”

She presses her forehead against his and inhales his scent.

”Just don’t keep any more secrets from me.”

Lu Tian nods in promise, and this time, he looks at her. His expression holds a gentle sadness. His brows are slightly drawn, and his mouth parted, like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how to tell her.

”What is it?”

Yue Ling knew the look in his eyes. It was the kind that made one make when something profound happened.

At this thought, her eyes widened as fear crept inside her.

”Is my grandfather alright? Did something happen?”

She had left after confronting her grandfather without hearing his explanation. Could it be that something happened because she decided to shut everyone out?

Not hearing a response, she stares at the man in front of her, not realizing she was holding her breath.

”Tian, what is it?”

Lu Tian remembered how she looked when he first arrived at the greenhouse—fragile and distant, as if the weight of the world had pressed the light out of her eyes.

And then, he’d seen her cry—soft, silent tears slipping down her cheeks as her body curled in on itself.

He couldn’t forget it. He didn’t want to. Because that pain reminded him just how much she had endured. And how much he wanted to help carry it now.

However, he needed to tell her.

He holds her hands with both his and squeezes them lightly.

”Your brother’s been kidnapped.”