Running to You | Park Han + JL + Steven | Haneulz + Stejay AU

Chapter 83: Even Those Who Are Broken

Silence thickened around them.

"He is..." Shuaibo's voice caught and wavered for a fraction of a second. "He is what I could have been, had I possessed even half of his courage. He chose a path knowing the cost. I ask the House to ensure he isn't cast aside for it."

The Patriarch placed down his teacup softly -- yet the sound rang with authority.

"You bow for another."

"Yes."

"You, who would not bow for your name. Your inheritance. Your birthright."

"Yes."

"Explain yourself."

Shuaibo pressed his forehead harder against the marble, its chill steadying him. "Because some things matter more than pride. Because he would do the same for any of us. Because..." He swallowed, forcing the words past years of resentment and regret. "Because I learned choosing your family doesn't diminish them. He's mine, Grandfather. They all are."

Silence stretched, impossibly long.

Then, a quiet command: "Rise."

Shuaibo lifted his head slowly, remaining respectfully on his knees.

His grandfather scrutinized him carefully with eyes that had witnessed empires ascend, descend, and profited from both. But in this moment those eyes softened fractionally, revealing something akin to pride.

"You have cultivated compassion," he intoned with measured approval. "Compassion tempers strength, forging mere men into sovereign rulers."

"Grandfather -- "

The Patriarch raised one hand. "Your javelin throw during your university championships. I observed it. You threw as a Zhang should. From afar, you brought honor and pride to our lineage."

Shuaibo held his breath. He had never heard his grandfather speak of his athletic achievement before.

His grandfather brushed one immaculately embroidered sleeve. "Your gesture today speaks not of weakness but of backbone. You learn, day by day, what it means to carry this name."

Shuaibo said nothing, the unexpected praise catching painfully in his chest.

His grandfather reached for brush and ink, movements precise and authoritative. "The House of Zhang protects its own," he declared, forming words that turned effortlessly into art. "Even those adopted by association. Even those who taste the price of defiance."

He finished writing and set aside the brush. "Your teammate will be protected. Maintained. Given purpose."

Shuaibo bowed again, deeply. "Thank you, Grandfather."

"Do not thank me," the old man said, voice firm but not unkind. "Understand clearly: today you have expended your defiance. The next occasion upon which you kneel before me, will mean you have returned for good. You will accept your destined role -- not as imprisonment, but as the privilege of commanding an empire."

Shuaibo lowered his forehead to the floor once more. "I understand."

He rose slowly, bowing once more before turning back down the garden path. Every step felt lighter, though the weight of centuries still hung over him, tempered by a new, fragile understanding.

At the compound gates, Li awaited with a sealed letter.

"For your university," Li said softly, with respect. "The Patriarch acts swiftly when moved."

Shuaibo took the letter. His hands remained steady.

Only his heart shook now.