Luo Binghe holds him as tight as he can, burying his face in Shen Yuan's hair. He breathes in his smell, grounds himself in the frantic rush of Shen Yuan's blood through his veins, the warmth of his living body—not the right one, but healthy and strong. Tears rise to his eyes again, hot and caustic. "I'm here," he whispers. "I love you." It's not enough to make up for what happened to Shen Yuan, but it's all Luo Binghe can offer.