Chapter 259: On My Own Terms

Runze’s POV

The solid mahogany doors click shut, cutting off the rhythmic clatter of my mother’s heels against the marble foyer.

Through the curtains lining the floor-to-ceiling windows, I watch my parents walk down the stone steps. My father’s shoulders are stiff, his posture rigid with suppressed fury, while my mother clutches the silk ribbon of the house pastry box as if it were a consolation prize. They step into their car without looking back, the engine turning over as the vehicle glides past the gates.

A soft rustle draws my attention to the side table.

Just before stepping out behind our parents, Feifei had lingered for a split second. Without a word, she had slipped a small, hand-knitted pair of pale blue baby booties beside the vase of orchids.

They weren’t wrapped in luxury foil, nor did they bear a designer label bought from a corporate expense account. They were simple, soft yarn, crafted with quiet, patient hands.

I stare at the small pair of shoes for a long moment, the tightness in my chest easing into a calm, steady breath.

"They won’t be back for a while," a quiet voice murmurs near my ear.

A pair of strong arms slides around my waist from behind, pulling me back against a solid, broad chest. Bael rests his chin lightly against my shoulder, his scent enveloping me in an effortless embrace. His hands clasp over mine, framing Siying as she rests quietly against my chest.

"That was brutal," Bael murmurs near my ear, a faint thread of dry amusement in his voice. "I didn’t realize a sweet smile could be used like a weapon."

I lean back against his chest, letting out a quiet exhale. "They left me no choice. If you give them an inch, they’ll take the whole house."

"You didn’t even give them a step," Bael says softly, his lips lightly touching my temple. "Very sharp. I liked it."

A sharp, deliberate cough echoes from across the tea table.

Grandmother sets down her empty teacup, the porcelain making a dry clink against the saucer. She adjusts the folds of her silk sleeves, her grey eyes shifting over to where Bael and I stand.

"You did well, Runze," Grandmother says, her voice smooth and measured. "You established the boundary of this household without lowering yourself to common arguments. That is how the host of the Wuchen house is expected to conduct himself."

"Thank you, Grandmother," I reply, inclining my head with genuine respect.

"However," she continues, her gaze sharpening just a fraction, "do not grow careless. Inside these walls, you control the room. Outside, every reporter and rival will be looking for a reason to frame you as cold or unfilial. Your parents won’t forget this. Just be mindful of your optics when you step outside the gates."

She reaches out, her slender, aged fingers briefly touching my forearm. The gesture is brief, almost fleeting, but the silent approval in her eyes is unmistakable.

Before I can answer, Siying twitches in her swaddle. Her tiny face scrunches up, a quiet whimpering sound rising from her chest before dissolving into a sudden, high-pitched cry.

"Looks like someone is demanding attention," Bael says, immediately shifting his posture. His Alpha aura settles over the room in a gentle wave, soothing the edge of Siying’s fussiness as he carefully reaches down to take her from my arms.

"I will take her to the nursery," Bael says, cradling her against his shoulder with practiced ease, his large hand supporting her head. "Rest for an hour. You’ve dealt with enough stress for one morning."

I smile softly, watching him walk toward the grand staircase with our daughter before I follow and make my way toward our bedroom on the second floor.

The room is quiet and dim, a welcome relief after the morning’s tension. I kick off my shoes and sink into the bed, leaning back against the soft pillows.

My phone hums against the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a familiar contact name: Elliot Jun.

I pick it up, sliding the screen open. "Elliot?"

"Runze," Elliot’s voice comes through the speaker, easy and warm. "I hope I’m not interrupting anything."

"Not at all. Just finished dealing with a few visitors," I say, sinking back against the cushions. "How are things with you?"

"Good, good. First off—congratulations on the baby," Elliot says with a faint laugh. "I saw the news. I’m really happy for you both."

"Thanks, Elliot. That means a lot."

A brief pause follows, quiet and comfortable, before Elliot lets out a small, quiet sigh.

"Look... I also wanted to say I’m sorry about Haowei," he says, sounding genuinely exasperated by his own family. "Mr. Wuchen probably mentioned it to you, but I found out he was behind those media leaks a few weeks ago. It was a petty move, and I’m really sorry my brother caused you two hassle."

"Don’t worry about it," I say smoothly. "Bael told me about it, but I know you had nothing to do with Haowei’s antics. You don’t have to apologize for him."

"I know, but still," Elliot chuckles softly. "Anyway... what’s next for you? Are you taking time off work for a while, or are you secretly designing something already?"

A faint smile touches my lips. "I’m actually setting up my own architecture studio."

Elliot laughs on the other end. "I knew it. The second we finished the Dingshan project, I knew you’d end up doing your own thing."

"You did?"

"Of course. But honestly? When Haowei pitched that joint studio proposal to you under Jun Holdings, I thought you’d take it," Elliot admits softly. "I figured you were trying to set up something away from Wuchen Group, so an offer from us made sense. I didn’t realize you meant standing on your own completely—without Wuchen backing, and without us either."

"I want my work to be entirely mine," I say simply. "No parent companies, no family names attached. Just my own studio."

Elliot stays quiet for a beat, a clear sense of appreciation in his tone when he answers. "That’s fair. And honestly, if anyone can build a name purely on their own work, it’s you. Just make sure I get an invite when you officially open."

"You will," I say with a slight smile.

"Good. Take care of yourself, Runze. Give my regards to Mr. Wuchen and the baby."

"I will. Talk to you later, Elliot."

I disconnect the call and set the phone back down on the nightstand.

I lie back against the pillows, closing my eyes as the quiet room settles around me.

For the first time in weeks, my head feels light, clear, and ready for what comes next.