Xuan Yang obliged. "The night you… returned," his voice softened slightly at the word, "Xu Zeng had to take Bai Mo aside several times so he could cry away from the others. Even Xu Hu Zhe went to placate him."
Xu Feng's lips parted slightly.
Xuan Yang continued, his voice flowing with a gentle hum, "Xu Zeng might not be willing to admit it, but I saw him cry as well. In Hu Zhe's arms. I wouldn't have left him to cry alone."
Xu Feng blinked, processing the words.
Xu Zeng had cried?
Xu Zeng, who had always carried himself with a calm, unshakable air?
Xu Feng suddenly thought about how close the three of them had become recently. They were each other's rocks, a quiet support system that had grown stronger in his absence. And yet, he—
He hadn't even let them grieve properly.
He hadn't let them feel.
Instead, he had been selfishly avoiding their pain because he couldn't handle his own.