Fu Yan stumbled back to his room, though he had no memory of how he got there. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, the reality of the situation began to weigh heavily on him. He sank into a chair, his body moving as though on autopilot.
For the first time, his mind, normally so sharp, proud, and full of schemes, was silent. There was no plan, no reasoning, no counterattack, no solution. How could there be when he had already been defeated without even making a move?
His hands trembled as he recalled the image burned into his memory. Hirvan, the man who occupied his thoughts day and night, was with someone else.
Fu Yan's heart twisted painfully, and he groaned, burying his face in his hands. His love, still in its budding stage, had been cruelly snapped before it could ever bloom.
The unfairness of it all was unbearable. He wanted to scream, to shout at the heavens, to demand why, of all people, it had to be him who lost. He couldn't accept it.