Amber and Onyx

The next week passed in a blur.

Mo Yichen would visit Xia Ruyan's room daily, spending quiet moments with her. He updated her on the work at the office, and she would listen, sometimes offering a comment or two. Though silence often settled between them, it was, for once, not uncomfortable.

Sometimes, both Mo Yichen and Mo Yize would join her in the back courtyard during her evening tea. It had become an unspoken rule that this part of the mansion belonged to her. Mo Yichen made sure everyone knew that. It had been an instinctive decision, one that took root the moment he saw her seated beneath the bamboo umbrella, reading a book in that quiet, forgotten corner.

The courtyard had rarely been used before. The Mo Mansion was vast, grand enough to leave several rooms and courtyards untouched. Yet this space had come alive with her presence. Marie had planted a few fragrant herbs, just enough for the scent to linger gently in the breeze. And now, that once-abandoned courtyard bloomed quietly in her company.

There, she would sit, gazing at the open sky, watching the leaves dance in the wind, or reading, tea in hand. Mo Yichen found himself drawn to that stillness, joining her when he could. Sometimes, Mo Yize would tag along, bringing with him a youthful energy that neither of them stopped.

One such evening, Mo Yichen was on his way home. His phone rang, his friends inviting him out for drinks. But instead, he longed for that courtyard, for the silence, for the tea. He sighed. Things were changing, and he hadn't even noticed when.

As he walked in, he saw her again, Xia Ruyan, seated under the umbrella. Mo Yize was with her, speaking animatedly, while she listened attentively. Something about the sight pricked at him, hard. He paused, just watching. Then, sighing softly, he stepped forward.

She wore a loose white dress, modest and flowing, covering her from neck to ankle. She looked so delicate. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, one that had slipped from her bun, and he caught sight of the healing scar on her wrist. Again, something inside him twisted. Sharper this time.

"Mo Yize, you seem to have a lot of free time," he said, taking a seat beside them. His voice was calm, but the words were edged.

Mo Yize, startled, jumped in his chair. "Brother!"

"Should I find you some work?" Mo Yichen continued, leaning back. "Perhaps in Vietnam?"

His eyes didn't leave Xia Ruyan. And for the briefest moment, he thought he saw a flicker of amusement in hers.

"Why are you always so cruel to me?" Mo Yize groaned dramatically, pulling a napkin out of nowhere and biting on it for effect. It was ridiculous.

Mo Yichen blinked, speechless. He honestly didn't know how to respond to this man-child of a brother. Come to think of it, he had never been close to any of them. They respected and feared him, idolized him, even, but they had never been close. It was only because of Xia Ruyan that he had begun spending more time with his youngest sibling. And what he had discovered was an overgrown child.

He sighed internally.

"So, what were you discussing so passionately?" he asked, curiosity winning. What had prompted the ever-distant Xia Ruyan to engage in a conversation with his immature brother?

"Oh, we were talking about alienation," Mo Yize replied enthusiastically. He had discovered that Xia Ruyan was not only well-read but had a unique way of analyzing things. They had been discussing the concept of alienation for the past forty minutes and would've continued if Mo Yichen hadn't arrived.

"Well, Sister-in-law has an interesting take. I always thought alienation was self-inflicted, that when someone feels out of place in their life, they create distance on purpose, searching for meaning elsewhere. That's alienation to me."

"Mn," Mo Yichen nodded. "It depends on the context. Alienation can take many forms. For instance, a worker being unable to afford the very product he manufactures, that too is alienation," he added, shifting the discussion toward an economic angle.

Mo Yize nodded, intrigued. Just then, Marie arrived with fresh tea. The sweet scent of lemongrass drifted through the air. She placed the tray in front of them, three cups, accompanied by small, velvety, colorful cakes.

Xia Ruyan picked up her cup and leaned back slightly.

"It can be anything, once you contextualize it," she said softly. "But I believe it's usually an external force that causes alienation, from people or things."

Both brothers turned to her, waiting.

"If the system doesn't force inequality, then why would the worker who created the product be unable to consume it? He's alienated by circumstance, by not earning enough to access what he helped build." She glanced at Mo Yichen, who nodded in agreement.

"And if society didn't impose norms, how would anyone know they didn't belong? Even within a family, if you're made to feel like an outsider, you're alienated. It doesn't always require physical distance. Sometimes, it's the heart that leaves when the body can't."

Her voice was steady, but her words struck something deeper. Mo Yize stared, wide-eyed. As a psychology student, he understood the concept, but he hadn't thought about it like that. Her interpretation gave him a new lens.

Mo Yichen, too, was looking at her. Her expression, usually unreadable, was now touched with emotion. Her amber eyes seemed softer, as if they carried some weight.

"Did you lose yours?" he asked before he could stop himself.

She looked up, surprised, and their eyes locked, her warm amber gaze clashing with his deep, vortex-like onyx ones.

"Your heart," he clarified. "Did you lose it?"

For a moment, it was just the two of them, under the bamboo umbrella, surrounded by the hum of evening. Everything else faded.

"Why do you ask?" she countered gently.

He didn't look away. "You seem lost. As if you've buried something deep."

She blinked, and the moment shattered. She looked away, and once again, he felt that strange emptiness inside him.

Silence settled again. Even Mo Yize couldn't bring back the sound.