It started with a message at 6:00 a.m. sharp.
From Madam Shen.
Shen Rui had just woken up, barely sat up in bed when his phone buzzed. He didn't need to check the sender—only one person in the world dared to send him emojis and voice messages this early.
He tapped play.
[Rui'er, since you've been back in the capital and haven't visited our house even once, your mother is officially declaring war. You and Xie Xie better come to dinner. No excuses. I already told the chef. And Shen Yan. And your father. Don't make me show up at your place.]
He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. Lin Xie was still asleep beside him, her breathing steady, one hand curled like a small threat near his ribs.
He glanced down at her. "We've been summoned."
She opened her eyes instantly.
"I heard the voice note," she said.
"You were asleep."
"My auditory sensors don't shut down."
He sighed again.
---
The Shen estate was already familiar to Lin Xie.
She'd walked its stone paths, memorized its security routes, catalogued the exact time it took for the koi in the pond to complete a full loop. She knew which wall sconces were sensor-triggered and which corners of the main hall had weak Wi-Fi signals.
She had even once reprogrammed the old espresso machine in the third kitchen after Madam Shen called it "temperamental."
What she hadn't fully grasped—yet—was why the Shen family treated her like she belonged.
It still didn't compute.
"Don't overthink it," Shen Rui murmured beside her as they stepped out of the car. "You've been here more than I have this month."
"Statistical probability does not equate to emotional inclusion."
"You're overthinking it."
"I always do."
He reached out and adjusted the collar of her blouse—black, tailored, unadorned, like everything else she owned. She didn't flinch.
"Just eat, nod, and don't disassemble anything tonight," he added.
"Noted."
The doors opened before they could knock. The butler gave a small bow and stepped aside.
"Welcome back, Miss Lin. Master Shen. Madam is waiting."
They didn't even get five steps inside before Madam Shen swept down the stairs like a woman ten years younger.
"There you are! Took you long enough. We started dinner late just for you!"
"We are four minutes early," Lin Xie said.
"Exactly," Madam Shen smiled. "Which is why you're late in spirit. Come."
She latched onto Lin Xie's hand without hesitation, leading her toward the dining wing while Shen Rui trailed after them, expression caught somewhere between amusement and resignation.
Shen Yan was already at the table, bouncing in her seat. "Jiejie! You came again! I told Mom you would. Frogs never lie."
"I was not aware frogs had moral alignments."
"Mine do," Shen Yan said proudly. "I taught them myself."
Master Shen sat at the head of the table, sipping tea like a man who had long given up trying to control the chaos around him. He gave Lin Xie a brief nod as they entered.
"You fixed the espresso machine," he said, apropos of nothing.
"Yes."
"It works now."
"I know."
"Good."
And just like that, he returned to his tea.
Dinner was already being served—braised duck, winter melon soup, stir-fried asparagus with scallops, and a lazy Susan so full of homecooked chaos it would've made any five-star chef cry.
Madam Shen pulled Lin Xie down beside her like a favorite cousin. "Eat more this time, hmm? Don't be polite."
"She's never polite," Shen Rui said, settling across the table.
"I am selectively polite," Lin Xie corrected, reaching for the soup with flawless chopstick precision.
Shen Yan was vibrating again. "I have frog updates."
Lin Xie blinked. "Continue."
"I built them a castle. It's made of cardboard and very unstable."
"Fortifications need reinforcement."
"I knew you'd say that!"
The meal went on like that—noisy, light, and far from what Lin Xie was used to.
Master Shen occasionally asked about stock market trends. Shen Rui answered without looking up from peeling shrimp for Lin Xie's bowl. Madam Shen scolded him for peeling too slowly. Shen Yan described her school drama like it was a soap opera set in a frog kingdom.
At one point, Madam Shen handed Lin Xie a small fabric pouch.
"This is the matching twin charm to the one I gave you last time," she said. "A little something for protection."
"I have no proven enemies in this house."
"That's not the point."
"I will still carry it."
"You better."
Shen Rui said nothing, but his foot nudged Lin Xie's gently under the table.
Later, dessert arrived—fluffy taro pastries and almond jelly. Shen Yan dumped half a spoon of sugar into hers and offered the rest to Lin Xie.
"I do not process sweetness the same way," Lin Xie said.
"But you still eat it."
"Yes."
"That's what matters."
Master Shen finally looked up again. "She's part of the family. Always has been."
Lin Xie paused mid-bite.
"I am aware," she said quietly.
He nodded. "Then don't act like you're still on trial."
Madam Shen leaned over and gently tapped her wrist. "We love you, Xiao Xie. You don't need to say it back. But you should know it."
Lin Xie's eyes dropped to her plate.
"I am… attempting to adjust to consistent acceptance."
Shen Rui gave her hand a subtle squeeze beneath the table.
"You're doing fine," he said.
She squeezed back, just once.
After dinner, they walked through the garden as usual. Shen Yan ran ahead with two frog plushies held aloft like they were leading a cavalry charge. Madam Shen trailed behind, chatting happily about flowers. Master Shen stayed inside with his pipe and financial forecasts.
Shen Rui and Lin Xie stayed near the middle—quiet, close, walking in step.
"She gave you another charm," Shen Rui said softly.
"She insists on physical tokens of sentiment," Lin Xie replied. "I accept them."
"You didn't put it in your pocket."
"I want to see it."
He glanced down. She held the charm loosely in her hand, like something rare she didn't fully understand.
"You're adjusting," he said.
"Slowly."
"That's alright."
"I do not understand most of their expressions."
"You will."
"They… touch a lot."
"Families do."
"They speak redundantly."
"They call that affection."
She looked up at him. "And you?"
"I just call it us."
Lin Xie fell quiet for several paces.
Then—very softly—"I want to keep being part of 'us.'"
He didn't smile.
But he reached over and laced his fingers with hers again.
"You already are."