Next morning. Zhu Empire.
The air in the conference room was crisp, polished, like the glass walls that reflected the skyline beyond. At the head of the long mahogany table, Zhu Zihan sat, posture straight, fingers lightly resting on the black hard-cover file before him. His gaze swept the room once, sharp and assessing, pinning each collaborator in silence before lowering to the file.
He opened it with calm precision and gave a subtle wave of his hand, a gesture that spoke louder than words.
"Mr. Qiao, please start," Secretary Lin said, her voice steady, professional.
Mr. Qiao cleared his throat, leaning forward slightly. "It's the middle of the year. Our country's red carpet is just around the corner, and we want our brand's name not just present but skyrocketing. To meet this year's projected budget gains, we believe this collaboration between our companies is the most effective route." He paused, searching for Zihan's face. "With both sides working together, I'm confident we can reach the goal."
Silence followed. Heavy, Intentional. Zihan didn't rush. He tapped his index finger once against the file, then finally looked up, voice low and composed. "…We can do that," he said, every word deliberate. Then, after a pause that tightened the air, he added, "But sponsoring you, comes with a cost."
"... We are aware of that Mr Zhu, this is business after all". He paused. "So our company decided that the profit will be divided, 20% to your company and 80% to ours". Mr Qiao spoke.
The words hung in the air like an insult. A few executives shifted uncomfortably in their seats, some even lowering their eyes.
Zihan leaned back in his chair, the faintest smile tugging at his lips, cold. "Not acceptable," he repeated, his tone soft but carrying the weight of finality.
His gaze locked onto Mr. Qiao, unblinking. "You approach the Zhu Empire, asking for collaboration. You want our name, our resources, our influence and yet, you offer crumbs in return." He paused, letting the silence stretch. "…Tell me, Mr. Qiao, do you think the Zhu Empire is running a charity?"
A murmur ran across the table. Mr. Qiao swallowed hard, struggling to keep his composure.
Before he could form an excuse, Zihan leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping, steel wrapped in velvet. "Here's my counter: profits are to be split fifty-fifty. That is already generous considering what you stand to gain. Refuse…" His eyes darkened, a shadow cutting across his face. "…and we both know whose loss it will become".
The room went dead silent. Even Secretary Lin's pen froze mid-stroke.
Mr. Qiao's lips parted, then closed again. He glanced at his associates, their pale faces offering no support, before forcing a stiff nod. "...Of course, Mr. Zhu. Fifty-fifty."
Zihan gave a single, almost bored nod, as if the outcome had been obvious from the start. "Deal, then?"
He extended his palm without looking, and Secretary Lin immediately placed another file into it. The gesture was so seamless, so rehearsed, that it spoke volumes of how well his office revolved around his precision.
He flipped the file open, eyes skimming the pages with effortless speed before sliding it across the polished table toward Mr. Qiao. "Let's finalize it."
Mr. Qiao's hand trembled faintly as he took the pen, signing with the stiffness of a man who knew he had been cornered. When he pushed the file back, Zihan signed his name with calm, fluid strokes, then closed the file with a soft thud that seemed to echo louder than it should have.
Without another glance, he handed it back to Lin and rose, his movements unhurried, elegant, but carrying the finality of someone who never lingered once business was concluded.
The other executives instinctively stood as he walked past, bowing their heads slightly as if acknowledging a king leaving his throne.
Zihan didn't so much as glance back. He simply left the conference room, his presence still pressing heavy in the air long after the doors shut behind him.
By the time he reached his office, his phone was already in hand. :I'll send a car to pick you up.
He didn't wait for a reply before instructing his driver to head directly to Serene Hotels. Then, as if nothing else mattered, he drowned himself in work.
Hours passed. He almost didn't notice the time until the shift in the air told him she had arrived. A rare moment of quiet, different from the static noise of business, crept in. He rose, and sure enough, there she was.
Guo Min entered the lobby of Zhu Empire like she owned it. White tailored pants, a six-button double-breasted blazer, hair swept to one side, white heels that echoed against the marble floor, a sleek black in her hand.
Zihan stood several meters away, watching her cut through the crowd of employees. His lips curved faintly when he caught the subtle scowl tugging her features, the glare she threw at anyone foolish enough to stare. She was beautiful even when annoyed, maybe especially then.
She reached the elevators, about to step in, when her eyes flicked up and caught him.
"…Seriously, Zihan, do you find pleasure in disturbing my work?" she demanded, striding toward him with all the force of her glare.
"It does give me pleasure to see you," he replied smoothly, his voice a shade lower as he tilted her chin lightly upward. "Especially that fiery cat's glare."
"Zihan," she warned, exhaling in irritation. "While it's nice hearing such things from you, I am really busy right now. You do your work, I don't disturb you. Why do you insist on disturbing me when I do mine?"
"…You can use my office to work," he said simply, as if it were the most logical solution in the world.
Her laugh was sharp, almost disbelieving. "Hey, this isn't some type of fantasy story, Zihan." She shook her head, brushing past him into the private elevator.
The doors were almost closing when suddenly his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back against him. His actions were very much intentional.
Gasps went unvoiced, but the entire floor caught it.
The office fell into a feigned silence. Papers shuffled louder than usual, keyboards clacked a little too forcefully. Every employee kept their eyes fixed on their screens, but the tension was unmistakable. Rumors were already being born in whispers at the back of everyone's mind.
Inside the elevator, Guo Min stiffened against him, eyes narrowing even as her pulse betrayed her calm exterior.
"... what are you doing?" she glared.
He only smirked, unbothered, his hold unyielding as the doors slid shut, cutting off the world outside.