Still lounging in the tea room like conspirators in the middle of a scandalous drama, Madam Shen reached for her phone with a gleam in her eye that could only mean trouble.
Shen Yan raised a brow. "You're calling him now?"
"I'm not going to say anything," Madam Shen said sweetly, already dialing. "Just reminding him about the banquet tomorrow."
"You're putting him on speaker," Shen Yan muttered.
"Exactly."
The phone rang twice before it picked up.
Shen Rui's voice came through, calm and even. "Yes?"
"Ah, Rui," Madam Shen purred like she hadn't been plotting family-level espionage for the past half hour. "Just a quick reminder not to be late tomorrow evening. The banquet starts at six."
A pause. "Understood."
"You're still attending, aren't you?"
"Yes."
Shen Yan bit back a grin. She could practically hear the suspicion in her brother's voice.
"Good," their mother said, too breezily. "You've been so busy lately, I thought you might pull another vanishing act."
"I won't."
She hummed. "You know, you could bring someone this time. It wouldn't hurt to show the public you're not a work-obsessed machine."
"No."
Shen Yan elbowed the armrest in amusement.
"Why not?" Madam Shen pressed.
"Mother."
"I'm only saying," she said with exaggerated innocence, "people are starting to think you've sworn off all forms of companionship."
A longer pause. "I'll bring someone."
Both women froze.
"Oh?" Madam Shen said lightly, her fingers tightening slightly on the edge of her teacup.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
He hung up.
Shen Yan let out a short breath. "So he's bringing her."
Madam Shen slowly set her phone down like it was a sacred relic. "He didn't deny it."
"You heard what he said."
"I did."
They looked at each other.
Then both exploded into gleeful chaos like two teenagers who'd just uncovered their crush's secret diary.
"I haven't even seen her and I already like her," Madam Shen announced with conviction. "She must be something."
"She is," Shen Yan said, practically glowing. "I didn't ask questions, but… she's colder than Rui. I'm serious. I almost questioned if she was real."
"She makes him look warm?"
Shen Yan nodded. "I thought I was imagining it. She doesn't smile. She doesn't speak unless necessary. She just—exists. Like a ghost in a hoodie."
Madam Shen looked like she might cry from joy. "He found someone colder than himself. I'm proud of him."
Shen Yan reached for a cookie. "And she's not even trying. That's the best part."
Madam Shen leaned back, sighing dreamily. "Do you think she'll wear something dramatic tomorrow? I hope so. I already told the florist to do deep reds."
"I thought you picked soft pastels?"
"I changed it. I have a feeling she's not a pastel kind of girl."
"You haven't even met her."
Madam Shen grinned. "I don't need to. My son is voluntarily bringing a girl to a banquet. Do you know how serious that is?"
"Yes. Which is why you're not allowed to scare her tomorrow."
"I won't."
"You will."
"Only a little."
Shen Yan laughed. "You were ready to marry him off to one of those six heiresses last month."
"They're irrelevant now."
"Already?"
"I've moved on." Madam Shen held her teacup with poise. "If this girl blinked at him twice and he didn't walk away, she wins."
"I'm scared of her and I only saw her for five minutes."
"I'm already planning their wedding," Madam Shen said with a smile. "And their children's names. Maybe Ruiyan for the girl. Yichen for the boy."
"You're worse than I am."
"No. I'm a mother. I'm efficient."
They both laughed again—quiet, unhinged laughter with undertones of future bridal fittings and kidnapped proposals.
And not once did Madam Shen remember the six heiresses she once handpicked like trophies.
Not when her son—cold, impossible, famously single Shen Rui—had finally said the words:
I'll bring someone.
They didn't need confirmation.
They were already halfway to victory.
-----
She was curled up sideways on the wide leather chair in his office again—one leg tucked under her, the other dangling lazily as she scrolled through one of the documents he'd left open, not bothering to ask if she was allowed to.
Shen Rui walked in, fresh from another brutal meeting, suit jacket still buttoned, sleeves immaculate, expression unreadable. He barely glanced at her.
"You're in my seat," he said calmly, setting a file on the table.
"You weren't here," Lin Xie replied without looking up.
He sighed, rubbed his temple once, then sat across from her instead.
Silence.
Then—
"There was a woman," Lin Xie said flatly.
Shen Rui paused. "What?"
"She barged in. Looked shocked. Long hair. About five foot four. Wore lipstick. Red."
He slowly turned toward her. "When?"
"Earlier. While you were in your meeting. She stared at me. I stared back. She smiled. I did not."
His gaze narrowed. "…And?"
"She looked disappointed I didn't introduce myself."
Shen Rui exhaled slowly. "Did she say anything else?"
"No. Just stared. Like she was trying to figure something out." A pause. "She smiled like she was planning something. I didn't trust it."
He pressed his fingers against his temple. "What did she look like again?"
"Female. Approximately twenty-three. Wearing perfume. Likely your sister."
Shen Rui stared at her. "How do you know it's my sister?"
"She called you 'ge' under her breath."
Shen Rui sank deeper into his chair, eyes closing in slow, dawning realization.
So that was why his mother called.
Of course.
He should have known the moment the speakerphone rang and she asked sweetly about the banquet. That call hadn't been casual—it had been prompted. Instigated.
Planted.
By Shen Yan, most likely.
He let out a long breath, muttering, "I knew it was suspicious."
"She smiled like she wanted to adopt me," Lin Xie added blandly.
He gave her a side-eye. "You do leave a strong impression."
"I didn't do anything."
"That's exactly the problem."
She blinked at him. "Should I have smiled back?"
"No. That would've made it worse."
She considered. "Next time I'll walk away."
"She'll follow you."
"She looked like she could be distracted with sugar."
He stared at her again.
Lin Xie stared back.
Neither of them moved.
Outside, the office bustled. Inside, Shen Rui leaned his head back and muttered, "And now my mother thinks I'm in a relationship."
"You are."
"I'm not."
"You said I'm your girlfriend."
"I said that to avoid the six heiresses."
She tilted her head. "So now there are eight women trying to marry you?"
He shut his eyes. "Please stop counting them."
Lin Xie blinked slowly. "Strange. I thought being fake meant pretending. But everyone else seems very real about it."
Shen Rui groaned softly, defeated.
And Lin Xie, satisfied with that answer, swiveled in his chair again—right back into the center of his office, right back into his seat. Uninvited. Unapologetic.
A quiet hurricane in a hoodie.
And the reason his family now thought he was finally, finally in love.