Chapter 1: First Night at the Bar
Haijing City.
At night, Majestic Club was buzzing, every VIP room fully booked. It was the go-to spot for the city's elite.
It was Yuman's first night working at the bar. She was desperate for money, and her childhood friend had told her this place was the fastest way to earn.
"The more they drink, the more you earn, right?"
She tugged awkwardly at the navy-blue bodycon dress her friend had lent her.
The manager gave her a once-over, then yanked down the hem of her dress roughly.
Rrrip.
The fabric slipped beneath her hips, revealing pale, slender thighs. Yuman gasped and tried to cover herself.
The manager smirked.
"Not bad. You're cute—just too plain. I've got a room for you. Be sweet, and you'll get a nice tip."
Yuman wasn't quite sure what he meant. All she knew was what her friend told her: make the men drink, make money.
Fresh off the farm and new to the city, she was still learning the ropes.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the heavy VIP room door.
A man was sprawled on the leather sofa inside.
The lighting was dim. She couldn't make out his face, but he wore a sleek tailored suit, a luxury watch glinting on his wrist. His legs were casually crossed, and his fingers tugged at his tie. His flushed neck and restless movements made it clear—he was burning up.
"Would you like more to drink?" Yuman asked softly.
She glanced at the table—four or five empty bottles of premium liquor. How could one person drink so much?
At the sound of her voice, the man's bloodshot eyes snapped open.
His gaze locked on her long, pale legs and the tight dress hugging her waist. Yuman hesitated, then stepped forward. She needed him to drink more—that was how she got paid.
But as she approached, she saw his face redden more.
"Sir… Are you allergic to alcohol?" she asked, concerned.
The man's breath came in ragged gasps. Alarmed, Yuman knelt and began unbuttoning his shirt to help him breathe.
She'd once worked with a barefoot doctor back home—basic emergency care wasn't new to her.
She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. Scorching hot.
"I'll call an ambulance—"
Suddenly, his hand clamped around hers. With a surprising strength, he pulled her onto his chest.
"I need…" he murmured, lips grazing her ear.
A shiver ran down her spine.
Yuman stiffened. This wasn't a reaction to alcohol—he'd been drugged.
She glanced back at the small window in the door. The manager was outside, talking to a woman. They ignored her shout.
"Manager! He's not okay!"
No response.
Then—the man flipped her onto the ground. Glass bottles clattered around her. His breath was hot against her skin.
"Call me husband," he growled.
Before she could protest, his kiss silenced her.
She panicked. If someone found out… how could she return to her village?
When he finally moved deeper, pain lanced through her.
An hour later, Yuman could finally breathe again.
Flushed and shaken, she curled up, arms crossed over her chest.
The man was calmer now. The drugs had worn off.
He looked at the girl before him—her bare shoulders, pale neck marked with faint bruises.
"Who sent you?" he asked, picking up his shirt.
All he remembered was drinking with his fiancée, Lin Lin, before this strange girl had touched his face.
"The manager," Yuman replied, still trembling.
His brows drew together.
"I'll pay you. Let's pretend this never happened."
Yuman looked up, jaw clenched.
"I want 300,000 yuan."
His eyes narrowed.
So she's just another girl who'll sell herself for money.
"I don't have that kind of money. I'm just a worker. But fine—leave your number. I'll get it to you."
It was a lie, of course. That sum was pocket change for his family's pet. But he didn't want her to vanish with the cash.
Yuman took the phone, covering herself with one arm.
"Will you really pay me? That's not a small amount."
He tossed her his jacket.
"When I get it."
Yuman was always slow to react. She might realize she was being scammed days later—but right now, she had no choice.
He seemed to be looking for something. She asked,
"Did you lose something?"
"My ring."
He stepped closer, eyes scanning her.
"Did you take it?"
"What? No! I didn't even know you had one!"
She rushed to turn on the lights. The room brightened. He bent near the sofa—and then froze.
On the floor, a single drop of red on white: a bloodstain.
His eyes darkened.
She was a virgin.
"You… You really work here?"
Yuman nodded, cheeks puffed in frustration.
Just then, the door burst open. Yuman was nearly thrown into the corner, but a large hand caught her head just in time.
"Thank you…" she murmured.
The man's eyes narrowed as he looked at the door.
"Lin Lin."
Yuman turned. The woman standing there had a sharp, delicate face twisted with fury. Her gown was elegant. The bag in her hand—definitely a luxury brand.
Yuman recognized the woman. She had seen her through the door earlier.
"You're cheating on me? With a bar girl? Disgusting. No money and no class. Thank God I never let you touch me."
Yuman looked down, silent.
Then she saw the ring box by the sofa.
"How do you know she works here?" the man asked, coldly.
Lin Lin stammered,
"Her clothes… obviously!"
Yuman picked up the box and handed it over.
"Here's your ring. It was under the sofa. Don't say I took it."
He took it, lips twitching. Then he turned, eyes gleaming.
He slid the ring onto Yuman's finger.
"Will you marry me?"