The curtains were drawn halfway, letting the pale light of spring seep into the suite. Haiyun's winter damp had finally given way to a milder warmth, and the soft glow washed across the bed in the presidential suite of the hotel.
Gu Ze Yan stirred first. Years of business trips had trained his body to wake before alarms, though today there was no reason to rush. He opened his eyes and the first thing he saw wasn't the ceiling—or the view outside the window—but her.
Lin Qing Yun.
She lay facing him, her breathing slow and even, lashes resting gently against her cheeks. Strands of dark hair had slipped loose during the night, falling over her face.
For one moment, he forgot the banquet, forgot Zhao Corporation, forgot everything but this simple, quiet scene.
This… this was his dream. Waking up and the first sight being her. Though nothing romantic happened last night.
His hand moved almost on instinct, brushing away the stray hair. His fingertips lingered, stroking her cheek lightly, as though memorizing her softness. He wanted the time to stop, just here, just like this.
And then her lashes fluttered. Slowly, Qing Yun's eyes opened.
Instead of flinching away, she blinked at him in drowsy calm, then smiled, her lips curving like dawn. "Morning," she whispered.
Caught red-handed with his palm still at her cheek, Ze Yan chuckled softly. "Morning. Did you sleep well?"
"Mm," she stretched slightly, her voice still thick with sleep. "Very well. You?"
"Better than I have in years," he answered honestly.
For a moment, neither of them moved, just lying there with the morning caught between them. Then Qing Yun tilted her head, her smile turning playful. "Your hair's a disaster."
Ze Yan raised a brow. "So you've been staring long enough to analyze my hairstyle?"
Her cheeks flushed. "No! It's just obvious." She rolled over, burying her face in the blanket.
He laughed under his breath, a warm sound that filled the quiet suite. If mornings could always begin like this…
--
Breakfast with Interruptions
By the time they went downstairs, the breakfast hall was already lively with guests. The spread stretched across tables: steaming baskets of dumplings, golden pastries, bowls of fresh fruit, and fragrant tea.
Qing Yun's eyes lit up. She took a small plate and began collecting food like a careful squirrel, each pick thoughtful but enthusiastic.
Ze Yan, seated across from her with just coffee and toast, couldn't look away. She ate with such simple joy, each bite making her brighten. He smirked. "You eat like a hamster storing winter supplies."
She paused mid-bite, glaring. "You're watching me too seriously. Unfair advantage."
He leaned back. "Observation is one of my talents."
Before she could retort, a voice called: "Mr. Gu!"
Several Zhao Corporation board members, here for the banquet, had noticed him. They approached, greeting him with smiles that were polite but edged with curiosity.
Ze Yan stood, shaking hands, exchanging obligatory pleasantries. By the time he returned, half his coffee was cold.
Qing Yun slid her plate across. "Eat this before someone else kidnaps you for small talk."
He smiled faintly. "What are you then? My bodyguard? My nutritionist?"
"Babysitter," she corrected, sipping her tea with a huff.
--
Back in their suite, peace didn't last long. At precisely noon, the doorbell chimed and chaos arrived.
Xin Yue's reinforcements had come: makeup artists, hairstylists, racks of gowns, trays of jewelry. The quiet living room turned into a bustling backstage area.
Before Qing Yun could protest, she was swept into a chair. Brushes moved with swift precision, powders and palettes flashing.
Ze Yan leaned against the sofa, arms crossed, quietly watching as they transformed her.
Her makeup was a little bolder than her usual, but it didn't hide her natural beauty—it highlighted it, making her glow. Her hair was pinned into a loose updo, elegant and soft.
Xin Yue had also sent an afternoon snack: small caramel puddings in glass cups.
Ze Yan took one, savoring it. "Mm. Perfect."
From the chair, Qing Yun shot him a sharp, envious look.
Amused, he picked up another pudding, walked over, and spoon-fed her carefully so as not to smudge her lipstick.
The stylists let out a collective aww.
Qing Yun blushed. "Don't make it sound like a show," she muttered, but her lips curved into an unwilling smile.
When her hair and makeup were finished, the stylists presented a gown: a dark green floor-length dress, structured yet flowing, with subtle embroidery along the hem.
Lin Qing Yun changed in the bedroom, emerging minutes later in the gown, paired with emerald jewelry and simple heels.
Ze Yan, now in a tailored black-tie suit, turned at the sound of the door. And froze.
She looked… luminous.
Qing Yun walked toward him, smoothing the skirt nervously. "I'm ready."
His lips curved slowly. "…So am I."
--
Entering the Banquet
The banquet hall was in the same hotel, so no need for cars. They walked together down the corridor, the faint murmur of music already audible.
At the entrance, staff bowed them in. Guests turned, eyes following instantly.
Ze Yan offered his hand. Qing Yun took it without hesitation, fingers curling into his.
Hand in hand, they stepped forward—not only into the banquet hall, but into the storm of family and legacy awaiting them.
Whispers rippled through the crowd. "Is that President Gu?" "Who's the woman?" "She's stunning…"
The doors opened fully, light spilling across them as the Zhao family lifted their heads to watch.
And just like that, every gaze in the room fixed on Gu Ze Yan and Lin Qing Yun—standing together, their hands clasped, looking every bit the perfect couple.