The morning sun spilled golden across Liangcheng, washing the glass towers in pale light. Outside the headquarters of Luminar System, employees hurried in with coffee cups and laptops, the start of another week.
Amid the tide of workers, two figures walked side by side.
Lin Qing Yun adjusted the strap of her bag, the faintest crease between her brows. She was used to walking in quietly, blending into the crowd of assistants and coordinators. But today Gu Ze Yan's hand closed firmly around hers.
She tugged once, embarrassed, but his grip only tightened. His stride was leisurely, confident, his chin lifted as though declaring to the world: this is mine.
Her heart raced. She tried to shrink her shoulders, to lower her head, but she could feel the glances, the whispers trailing behind them. Ze Yan didn't care in the slightest.
"Ze Yan…" she murmured under her breath, cheeks heating.
He glanced at her, dark eyes bright with mischief. "What?"
"…Nothing."
She turned her face away, but she could feel his thumb brushing the back of her hand, a silent reassurance that he wasn't letting go.
The First Indulgence
That noon, when lunch break ended, Qing Yun dutifully packed up her files, preparing to return to her cubicle.
Ze Yan appeared, car keys in hand.
"Let's go."
Her eyes widened. "Go? Where?"
"Not back to the office." His smile curved, a fox's smile. "Somewhere better."
She didn't have time to protest before he ushered her into the elevator, his palm steady at the small of her back.
The car stopped in front of a towering spa complex. Inside, private rooms with silk curtains and faint sandalwood fragrance. A team of attendants whisked her away, laying her down in warm steam, massaging fragrant oils into her skin.
Two hours later, Qing Yun emerged glowing, arms heavy with bags of skincare and gifts.
She glared at him. "I can't use all this."
Ze Yan leaned against the car, smiling lazily. "Then let it sit there. I want you to have it."
"…You're impossible."
"Mm," he said, leaning down to murmur in her ear. "And you're radiant."
Her face burned hotter than the steam room.
The Second Indulgence
The next day, he didn't even wait for lunch. He strolled straight into the management floor like a king reclaiming his court. Shen Qiao looked up from her screen, one brow arched.
"I'm borrowing Sunny," Ze Yan announced casually, using the nickname he'd never once hidden.
Qing Yun nearly choked. "I—I still have reports to finish—"
Shen Qiao waved her off with a knowing smile.
And just like that, Qing Yun found herself in a boutique that smelled faintly of champagne. Attendants scurried with arms full of dresses.
Ze Yan lounged on a velvet chair, watching her try one outfit after another. His gaze was too intense, too unashamed, making her stumble on her own heels as she stepped out of the fitting room.
"You're staring."
"I am," he said simply, lips curving.
She flushed scarlet.
The Third Indulgence
By the third day, he dragged her to a salon. Her hair was curled into soft waves, her face brushed with professional light makeup.
That evening, she arrived at the bookstore café. Her manager blinked in shock.
"Miss Lin? I thought you were a rich college student who got lost."
Qing Yun laughed awkwardly. "It's still me."
But inside, she wondered: how long can I live like this, wearing masks that don't belong to me?
The Pushback
On the fourth day, she saw him striding toward her cubicle again.
"Ze Yan—" she interrupted sharply, holding up a hand before he spoke.
He paused, blinking.
"I don't want more spas or clothes or makeup. I need to work, or Shen Qiao will scold me. And my apartment…" She let out a breath. "…already looks like a storage unit. Please, stop."
For a moment, silence.
Then he laughed, shoulders shaking. "Alright, alright. No more kidnapping." He leaned down, voice soft against her ear. "Just lunch. With me."
Lunch in the President's Office
His desk was set with dishes, steam curling from porcelain. He pulled out her chair like a gentleman.
As they ate, he said gently, "Sunny, don't overwork yourself."
She gave him a side-eye. "You're the one making me work harder, always dragging me away."
He chuckled, but she went on, her tone serious.
"Shen Qiao… she's like a mentor to me. I don't even have a degree, but she respects me, teaches me things no school could. I can't waste this chance. I don't want to disappoint her. Or you."
His chest ached. She looked so earnest, so determined.
Before she could finish, he cupped her face and kissed her, sudden and warm.
Her chopsticks froze midair.
When he pulled back, his voice was husky. "I'm proud. Proud you're mine."
Her cheeks blazed. He leaned in again, kissing her deeper this time.
The door swung open.
Chen Rui froze, eyes widening. "Ah—sorry, I—" He spun on his heel and vanished.
Qing Yun shot up, stammering something unintelligible before fleeing as well.
Ze Yan leaned back in his chair, lips still curved in smug satisfaction.
--
Later that week, he stopped by the bookstore café.
"There's a banquet this weekend," he said casually. "I want you with me."
Her heart skipped. "…Okay."
That Saturday, he took her back to the elite styling building. The team greeted them warmly, pulling out gowns, shoes, glittering jewelry.
They swept her hair into a soft updo, brushed subtle but sophisticated makeup across her features, slid emerald earrings into her ears.
When she stepped out, Ze Yan's gaze caught her like a snare.
"…Perfect," he murmured, voice thick.
She ducked her head, ears burning.
--
The Banquet
The hall glittered with chandeliers, glasses clinking under golden light. Men in tailored suits spoke in clipped tones, women in jeweled gowns laughed with voices too polished, too poised.
Qing Yun stood at Ze Yan's side, smiling politely, nodding at conversations that floated like meaningless bubbles.
Her heart felt heavy. Is this what life beside him means? Glitter and small talk, masks and polite laughter?
She sneaked a glance at him. His hand covered hers, thumb brushing her knuckles, grounding her. His warmth anchored her, as if saying: I'm here.
She smiled softly, but inside, a whisper lingered: By choosing him… is this the life I'll have to live?