Luminar had changed.
The company that once began inside a cramped office, with wires hanging loose and screens flickering, now stood tall in its own tower—glass walls glittering in the sun, the name Luminar System carved proudly at the entrance. And yet, for all the grandeur, the thing employees whispered most about was not the new building, nor the contracts it had won.
It was their CEO.
Gu Ze Yan, once feared for his perfection and cold aura, now walked through the building differently. His lips softened. His eyes warmed. And the reason was simple: Lin Qing Yun.
---
For a month now, she had worked quietly under Shen Qiao's management office. She didn't take any special role, didn't demand attention. She was simply there, calm, poised, elegant, sharing her knowledge with interns and helping where needed.
But Ze Yan couldn't hide his attachment.
He checked on her two, sometimes three times a day. He leaned against the doorframe, pretending to talk business with Shen Qiao while his gaze never left Qing Yun's side profile. When he stayed late at the office, he still made time to walk to her department just to tell her he couldn't take her home. Then he arranged for his chauffeur, personally watching her leave before returning to work.
The employees noticed. Gossip spread like wildfire.
"The boss looks at her like…" one intern whispered.
"…like a husband checking if his wife had lunch," another giggled.
Qing Yun remained oblivious, or perhaps she chose not to acknowledge it. She went about her work, polite and collected, her voice calm in meetings, her smile rare but enough to disarm anyone lucky enough to see it.
---
That weekend, Luminar was to host a banquet—an event for investors, government officials, and business partners. As the host, Gu Ze Yan's presence was unavoidable.
At breakfast, he brought it up.
"Qing Yun," he asked gently, "will you come with me tonight?"
Her spoon paused over the porridge. She didn't answer right away. Instead, she lifted her eyes slowly, giving him a look that made his chest ache—eyes wide, quiet, filled with hesitation.
A silent plea.
He chuckled, lowering his gaze to hide how much he wanted to reach for her. "You don't like such things, do you?"
She blinked once, neither confirming nor denying.
"It's fine," he continued, smoothing over her unspoken refusal. "Enjoy your day. What's your plan?"
"…Finish one book," she murmured.
He nodded, leaning across the table to stroke her hair as naturally as if he had done it every morning of his life. "Then do that."
---
Afternoon came.
Ze Yan stood before the mirror, dressed in a sharp dark suit. He looked every bit the commanding CEO—except for one detail. His collar was open, no tie in sight.
Qing Yun walked past the doorway, her book still in hand. She paused, studying him.
"Isn't the banquet formal?" she asked. "You look… casual."
He stilled.
Her gaze dropped to his open collar. "You need a tie."
His hand twitched by his side. It had been years since he had worn one. After she left, ties felt like chains. Every knot reminded him of mornings when she used to stand in front of him, her small fingers moving deftly to make him presentable. Without her, he had tossed them aside, unable to bear the absence.
Now her words pressed against the scar.
---
Qing Yun tilted her head. "You don't have one?"
"I do," his voice was low, almost guilty.
"Then wear it," she said simply.
He didn't move.
Her brows lifted faintly. Without another word, she reached for his hand, tugging him gently but firmly toward the walk-in closet.
The air changed the moment they entered.
Half the closet was immaculate: rows of suits, crisp shirts, leather shoes aligned by shade. The other half… empty. A silence filled the space, a missing presence carved into the air.
Qing Yun's eyes lingered, but she said nothing. Instead, she walked to the shelf where ties hung in neat order, her fingers brushing over silk and cashmere, pausing on one that matched his suit.
"Stand still," she instructed.
He obeyed.
---
She buttoned his shirt with careful fingers, pulling the collar up. The scent of her—fresh, faintly floral—brushed his senses.
"Why don't you wear ties anymore?" she asked, her tone light, but her eyes searching.
He swallowed. His throat locked. Words swelled but refused to leave. Because without you, I couldn't bear to wear them. Because every knot strangled me with memories.
Silence stretched.
She didn't press. Instead, she looped the tie around his neck, her fingers steady, precise. The intimacy of the act struck him harder than any kiss could. He remembered every morning years ago when she had done this for him, her laughter filling the air.
Now, her face was calm, almost expressionless, but the warmth of her hands made his heart clench.
She tightened the knot, smoothed it flat, then straightened his collar. "There. Proper now."
---
Her gaze drifted, and she finally voiced what had caught her eye earlier.
"Why is your closet only half full?" she asked softly.
He froze.
She turned back to him, waiting.
Inside, his answer screamed: Because it's yours. Because I've been waiting for you to fill it.
But his lips stayed sealed.
Their eyes met. She didn't push further. She only gave a faint nod, as though she had already guessed the answer.
---
Together, they stood before the mirror.
Ze Yan's reflection stared back at him: sharp, dignified, powerful. For the first time in years, a tie graced his suit. But what mattered was not the tie itself—it was her hand that had placed it there.
She stepped back, book still tucked against her arm. "You look fine now."
He turned, his gaze lingering on her. She had already walked to the window, sitting with her usual calm, flipping her book open.
The banquet would have hundreds of eyes on him tonight, but only one pair of eyes mattered. And they weren't even looking.
---
At the banquet, people would whisper about Gu Ze Yan's flawless appearance, his charisma sharpened like a blade. But in his heart, he knew the truth.
That tie was not his.
It was hers.