The midday sun was scorching, its heat waves stirring restlessness in people's hearts.
The sensor-activated doors of the Four Seasons Hotel slid open from a distance, and in the clash of hot and cold air, Peng Yu jogged in, slightly out of breath. Dressed in formal attire, he carried a shopping bag and strode purposefully into the elevator lobby without a glance elsewhere. The elevator stopped on the twelfth floor. He walked down the narrow hallway, his leather shoes muffled by the thick carpet, not making a single sound. Carefully, he pressed the doorbell.
As Bian Che’s personal assistant, Peng Yu had long accepted the reality of being on call 24/7. Even though it was a Saturday and he was in the middle of a meal with his girlfriend, a single call from his boss had him canceling on her without hesitation.
A Columbia Business School graduate with a master's degree in finance, Peng Yu had been recruited by Hengyi Group right after graduation to serve as Bian Che’s personal assistant. Back then, he had treated the job as a stepping stone.
But the young master born with a silver spoon in his mouth wasn’t just playing around. In just four short years, YYBB expanded at lightning speed and successfully went public on NASDAQ. At a time when domestic e-commerce was hitting bottlenecks and capital was withdrawing, Bian Che took a different path, expanding into the Southeast Asian market. His visionary approach alone was enough to inspire awe. Those who had fought alongside him from the beginning were all rewarded with company shares, securing their financial futures.
Unlike spoiled heirs, Bian Che was also a self-made entrepreneur—a dual identity that made Peng Yu more than willing to "serve with utter devotion."
Still, delivering a change of clothes to a hotel was a first in all these years. Peng Yu couldn’t help but wonder: What kind of peerless beauty had managed to capture his boss’s heart?
Just as the thought crossed his mind, the lock clicked.
Bian Che stood at the door in a bathrobe, his hair still dripping, his body carrying the dampness of a recent shower. His expression, however, was stormy, an invisible low pressure radiating from him.
Peng Yu respectfully presented the shopping bag with both hands. "Boss, the car is ready."
"Mm." Without another word, Bian Che retreated into the bedroom.
Peng Yu stood awkwardly outside, unsure whether to enter or leave. Unable to resist his curiosity, he peeked through the door crack—and nearly dropped his jaw in shock.
A man?!
Luo Ziming stood slumped against the wall like a fish gasping on a chopping board, his fingers practically clawing through the wallpaper.
Realizing he might have stumbled upon an earth-shattering secret, Peng Yu quickly pulled his head back, silently calming the hurricane of thoughts raging in his mind.
Before long, Bian Che emerged from the bedroom, lazily fastening the last cufflink before leisurely sitting on the sofa to sip some water. He didn’t so much as glance at Luo Ziming, only issuing a casual order to Peng Yu: "Gather the PR team for a meeting at the office."
Peng Yu’s heart skipped a beat. Had his boss been caught sleeping with a man?
Oh no!!!
——
Under the sweltering heat of over 30°C, a tense standoff unfolded in a corner of Jingyun Villa.
Ye Shengsheng stood silently beneath a forsythia tree lining the shaded path, the dappled sunlight casting a thin sheen of sweat on her nose.
Just as her patience was about to run out, Zhu Ze, standing opposite her, finally spoke: "Shengsheng, let’s talk."
He was as refined and gentle as ever, but Ye Shengsheng wasn’t buying it this time. That cultured, handsome, tender facade? All fake. Now, it just made her sick.
Crossing her arms, she spat out her words with biting sarcasm: "There’s nothing to talk about. Let my dad and your dad handle it."
Zhu Ze wasn’t surprised by the young miss’s attitude. He exhaled deeply. "I’ve come every day for the past three days, but your servants never let me in. Don’t pay attention to the online rumors—my family is already dealing with them."
The servants wouldn’t dare act on their own. This was likely Ye Huaisheng’s doing—so her father had already stepped in.
Feeling more assured, Ye Shengsheng shot him a cold look. "Logically, I shouldn’t care. But those pitying comments keep replaying in my head like a broken record. If you’ve got the skills, find me a hypnotist to wipe my memory clean. And caring about others’ opinions is human nature—I’m not some saint who can be perfectly rational."
Zhu Ze’s breath hitched. After a long pause, he forced out an apology: "I’m sorry."
Seeing him still so spineless, Ye Shengsheng felt a suffocating anger rise in her chest.
"When we agreed to this arranged marriage, I only had one condition: We didn’t need love, but we couldn’t humiliate each other. Remember? It’s not like you’re the only eligible bachelor in Jing City. There’s no need to force this."
Zhu Ze lowered his head, as if finally making a decision. "Do whatever you want with the engagement. But… I hope you’ll spare Xueying."
Ye Shengsheng nearly laughed in disbelief. Were there still people playing the "pure love warrior" trope in 2024? "You’re in no position to bargain. Worry about yourself first."
The marriage had been arranged by their families, with countless joint investments between their companies. It wasn’t something that could be dissolved with a few words. Ye Shengsheng couldn’t easily call it off, and Zhu Ze, as the one who cheated, had even less say.
"Shengsheng, Xueying isn’t like you. She doesn’t have your background or parents to rely on. You know how talented she is in jewelry design, but that field is a rich person’s game. You both graduated from the same school—she never wanted to compete with you. I’m all she has..."
The cicadas’ chirping suddenly grew louder, grating on her nerves. Ye Shengsheng’s temper flared.
"So what? I have everything except talent, is that it?"
Putting aside everything else, talent was her last line of defense. Zhu Ze wasn’t particularly handsome or tall—had he now lost his brains too?
The sunlight was blinding. Zhu Ze shifted his stance, wisely avoiding further argument on that point. Instead, he said stiffly, "If you ever cross paths again, I hope you won’t make things hard for her. It’s all my fault—she’s innocent."
So now he was setting the stage for their next encounter, casting Gao Xueying as the helpless little rabbit and Ye Shengsheng as the villainess.
"And when she took our chats out of context to smear me with that PDF—was that your idea too?"
Zhu Ze avoided her gaze, staring blankly at nothing. "I’ve seen your messages. Those were your words. It’s not like she lied."
SLAP!
The absurdity of his words ignited her fury. Ye Shengsheng struck him across the face. "Zhu Ze, listen well. I won’t let either of you off the hook."
With that, she brushed past him and strode into her family’s villa.
The Ye residence spanned over 2,000 square meters, with seven or eight servants. Ye Shengsheng handed her bag to one of them, changed her shoes in the foyer, and was immediately greeted by a dark blur charging down from the third floor—a panting Shih Tzu circling her feet.
Model, her beloved pet, had been with her since her days in England and was brought back along with her luggage after graduation.
Oh, and speaking of things she once took care of—there was also Gao Xueying. Too bad some creatures were worth less than dogs.
Ye Shengsheng tumbled onto the sofa from the force of the lunge, casually plucking the bow from its head and tossing it to Sister Juan, who was in charge of caring for the Model. She offered a half-hearted reminder, "Change it. This doesn’t match her look."
Her skin was pale, and the fatigue in her eyes was especially pronounced from the lingering effects of last night’s drinking.
Sister Juan cradled the Model back in her arms, shooting a glance at the housemaid before saying softly, "You must be exhausted, Young Miss. Why don’t you go take a bath first? I’ll take Model to obedience school."
"Mm."
In the bathroom, steam swirled in the air.
Ye Shengsheng leaned against the edge of the bathtub, eyes closed, the pallor of her face gradually replaced by a rosy flush as the tension in her nerves slowly eased under the influence of essential oils.
The bathtub on the third floor was spacious. Her fingers absently traced the tiles as the rising heat dissipated, the mirrored mosaic tiles reflecting her image with clarity.
Bare-faced and free of makeup, it was as if she had shed not just her cosmetics but all her defenses, leaving her softer than ever before.
Strong yet fragile—that was Ye Shengsheng in a nutshell.
The glass fogged into obscurity, and her consciousness grew hazy, slipping unwittingly into a dream.
In the dream, chaos reigned. Enormous fish swam beside her, and a stinging pain flared on her stomach. When she looked down, she saw translucent jellyfish clinging to her skin. Outside, a woman’s scream pierced the air, mingling with the faint strains of music. Her eardrums felt muffled, as if lightly blocked, and only then did she realize—she was underwater.
A dizzying whirl, the sudden rush of suffocation—and just like that, she jolted awake.
The bathroom light spilled over her bare shoulders as her phone buzzed on the marble countertop. Propping herself up on an elbow, she swiped the screen. "Hello?"
Her voice was rough with sleep.
"Sweetheart, why did it take you so long to answer? Have you had lunch yet?" Ruan Qinglan was likely at the airport—the distant sound of flight announcements hummed in the background.
Ye Shengsheng’s mind was still sluggish from the bath, but a wave of bitterness surged up nonetheless. Her lips trembled, her voice thickening with unshed tears. "You and Dad are off having your romantic getaway while I’m here being bullied to death."
Of course, Ruan Qinglan knew what she’d been through. If not for pressing matters in Italy, she and Ye Huaisheng would have rushed back long ago.
"Who dares bully my baby? When I get back, I’ll have your dad settle the score for you."
Ye Shengsheng sniffled. "Zhu Ze, Gao Xueying, and a whole bunch of strangers online—they’re all mocking me..."
And, of course, the unmentionable Bian Che—his sins were the gravest of all.
She began embellishing her grievances with dramatic flair.
...
The overseas call lasted a full half-hour. Ruan Qinglan’s tone remained light, though whether it was to soothe her or because she genuinely didn’t take the online gossip seriously was unclear.
Ruan Qinglan was like an anchor, steadying the storm of emotions raging inside her.
She mentioned ransacking the limited-edition handbags from Europe’s luxury boutiques, and the two of them amiably negotiated their spoils over the phone.
Twenty minutes later, the bathwater had gone completely cold, and wet footprints trailed across the tiles. By the expansive vanity, Ye Shengsheng went through her skincare routine—a ritual too vital to skip, no matter how exhausted she was.
The love marks on her skin hadn’t faded at all; if anything, they’d deepened from red to purple. She changed into a modest silk pajama set, covering every trace.
After layering serums and moisturizers, she turned her attention to her hair—thick, wavy, and impossibly soft. Distractedly, she rummaged through the drawer for hair oil.
When she reached the bottom, her gaze landed on a box of sanitary pads, and for a second or two, her mind drifted.
The hairdryer had been held too long in one spot, the scent of singed hair filling the air before Ye Shengsheng finally snapped back to reality.
Without even unplugging it, she unlocked her phone and opened her period-tracking app.
Beneath yesterday’s date, a tiny purple star blinked back at her.
The roar of the hairdryer grated on her nerves, and half her body went numb.
Ovulation period!
