The black sports car lurked in the thick darkness of the night.
Ye Shengsheng trembled as if she had just heard some absurd fairytale. Her elbow accidentally pressed against something, and the car window slid down with a swift whoosh.
The evening breeze carried the moonlight into the car. Bian Che’s sharp brows arched, his expression grim as he scrutinized her with unfathomable depth in his eyes. His voice was lower and colder than ever—
"This isn’t just about the 70 million anymore. The marital status of a publicly listed company’s CEO must be disclosed. These photos aren’t just tabloid gossip—they’re a scandal. If they leak, the impact on the stock market would be unimaginable. Some investors might even jump off buildings."
Ye Shengsheng hadn’t expected things to escalate this badly. After a brief moment of panic, her breathing grew heavier. "Then let’s just call the police."
"You think I haven’t? Luo Ziming is overseas right now."
In other words, every possible solution had already been exhausted.
Bian Che rubbed the back of his neck, as if someone had him by the throat. There was a resigned surrender in his gesture.
"Our only option now is to get ahead of this—announce our marriage. From last night to the hotel, we were caught on countless surveillance cameras. Based on the timeline, his photos can only be doctored."
Logically, it made sense. But something about it felt off to Ye Shengsheng.
Suspicion flickered in her eyes as a memory from years ago resurfaced.
Back in the summer after high school, Bian Che had gone to Iran for the IPHO—the International Physics Olympiad, known as the most cutthroat competition of its kind, one that even university professors would hesitate to attempt.
Kids from wealthy families like theirs usually attended elite international schools, benefiting from top-tier education and exclusive pathways to prestigious universities. Most of them dabbled in high society early, with few actually bothering to study seriously.
But he was the exception.
Five hours of theory, five hours of experiments—by the end, he looked like he’d been flayed alive.
It was the hottest day of the year. For some reason, Bian Che got into a heated argument with the competition committee during the awards ceremony. When neither side would back down, he threw his gold medal on the spot.
That same day, the Bian family arranged a private jet, and he flew back alone.
The incident spread like wildfire in their circles.
Everyone knew Bian Che had spent over a year preparing for that competition. Whispers and rumors swirled—some said the competition was rigged, others claimed he’d clashed with contestants from other countries. But the closest to the truth was this: a female teammate had been sexually harassed, and the committee tried to silence her with the gold medal.
Fu Zhicheng, thirsting for gossip more than propriety, pieced together the entire drama and later reenacted it for Ye Shengsheng with such vivid detail, it was like she’d witnessed it herself.
She acted out every twist and turn, even smashing Ye Shengsheng’s brand-new compact powder at the climax.
Ye Shengsheng, already on bad terms with him, only half-listened to the story. Glancing at the shattered powder, she crossed her arms and asked, "And then?"
Fu Zhicheng flopped onto the sofa, spreading her hands. "The committee got investigated, and the whole thing blew up…"
The story ended there.
The next time Ye Shengsheng saw Bian Che, his entire aura had changed—his once slightly tousled hair was shaved into a buzz cut, and he carried a sharper edge.
No one dared to ask for details. Only Ye Shengsheng thought he was just putting on a show, pretending he’d just gotten out of prison.
Now, under the desolate night breeze, the memory returned in full. And because of it, she couldn’t believe Bian Che would ever take a beating lying down.
Her dark hair tumbled loosely over her chest, the ends lifted by the wind. After a brief daze, she felt a prickle of unease. "Then why not marry Zhicheng? Everyone was together last night anyway."
Bian Che’s expression darkened at how easily she threw her friend under the bus. "I never took you for this kind of person. Last night, you went out of your way to get me drunk, took advantage of me, and now you’re trying to pin the blame on someone else while I’m being blackmailed…"
Was he some kind of idiom master? How could he spout such shameless lies under the bright moonlight?
Ye Shengsheng’s ears burned. She gritted her teeth. "I’m already engaged. Find someone else to marry."
"You and Zhu Ze are practically at each other’s throats. You really think that marriage is still happening?"
As if reading her mind, Bian Che tapped his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel, his lips curling into a mocking smile. "After we’re married, you can keep treating me like the enemy."
So what if they’d slept together? Since when was he some delicate flower she had to take responsibility for? The whole thing was absurd. She opted for delay tactics. "I’ve got over a dozen boyfriends outside. It’ll take a while to break up with all of them."
"No problem. I’ll help you with that." Bian Che lowered his gaze, amusement dancing in his eyes as if he’d seen right through her.
"Not necessary." Ye Shengsheng shot back, her tone stiff. Her mind was a mess, but that didn’t stop her from glaring at him.
Bian Che leaned closer, his peach-blossom eyes glinting. "It’s just a marriage of convenience, not a relationship. Isn’t this a win-win?"
"Unless," he drawled, "you’re feeling guilty?"
"You’re the one who’s guilty—of being impotent!"
"Am I?" His voice dropped, teasing. "You should know better than anyone."
Heat flared in Ye Shengsheng’s cheeks. "I don’t repeat men."
Silence fell abruptly. Their gazes locked in the narrow space between them.
Bian Che watched her bristle, then sighed like the victim. "If you refuse to take responsibility, I’ll have to discuss this with your father tomorrow. Should the Ye family really be the ones to pay the 70 million? And if the stocks crash, leading to some tragic consequences… I hope your conscience can handle it."
"You bastard." Ye Shengsheng shoved his shoulder, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Bian Che seemed pleased with the insult. Without another word, he started the car and turned back onto the main road.
As they rolled over a speed bump, the car slowed. The flickering streetlights cast shifting shadows over his striking features, his handsome face edged with roguishness.
He looked far more composed now. Glancing at her, his dark eyes gleamed with quiet intensity. "I’ll give you three days to think it over."
Ye Shengsheng stayed silent, stubbornly staring out the window, her mood making it clear she had nothing left to say.
Still, he kept his word.
When they reached the Jingyun Villa, he handed her the medicine bag without fuss. She didn’t even bother with a goodbye, slamming the car door behind her with deliberate force.
Every movement radiated lingering fury—he noticed, of course.
Bian Che watched from the car, his gaze sharp enough to pierce through her. His eyes lingered meaningfully on the paper bag in her hand—
"Last night, all three times—I wore protection."
He saw her steps falter before she bolted faster. He watched the villa gates swing open, her figure disappearing inside.
...
Another sleepless night.
Bian Che’s words tormented her relentlessly. By morning, her head was still a foggy mess.
As she applied her makeup in front of the mirror, her arms felt weak and lifeless. The dark circles under her long lashes were glaringly obvious—it took three layers of concealer to barely cover them. She switched to a deep red velvet lipstick and picked out a black off-shoulder evening gown from her walk-in closet.
Effortlessly elegant, her complexion and aura instantly lifted.
By the time Ye Shengsheng finished getting ready and descended the stairs, four or five maids were busy organizing four oversized suitcases. The living room was cluttered with paper bags and gift boxes in various colors. She glanced toward the dining area.
Breakfast was laid out on the table, but no one was there.
She walked over slowly, resting her hands on the back of a chair. "Are my parents back?"
"Sir and Madam returned at four in the morning and are resting in their room now."
Only then did her scattered senses finally settle. Ye Huaisheng and Ruan Qinglan were back—and with them, all her confidence returned.
The chef brought over a bowl of sea custard, smiling warmly at her. "What would you like to eat, Miss?"
The sleek cut of Ye Shengsheng’s dress demanded a flawless figure—so much so that she couldn’t even drink water.
Pursing her lips, she picked up a small piece of bread from the bone china plate and took a slow bite. "I’ll pass. Just remember to prepare some cordyceps chicken soup for my parents later."
With that, she slipped into her high heels and headed out.
The Rolls-Royce glided toward the Moonlight Hotel in the suburbs.
The invitation to the Oriental Art Gallery’s jewelry exhibition had arrived last month, and Ye Shengsheng had no intention of skipping it. The more eyes were on her, waiting for her to stumble, the more she needed to project an image of effortless grace.
The gallery was brilliantly lit, hosting a themed exhibition titled "A Glimpse Through Time." The smooth jazz and the mingling of high-end perfumes enhanced the artistic ambiance of the jewelry on display.
Such events were perfect for elevating one’s social media presence, and the room was filled with young heiresses snapping photos. The moment Ye Shengsheng entered, they exchanged knowing glances before approaching her with saccharine smiles.
"Shengsheng, your necklace is stunning! Is it a custom piece from Cartier?"
Surrounded by them, Ye Shengsheng curved her lips into a faint smile. "I’m not sure. I just took it from my mother’s jewelry box."
The girls showered her with a few more sycophantic compliments, but her responses remained cool and detached. Their smiles froze as they realized they’d hit a wall.
Ye Shengsheng had no patience for their pretenses. "Excuse me," she said dismissively before walking off to admire the exhibits, treating them as if they were invisible.
Hmph.
Backstabbing, spreading rumors, forming petty cliques to ostracize her—did these fake friends really think they had the upper hand now?
At the center of the display case lay a butterfly nebula brooch, its delicate wings adorned with hundreds of colored gemstones. Under the spotlight, it shimmered dreamily, breathtaking in its brilliance.
It was the kind of beauty that left one awestruck.
Sun Mingnan was an admirer—though not of the brooch, but of the woman standing before it.
Dressed in a minimalist black-and-white gown, her snow-white neck adorned with a pink diamond choker, the hem of her dress grazing the floor, her stilettos impossibly slender and tall—she was mesmerizing.
As if drawn by an invisible force, Sun Mingnan stepped closer, his gaze falling on the same piece. "This brooch would look exquisite on you."
Ye Shengsheng glanced at him, then just as quickly returned her attention to the brooch, exuding an air of aloof indifference.
"Do you like it? I’ll buy it for you," Sun Mingnan pressed, utterly enchanted, willing to splurge without a second thought.
Still refusing to spare him another look, Ye Shengsheng smirked faintly. "All exhibits here are non-sale items."
Encouraged by her response, Sun Mingnan grew bolder. "That’s only because the right price hasn’t been offered yet..."
Last month, the butterfly nebula brooch had been auctioned at Sotheby’s for 300 million HKD, making waves in the industry. Clearly, this man hadn’t read the news—or he’d know exactly who the buyer was.
Before she could reply, their conversation was interrupted by the sharp click of approaching heels. Ye Shengsheng’s gaze shifted past Sun Mingnan to the woman behind him.
"Hailey."
The woman, her short hair sleek and professional, strode over swiftly and clasped Ye Shengsheng’s arm warmly. "Why didn’t you look for me when you arrived?"
Hailey was the curator of this exhibition. The two had met through Ye Shengsheng’s university mentor, and their friendship went without saying.
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Ye Shengsheng smiled casually. "I saw you entertaining other guests, so I came in first."
Hailey kept hold of her hand. "I can’t thank you enough. If you hadn’t generously lent me the butterfly nebula to save the day, where would I have found a piece worth hundreds of millions on such short notice?"
A sharp inhale came from beside them—but no one noticed when Sun Mingnan slipped away.
"There’s so much inspiration here today," Ye Shengsheng mused. She had studied contemporary jewelry at UAL, and the works on display, crafted by master jewelers across eras, were invaluable for learning.
Under the soft yellow lighting, Hailey tapped the display case lightly. "Mortise-and-tenon inlay—no adhesives or metal settings. The techniques passed down by our ancestors are truly impeccable."
Ye Shengsheng’s lips curled unconsciously. "My mentor said she must come to China to see this brooch in person. If the university doesn’t grant her leave, she’ll organize a faculty strike."
As if suddenly remembering, Hailey grinned. "Oh, and your mentor issued an ultimatum—you must participate in the IAI competition."
Ye Shengsheng rubbed her temples with a wry laugh. "Why is she still pushing me even after graduation?" She loved designing purely for the joy of it, with no interest in competitions—hence her endless delays in responding to her mentor’s suggestions.
After chatting for a few more minutes, Hailey excused herself to attend to other guests. Ye Shengsheng, having seen enough, pulled out her phone to call her driver.
The dial tone had barely sounded when a woman’s voice cut in.
"Shengsheng."
Standing at a measured distance was Gao Xueying. Frail as a reed, she looked utterly broken, her face gaunt with exhaustion.
Some meetings were inevitable—no matter how long they took to arrive.
