The next morning, Lin Yaoyue woke up to the soft chime of her borrowed phone vibrating on the nightstand.
A reminder from Jiang Zeyan's assistant, neatly scheduled and color-coded:
Breakfast with Mr. Jiang. 8:30 AM. Dining room. Do not be late.
She rolled onto her back, groaning into the silk pillow.
Even luxury didn't make early mornings more tolerable.
Twenty minutes later, dressed in a loose blouse and tailored slacks from her newly stocked closet, she padded into the dining room, still yawning.
Jiang Zeyan was already there, reading something on a tablet with one hand and stirring his coffee with the other. His hair was styled, suit perfectly crisp, not a trace of sleep in sight.
"Do you sleep in a coffin?" she muttered, sliding into the seat across from him.
"I take thirty-minute naps. Efficient and restorative."
She narrowed her eyes. "You're not human."
He didn't look up. "Noted."
Before she could dig into the fruit bowl, a new voice floated through the room — light, honeyed, with just enough sweetness to sound practiced.
"Zeyan. You didn't tell me you had company."
Yaoyue turned in time to see the woman enter. Tall, elegant, and poised like she had just stepped out of a luxury ad. Her dress was designer, hair in a glossy twist, heels clicking softly on the marble floor. She walked straight toward Zeyan and leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Yaoyue blinked.
Zeyan didn't flinch. "Tang Min. What are you doing here?"
Tang Min gave a laugh that sounded delicate, but her eyes were sharp.
"Your housekeeper let me in. I'm here to confirm the event lineup for the charity gala next week. You're still attending, aren't you?"
"Yes."
Tang Min's gaze drifted to Yaoyue, scanning her like a barcode. She offered a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "And you must be the new... assistant?"
Before Yaoyue could speak, Zeyan said, "She's my girlfriend."
That hit the table like a dropped wine glass.
Tang Min's smile didn't waver. "Really? How sudden."
"We met a while ago. Things developed," he replied.
Yaoyue could feel Tang Min's attention shift like a spotlight. The woman's eyes were bright, polished, and just a bit too interested.
"How lovely," Tang Min said. "You know, Zeyan never brings anyone home. This is new for him. Must be serious."
Yaoyue smiled sweetly. "He's full of surprises."
Tang Min sat down without being invited, crossing her legs. "What do you do, Lin Yaoyue?"
"I used to work freelance," she said. "A bit of marketing, a bit of writing."
Tang Min tilted her head. "So, not from our industry?"
"No," Yaoyue replied, "but I learn fast."
A beat passed between them, quiet but heavy. It wasn't loud. It wasn't aggressive. But Yaoyue knew a silent challenge when she saw one.
Zeyan didn't speak. He simply sipped his coffee and checked his watch.
"I'll have the team follow up with you," he told Tang Min. "We're done here."
She stood, smoothing her dress. "Of course. I just wanted to check in. You're still welcome to attend the gala with me, by the way. It's tradition."
"No. I'll be going with Yaoyue."
Tang Min blinked. Just once. Then she smiled again.
"Well. I'll see you both there, then."
---
After she left, the silence in the room stretched. Yaoyue poked at her toast.
"So," she said, without looking up, "ex-girlfriend?"
Zeyan replied without emotion. "Family acquaintance. We were engaged once. Years ago."
"Oh. That's all?"
"It was never about feelings. It was arranged, briefly. Convenient for both families. It ended."
She nodded slowly. "She doesn't seem like someone who takes losing well."
"She's not used to it."
Yaoyue finally looked up at him. "And what happens when she finds out this thing between us is fake?"
He didn't hesitate. "She won't."
Something about the way he said it, not defensive, not worried, just absolutely certain, made her chest tighten for a second.
"You're really good at lying," she said softly.
"I don't lie. I just don't explain myself."
Yaoyue stared at him across the table. Everything about him was perfect. Every answer smooth. Every emotion buried so deep it barely surfaced. She couldn't tell if he was acting or if he just didn't feel anything at all.
---
Later that evening, while reviewing the charity gala schedule, Yaoyue found herself staring at a picture from last year's event. Tang Min was there, of course, standing beside Zeyan. Dressed in gold, smiling confidently, her arm looped through his.
They looked... compatible. Like two puzzle pieces from the same luxury box.
Yaoyue closed the file and rubbed her temples.
This was just a contract. She was being paid. None of it was real.
But when she had seen Tang Min kiss Zeyan's cheek, something inside her had flickered. Not jealousy exactly, but something close to it. A strange tightness in her chest that had no business being there.
She didn't like it.
She didn't like him, not really.
He was cold. Detached. Probably allergic to emotions.
But when he had handed her tea the other night without asking, when he said he'd restock the fridge with "simpler" things, when he looked at her for just a second longer than necessary...
Her thoughts spiraled, then snapped back to reality.
No. She was not going down that road.
She closed the laptop and pushed it aside, pressing her palms to her face.
"Get it together, Lin Yaoyue," she muttered. "You're here to fake-date a man, not fall for one."
Outside, the city lights twinkled.
Inside, two people moved through the same space, carrying their own silence, blind to the threads slowly forming between them.