2am, Shanghai
*BZZ BZZ *
A vibration cut through the quiet of Lan Xin's Apartment.
Zhou Yang glanced down at his phone. He was at Lan Xin's place, sprawled comfortably on her couch, waiting without shame while she showered behind the closed bathroom door.
Incoming media from Takayama.
Takayama Saito—his friend from Japan, the one he'd personally invited to the wedding. Zhou Yang frowned and opened the message.
"Hey, Zhou Yang. Isn't this the woman you're about to marry? I remember her from your wedding invitation." Zhou Yang's breath stalled as he reads the message.
The first image loaded, showing a photo of Yi Han — her fingers laced with another man's hand. The man's face wasn't visible, only his broad back and familiar posture.
Zhou Yang's fingers tightened around the phone until his knuckles whitened. He slammed his fist down onto the table, the sharp crack echoing through the room.
"How dare she," he muttered, fury curdling in his chest. "Making me a cuckold?"
Another photo followed. Yi Han stepping into a car, a man close behind her, protective, intimate. Almost looking like that man was her boyfriend.
Zhou Yang stared at the screen, jaw clenched, a dangerous calm settling over him as something inside snapped.
"Liu Yi Han," Zhou Yang hissed, staring at the glowing screen. "You're about to be my wife—and you dare sleep with another man?"
His grip tightened around the phone, veins standing out along his forearm. "You'll regret this," he swore under his breath. I'll make your life a living hell.
The bathroom door slid open. Steam followed Lan Xin as she stepped out, towel wrapped loosely around her. She took one look at Zhou Yang's expression and knew something was wrong.
"What happened?" she asked, then leaned closer, eyes flicking to the photos on his phone.
A slow, ugly smile crept across her lips. "So she's not that pure after all," Lan Xin scoffed. "Leaving with a man? Please. She's definitely sleeping with him."
Zhou Yang's jaw clenched. Rage and humiliation twisted together inside him, fueling something darker.
"Lan Xin," he said coldly, turning to her, "everything I gain—power, success, status—you'll have your share." His eyes hardened. "From this moment on, Liu Yi Han means nothing to me."
His voice dropped, venomous. "She'll pay for this." He peels the towel off Lan Xin, distracting himself and spent a lustful night with her.
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1am, Japan
The gentle sway of the car lulled the silence between Feng Yan and Yi Han. Feng Yan remained still, afraid that even the slightest movement might wake her. Outside, neon signs blurred into soft streaks of colour, reflecting faintly against the glass—distant, unreal.
He had always been careful with boundaries. With people. With emotions. Yet here she was, leaning into him without hesitation, trusting him in her sleep. That trust settled heavily in his chest.
Feng Yan exhaled slowly. When had he started noticing the small things? The way she tried to stay composed even when she was hurting. The way she looked out of windows as if searching for answers she never spoke aloud, suppressing her anger and heartbreak from a cheating husband-to-be. "Just what is this woman made of?" he thought to himself.
He didn't reach out. Didn't brush her hair back or pull her closer. But he stayed—present, grounded—letting his shoulder be a quiet shelter.
Maybe feelings weren't always loud or dramatic. Maybe they arrived like this: unannounced, wrapped in stillness, asking nothing but honesty.
As the car slowed near the hotel, Feng Yan glanced down at her once more, his gaze softening.
Whatever this was, he knew one thing—it mattered. And that alone unsettled him more than he cared to admit.
Chen Xi, gripping the steering wheel, glanced into the rearview mirror and froze. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Feng Yan—who had never let any other woman near him except his ex—was letting Yi Han rest her head on his shoulder.
Startled by the mirror's reflection, Feng Yan caught Chen Xi looking and gave a subtle, sharp glance. Chen Xi quickly returned his attention to the road, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
They arrived at the Higashi Hotel shortly after. Yi Han thanked Feng Yan quietly for the ride, her cheeks flushed and eyes heavy with sleep. She waved goodbye before stepping out.
A few members of the filming crew lingered nearby, whispering among themselves. "Wow, she's so lucky… her boyfriend must be loaded to be driving this latest model Mercedes," one murmured softly, earning nods and hushed chuckles from the others.
------
The next day, Japan.
Yi Han woke with a dull ache behind her eyes, the kind that lingered no matter how much she slept. She reached for her phone out of habit—and froze. Three missed calls. Several unread messages. All from Zhou Yang.
Pushing the thoughts aside, Yi Han forced herself out of bed and into motion. Work, at least, was simple. Predictable. It asked for competence, not certainty.
By the time night fell, the studio was finally ready. Lights tested. Equipment aligned. Every detail accounted for. Yi Han stood alone for a moment, breathing in the quiet satisfaction of completion. Here, she was in control. Here, nothing demanded her heart.
She sent Chen Xi a message with the studio location and final details, her fingers moving automatically. Almost immediately, her phone buzzed again.
Incoming call: Shan Qi.
---
Shan Qi: Well, well—hello, Little Miss Busy. I was starting to think you'd erased me from your life. Dinner tonight? I'm loitering around your office.
Yi Han: Sorry, Shan. I'm actually in Japan for work—last-minute arrangements. I'll be back the day after tomorrow.
Shan Qi: Japan? Wow. Didn't you swear you had a live show to run tomorrow? Or did a certain CEO suddenly become more important?
Yi Han: Ahhh, I'm here to film Feng Yan's session. He's in Japan, so I had no choice but to work around his schedule.
Shan Qi: Mmm, accommodating his schedule, huh? Sounds suspiciously intimate. Honestly, what better setting to end up in his bed? Go get it, tiger. (laughs)
Yi Han: Oh pleaseee. I drank a little too much yesterday, and Feng Yan had to send me back to the hotel. This is already the second time—I can't even look at him now.
Shan Qi: Hold on—send you back? Don't skip details. Tell me you at least tried to drag him into your room!
Yi Han: Absolutely not! He just gave me a ride back, that's it.
Shan Qi: Wow. A gentleman and a CEO? Tragic. At this rate, I'll have grandchildren before you make a move.
Yi Han: You're impossible. I'll call you when I'm back—I'm getting swamped here.
Shan Qi: Fine, fine. But I expect a full report when you return. No censoring. And if you somehow end up drunk again, at least aim better next time.
________________
The next morning, Japan
Day of filming
The studio is in chaos, the filming team hustling through final checks to ensure a smooth connection between Shanghai and Japan. Yi Han is in full business mode, professionally dressed in a navy suit, her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. A microphone is pinned to her collar, while her hands juggle scripts and a walkie-talkie.
Several minutes later, the studio went into an abrupt silence...The crew looking into the direction of the studio entrance.
A tall, confident man strides forward, his chiseled features illuminated by the studio lights. His tailored business suit complements his powerful physique. An intimidating presence clings to him—an aura so commanding that the studio erupts into hushed chatter as he passes.
Feng Yan has arrived.
---
Staff 1: Is that the CEO of Feng Capital?
Staff 2: I think that is Mr Feng Yan!
Staff 3: He is the CEO? He's so handsome!?
Staff 2: He looks so intimidating!
Staff 1: My goodness, he is so fine and young! I bet ladies would die to be his girlfriend!
Drawn by the sudden stir in the studio, Yi Han's gaze landed on Feng Yan—immaculate in his business suit, thin-framed glasses lending him his signature air of authority. Mr. CEO mode was fully engaged. For a brief moment, she found herself admiring just how effortlessly suave he was. Then reality pulled her back, and she stepped forward to greet him.
Yi Han: Mr. Feng Yan, you're here! You're twenty minutes early. We're just finishing a few final touches and should be ready to start rolling in about fifteen minutes. May I set up the microphone for you?
Feng Yan: Yes, that's fine with me.
Chen Xi: Ms. Yi Han, are the staff fully aware of the NDA agreement? I'd like to emphasize its importance—no photos or videos of Mr. Feng are permitted.
Yi Han: Absolutely. We will uphold professionalism and confidentiality as outlined in the contract. If Mr Feng is ready, we can take our position for a sound check.
Feng Yan nodded quietly and made his way to the set, adjusting his posture and taking a moment to compose himself before the filming commenced.