My footsteps echoed behind Shangguan Zhi as we ascended to the ninth floor. When he turned the key and gestured me inside, the clink of the "Do Not Disturb" sign hitting the door made my pulse quicken. What game was he playing now?
I positioned myself by the window, putting maximum distance between us. The twilight sky blazed with neon-kissed clouds - beautiful, yet somehow ominous. He approached holding a velvet box. Inside lay the destiny-linked chain I'd admired yesterday at the market stall.
"You bought this when I wasn't looking?" My fingers trembled closing the lid. Cinderella's clock was striking midnight. Why couldn't he understand this fairytale had reached its end?
"Yuu suits you better." The words tasted like ash. "Let's keep our Tokyo memories beautiful. Don't force what can't be."
His face drained of color. "What did you say?"
"Tomorrow we return to reality. Your parents approved match with Yuu makes sense. I'm just..." The lump in my throat betrayed me. "...your assistant."
Shangguan's fist slammed against the wall. "You think I care about bloodlines? That night at Roppongi when you walked away - that's when I knew. While others flock like moths to flame, you..." His breath warmed my ear as he closed the distance. "...you're the only light that doesn't burn."
When his lips found mine, it tasted like goodbye. "You don't need my love," I whispered through tears. The words shattered something between us.
I fled to the hotel restroom, reconstructing my composure layer by layer - powder over tear tracks, lipstick over trembling. Home awaited, with Aunt Liu's tearful farewells and Mom's poorly concealed matchmaking schemes. Yet the real pain throbbed deeper, an open wound where my heart used to be.
**Author's Note:** Both 悠 (Yuu) and 彧 (Yuki) share the Japanese pronunciation "You".
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**Shangguan Zhi's Perspective (Part 2)**
The chess pieces moved exactly as predicted, yet still caught me unprepared. That damned bridal party arrangement - how had I missed the signs? Yuki's radiant smile as maid of honor mocked me. Brilliant in everything except matters of the heart, my oblivious jewel.
At the arranged meeting, I confronted Yuu directly: "I've chosen my path. Why play this charade?" Her silent tears disgusted me - the oldest trick in the Keikaku playbook.
Father's study reeked of betrayal. "You'll marry into the Endo family," he stated, immovable as jade.
"Like you trapped Elder Brother?" I countered. The door slammed with finality. Outside, Elder Brother Qingyan's frozen mask confirmed everything - paranoia had consumed him years ago.
The sight outside Yuki's apartment stopped me cold. Ryoji embracing her, her lack of resistance... I nearly rammed the Mercedes through their sickening tableau. Instead, I let the engine roar past, watching her startled reflection shrink in the rearview.
Johnson's urgent call proved fortuitous. This Dalian shipment crisis became my lifeline - a legitimate reason to spirit her away. Her efficiency astounded even me; tickets procured at half the usual rate, accounting loopholes smoothed before breakfast.
That cursed flight revealed her vulnerability. As she trembled through turbulence, I ached to shelter her against me. Instead, I memorized the flutter of her lashes, the nervous tap of her pen - hieroglyphs of a heart I desperately needed to decipher.
Meeting her parents unraveled everything. Her father's protective glares, her mother's polite detachment - they saw through my carefully constructed armor. When Yuki started maintaining professional distance, panic set in.
Our stolen day by the shore became both salvation and torture. The way she haggled with street vendors, her triumphant grin saving fifty yuan... No society princess would dirty their hands thus. When the sugar sculptor's child rejected me, I suddenly craved impossible things - chubby fingers grasping mine, Yuki's laughter echoing through nurseries.
The rejection at hotel room still haunts me. "You don't need my love" - each syllable a scalpel carving out my soul. Yet even through the wreckage, I know this truth: She lies. To me. To herself.
Our story can't end here.