The applause was still echoing when Jason stepped forward.
The Son family head beamed proudly beside his granddaughter, who wore an expression of composed confusion—polished enough to pass for poise, but not quite hiding the question in her eyes.
Jason stopped in front of her, offering his arm. For a moment, she hesitated. A heartbeat later, she slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow, and together they faced the crowd.
The sound of clapping swelled, though beneath it was a hum of bafflement.
"Jason Yun?" a man in a black tux murmured to his neighbor.
"Not just Jason Yun," came the reply. "He's got the Yun name and now a tie to the Son family. That's influence on top of influence."
"Still," another voice joined in, "this is the same Jason who nearly got blacklisted last year. How the hell did he pull this off?"
"Money? Charm? Blackmail?" The first man shrugged. "Whatever it was… it worked."
The speculation spread in low tones across tables draped in white linen and gold trim. The powerful and wealthy here didn't gossip idly—every word carried a note of calculation.
⸻
Across the room, Alice sat frozen, champagne flute in hand.
Her friends were far less composed.
"Isn't that…?" one whispered.
"The same Jason who chased you around last month," another said, disbelief dripping from every syllable.
"It's barely been two weeks," the third muttered, eyes flicking between Alice and the stage.
Alice didn't respond. She didn't trust herself to. Her smile stayed painted on, but her fingers tightened around the glass.
⸻
When the applause finally faded, Jason and Son Liying returned to their table. They hadn't been seated more than a minute before the first round of guests approached, offering handshakes, smiles, and congratulations.
"Jason Yun," one man said, raising his glass. "Didn't think you had this in you. Well done."
Director Han stepped forward, clasping Jason's shoulder firmly. "The Yun name just got a little sharper tonight. I expect to see great things from you."
The parade of well-wishers went on, each toast a careful dance of words meant to curry favor, gauge his intentions, or both.
Jason accepted them all with easy composure, the perfect picture of a man who had just made the move no one saw coming.
Across the table, Alex Yun's smile had vanished entirely. He didn't touch his drink.
Half an hour later, he stood abruptly, muttering something about business in the morning. His exit was quiet, but not invisible—enough eyes followed him to make the retreat sting.
⸻
It was past 2 a.m. when Jason and Son Liying left the ball together. The driver had been instructed to take them home, but when they reached the corner where the city lights gave way to open sky, Jason spoke.
"Not ready to call it a night?"
Her lips curved. "Not quite."
They stopped by the beach. The moonlight spilled silver over the sand, the waves whispering against the shore. A breeze rolled in, cool and sharp with salt.
She shivered, arms curling instinctively.
Jason shrugged off his jacket without a word and draped it over her shoulders. The fabric still held his warmth.
"Better?"
She gave a small nod. "A little."
They walked in silence for a while, their shoes sinking into the damp sand.
Eventually, she broke the quiet. "I saw you with Fan Yulan tonight."
Jason glanced at her. "You did."
Her tone was light, but there was an edge under it. "You looked… familiar. Comfortable, even."
Jason's mouth curved faintly. "She approached me. Tried to make an offer."
"What kind of offer?"
"The kind I have no interest in," he said.
"She's… beautiful," Liying said, the word edged with something more than admiration. "And ambitious. Most men wouldn't say no to her."
Jason didn't break stride. "Most men aren't me."
Her gaze flicked to him, searching. "I was jealous," she admitted quietly. "But… I don't mind sharing, as long as I'm first."
Jason stopped walking. "You are."
Something in his tone seemed to settle her, and they continued on until she spoke again—softer this time.
"There's something I've never told anyone."
He waited, his expression still.
"When I was nine… my father's driver was supposed to take me home. But instead, we drove somewhere quiet. An empty warehouse. I thought we were picking something up."
Her breathing quickened. "When we stopped, I saw my father—he was arguing with two men. One of them was holding a gun. I got out of the car before the driver could stop me."
Her voice trembled. "I heard the shot. He… he fell. Right in front of me. And then—" she swallowed hard, "—the man turned. He saw me. He walked right up, his shoes in the blood, and bent down so close I could smell the gunpowder. He smiled… and told me if I ever spoke a word, I'd end up just like him."
She closed her eyes. "The driver grabbed me. I was screaming but no sound came out. Not then. Not ever, after that."
Silence hung between them, thick and fragile. Jason didn't move, didn't speak — afraid even his breathing might shatter her composure.
She opened her eyes slowly, meeting his. "I never said a word to anyone… until you."
A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "You didn't just pull me out of that alley… you pulled me out of the part of me that thought no one would ever come."
His throat tightened — and before he could think of something smooth to say, she leaned in, resting her forehead lightly against his shoulder. "Don't let it go to your head."
That earned a quiet chuckle from him, the tension breaking just enough for the air to feel human again.
"I still dream about it sometimes," she whispered.
They stopped walking. Jason slid an arm around her, pulling her close. She leaned into him, her head resting against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding her.
They stayed like that for a while, until she tilted her head up. Their eyes met, and Jason began to lean down—
—but she slipped from his arms with a sudden grin. "Look," she said, pointing toward a glow in the distance. "Lights."
She kicked off her shoes and started running across the sand.
Jason followed, slower at first—until something caught his eye where they'd been standing.
His phone, half-buried in the sand, the screen lit with a single notification.
System: Successfully removed a key member from the protagonist's future harem.
Reward: +25,000 Influence Points.
Jason smirked and slid the phone into his pocket before catching up to her.
⸻
The lights belonged to a wedding venue—white arches strung with fairy lights, rows of chairs still set up from the ceremony earlier that day. Flower petals, wilted but fragrant, were scattered across the aisle.
Liying spun in a slow circle, taking it all in. "It's beautiful."
They wandered the venue together, her fingers trailing along the backs of the chairs.
"Someday," she said, glancing back at him, "this will be us."
Jason stepped closer, his presence wrapping around her like the jacket on her shoulders. "Someday," he agreed.
He caught her from behind, arms looping around her waist. His lips brushed the curve of her neck.
She shivered. "Your lips are cold."
Jason's voice was low in her ear. "I know a way to warm them up."
Her breath hitched, a playful challenge in her tone. "Oh yeah? What do you have in mind?"
He turned her in his arms and kissed her.
It wasn't gentle. It was claiming—mouths colliding, hands finding places that made her gasp. She gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer, lipstick smudging across both their mouths.
The ocean roared behind them, but all Jason could taste was her, all he could feel was the heat between them—an undeniable promise in every movement.
The night had been his victory.
But this—this was his prize.