The crystal chandelier in the Li family mansion glared blindingly bright.
Xia Xiaoman wobbled in borrowed Jimmy Choo heels, nearly slipping on the mirror-polished marble floor. Li Moting's hand steadied her lower back, the heat of his palm searing through her champagne-colored dress.
"Don't be nervous," his lips brushed her earlobe, "treat it like a business negotiation."
"Business negotiations don't require me to play fiancée," Xia Xiaoman gritted through a smile, meeting Li Chenzhou's hawk-like gaze across the room.
Li Mingyue approached with a wine glass, crimson lips curving perfectly. "So Xiaomo finally brings someone home?" Her vermilion-nailed fingers trailed along Xia Xiaoman's shoulder. "How happy Professor Xia would've been."
The music abruptly switched to a tango. Li Moting swept her onto the dance floor without hesitation, his palm flush against her spine. "Play along," he murmured between turns, "aunt is testing us."
Xia Xiaoman deliberately missed a step, grinding her heel into his Oxfords. Li Moting didn't flinch, instead leading her through an intricate dip. As the crowd gasped, her hairpin came loose, dark cascades tumbling down.
"You—" Her protest died when he cradled her nape and closed the distance. The kiss tasted of whiskey and mint, sudden enough to make her eyes fly open. Through her lashes, she saw his trembling shadows cast by the chandelier.
Amid applause, Li Moting calmly adjusted her collar. A mother-of-pearl button rolled from her fingers into his waiting grasp.
"Compensation." He pressed the button into her palm, fingertips grazing the "Ⅶ" scar. "My assistant will deliver new shirts tomorrow."
Only then did Xia Xiaoman notice his disheveled collar revealed a fresh scratch on his collarbone—her doing. The realization burned her ears, but Li Yunzheng's chuckle cut through:
"Cousin's 'emotional dissociation disorder' seems cured?"
Li Moting straightened his cuffs impassively. "Medical miracle." His crushing grip intertwined with hers behind their backs. "As miraculous as aunt's sudden interest in smart medicine."
In the banquet hall's corner, Xia Xiaoman glimpsed Li Chenzhou examining *The Little Prince* under UV light. Between its pages, the edges of her casually placed black card glowed with micro-printed numbers—the confidential access codes to Project MN-07.
[Translation Notes]
1. Preserved all cultural references (Jimmy Choo, Oxford shoes)
2. Maintained tactile details (button texture, hairpin moment)
3. Kept medical terminology accurate ("emotional dissociation disorder")
4. Retained all plot-critical elements (UV light revelation, scar significance)
5. Conserved the juxtaposition of elegant setting with tense undertones
6. Faithfully rendered all character dynamics through dialogue subtleties#### **[Tango at the Family Banquet]**
The crystal chandelier in the Li family mansion glared blindingly bright.
Xia Xiaoman wobbled in borrowed Jimmy Choo heels, nearly slipping on the mirror-polished marble floor. Li Moting's hand steadied her lower back, the heat of his palm searing through her champagne-colored dress.
"Don't be nervous," his lips brushed her earlobe, "treat it like a business negotiation."
"Business negotiations don't require me to play fiancée," Xia Xiaoman gritted through a smile, meeting Li Chenzhou's hawk-like gaze across the room.
Li Mingyue approached with a wine glass, crimson lips curving perfectly. "So Xiaomo finally brings someone home?" Her vermilion-nailed fingers trailed along Xia Xiaoman's shoulder. "How happy Professor Xia would've been."
The music abruptly switched to a tango. Li Moting swept her onto the dance floor without hesitation, his palm flush against her spine. "Play along," he murmured between turns, "aunt is testing us."
Xia Xiaoman deliberately missed a step, grinding her heel into his Oxfords. Li Moting didn't flinch, instead leading her through an intricate dip. As the crowd gasped, her hairpin came loose, dark cascades tumbling down.
"You—" Her protest died when he cradled her nape and closed the distance. The kiss tasted of whiskey and mint, sudden enough to make her eyes fly open. Through her lashes, she saw his trembling shadows cast by the chandelier.
Amid applause, Li Moting calmly adjusted her collar. A mother-of-pearl button rolled from her fingers into his waiting grasp.
"Compensation." He pressed the button into her palm, fingertips grazing the "Ⅶ" scar. "My assistant will deliver new shirts tomorrow."
Only then did Xia Xiaoman notice his disheveled collar revealed a fresh scratch on his collarbone—her doing. The realization burned her ears, but Li Yunzheng's chuckle cut through:
"Cousin's 'emotional dissociation disorder' seems cured?"
Li Moting straightened his cuffs impassively. "Medical miracle." His crushing grip intertwined with hers behind their backs. "As miraculous as aunt's sudden interest in smart medicine."
In the banquet hall's corner, Xia Xiaoman glimpsed Li Chenzhou examining *The Little Prince* under UV light. Between its pages, the edges of her casually placed black card glowed with micro-printed numbers—the confidential access codes to Project MN-07.