[At Li Hao's office]
"Mr. Li, these are your clothes for your blind date tonight." Gang Zi, held out the garment bag with a deferential bow. The suit was a bespoke creation in charcoal grey, clearly chosen for its understated power.
"Everything has been ironed and prepared to your exact measurements."
Li Hao didn't even glance at it. He took a drag from the cigarette he held between his fingers, exhaling a plume of smoke that momentarily obscured Gang Zi's worried expression.
"Throw it in the incinerator for all I care," he grunted, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "You know I have no interest in this charade."
Gang Zi sighed, a soft, almost imperceptible sound. "With all due respect, Mr. Li, your father… he insisted. He said this is a matter of utmost importance for the family's future alliances."
The mention of his father was like a cold splash of water. Li Hao closed his eyes, the image of his father's unyielding gaze flashing in his mind.
Father.
The word tasted like ash. It was always about the family, the business, the endless pursuit of power and wealth. His own feelings, his own heart, were merely collateral damage in their grand designs. He had no other choice. Compliance was the only path to a semblance of peace, even if it meant sacrificing his own desires.
He dropped the cigarette into a crystal ashtray. "Fine," he bit out, the single word dripping with resentment. "Just get it over with."
Gang Zi nodded, relief flickering in his eyes before he swiftly retrieved another meticulously tailored shirt from a separate bag. "The car will be ready at eight, Mr. Li."
__________
Night descended upon the city, painting the skyline in hues of indigo and gold. Precisely at eight, Li Hao's gleaming black limousine glided to a silent stop in front of the Grand Private Hotel.
The entire building, a beacon of refined luxury, was booked for the evening, a testament to the immense power and influence of the families involved. Not a single external customer was allowed, ensuring absolute privacy for this monumental 'meeting.'
As Li Hao stepped out onto the polished marble driveway, a hush fell over the assembled hotel staff. A large, impeccably dressed row of the hotel's most important members – the general manager, department heads, senior concierges – all bowed in a synchronized, deferential arc, their heads nearly touching their chests.
"Ni Hao, Mr. Li," they chorused, a wave of respectful greetings washing over him.
But Li Hao registered none of it. His gaze, distant and vacant, swept over the grand façade, his mind already miles away. He just wanted this evening, this entire pretense, to end. He wanted to go back to his quiet solitude, to the only person who truly mattered.
He walked past the bowing figures, his stride long and unhurried, yet filled with a palpable desire to escape. The lavish hotel interior unfolded before him – spacious, opulent, with soaring ceilings adorned with intricate chandeliers, and polished floors that reflected the soft glow of elegant lamps.
Yet, it was utterly devoid of the usual bustling energy of a luxury establishment. No customers, no chatter, just an eerie, hushed anticipation.
A high-ranking staff member, a man in a crisp uniform with an almost reverent expression, stepped forward. "Mr. Li, if you would follow me, please. Your table is prepared."
Li Hao merely gave a slight nod, his hands tucked into his pockets, his posture radiating an air of untouchable detachment. He was led through a series of magnificent private dining rooms, each more exquisitely decorated than the last, until they reached a secluded alcove overlooking a serene, illuminated garden.
There, at a table set for two, a woman was already seated.
She wore a half-length frock in a delicate shade of emerald green that shimmered under the soft lighting, its fabric clinging gracefully to her figure.
Her black hair, long and lustrous, cascaded freely over her shoulders, framing a face of exquisite beauty. Her features were perfectly sculpted, her eyes large and dark, hinting at an intelligence beneath the poised exterior. She sat with an almost unnerving stillness, her hands clasped delicately in her lap.
The moment she saw Li Hao enter the alcove, her stillness shattered. She shot up from her seat, a wide, dazzling smile blooming across her face – a smile that truly might have melted a glacier, radiating an almost blinding warmth and genuine joy.
She bowed deeply, her voice melodious and clear. "Ni Hao, Mr. Li. I'm Yuna… your blind date."
Li Hao's expression remained unchanged. He simply gave another almost imperceptible nod and moved to his seat opposite her, pulling out the chair with a rustle of expensive fabric. The silence stretched for a moment, thick with unspoken expectations and an undeniable awkwardness from his side.
"What do you want to eat?" Li Hao finally asked, his voice flat, devoid of any genuine curiosity.
Yuna chuckled, a light, airy sound that seemed to sparkle in the quiet room. Her eyes, brimming with an almost childlike excitement, scanned his face.
"Oh, coffee is perfectly fine for me, Mr. Li. I'm on a strict diet, you see. Have to look good on our wedding day, after all!"
Li Hao's internal sigh was monumental. "She's so advanced… already preparing for the wedding, huh?"
He suppressed a grimace. "This woman is… efficient. Or perhaps, simply delusional."
The thought of a wedding, their wedding, sent a shiver of distaste down his spine. He had already given his heart, irrevocably, to someone else.
As they ordered their respective dishes – Li Hao chose a simple steak, while Yuna stuck to her coffee – a staff member, discreetly positioned near the entrance of the alcove, raised a small, almost invisible camera.
A soft click, barely audible over the clinking of cutlery, captured the scene. The photo, a carefully framed shot of the two of them at the table, was instantly relayed to Li Hao's father, who had given specific instructions for this photographic evidence.
For the next hour, Li Hao endured what felt like an eternity. Yuna, seemingly oblivious to his profound disinterest, chattered ceaselessly.
She spoke of her family's business ventures, her hobbies (which included charity work and equestrianism), her dreams for a future family, and most excruciatingly, her detailed plans for their wedding. She envisioned a grand affair, a union of two powerful families, filled with joy and prosperity. She discussed color schemes, floral arrangements, potential honeymoon destinations – all with an infectious, if misplaced, enthusiasm.
Li Hao, meanwhile, remained a statue of polite indifference. He took slow, deliberate drags from a freshly lit cigarette, the smoke curling around his unmoving face like a protective shield. He offered not a single comment, not a question, not even a glimmer of a smile. Even by the standards of a blind date, his aloofness was legendary.
Yuna, however, seemed utterly unfazed. For her, she was on cloud nine. She was seated opposite the most eligible bachelor in the country, a man whose presence exuded power and gravitas, even in his silence. She didn't care how Li Hao reacted; his very presence was an affirmation. She just wanted to be his bride; the rest, she believed, would follow.
Time stretched, each minute a heavy burden. Li Hao's eyes, devoid of any spark, occasionally flickered towards the ornate clock on the wall, then, more frequently, to his phone.
He would subtly glance at the screen, not for the time, but for the picture he had secretly clicked last night.
It was a candid shot of Yu Han, his face soft and smudged with flour, his lips parted slightly as he bit into a freshly steamed bun. His simple, genuine joy in that moment was a stark contrast to the manufactured cheerfulness across the table.
Only Yu Han's picture, tucked away in his phone's gallery, kept him tethered to reality, kept him entertained, even for a fleeting second. It was a silent testament to the deep, unwavering effect she had on his heart, a constant reminder of his loyalty.
Finally, Li Hao reached his threshold. The endless blabbering, the suffocating politeness, the sheer emptiness of the encounter – it snapped something within him. He pulled out his phone, his thumb flying across the screen.
Li Hao to Gang Zi: *Call me immediately.*
The response was instantaneous. His phone buzzed, vibrating urgently in his hand. Li Hao picked it up, pressing it to his ear with a practiced ease.
"Ah, yes," he said, his voice now imbued with an artificial seriousness that had been absent all evening.
"An important call. Please excuse me, Miss Yuna." He didn't wait for a response, didn't even offer a polite farewell.
He simply pushed back his chair with a loud scrape, the sound echoing in the silent room, and stormed out of the alcove, moving with a renewed urgency towards the hotel entrance. Within minutes, he was back in his car, the engine purring as it sped away into the night.
The high-ranked staff member, who had been observing the entire scene from a discreet distance, quickly approached Yuna, his expression now a mixture of awkwardness and pity.
"Miss Yuna," he said softly, "Mr. Li has… he has left."
Yuna's heart skipped a beat, her radiant smile fading into a look of utter disbelief, then a flash of indignant fury.
"He… left?" The words were barely a whisper, then she repeated them louder,
"He left?" Her eyes, usually so bright, narrowed dangerously. She stood abruptly, the emerald green frock rustling, and stormed out of the hotel, her earlier composure completely shattered.
Meanwhile, in his sprawling estate, Li Hao's father received a notification. The photos Li Hao had wanted, of his son and Yuna at the blind date, had been sent. He opened the encrypted file, a smug smile spreading across his face.
"Secretary Zhang" he barked into his intercom.
"Send these photos to all major media outlets. I want this news, Li Hao's blind date with Miss Yuna of the Dongfang family, all over China by morning. Make it front-page news. Emphasize the families' intention to form a strategic alliance."
Secretary Zhang, nodded from his office, already typing furiously. "Yes, Chairman Li. It will be done."
The chess pieces had been moved. And Li Hao, whether he liked it or not, was now firmly in play.