Xiaochen Yan worked the night shift as a cleaner at a five-star hotel.
She accidentally entered a VIP suite and stumbled upon Qiyu, drunk.
Mistaking her for an escort, he coldly ordered her to leave.
She splashed ice water in his face: "Are you sober now?"
The plot should be fast-paced, engaging, and captivating.
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Novel Title (Tentative): The Contract Marriage With the Cold CEO / The Misplaced Kiss: The CEO's Exclusive Cleaner
At midnight, the corridors of the "Grand Hyatt" five-star hotel in Binhai City were so quiet that one could almost hear the sound of footsteps being swallowed by the carpet.
Xiaochen Yan pushed a heavy cleaning cart, tiny beads of sweat forming on her temples, which she wiped away with the back of her hand. The night shift cleaner's salary was one-third higher than the day shift's—an offer she couldn't refuse, especially since she desperately needed the money. Even if it meant working through the night and dealing with all kinds of messes left by guests.
"VIP Suite 9999 just lit up the service light, but the guest isn't answering the phone. Xiaochen, you're nearby—check it out on your way. Be careful, that's a top-tier VIP suite reserved long-term by the Qi family." The team leader's slightly anxious voice came through the walkie-talkie.
"Copy that," Xiaochen replied softly, adjusting her direction.
She approached the imposing double doors, took a deep breath, and knocked gently. "Hello, housekeeping."
There was no response from inside, only the faint sound of shattering glass.
Worried that something might have happened to the guest, Xiaochen hesitated for a moment before using her master key card to unlock the door. As the door opened, a strong, pungent smell of alcohol mixed with the scent of expensive cigars assaulted her senses.
The suite was dimly lit, with only a spotlight above the bar illuminating the chaos—overturned liquor bottles, shattered crystal glasses, and a suit jacket casually discarded on the floor…
And at the center of the room, on a large leather sofa, sat a man.
Qiyu.
Even with his tie loosened, dark strands of hair falling over his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes, Xiaochen recognized him instantly. A regular in financial magazines, the true owner of this hotel, a man who wielded immense power in Binhai City. During her onboarding training, the first lesson had been to memorize his face and never, under any circumstances, offend him.
He seemed heavily drunk, eyes closed, brows furrowed as if troubled by something, exuding an aura that kept everyone at a distance.
Holding her breath, Xiaochen cautiously prepared to retreat and inform her team leader.
Just as she turned around, a cold, hoarse voice filled with overwhelming pressure suddenly spoke:
"Who gave you permission to come in?"
Xiaochen froze and turned back to see Qiyu, who had opened his eyes at some point. His deep eyes, blurred by alcohol, were nonetheless sharp as ice blades, piercing through her with scrutiny and undisguised disgust.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Qi. I saw the service light…" she hurriedly lowered her head and explained.
Before she could finish, he cut her off coldly.
"Get out," he said with extreme impatience, pulling a few bills from his wallet and tossing them onto the carpet at his feet. His tone was full of contempt and disdain. "Tell your manager I don't need this kind of service. Take the money and disappear. Now."
Xiaochen instantly understood.
He had mistaken her for one of those women who would take advantage of his drunkenness to offer themselves for money.
A wave of humiliation rushed to her head, burning her cheeks. She stared at the scattered bills on the floor as if they were slaps across her face.
She clenched her fists, her body trembling slightly with anger. But the last shred of reason reminded her not to act impulsively—this job was too important to her.
Suppressing her rage, she tried to explain again, "Mr. Qi, you've misunderstood. I'm a night shift cleaner at the hotel, not—"
"I said get out. Are you deaf?" Qiyu, clearly too drunk to tolerate any explanation, struggled to stand from the sofa but slumped back down due to his intoxication. His irritation grew, and his gaze toward her turned even colder and sharper. "Don't make me say it a third time."
Those final words彻底 ignited the fury Xiaochen had been suppressing. Poverty was no excuse for humiliation! She suddenly looked up, meeting his oppressive gaze head-on. There was no fear in her eyes now, only anger at being misunderstood and disrespected.
Her eyes quickly scanned the bar counter, where an ice bucket sat, half-filled with ice water and a few unmelted ice cubes.
A moment later, under Qiyu's stunned gaze, Xiaochen rushed to the bar, grabbed the ice bucket, and without hesitation, flung its contents directly at the man on the sofa!
Splash—!
The ice-cold water, mixed with ice cubes, drenched Qiyu from head to toe. The biting chill instantly seeped through the expensive fabric of his suit, jolting him awake. In an instant, most of his drunkenness vanished.
Water droplets streamed down his sharply defined face, his hair now wet and clinging to his forehead. He looked unprecedentedly disheveled.
The world seemed to fall silent.
Xiaochen's chest heaved as she tightly gripped the ice bucket, staring at the utterly shocked man. Word by word, she asked with crystal clarity:
"Are you sober now... Mr. Qi?"
The air froze, with only the sound of dripping water breaking the silence. Qiyu slowly, very slowly, raised his hand to wipe the water from his face. His eyes, once blurred by alcohol, were now sharp as a hawk's, swirling with storms of shock, fury, and disbelief—all firmly fixed on the audacious woman before him.
(End of Chapter 1)