Outside the Great Hall, the solemn hush of the assembly gave way to the restless hum of Beijing. Beyond Tiananmen Square, the city lived on as always—horns blaring in traffic, bicycle bells chiming through the evening rush, the scent of fried dumplings drifting from hutong kitchens, shopkeepers calling out in crowded side streets.
"I swear to uphold the Constitution, safeguard the authority of the People's Republic, fulfill my duties as a deputy in accordance with the law, remain loyal to the motherland and the people, and work hard for the cause of socialist modernization and the great rejuvenation of the nation,"
A young man read aloud, his voice trembling as he swore the oath before the assembly.
His name was Su Zeming.
At just twenty-seven, he had become a member of the National People's Congress, representing his constituency with a confidence that belied his age. Inside the Great Hall, red banners draped in solemn grandeur while CCTV cameras followed every step across the marble floor, capturing the weight of history on his young shoulders.
"Placing the interests of the country and the people above all else, performing the sacred duties entrusted to me, and striving for the peaceful reunification of the motherland...I solemnly swear before the people that I will faithfully carry out my duties—"
The words were solemn, enormous, and yet strangely intimate as they left his lips. Standing between those two worlds—the solemn grandeur of the Great Hall and the narrow alleys where family dinners and street chatter never ceased—Su Zeming felt both dizzy and grateful.
The ceremony lasted for about an hour.
"Congratulations, Comrade Su. You've made us proud today."
"You're still young, but I can see your potential. Don't waste it."
"Well done! Our youngest deputy! Tonight you're buying the drinks."
Formal congratulations and lighthearted jokes flooded toward Su Zeming the moment the ceremony ended. He bowed slightly to each person, replying with practiced humility—"Thank you, I will do my best"—again and again.
Only after everything was finished did Su Zeming finally sigh in relief, slumping into the chair in his small office. He pulled out his phone, and notifications immediately piled up: messages from classmates, congratulatory texts from relatives, and a barrage of '👏👏👏 proud of u!!!' emojis from his group chat
He ignored them. People could wait. Right now, he needed brainless entertainment
"With a few taps, the iDramaLovers app opened, and bright banners immediately assaulted his eyes—Domineering President romances, revenge melodramas, teary historical epics, and fluffy CEO love stories all popping up one after another. One title froze him mid-scroll: The Rise of the Dutiful Wife: From House Chores to Business Queen.
"Oh, ranked first this week?" Su Zeming said quietly, pressing play as the opening scene flickered to life.
The story was, at its core, very standard. She had been there from the very beginning. When he was nothing but a young man with empty pockets and broken dreams, she held his hand. She worked tirelessly—sometimes skipping meals, sometimes hiding her tears—just so he could stand tall. Together, they climbed from the lowest rung of society.
Step by step. Failure after failure.
By episode three, when he finally reached the top, she believed their struggles were over. She thought their love had weathered the storm, but the storm was only beginning
At his peak, surrounded by wealth and temptation, he betrayed her. The man who once swore eternal love fell into another woman's arms. With cold eyes, he handed her divorce papers—the reward for her lifetime of devotion.
That day, something inside her awoke. If he could abandon her after everything, then she would rise higher than he ever dreamed. And this time, she would climb alone.
By episode thirteen, the climax hit. Within seconds, the woman in stilettos slapped her overbearing ex-husband and his mistress across a boardroom table.
Just then—
'Survivor Arena: Fight or Fall! Download now and claim 888 free coins!'
"You motherf—ing ads! Can't you let her finish that slap first?!" Su Zeming yelled, glaring at the screen.
Daylight robbery. And yet, like a true hostage, he still frantically tapped his wallet—buying coins for the next episode faster than he had sworn loyalty to the motherland an hour ago.
Done with that, just as Su Zeming tapped for the next episode...
"You think I'll kneel and beg you to come back?"
Suddenly, a voice rang out from behind him—trembling with fury yet sharp as steel. Su Zeming froze, his heart skipping a beat. Instinctively, he spun around, eyes wide in shock.
"No. The one who kneels will be you."
"..."
Su Zeming's legs nearly gave way as he staggered upright, eyes wide in disbelief. He rubbed his eyes, certain he was hallucinating. But no—standing right behind him was… wait… the Business Queen?!
"…What the—"
Before he could utter another word, a hand—swift as lightning—cut through the air.
SLAP!
The sound cracked like thunder, but this was no ordinary slap.
The moment the palm connected with his cheek, Su Zeming felt a violent, swirling pull. Lights blurred, the world twisted, and with a rush of wind and sparks, he was instantly sucked into the glowing screen of his phone.
A minute later…
Two men entered, each carrying a large cardboard box. After setting them down, they both let out a long sigh of relief, wiping sweat from their foreheads.
"Hey… do you smell something burning?" one of them asked, sniffing the air as he carefully scanned the dimly lit space.
They moved cautiously, eyes darting across stacks of crates and scattered equipment, until finally, one of them spotted the source. Crouching beside a discarded box, he noticed something strange.
"Wait... is this a phone?"
The screen was cracked, the edges scorched, and tiny wisps of smoke still curled from the corners. Clearly, it had been damaged.
"Sigh… what a waste. And it's the latest model too…"
"Probably stolen and then tossed here," the other muttered. "Hey, let's hurry. I heard this place is haunted. I don't want to stick around any longer than we have to."
With that, the two men abandoned the damaged phone and hurried out of the rumored haunted warehouse—a place that, only moments ago, had felt like just another ordinary office.