The next morning, Su Wanwan woke to the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Unlike the previous day's nervousness, a faint flutter of anticipation settled in her chest as she recalled the moment Lu Shiyan had caught her the night before—his strong arms around her waist, the warmth of his body against hers, the intensity in his dark eyes that had made her breath catch. She pushed the memory aside, scolding herself for reading too much into a reflex. It was just part of the act, she reminded herself. A contract. Nothing more.
She dressed in a tailored navy blazer and a crisp white silk blouse from the walk-in closet, paired with high-waisted black trousers that elongated her legs. When she reached the dining room, Lu Shiyan was already seated, sipping coffee and scrolling through his phone. He looked up as she entered, his gaze lingering on her for a beat longer than usual before returning to his screen. "We have a client dinner tonight at the Grand Hotel," he said, his voice calm. "7 p.m. Sharp. Lin Zhou will drop off a dress for you at noon."
Su Wanwan nodded, taking a seat across from him. "What kind of client?" she asked, picking up a piece of toast.
"Chen Minghao," he replied, his jaw tightening slightly. "CEO of Starlight Media. We're negotiating a joint venture for the new entertainment complex. He's… persistent. And he doesn't take 'no' well." He paused, looking at her. "He'll probably ask personal questions. Stick to the backstory. And whatever you do, don't let him get too close."
There was a edge to his voice that Su Wanwan hadn't heard before—something like protectiveness, though she quickly dismissed it. It was just about maintaining the facade, she told herself. Lu Shiyan didn't want his "wife" making a scene or compromising the deal.
The morning at Lu Group passed in a flurry of meetings and pretend work. Su Wanwan sat in her small office adjacent to Lu Shiyan's, sorting through his mail (mostly promotional flyers and business proposals she didn't understand) and stealing glances at him through the glass partition. He was in a meeting with his senior team, his expression stern as he gestured at a projection screen filled with graphs and charts. Even in the middle of a heated discussion, he looked composed—commanding, powerful, and utterly unattainable.
At noon, Lin Zhou arrived with a garment bag. Inside was a floor-length emerald green gown made of silk, its neckline cut in a soft V-shape, with delicate lace detailing along the sleeves. Su Wanwan's eyes widened as she held it up. It was the most beautiful dress she'd ever seen—far beyond anything she could have afforded on her own. "Mr. Lu picked it out personally," Lin Zhou said, noticing her awe. "He said the color would complement your complexion."
Su Wanwan's heart skipped a beat. He'd thought about that? She thanked Lin Zhou and hung the dress carefully in the corner of her office, her mind wandering to the client dinner. What would Chen Minghao be like? And why had Lu Shiyan sounded so tense when mentioning him?
By 6:30 p.m., Su Wanwan was ready. She'd styled her hair in loose waves that cascaded down her back, applied a touch of smoky eye shadow and a deep red lipstick, and slipped into the emerald gown. The silk hugged her curves gently, and the lace sleeves covered her bandaged palm perfectly. When she stepped out of the elevator into the lobby of the mansion, Lu Shiyan was waiting for her, leaning against the hood of the Maybach.
He froze when he saw her, his eyes darkening as they traveled from her head to toe. For a long moment, he said nothing, and Su Wanwan felt a flush rise to her cheeks under his intense gaze. "You look…" He trailed off, clearing his throat. "Appropriate."
It was the closest thing to a compliment he'd ever given her, and Su Wanwan found herself smiling. "Thank you. You look nice too." He was dressed in a black tuxedo, the fabric shimmering slightly under the lights, and his hair was styled slightly looser than usual, softening his sharp features.
The drive to the Grand Hotel was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Su Wanwan stared out the window at the city lights, while Lu Shiyan scrolled through his phone, though she noticed he didn't type as furiously as he usually did. Every now and then, their eyes met in the rearview mirror, and Su Wanwan would quickly look away, her heart racing.
The Grand Hotel's ballroom was lavish, with crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and tables covered in white linen cloths. Waiters in black tuxedos circulated with trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres, and soft classical music played in the background. As soon as they entered, all eyes turned to them. Su Wanwan felt the weight of the gazes, but she squeezed Lu Shiyan's arm (as he'd instructed her to) and forced a confident smile.
Chen Minghao was waiting near the entrance, a broad grin on his face. He was a middle-aged man with a paunch, dressed in a flashy gold suit that clashed with the elegant surroundings. His eyes lit up when he saw Su Wanwan, and he stepped forward, extending his hand. "Lu Shiyan! It's good to see you. And this must be the famous Mrs. Lu—you're even more stunning than the rumors say."
Su Wanwan shook his hand politely, but she felt a twinge of discomfort at his overly familiar tone. "Thank you, Mr. Chen. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Chen Minghao's gaze lingered on her chest, and Su Wanwan instinctively stepped closer to Lu Shiyan. Lu Shiyan noticed, his hand tightening slightly around her waist as he steered her toward a table. "Shall we sit?" he said, his voice cold enough to make Chen Minghao's smile falter.
Dinner was awkward. Chen Minghao talked endlessly about his business successes, interrupting Su Wanwan whenever she tried to speak and making inappropriate comments about her appearance. Lu Shiyan remained quiet for the most part, but Su Wanwan could feel his tension—his jaw was clenched, and his fingers tapped rhythmically on the table.
At one point, Chen Minghao leaned across the table, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You know, Wanwan," he said, ignoring Lu Shiyan entirely. "A beautiful woman like you shouldn't be stuck with a workaholic like Shiyan. He's never home, right? You deserve someone who can give you attention—someone who knows how to treat a lady."
Su Wanwan's cheeks burned with embarrassment. Before she could respond, Lu Shiyan's hand covered hers on the table, his touch warm and firm. "My wife is very happy with our life, Chen," he said, his voice sharp as a blade. "I suggest you stick to business. Unless you want to end this negotiation right now."
Chen Minghao's face turned red, but he backed down, muttering an apology. Su Wanwan glanced at Lu Shiyan, surprised by his defense. His hand was still on hers, and she could feel the steady beat of his thumb against her skin. For a moment, she forgot they were pretending—for a moment, it felt like he was really protecting her.
After dinner, Chen Minghao cornered Su Wanwan near the bar while Lu Shiyan was speaking to a group of investors. "Listen, beauty," he said, slurring his words slightly (he'd drunk three glasses of whiskey). "That joint venture—if you convince Lu Shiyan to agree to my terms, I'll give you a little bonus. A shopping spree, a vacation… whatever you want." He reached out to touch her arm, but Su Wanwan stepped back, her heart pounding.
"Mr. Chen, please," she said, her voice trembling. "I'm not going to interfere in business matters. And I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your distance."
"Come on," he said, advancing toward her. "Don't be stupid. Lu Shiyan doesn't care about you—this marriage is just a show. I can give you something real."
Before he could get any closer, a strong hand grabbed his wrist. Lu Shiyan stood beside them, his face livid. "Get your hands off my wife," he growled.
Chen Minghao struggled to pull his wrist free, but Lu Shiyan's grip was ironclad. "Relax, Shiyan," he said, laughing nervously. "I was just joking."
"Joking?" Lu Shiyan's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "You think it's funny to harass my wife? To disrespect her? Let me make one thing clear—if you ever speak to her like that again, or even look at her the wrong way, I'll destroy your company. Slowly. Painfully."
The room had gone quiet, and all eyes were on them. Chen Minghao's face turned ashen, and he nodded frantically. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I swear."
Lu Shiyan released him, and Chen Minghao stumbled backward, hurrying away. Su Wanwan stood there, her legs shaking, as Lu Shiyan turned to her. His anger faded, replaced by a flicker of concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.
She nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yes. Thank you. I—"
Before she could finish, he took her hand and led her toward the exit. "We're leaving," he said. "This dinner is over."
The drive back to the mansion was silent. Su Wanwan stared at her hands, replaying the night's events in her mind. Chen Minghao's words had stung—this marriage is just a show—but Lu Shiyan's defense had meant more to her than she wanted to admit. He'd been furious, not just because Chen Minghao had compromised the deal, but because he'd disrespected her.
When they arrived at the mansion, Lu Shiyan walked her to the door of her bedroom. "Get some rest," he said. "You've had a long night."
Su Wanwan nodded, but she didn't open the door. Instead, she looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "Why did you do that?" she asked. "Defend me like that. It's just a contract, right? I'm just part of the optics."
Lu Shiyan's jaw tightened. "No one gets to disrespect my wife—even if it's a contract," he said, repeating his words from the board meeting. But there was something different in his voice this time—something that sounded like he meant it.
He started to walk away, but Su Wanwan reached out and grabbed his arm. "Lu Shiyan," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "What are we doing here? This isn't real. But sometimes… sometimes it feels like it is."
He turned to face her, his dark eyes locking with hers. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, he reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch gentle. "It's not real," he said, his voice low. "Don't forget that."
But his words didn't match his actions. His hand lingered on her cheek, and his gaze was warm—warmer than she'd ever seen it. Su Wanwan's heart raced, and she leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut. For a second, she thought he was going to kiss her—really kiss her, not just for show.
But then he pulled away, stepping back. "Goodnight, Su Wanwan," he said, his voice cold again. He turned and walked down the hallway, leaving her standing there, her cheek still tingling from his touch.
She entered her bedroom and closed the door, leaning against it. What was happening to her? She'd come here for money, for her mother's medical bills. She'd promised herself she wouldn't get emotionally involved. But every day, every interaction with Lu Shiyan, made it harder to keep that promise.
That night, she couldn't sleep. She thought of his anger when Chen Minghao had harassed her, his concern when he'd asked if she was okay, the gentle touch of his hand on her cheek. She thought of his grandmother's kind words—he's a good man, deep down—and wondered if there was truth to them.
At 2 a.m., she gave up on sleep and went downstairs to the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of water and stood by the window, staring at the snow-capped mountains in the distance. The mansion was quiet, except for the soft hum of the heating system.
"Can't sleep?"
Su Wanwan jumped, turning to see Lu Shiyan standing in the doorway. He was dressed in a black silk robe, his hair messy, and his eyes looked tired. He wasn't wearing his usual icy mask—he looked human, vulnerable even.
"I—" she stammered. "No. I just needed some water."
He walked into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. "Chen Minghao called me an hour ago," he said, taking a sip. "He apologized. Again. And he agreed to our terms for the joint venture."
Su Wanwan nodded. "That's good."
"He also said he didn't mean what he said about you," Lu Shiyan continued. "That he was drunk and stupid."
"It's okay," she said. "I didn't take it personally."
But that was a lie. She had taken it personally—because part of her had feared he was right. That this marriage was just a show, and Lu Shiyan didn't care about her at all.
Lu Shiyan walked over to her, standing beside her at the window. The moonlight illuminated his face, and she could see the faint lines of exhaustion around his eyes. "He was wrong," he said quietly. "About you. About us."
Su Wanwan turned to him, her heart pounding. "What do you mean?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he reached out and took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. His hand was warm, and his grip was firm—not possessive, but reassuring. For a long moment, they stood there, watching the mountains, their hands intertwined.
Su Wanwan didn't know what this meant. She didn't know if Lu Shiyan was just caught up in the moment, or if there was something real between them. But as she stood there, feeling the warmth of his hand and the steady beat of his heart beside her, she didn't care. For the first time since she'd signed the contract, she allowed herself to hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, their perfect marriage facade wasn't as empty as she'd thought.
When they finally pulled apart, Lu Shiyan's gaze was soft. "Go back to bed," he said. "You need to rest."
She nodded, walking toward the stairs. But before she reached them, she turned back. "Lu Shiyan?"
He looked at her. "Yes?"
"Thank you," she said. "For tonight. For defending me."
He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips—the first real smile she'd ever seen from him. "Goodnight, Wanwan."
The use of her first name sent a shiver down her spine. She smiled back, then turned and climbed the stairs. As she lay in bed, she thought of his smile, his hand in hers, and the way he'd looked at her in the kitchen. Three months, she told herself. But now, more than ever, she was afraid that when the contract ended, she wouldn't want to walk away.
The next morning, everything seemed different. When Su Wanwan arrived at the dining room, Lu Shiyan greeted her with a nod and a "Good morning"—a small gesture, but one that made her heart race. During breakfast, he asked her about her design studies, and she found herself talking openly about her passion for architecture, something she hadn't done with anyone in a long time.
At work, he called her into his office and handed her a stack of files. "I want you to look over these," he said. "They're the plans for the entertainment complex. Tell me what you think—from a design perspective."
Su Wanwan stared at him, surprised. "You want my opinion?"
He nodded. "You're a design graduate, aren't you? I trust your eye."
As she flipped through the files, her mind raced. This wasn't part of the contract. This wasn't about optics or pretending. This was Lu Shiyan, asking for her input—treating her like a real person, not just a prop.
When she looked up, she found him watching her, a faint smile on his face. "Well?" he said.
Su Wanwan took a deep breath, pointing to a section of the blueprints. "The lobby design is beautiful, but the flow is off. If you move the reception desk here, it will improve foot traffic and create a more welcoming entrance."
Lu Shiyan leaned over, his shoulder brushing hers as he looked at the blueprints. "Interesting," he said. "I hadn't thought of that."
As they discussed the plans, Su Wanwan forgot about the contract, forgot about the pretense. She forgot that Lu Shiyan was a cold, powerful CEO, and she forgot that she was just his contract wife. For a moment, they were just two people, collaborating on something they both cared about.
But their moment of connection was shattered when Lin Zhou knocked on the door, his face serious. "Mr. Lu, Ms. Su," he said. "There's someone here to see you. It's Mr. Lu's ex-fiancée, Jiang Yiyi."
Su Wanwan's heart dropped. Lu Shiyan's ex-fiancée. The woman he'd almost married before their contract. She looked at Lu Shiyan, whose smile had faded, his expression hardening into the icy mask she'd first met.
"Send her in," he said, his voice cold.
As the door opened, Su Wanwan braced herself. She didn't know what Jiang Yiyi wanted, but she knew one thing—their perfect marriage facade was about to face its biggest test yet.