🚨 Part I: Launching the Lie
The announcement was handled by Mr. Kim with the surgical precision of a PR expert who knew he was operating on a ticking time bomb.
The official statement was released late morning: "Jiang Chenxu, in a moment of deep personal commitment and clarity, is proud to announce his engagement to the brilliant and highly private designer, Lin Meiyu. This decision reflects Mr. Chenxu's newfound focus on authentic, stable relationships."
The immediate reaction was a global media meltdown. Social media was awash with speculation, photo analysis, and attempts to dig up Meiyu's entire life history (which mostly consisted of 'designed excellent beige blouses').
Meiyu, now wearing the gigantic, terrifying diamond ring, felt less like a fiancée and more like a human shield strapped to a superstar rocket.
Chenxu, however, was thriving on the strategic stability of the lie. His unfiltered self found the massive legal and PR advantage immensely satisfying.
"It is quite genius," Chenxu stated, watching a news report analyzing Meiyu's 'mysterious' background. "A perfect narrative pivot. They cannot call me unstable if I am committed to a partner known for her emotional and sartorial rigor."
"The Master is enjoying the sheer tactical brilliance!" The Crane whispered in Meiyu's pocket, radiating satisfied pride. "Though, Meiyu, you must practice the Gaze of Undying Devotion. You look like you're calculating his tax burden."
The Lens, meanwhile, was focused on the technical requirements of the spectacle. "The public debut must be flawless. They need visuals that confirm the 'authentic' narrative. That means a high-quality engagement photo shoot immediately."
📸 Part II: The Engagement Shoot Absurdity
The photographer, a famous artist known for capturing 'intense emotional truth,' arrived at the penthouse. The goal was to capture 'intimate, quiet love.'
The reality was a farce mediated by magical advice.
The photographer positioned them on the sofa, wanting a 'candid, loving moment.'
"Chenxu, darling, look at her like she is the only truth in your chaotic world!" the photographer directed.
Chenxu looked at Meiyu, his eyes large and unfiltered. "I'm looking at her like she is the only truth in my chaotic world," he stated, his voice flat. "It is a practical relief."
"No, Chenxu! Feel it! Look at her hand! The ring!" the photographer urged.
Chenxu reached for Meiyu's hand, but the Crane immediately began transmitting urgent signals.
"Warning! He's going to complain that the ring is too tight and the lighting is unflattering! Engage the Sincere Admiration Pivot!"
Meiyu, following the subtle cue, quickly intertwined their fingers and squeezed.
"It's just that his hands are so expressive," Meiyu cooed to the photographer, giving Chenxu the practiced, loving gaze the Crane demanded. "They tell such a beautiful story about his artistic journey."
Chenxu blinked, surprised by the sudden, intense focus on his hands. He stopped criticizing the ring. His unfiltered mind found a new, safe topic.
"My hands," Chenxu murmured to the camera, looking thoughtful. "They are surprisingly good at kneading dough. It is a deeply therapeutic process that requires complex, sustained hand-eye coordination."
The photographer gasped. "Genius! He finds therapy in the mundane! The quiet stability of domestic life! Hold that! That is the shot!"
The Lens immediately chimed in: "Success. We have achieved the narrative goal of 'deeply committed, unexpectedly domestic, and slightly strange.'"
👪 Part III: Meeting the Mother
The ultimate test arrived two days later: Chenxu's mother, a formidable woman who had carefully engineered every step of his flawless career, demanded a 'private tea' to assess her son's sudden, suspicious engagement.
This was not just social pressure; this was a melodramatic boss fight.
Meiyu dressed in the most expensive, yet least distracting, suit she owned.
"She is a master manipulator, Meiyu. She will deploy aggressive compliments followed by piercing financial questions," the Crane warned, its light dimmed by fear. "Her Shadow is pure, controlling ambition. I am afraid."
The Lens offered a practical defense. "Acknowledge her control, but claim higher ground. Her concern is financial. Reassure her of the commercial viability of the relationship."
The meeting was held in a pristine, intimidating private room. Chenxu's mother, Madame Jiang, was a vision of immaculate, cold power.
"Meiyu," Madame Jiang said, her smile brittle. "I am so pleased Chenxu has found... stability. You seem sensible. Tell me, dear, what is your net worth, and what are your plans to ensure this relationship does not jeopardize my son's endorsement contracts?"
Meiyu took a slow, steady breath. She looked Madame Jiang directly in the eye.
"Madame Jiang," Meiyu began, channeling the icy precision of The Lens. "My net worth is currently irrelevant. My value is in my ability to manage the current, volatile market narrative surrounding your son. I have successfully countered claims of instability with a counter-narrative of unwavering commitment, saving him from a ruinous lawsuit and converting his unfiltered honesty into 'profound artistic truth.' My presence, Madame, is not a liability. It is the most profitable asset on his balance sheet."
Madame Jiang blinked, her brittle smile cracking. She had expected deference or emotion; she got a quarterly report.
Chenxu, who had been sitting rigidly, suddenly relaxed, his eyes shining with unfiltered admiration. "She speaks the truth, Mother! She is a financial fortress!"
The Crane pulsed with proud excitement. "High five, Meiyu! The mother is subdued!"
💖 Part IV: The Quiet Truth
Later that evening, the high drama of the day finally faded. Meiyu was alone in her room, removing the painful diamond ring.
Chenxu knocked softly and entered, his face relaxed and open. He walked over to her, his gaze falling to the massive ring on the nightstand.
"You defended me today," he said quietly. "You didn't defend my image. You defended the value of the truth I'm speaking. Thank you."
Meiyu nodded, suddenly exhausted. "It was necessary."
"No," Chenxu insisted, stepping closer. "It was more than necessary. It was brave."
He looked at her, his expression carrying the full, vulnerable weight of his unfiltered heart. "The ring is a lie, Meiyu. The engagement is a shield. But when you look at me with that gaze of devotion, even if it's just for the cameras, I feel a stability I haven't felt since I was seven years old, saving my one chipped bottle cap."
He reached out and gently brushed a stray hair from her face. His touch was soft, hesitant, and entirely real.
"I need you to look at me like that, Meiyu," he whispered, the truth stripped bare. "I need the protection of your love, even if it's pretend."
Meiyu felt the last of her emotional walls crumble. She didn't correct him; she didn't rationalize the lie. She simply reached up and placed her hand on his cheek.
"I see you, Chenxu," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I see all the chipped things. And I love them."
She leaned in, and this time, there was no phone call, no urgent need for a signal, and no interruption from the Shadows. The kiss was slow, deep, and utterly real—the terrifying, genuine consequence of a fake engagement built on a stolen shadow and a thousand shared secrets.