The rain slowed to a drizzle by the time Gu Anqi reached the Gu estate, but everything about the weather felt reluctant to let go. The sky hung low and heavy, the kind that looked like it would start crying again if someone breathed too loudly.
Anqi tucked a strand of damp brown hair behind her ear and walked toward the tall iron gates. Droplets clung to the ends of her hair, weighing down the soft waves that usually bounced when she moved. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, making her round, expressive eyes look even warmer in contrast.
The guard stepped forward. His shoulders stiffened subtly, barely noticeable unless you'd grown up with this kind of reaction.
"You're here for the banquet, Miss Anqi?"
She nodded with a polite smile. "Yes. They asked me to come early."
He hesitated a beat too long before pressing the button to let her in. "Please go inside."
The gates parted with a heavy clank, and she walked through, inhaling slowly. Each step across the polished stone driveway brought back the familiar mixture of nostalgia and dread, like stepping into a memory you never wanted but couldn't forget.
The mansion loomed ahead...a sprawling structure of white stone and glass trimmed in gold. Every window glowed warmly, every lantern flickered prettily. It should have felt welcoming. It didn't.
Anqi wrapped her arms around herself as she climbed the steps.
Inside, the foyer buzzed with movement. Servants scurried across the marble floors carrying trays, flower arrangements, polished silver. The air smelled like lilies, citrus-scented cleaner, and something sweet baking in the kitchen.
Auntie Zhou spotted her first.
"Oh my goodness, child!" The older woman hurried over, wiping her hands on her apron. "Look at you—your hair is wet, and your clothes—"
"I took a shower in the rain," Anqi joked lightly. "Very luxurious spa experience."
Auntie Zhou shook her head. "Still making jokes even when you're freezing."
"Coping mechanism," Anqi whispered, her smile soft but tired.
The maid glanced around before lowering her voice. "Tonight… it might be difficult. Madam Gu is stressed."
"When isn't she?" Anqi said gently.
"You know how she gets when important guests arrive," Auntie Zhou added. "Be careful."
"I always am."
The older woman patted her arm with genuine affection. "Go upstairs. Change into something warm."
Anqi bowed her head gratefully and hurried to the staircase, her shoes squeaking faintly. Even after all these years, she still walked the halls like she was afraid of disturbing the silence.
Two younger maids passed by carrying candles. Their voices drifted behind Anqi like stray feathers.
"That's her?"
"Mm-hmm."
"She really came."
"I heard Madam Gu didn't want her here."
"Well, she's still family. On paper."
Anqi kept walking, her pace steady. If she stopped to listen, she might crumble. And she was too old, too practiced, too determined to fall apart now.
Her room sat at the end of the east hallway, far from the carved mahogany doors of the main bedrooms. Smaller. Simpler. Tucked away like an afterthought. But it was clean, familiar, and hers in a way nothing else in this mansion ever was.
She towel-dried her hair, letting the strands fall naturally around her face. Her brown hair framed her cheeks delicately, giving her a softness she didn't always feel inside. Her eyes—wide, warm, slightly anxious blinked back at her from the mirror.
Her cream dress waited on the chair. When she pulled it on, it draped over her slender frame in a way that made her look gentle, almost ethereal. She brushed her hair until it shone, letting the ends curl lightly inward, and applied a thin line of lip tint.
Nothing dramatic. Nothing bold.
Her family didn't like boldness from her.
"Look normal… but not threatening," she muttered at the mirror. "Look like furniture."
The mirror stayed silent. Rude but accurate.
She placed her hands on the vanity and breathed in through her nose, out through her mouth.
"Just smile. Don't let anyone see cracks."
She took one last look at her reflection and headed downstairs.
On the other side of the city, Shen Zhi stood in the quiet sanctum of his penthouse, adjusting the sleeves of his coat. The soft lamplight fell over him, catching the pale silver of his hair, the color looked like moonlight frozen midair. His strong jawline and straight nose added to the severe, striking impression he always left without trying.
His eyes, cold and dark, reflected nothing of the warm lights around him. They were guarded, steady, the kind that had learned long ago not to let anything in unless it had been thoroughly vetted.
He examined his appearance one last time not out of vanity, but necessity. His clothing had to sit exactly right. Any wrinkle, any imperfection, could send discomfort crawling under his skin.
He slipped on his gloves last. The faint smell of leather grounded him.
Xu Chen cleared his throat gently. "Sir, are you certain attending the banquet is wise?"
"No."
"Then—"
"But it is necessary."
Xu Chen hesitated before speaking again. "President Shen, if you wish, we can limit how close people get to you."
"Yes."
"Discreetly?"
"Of course."
He wasn't afraid of people. He simply found closeness… overwhelming. Unclean. Unpredictable. But duty was duty, and his mother had insisted.
The elevator ride down, the car door opening, the flash of cameras when he arrived. Shen Zhi didn't react to any of it.
His expression remained cold, carved from winter stone.
Inside the Gu mansion, the moment Shen Zhi entered, the atmosphere shifted like someone had lowered the temperature.
He walked in with silent authority, his silver hair catching the golden chandelier lights like frost on glass. His posture was effortless yet imposing shoulders straight, steps measured, chin raised just enough to make him untouchable.
Conversations faltered. Glasses paused midair.
"Is that him—?"
"He's unreal…"
"Even colder than rumors said—"
"What a face. Like a prince carved out of ice."
Shen Zhi ignored the whispers. His eyes scanned the hall with detached precision, absorbing details, calculating exits, measuring the distance between himself and every person within arm's reach.
Gu Mother glided toward him, wearing a smile polished to perfection.
Gu Yuwei followed, her silver dress shimmering, her hair perfectly curled. She slowed her steps as she neared him, tilting her head so her earrings caught the light.
"President Shen," she said breathlessly. "Welcome."
Shen Zhi gave her a brief nod out of courtesy, nothing more.
But before she could continue her carefully rehearsed greeting, his gaze slid past her—
and stopped.
On someone standing alone near the far corner.
On a girl in a soft cream dress.
On warm brown hair falling in gentle waves.
On eyes that looked surprised just to exist in a room like this.
Gu Anqi.
He didn't know her name yet.
But he felt something tug, something small, quiet, and strange.
A softness in a room full of edges.
Her posture was unsure, slightly curled inward as if she was trying not to disturb anyone's space. She almost blended into the backdrop except she didn't. Not to him.
Her hair framed her face in a way that made her eyes look even larger. Her cheeks held a natural blush, whether from nerves or warmth he couldn't tell. She wasn't the most glamorous woman in the hall. Not the shiniest dress, not the boldest presence.
But she was the first person he'd looked at without feeling the instinctive urge to look away.
Meanwhile, Anqi was having the worst internal crisis of her life.
She had tried standing with good posture. Too stiff.
She tried relaxing her shoulders. Too casual.
She tried blending in. Impossible—her face was too expressive for blending.
So she stood by the pillar, holding a small clutch like a life raft, and prayed nobody of importance would pay attention to her.
Her brown hair swayed when she shifted her weight, brushing softly against her cheeks. She combed it behind her ear out of habit-nervous tick, automatic, almost comforting.
A waiter approached with champagne. She reached for a glass trying so hard to not embarrass herself—
And then a push from behind threw her off balance.
Her heel twisted.
She gasped.
Her hair flew in a soft wave around her shoulders.
She spun, too quickly—And collided with a chest as solid as marble.
A man's chest.
Warm beneath layers of fabric.
Still. Completely still.
Her fingers curled instinctively into the material of his coat as she braced herself.
She felt his arm steady her, firm but cautious.
She lifted her head,
And her breath stopped.
Silver hair.
Cold eyes.
Sharp jaw.
A face that could silence a room.
Shen Zhi.
Her warm, startled eyes locked into his deep, unreadable ones.
And for one impossible second—
The world fell utterly quiet.
He didn't recoil.
He didn't flinch.
He didn't stiffen the way rumors said he always did.
He simply looked at her, as if trying to understand why her touch didn't feel wrong.
Her hands trembled against his chest. His gloved fingers curled slightly around her arm.
Both froze.
Both stared.
Both felt something shift.
The sun had crashed into winter, and winter… didn't turn away.