For a moment, neither of them moved.
The word fiancée hung in the air between them, too heavy, too absurd, too intimate to belong in this office with its glass walls and cold morning light.
Wen Yuxi blinked once, twice, as if her brain needed a second to catch up.
"…What?"
Li Zhenyu didn't repeat himself. He rarely did. He simply watched her, expression steady, as if waiting for her to process the impossible.
She crouched to pick up the envelope, buying herself a breath. Her fingers brushed the paper, but her mind was still stuck on that one word.
She straightened slowly. "CEO Li, if this is some kind of joke—"
"I don't joke."
He said it quietly, but the certainty in his voice left no room for doubt.
Yuxi stared at him. "You need a fiancée. Why me?"
His gaze didn't waver. "Because you're the only person I can trust to handle this without creating a scandal."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
He walked past her, heading toward his desk. She followed him with her eyes, trying to read the tension in his shoulders, the unusual heaviness in his movements.
Something had happened. Something big.
He sat down, but he didn't look at her. "The chairman of the Han Group is old‑fashioned. He wants to partner only with someone who has a 'stable family image.'"
"And you don't."
"No."
"So you decided to… fabricate one?"
His jaw tightened. "Temporarily."
She let out a breath that was half disbelief, half frustration. "And you thought of me?"
"You're competent," he said simply. "You know my schedule. You can handle pressure. And you won't misunderstand the situation."
Her eyebrows lifted. "Meaning?"
"You won't fall for me."
The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut.
Yuxi let out a short, humorless laugh. "You're very confident."
"I'm realistic."
She wanted to throw something at him. Preferably the nearest expensive object.
Instead, she crossed her arms. "CEO Li, I came here to resign."
"I know."
That startled her. "You… knew?"
He finally looked up. "You've been avoiding eye contact for a week. You only do that when you're hiding something."
Her heart skipped. She hadn't realized he noticed things like that.
He continued, voice calm but firm. "If you resign now, it will complicate everything. I need you."
The words hit harder than they should have.
Not because of the meaning — but because of the way he said them.
Quiet. Controlled. Almost… honest.
She shook her head. "This is insane. You're asking me to lie to the entire business world."
"I'm asking you to help me secure a partnership that will affect thousands of employees."
"And what do I get in return?"
He didn't hesitate. "Whatever you want."
She froze.
He leaned back slightly, eyes steady on hers. "Name it."
Her pulse quickened.
Her dream studio.
Her independence.
Her chance to finally build something of her own.
She swallowed. "You'd really give me anything?"
"As long as it's within my power."
She stepped closer, stopping in front of his desk. "Then I want you to help me build my own creative studio. Not with money. With access. With your network. With your guidance."
His eyes narrowed slightly, not in disapproval — in calculation.
He was weighing her request, measuring its cost, its risk, its implications.
Then he nodded once. "Done."
Just like that.
No hesitation.
No negotiation.
No conditions.
Her breath caught.
He stood, closing the distance between them. Not touching — he never touched — but close enough that she felt the shift in the air.
"Wen Yuxi," he said quietly, "be my fiancée."
Her heart thudded once, hard.
She didn't say yes.
She didn't say no.
But she didn't walk away.
And that was enough for him to reach for the contract folder on his desk.