Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2 — Entering the Cold Man’s World

The Bentley door closed behind Jiang Meilin with a soft, heavy thud that made her heart jump. The inside of the car felt too clean, too silent, too expensive for someone like her. She sat stiffly, clutching her damp bag, aware of every breath she took.

Lu Shen slid in beside her. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t look at anything. He simply picked up a tablet, tapped the screen once, and the car began to move.

The driver didn’t say a word. No one did.

Only the rain whispered against the windows.

Meilin sat with her hands folded tight on her lap, her fingers trembling. Her wet hair dripped onto the leather seat. She tried to brush it away, but it kept falling forward.

She felt messy. Small. Out of place.

Lu Shen didn’t look messy at all. His suit was perfect. His jawline sharp. His posture is calm. It was like the storm outside couldn’t touch him.

She closed her eyes for a moment and whispered inside her mind:

What have I done…?

But then she saw her mother’s face in her memory, pale and fading, and she forced herself to breathe.

This was for her mother.

Only her mother.

Nothing else.

Still, the silence in the car pressed against her chest until she couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Um… Mr. Lu?” she whispered.

He didn’t look at her. “Speak.”

She swallowed. “Is this… really okay? I mean… marrying someone you don’t know?”

He turned one page on his tablet. “I don’t need to know you. I only need you to follow the contract.”

Her heart dropped a little at his tone — cold, flat, like she was paperwork and not a person.

She lowered her gaze. “I understand.”

“You will move into my penthouse tonight,” he said without hesitation.

Her head shot up. “T-Tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Oh…” Her fingers twisted around her bag strap.

She wasn’t ready.

Her life was in bags at the small apartment she rented.

She didn’t have clothes for this man’s world.

Or shoes.

Or anything.

He didn’t care.

“Is that a problem?” he asked, finally lifting his eyes from the tablet.

Those eyes hit her like a direct punch — sharp, cold, empty, as if emotions were something he threw away years ago.

“N-No,” she whispered. “It’s not a problem.”

She swallowed her fear like a bitter pill.

—

The car cut through Shanghai’s glowing night, heading toward the Bund. The buildings rose like giants, their lights mixing with the last drops of rain. Meilin stared at the city she knew yet didn’t recognize anymore. It felt like she had stepped into a different universe — one she didn’t belong in.

“You will sign a second document once we arrive,” Lu Shen said, his voice steady.

“A second… document?”

“Yes. The marriage registration will be handled tomorrow morning. The document tonight is for internal use.”

She didn’t dare ask what “internal use” meant. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

Instead, she folded her hands tighter. “Okay.”

He gave no reply.

—

The Bentley turned through a secured private gate, guarded by men in black suits. They bowed as the car passed, their faces serious, respectful.

Meilin stared.

Who was this man she had agreed to marry?

The car stopped inside an underground garage so clean it looked like a museum. Luxury cars lined the sides — black, silver, sleek, shining like quiet predators.

The door opened for her automatically.

She stepped out, her feet soft on the polished floor.

Lu Shen’s voice came from behind her. “Follow me.”

He didn’t wait.

She hurried after him, her steps small, her heart loud.

They entered a private elevator. The doors closed. Silence filled the space again. He pressed the top button.

Penthouse.

As the elevator rose, her ears popped. She could feel his presence beside her like cold air brushing against her skin.

She kept her eyes on the floor.

A small part of her wondered what he thought of her — this soaked, shaking girl who signed his contract.

But his expression didn’t show a single thought.

The elevator stopped with a gentle ding.

The doors opened.

Meilin’s breath caught in her throat.

The penthouse felt unreal.

Glass walls.

Warm lights.

Marble floors.

Tall bookshelves.

A skyline view of Shanghai that looked like a painting.

And not a single thing looked touched. Everything was perfect, still, and cold.

“This is where you’ll stay,” he said as he walked inside.

She followed, careful not to step on anything expensive.

“Your room is on the left,” he continued. “Mine is at the end of the hall. Do not enter my room unless I allow it.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

“There are rules. You will read them.”

He handed her another black folder — thicker than the first.

Rules.

Pages and pages of rules.

Her hands shook as she opened it.

No entering his study.

No talking during his meetings.

No touching him.

No asking personal questions.

No disturbing his rest.

No interfering with his work.

No acting as his actual wife in public unless he signals it.

She blinked.

This wasn’t a marriage.

This was a cage with expensive walls.

She lowered the papers. “I… understand.”

“Good.” His eyes flicked over her wet clothes. “A maid will bring you something to wear. Do not walk around looking like that. You will ruin the floor.”

Her cheeks heated. “Sorry…”

He gave no reaction, no comfort, no sign of kindness. He simply walked toward his study and stopped at the door.

“Your mother’s surgery will be arranged first thing in the morning,” he said without turning around.

Her heart stilled.

“T-Thank you,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

He paused.

For a second, she thought he might say something warmer.

But he didn’t.

“All that matters is that you follow the contract,” he said, then entered the study and closed the door behind him.

The soft click echoed like a door shutting on her old life.

Meilin stood alone in the silent penthouse, holding a folder of rules thicker than her courage.

Her hands trembled.

Her chest tightened.

Her eyes stung.

But she wiped her tears quickly.

For her mother.

For her promise.

For survival.

She walked to the room he said was hers — a soft, simple space with a bed, a closet, a private bathroom, and nothing else.

She sat on the edge of the bed.

For the first time since signing the contract, she whispered the truth she had been afraid to say:

“I’m scared…”

But no one answered.

Only the quiet hum of the penthouse lights kept her company.

In another room, behind a locked door, Lu Shen stood by his window, watching the city with unreadable eyes.

He touched the marriage contract on his desk — her fresh signature still drying.

For a moment, only a moment, something flickered across his face.

Something sharp.

Something dark.

Something like a memory.

Then it was gone.

He closed the file and said to himself:

“Let’s see how long you last, Jiang Meilin.”

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