✦ POV: Lin Xiaoyu ✦
— Lu Group Headquarters, 47th Floor — Continued —
Xiaoyu stared at him.
This was insane. She had woken up this morning in her tiny apartment with a cold cup of instant noodles and a pile of final notice envelopes, told herself she would hear him out purely out of desperate curiosity, and somehow ended up sitting across from Shanghai's most powerful CEO being asked to be his wife.
[ This is not real. This is not a thing that actually happens to people like me. ]
And yet the documents on the desk between them were very real. The numbers on the compensation page were very real.
Her mother's hospital bills were very real.
Xiaoyu: "slowly: Let me understand this. You want me to pretend to be your wife."
Lu Zhen: "correcting her: Not pretend. Contractually become. For the period of one year."
Xiaoyu: "raising an eyebrow: Is there a difference?"
Lu Zhen: "very slightly: Legally, yes."
She almost laughed. It came out as a short, involuntary exhale — not humor exactly, but the sound a person makes when something is so absurd it briefly short-circuits their distress.
He looked at her when she made that sound. A brief, attentive flicker, like he was cataloguing the reaction.
[ Don't find him interesting. He's a contract. That's all this is. ]
Xiaoyu: "straightening: I have questions."
Lu Zhen: "gesturing: Ask."
She reached for the document. He leaned forward slightly at the same moment to point at a clause near the top — and for one brief, unexpected second, his hand was beside hers on the paper, close enough that she could see the precise line of his cuffs, the stillness of his fingers.
She was very aware of the proximity. She moved her hand back.
[ He didn't even notice. Of course he didn't. ]
Lu Zhen: "pointing to the first clause: Article One. Shared residence, Lu family estate, eastern Pudong. Separate bedrooms. Article Two—"
Xiaoyu: "interrupting: Separate bedrooms?"
Lu Zhen: "coolly: Is that a concern?"
Xiaoyu: "quickly: No. Absolutely not. Please continue."
[ Why did I say it like that. Why. ]
The corner of his mouth moved. Just barely. If she hadn't been watching, she would have missed it.
[ She's easier to unsettle than she wants me to know. ]
He continued, clinical and thorough, walking her through each article. Public appearances as a couple — dinners, family events, corporate functions. No press interviews without prior approval. No social media posts about their arrangement. No personal relationships with others during the contract period.
This last one made her pause.
Xiaoyu: "carefully: That clause goes both ways?"
Lu Zhen: "meeting her eyes: Both ways."
She nodded slowly and returned to the document. She read the compensation section again. And again.
Her mother had been in the hospital for four months. The bills had been accumulating like water behind a cracking dam. Xiaoyu had been working three freelance contracts simultaneously, sleeping five hours a night, and the dam was cracking faster than she could patch it.
[ One year. I can do one year of anything. I survived twenty-seven years of everything else. ]
She looked up at Lu Zhen. He was watching her with that unreadable patience, as if he had already decided she would say yes and was simply waiting for her to finish arriving at the conclusion.
She found that irritating.
Xiaoyu: "You're very sure of yourself."
Lu Zhen: "calmly: I'm thorough. There's a difference."
She closed the folder.
Xiaoyu: "I need forty-eight hours."
Lu Zhen: "standing to indicate the meeting was over: You have twenty-four."
She stood. Gathered her bag. Walked toward the door. At the threshold, she paused without turning around.
Xiaoyu: "quietly: No love. No emotions. Just a deal."
A silence. Then—
Lu Zhen: "from behind her, voice level: Correct."
She walked out. Neither of them noticed that he had not looked away from the door for a very long time after she left.
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