The unscrupulous couple left the airport arm in arm and boarded a car straight to the hotel.
After being rejected by Yi Han the night before—without even earning a kiss—Zhou Yang's impatience simmered. The woman beside him became an outlet for his bruised pride, and his desire turned urgent, almost ravenous.
The car glided forward, the city humming softly outside. Inside, the space felt too small, too quiet.
Lan Xin shifted closer, her knee brushing his. She didn't pull away.
"You didn't have to plan all this for me."
Zhou Yang turned slightly, noticing the faint tension in her shoulders. "I wanted to."
After a beat, he added, softer, "You sounded disappointed when I left you waiting last time."
Her eyes flickered.
"You remember that?"
"I notice when you're unhappy," he said simply.
Lan Xin smiled, but there was something searching beneath it."Funny. She never has to say anything, does she? You always go to her first."
Zhou Yang's brows knit almost imperceptibly.
"That's not what this is about."
"Isn't it?" she murmured. "No matter how close I am, she's always somewhere between us."
He reached out then, covering her hand with his. His touch was steady, reassuring.
"Look at me," he said.
She did.
"I'm here," he continued. "Right now. With you."
Her breath caught, just slightly.
"And when she calls?"
"She won't," he replied, thumb brushing lightly against her knuckles. "And even if she does… I won't leave you hanging."
That seemed to undo her. She leaned in, close enough that his breath warmed her cheek.
"You're dangerous when you talk like that."
A faint smile curved his lips.
"I only say things I mean."
The car slowed as the hotel lights came into view. Lan Xin's voice dropped to a whisper.
"If we walk in together… there's no going back."
Zhou Yang squeezed her hand gently, a quiet promise.
"I know."
Then, softer still, "And I won't let you feel like a second choice." She smiled—this time without doubt..
The pair arrived at the hotel entrance, its glass façade glowing softly against the night. Zhou Yang had spared no expense—this was a five-star luxury property, every detail carefully chosen. Not for convenience, not for appearances, but for Lan Xin.
Back in Shanghai, they had always been cautious, measured—distance carefully maintained under watchful eyes. But here, in Japan, anonymity wrapped around them like permission.
They no longer bothered to hide.
As they walked toward the concierge, Zhou Yang slipped an arm around her waist, drawing her closer. His hand rested possessively, fingers tightening just enough to make his intent clear, brushing against her with deliberate familiarity. Lan Xin didn't protest; instead, she leaned into him, her steps matching his.
Her lips curved into a quiet smile.
"So this is where you brought me," she murmured.
He lowered his head slightly, his voice warm against her ear.
"Only the best, for you."
They moved as one toward the counter—unhurried, unapologetic—every gesture openly affectionate, as if the world around them no longer mattered.
They were so absorbed in each other that they failed to notice the pair of eyes watching them from the moment they stepped out of the car.
Arrived right behind them was a black Mercedes, its windows fully tinted, blending seamlessly into the night. The engine idled, steady and patient.
In the back seat sat a man, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. From behind the darkened glass, he watched Zhou Yang lace his arm around Lan Xin's waist, saw how naturally she leaned into him, how closely they walked as they crossed the hotel entrance together.
It was Feng Yan.
Zhou Yang couldn't get any more lucky. Booking a room where Feng Yan was staying at.
It's god's will.
Feng Yan's expression remained unreadable as the revolving doors swallowed the couple whole. He didn't move, didn't look away.
The hotel lights reflected faintly across the tinted window, concealing his presence as completely as the truth he had just witnessed.
And inside, unaware, Zhou Yang and Lan Xin disappeared into the warmth of the lobby—never knowing they had already been seen.
Chen-xi sat rigid at the steering wheel, his grip tightening as recognition dawned.
"Sir…" he muttered, unable to keep the disbelief from his voice. He lifted a hand, pointing discreetly toward the hotel entrance.
"That man…"
Chen-xi swallowed.
"That's Zhou Yang," he said quietly. "Miss Yi Han's fiancé."
"I didn't expect…" He trailed off, clearly appalled. "To see him with another woman. And so openly."
Feng Yan did not say a word.
He opened the car door and stepped out, calm and steady. The hotel lights fell on him as he adjusted his coat, his expression unchanged.
He walked toward the entrance without looking in Zhou Yang's direction, as if he hadn't noticed him at all.
To anyone watching, it would seem that the couple inside meant nothing to him.
But Chen-xi knew that wasn't true.
Feng Yan passed through the revolving doors and entered the lobby. His eyes swept the area once, cool and controlled, before he looked away.
As if Zhou Yang didn't exist.
As if nothing unusual had happened.
Yet something had already changed.
-----------
Back in Shanghai, Yi Han returned to her apartment safely. She was exhausted—but more than that, she felt empty.
Her thoughts drifted again to the wedding scheduled for next week. The date hovered in her mind, heavy and suffocating, no matter how hard she tried to push it away.
She sank onto the bed and curled up, finally surrounded by silence. For a moment, there was peace. No calls. No expectations. No voices.
She closed her eyes, hoping to rest. But tears slipped quietly from the corners of her eyes.
She was tired. So tired.
The images Shan Qi had sent her surfaced again, clear and cruel—playing over and over in her mind.
Zhou Yang. And the other woman at the hotel.
She pressed her face into the pillow, her breath shallow, as the quiet of the room closed in around her.
Perhaps this pain was only something she needed to endure, before a new path revealed itself.
------
A few days later.
The wedding drew closer. Zhou Yang had returned from his trip, as if nothing had happened.
That evening, Shan Qi appeared in the lobby of Yi Han's office, waiting for her—right on time for their dinner date. It was Yi Han's last day of work before her marriage off-days kicks in.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Shan Qi asked, worry clear in her eyes.
Yi Han had spent days thinking it through. She had made up her mind.
She would still show up at the wedding.
And she would end it there—on the day itself, in front of the guests and both families.She was done playing nice. Not after everything she had been put through.
Yi Han nodded. "I'm sure. I want everyone to know it's his loss. He ruined this marriage all by himself."
Shan Qi studied her for a moment, then gave a slow nod.
"As long as it's what you want, I'll stand by you—no matter how you choose to end it."
A sharp smile curved her lips.
"Let's give him a wedding he'll never forget."
For the first time in days, Yi Han felt something steady settle in her chest.
Resolve.
----
Just two days before the wedding.
Shan Qi and Yi Han were at a nail salon in a shopping mall, doing simple, girly things—getting their mani-pedi done, hair appointments lined up—almost as if they were calmly preparing for a showdown.
It didn't take long before Yi Han's phone rang.
Incoming call: Zhou Yang
She answered.
"Hello, wife," Zhou Yang said cheerfully. "What are you up to? I missed you. Just two more days till we meet."
It was tradition—Chinese couples didn't meet in the three days leading up to the wedding.
"I just got my nails done with Shan Qi," Yi Han replied. "We're about to do some shopping."
"That's my girl," he said warmly. "Go pamper yourself."
He paused, then added, "Oh—and I just got a call from the hotel. There have been some changes."
Yi Han's hand stilled slightly.
"What kind of changes?" she asked.
"The hotel manager called," Zhou Yang explained. "There was a major leak in the ballroom, and they need to do repairs. So the wedding banquet has been moved to the Continental Hotel." Yi Han listened quietly.
Continental Hotel.
The name stirred something in her memory. It was the same hotel where she and Shan Qi had stayed that night—the one clouded by alcohol and blurred choices.
"Mhm… I understand," she said after a pause. "But what about the invitations—"
"Don't worry, love," Zhou Yang cut in smoothly. "I've already taken care of everything." His tone softened.
"Just focus on pampering yourself and getting ready to be my beautiful wife. I can't wait to see you in that white dress." Yi Han's fingers tightened around her phone.
His words were gentle.
But they made her skin crawl.
She ended the call with a quiet response, her smile in the salon mirror slowly fading.
The venue had changed.
But her decision hadn't.