Elena Shen paused mid-sip of her juice. Hearing the question, she lifted her eyes toward Mason Meng, who sat across from her. Mason's red lips curved with playful curiosity as she leaned in, eyes flicking between Elena and Annie Gu.
"Zhi‑zhi, do you and President Jiang act like this at home too?" she asked in a low, mischievous tone.
"What kind of 'this'?" Elena replied coolly.
Mason propped her cheek on her palm, choosing her words with careful precision. "You know… in every detail… like a father caring for a daughter, spoiling his wife."
Elena's eyes narrowed for a flicker. Annie silently watched the exchange, amusement dancing in her gaze. For both Mason and Annie, the relationship between Elena and Ethan Jiang was inexplicably fascinating. Though Mason's brother Yuyuan Sheng was close to Ethan, Mason knew little about the reserved, globe‑trotting heir.
In the early days after Elena and Ethan's marriage was announced, Mason had assumed Ethan had agreed out of a sense of duty, nothing more. But seeing how Ethan had once orchestrated a surprise at the "Sheng Night" just to make Elena smile—and tonight, phoning to instruct staff not to let her drink—she realized their bond was far deeper than obligation.
"So, Elena, how do you two behave privately?" Mason asked again, her eyes alight with curiosity. "I used to think that marrying someone as cold and distant as Ethan must be exhausting. But you two… you seem much more harmonious than the tabloids suggest."
Elena's cheeks warmed under the question. She cleared her throat softly, glanced away, and lifted the juice again. "It's… just like any arranged marriage," she murmured.
Mason's lips twitched in disbelief. "Really?"
Elena offered a steady nod. "Really."
—
Meanwhile, as Adrian Jiang—Ethan's half‑brother and Elena's former fiancé—entered the hall, the event reached a subtle crescendo. The room buzzed as guests flocked toward him, but his eyes remained fixated on the slender form in the lounge.
He had returned home in secret, driven by an urge to see Elena one last time. Normally their paths never crossed—Elaena was either at school or with Ethan. The banquet was perhaps the only chance he'd get.
Yet, approaching the lounge, hesitation gripped him. Words churned inside his mind, but faces streamed past and nothing felt right. He faltered—waiting. Then, Elena left the lounge.
—
As she walked toward the corridor leading to the washroom, Elena appeared composed. But as she pushed open the door, a sudden wave of heat hit her. At the sink, she pressed her wrists under icy water, attempting to quell the burning sensation rising from within—yet it refused to abate.
Minutes passed, and a fierce, inexplicable warmth flushed her cheeks to match the heat in her soul. Her eyelids felt hot. She splashed water on her face again, but the effect was fleeting.
Realizing she was near meltdown, she pulled out her cell phone with trembling fingers and texted Annie:
Elena: "I think I touched something… unclean. I'm in the restroom."
Before she could finish, the swirling warmth overwhelmed her vision; the screen blurred as if turning on its own. Panic surged. She hit send without finishing the sentence, then hit pause – intending to text Annie again: "Can you come—" but her message was cut short.
Just then, a notification blinked on screen—Ethan's call coming in.
Elena froze, her finger hovering over the phone. She glanced at the voice icon, her unfinished message string. In disaster, she realized she had sent her panic-stricken text to Ethan—President Jiang.