The Private Room
The door to Yu Chen's private room opened, and Xiaoxi immediately froze. The place wasn't just a bedroom—it was practically another world, the kind that only existed in high-end interior design magazines.
The Calacatta Gold marble floor gleamed softly, while massive glass walls showcased the glittering skyline of the city. A king-size bed with pristine white Frette linen stood at the center, framed by a dark gray leather headboard in minimalist style.
On the other side, a glass walk-in closet illuminated by LED lighting displayed rows of Tom Ford suits, a collection of Patek Philippe watches, and Berluti shoes arranged as if in a private boutique. A Poliform lounge chair faced the window, and the almost invisible Bang & Olufsen audio system played soft instrumental music in the background.
Oh my God… this isn't a bedroom, it's a branded showroom! Xiaoxi thought, nearly losing her mind at the sight of the luxurious display. Even his shoes shine brighter than my future. If I so much as touch one of these, I'd have to pay it back with seven generations of my salary!
But the real shock awaited behind the bathroom door. As it opened, Xiaoxi nearly lost her breath.
A freestanding Victoria + Albert bathtub stood magnificently near the window, overlooking the sparkling city lights. A rainfall shower was encased in clear glass panels. A marble vanity lit by hidden LEDs held twin sinks, with rows of Jo Malone and Diptyque products arranged neatly like a luxury spa display.
Xiaoxi stepped closer, her hands trembling slightly. Dear God… my entire life I've only bathed in a cramped boarding room, and even then I had to slap the shower before it worked. And now—bathtub with a city view? Soap that costs as much as three months of rent?!
Finally, she slipped into the bathtub. The warm water enveloped her body, and she closed her eyes, exhaling a long, blissful sigh.
"Ahhh… so this is what heaven on earth feels like…" she whispered softly.
Inside, she screamed comically, If every day were like this, I wouldn't mind being dragged around by that devil Yu Chen! As long as I don't have to pay the installment for this bathtub!
When Xiaoxi stepped out of the bathroom, steam still clung to her skin. Her hair was slightly damp, her face looked fresh—though the awkwardness on her expression refused to fade.
Wait, I didn't really see this place clearly this morning… she realized, glancing around in awe. Now that I look properly, it's insanely luxurious. So this is how the rich live? God… I thought this only existed in TV dramas, but it's right here in front of my eyes.
Her eyes widened—half amazed, half bitter. Maybe this is a world I'll never belong to… unless I become Wei Yu Chen's cat sitter, maybe?
Her cheeks flushed at the thought, and she quickly shook her head. "Ugh… there I go again, thinking nonsense."
Wrapped in a thick white Ralph Lauren Home towel, Xiaoxi walked slowly toward Yu Chen's walk-in closet. Every step felt heavy—not from fear, but from overwhelming awe.
When the automatic glass doors opened, Xiaoxi nearly lost her breath again. The room wasn't just a closet—it was a museum of luxury fashion.
Dark oak floors met warm LED lighting hidden behind glass panels. Rows of Tom Ford and Brioni suits hung neatly by color. A glass display showcased Patek Philippe, Audemars Piguet, and Rolex Daytona watches that sparkled like jewels.
Berluti leather shoes and Balenciaga Triple S sneakers lined the lower racks in perfect symmetry. On the side, silk Hermès ties were folded perfectly in glass drawers, and colognes like Creed Aventus and Maison Francis Kurkdjian stood elegantly on a shelf under a soft spotlight.
Xiaoxi stood motionless, her eyes darting everywhere. Oh my God… this isn't a walk-in closet, this is a luxury museum. If I sneeze once in here, it might cost as much as an entire store branch's damage report.
With a pitiful face, she started sliding hangers, her fingers brushing against smooth, cool fabrics. "Oh no… I can't possibly wear this. If I walk into a meeting wearing a Tom Ford suit, people will think I'm a failed cosplayer…"
Her eyes finally landed on a simpler option: a plain white Dolce & Gabbana T-shirt and a pair of black Givenchy sweatpants.
Xiaoxi smiled in relief. Now that's more human. At least with this I won't look like a mafia boss… though still, these clothes probably cost more than my entire wardrobe combined.
She picked up the outfit, muttering to herself as she glanced around. "God… how can clothes like these cost that much? Damn you, Yu Chen. Why is your life a walking Vogue catalog, huh?"
The faint aroma of cooking drifted from the kitchen. Aunt Li was moving efficiently, the clatter of pans echoing softly as she prepared dinner. The penthouse felt warm and peaceful, broken only by the conversation in the living room.
Jiang Fan sat casually, but his gaze was sharp with curiosity. He leaned slightly toward Wei Yu Chen, who lounged elegantly on the sofa, a glass of fresh orange juice in hand.
"Ge," he began, half-serious, half-baffled. "How did you end up bringing Miss Xiao home last night? Don't tell me you suddenly turned into a guardian angel? Because as far as I know, you're not the type to care about a drunk person passed out anywhere."
Yu Chen didn't even glance his way. His expression remained unreadable. He took a slow sip of juice, then placed the glass back on the marble table. His sharp eyes stayed fixed on the phone in his hand, as if Jiang Fan's question were no more than background noise.
"Is it important to tell?" he replied flatly, his tone emotionless.
Jiang Fan sighed, clicking his tongue while shaking his head. "Tch… always like that. But honestly, Ge, I'm shocked. Of all the people you could've met… why her?"
Yu Chen turned slightly, a faint, unreadable smile curving his lips. "Coincidence. That's all."
He took another sip, calm and unhurried.
Jiang Fan leaned back, brows furrowed. The curiosity in him grew stronger, though he knew forcing more out of this cold man would be useless.
Just as the quiet tension hung in the air, light footsteps echoed from the corridor. Xiaoxi appeared, her hair still slightly damp, her face fresh after bathing, her body wrapped in clean clothes clearly not her own.
Jiang Fan's eyes widened instantly, while Yu Chen's lips curved again—that subtle, mysterious smile that filled the room with unspoken questions.
Soft footsteps echoed through the corridor as Xiaoxi emerged from the room. Her body radiated post-bath freshness; the scent of expensive soap clung faintly to her skin, cleansing the air itself.
She wore a simple white T-shirt and plain gray sweatpants—though in truth, they were Givenchy and Balenciaga—but on her petite frame, they looked as if custom-tailored. Slightly oversized, yet perfectly draped, highlighting her slender silhouette like a runway model.
Her shoulder-length wavy hair was half-dry, with a few strands falling naturally along her face. The warm lights reflected gently off her skin, giving her a bright, soft glow.
Jiang Fan, who had been relaxed a moment ago, fell completely silent. His eyes widened in disbelief, realizing that the girl—this supposedly ordinary woman—radiated an entirely different aura now. Even dressed casually, she looked like a high-end model who had stepped out of a magazine spread.
Yu Chen, too, watched, though his expression stayed cold. His sharp, controlled eyes traced her from head to toe. Yet there was a flicker—a subtle spark—in his gaze. Whether admiration or something else, it was hard to tell.
Xiaoxi, on the other hand, was exploding inside.
What the hell is this? Don't tell me they're seriously staring at me like that?
And don't think I don't recognize these brands, okay?! I just can't afford them, damn it! These clothes cost three months of my salary, easy!
She quickly flicked her hair, pretending to act nonchalant. But the more she tried to appear casual, the more her natural charm shone through—effortless, unintentional, and completely disarming.