As the clock neared the start of the workday, figures hurried through the lobby of Yueshen Group's headquarters building, with all four elevators nearly at capacity.
Shang Chi took the executive elevator on the opposite side, swiping his ID card over the sensor and pressing the button for the twenty-eighth floor.
The elevator doors opened. He turned left, swiped his ID card at the access point, and the glass doors slid open, revealing his designated office area.
Not far from the entrance was his assistant Xiaofang's workstation.
Spotting Shang Chi, Xiaofang abruptly stifled a half-formed yawn, springing to her feet. "Mr. Shang, you're in so early today."
Yueshen Group's R&D department operated on a flexible schedule, requiring only eight hours of daily attendance.
Shang Chi typically arrived later and left later.
He approached Xiaofang's station. "Which card should my salary be deposited into?"
Xiaofang named a bank.
"Leave twenty... no, leave fifty thousand in that card. Transfer the rest to another account—" He hissed.
Shang Chi pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, brows furrowing as he fought back a sudden wave of stinging sensation.
Xiao Fang nodded, jotting down the instructions. Noticing Shang Chi's restrained intake of breath, he quipped, "Mr. Shang, feeling a sneeze coming on? Back home, we say that means someone's thinking of you."
"Could be the Madam carefully selecting potential matchmaking candidates for you."
Shang Chi was naturally aloof, and the smile often playing at the corners of his lips felt more like a social mask.
Gentle in appearance, distant in essence.
But Xiao Fang, having worked as his assistant for years, knew his private nature—a bit like a big cat.
Only when provoked did he reveal a hint of a predator's fierce temperament; most of the time, he was lazily indifferent.
Exchanging a few jokes or harmless witticisms might even draw a mischievous retort from Shang Chi.
Even when mistakes were made, he never flew into a rage. Instead, he would coldly scrutinize the corrective actions taken afterward. If satisfactory, he'd offer a light-hearted comment; if not, the person would be transferred out of HR immediately.
Not particularly easygoing, but undoubtedly a good leader—you learn real skills working under him.
Hearing Xiaofang's joke now, Shang Chi merely chuckled indifferently, the corners of his mouth curling into a careless smile.
"She's definitely not thinking about me. More like cursing me."
Xiaofang chimed in, "But someone else is thinking about you."
Shang Chi smiled but said nothing, only casually resting his hand on the edge of the desk as he resumed his earlier unfinished sentence.
"Your salary will still be deposited into that card. Change the password."
"Change it to xx1103."
Xiao Fang, adhering to professional courtesy, inquired, "Is this a special number that needs to be recorded?"
Shang Chi replied nonchalantly, "I suppose so. It's our wedding anniversary."
Xiao Fang: "Got it... huh?"
His notebook nearly slipped from his grasp. As he scrambled to steady it, his eyes fell upon the man's hand resting lightly on the table edge.
Slim as bamboo, with clearly defined knuckles.
Truly beautiful.
At that moment, a platinum wedding band adorned his left ring finger, set with a pale green diamond.
"I forgot to mention," Shang Chi's voice came slowly, "Ms. He won't be arranging blind dates for you anymore. I'm married now."
Xiao Fang: "?!?"
Xiao Fang's head spun.
He had no idea what had changed his boss's mind—the man who'd once firmly refused blind dates had gotten married in just two days.
But that wasn't important.
What mattered was why the boss had chosen to tell him this.
First off, it definitely wasn't to ask for a wedding gift.
Second...
Xiao Fang stole a glance at Shang Chi's expression.
No way, no way—surely no one would just look at the surface and think that the 0.5-degree lift in his eyebrows meant he was gloating?
Only an assistant as sharp as him could accurately grasp the boss's meaning—
"Understood, Mr. Shang."
Xiao Fang smirked triumphantly. "Are we preparing for your wedding with Mrs. Shang? Or redecorating the bridal suite to her taste? You own several villas in prime locations with serene surroundings—perfect for building your love nest."
Huh? Why didn't Mr. Shang seem pleased?
Xiao Fang grew nervous and ventured another guess: "Or perhaps you wish to contact the master jeweler for custom wedding rings? I have the contact information for the artisan who crafted the diamond ring for Chairman Shang's wedding. He specializes in diamond cutting and setting techniques. If you require..."
Why did his lips turn down? Something was off?
Xiao Fang's forehead broke out in sweat as he tried again: "Perhaps you need a lawyer to draft a prenuptial agreement. After inventorying your assets, they can draft terms reflecting your wishes—whether mutual non-interference or property transfer..."
Xiao Fang trailed off.
The boss's expression darkened. His eyes were deep and intense, the muscles at his jawline taut with clenched teeth.
After a long pause, he coldly squeezed out, "None of that is necessary."
Then he turned and walked away.
Xiao Fang clutched his notepad, inwardly weeping.
He'd followed the exact same process as the eldest son's wedding.
Why was the second son so furious?!
"..."
Shang Chi returned to his office, irritably flicking back a strand of hair from his forehead.
The wedding, the bridal suite, the engagement ring.
Constrained by his fabricated identity, he couldn't deliver on any of it.
He sank expressionlessly into his chair, thinking.
If he could go back in time.
Shang Chi would choose the day he first met Mingzhuo. He'd pin down that careless, blabbering version of himself.
Stop! Talking! Nonsense!
He recalled the drive to Mingzhuo's studio earlier that day.
They casually chatted about weddings.
Mingzhu was thoughtful: "Weddings cost a fortune. Only my teacher and Jingjing could attend from my side, and even my father might not make it. Honestly, we could skip it."
"Instead of splurging on a ceremony, we could save that money for daily living expenses."
As she spoke, she unconsciously nodded, trying to reinforce her point. A strand of hair curled above her forehead, swaying slightly, utterly adorable.
Shang Chi found her charming, yet a glimmer of hope flickered within him. He tentatively asked, "What if I were very wealthy?"
His tone was light and smiling, so Mingzhu didn't suspect a thing.
She replied without hesitation: "Then I wouldn't marry you."
Shang Chi froze, glancing at her swiftly.
Ming Zhe remained serene, her eyes still softly curved in a faint smile.
She was serious.
Shang Chi let out a drawn-out laugh, feigning nonchalance. "So heartless?"
Ming Zhe murmured softly, her lashes fluttering as she explained gently.
"If that were the case, you'd have better, more suitable options."
Why would he choose her?
"..."
The soft trailing note faded into the air, but to Shang Chi's ears, it carried another meaning—
He was driven by his family's pressure, she by her teacher's expectations. Thus, by a twist of fate, they had come together.
This marriage was, at its core, a fair exchange.
If the scales tipped unevenly, she would not take that step.
Shang Chi steered the wheel with one hand, pulling the car to a stop by the roadside. "We're here."
Ming Zhu pushed open the door and stepped out, tilting her face slightly upward with a gentle smile as she bid him farewell.
Shang Chi suddenly unbuckled his seatbelt, leaned over, and pinched her soft cheek.
In the wide, almond-shaped eyes of the girl staring back, he murmured softly, "I'll pick you up this afternoon."
Mingzhu's ears flushed slightly as she obediently replied, "Okay."
The passenger door slammed shut.
Shang Chi fastened his seatbelt again, watching Mingzhu's retreating figure. The faint smile that always lingered in his dark eyes vanished.
She didn't even want to marry him.
Who knew if she'd demand a divorce once she learned the truth?
Divorce was impossible.
But he couldn't deceive her forever either.
Then... he'd wait.
Wait until Mingzhu grew fond of him, until divorce was no longer an option.
Then he'd confess.