The penthouse was quiet, but it wasn't a peaceful quiet. It was the kind of silence that made Xiaowei's skin crawl.
Xiaowei slept fitfully, her dreams a chaotic mix of Bai Xue's sneering face, Madam Gu's piercing eyes, and the cold weight of a diamond that was a testament to betrayal. She woke with a headache and a resolve hardened to steel.
As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, the soft carpet beneath her feet was a gentle reminder that she was still in unfamiliar territory. She stood up, and the silky fabric of her nightgown slid down her legs, pooling at her feet. She shivered, despite the warmth of the room, and reached for the robe that lay draped over the back of a nearby chair.
She emerged from her room just after 7 a.m., dressed in one of the simple but well-made outfits from the closet—a pair of tailored trousers and a soft cashmere sweater. The goal was to look put-together, unbothered, and ready for war. The scent of coffee hit her first, rich and promising. She followed it to the kitchen, a vast space of gleaming stainless steel and dark granite that looked like it had never been used.
Gu Yichen was there. He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, a porcelain coffee cup in his hand, already dressed in a suit that probably cost more than her old car. He looked like he'd been carved from the dawn itself—perfect, cold, and remote. He didn't turn as she entered.
"Morning," he said, not turning around, but his voice was like a gentle touch on her skin, making her feel a little more at ease.
"Good morning," Xiaowei replied, her voice a little softer than she'd intended. She moved to the sophisticated espresso machine, a hulking beast of chrome with more buttons than a spaceship. She stared at it. In her past life, her coffee maker had one button: 'ON'.
Gu Yichen glanced over his shoulder, watching her hesitation. A micro-expression that might have been amusement flickered across his face. "The instructions are in the manual. In the drawer to your left."
Xiaowei's pride bruised. She was not going to be bested by a kitchen appliance. "I'm sure I can figure it out. I'm not completely helpless." She started pressing buttons at random. The machine whirred to life, lights flashed, and with a gurgling sound, it ejected a stream of hot water and steam directly onto the countertop, narrowly missing her sleeve.
She jumped back with a yelp feeling a little like she'd been punched in the gut.
Gu Yichen's soft chuckle was the last thing she needed. "Or perhaps you are," he murmured, taking a sip of his own, perfectly brewed coffee, his eyes glinting with amusement. It was infinitely insulting.
Humiliation burned hotter than the steam. She grabbed a cloth and mopped up the water, her movements sharp. "You know, for a man who needs a human shield, you're remarkably unhelpful to your chosen shield."
"The contract stipulates room and board. It does not stipulate barista training."he replied, his voice dripping with logic, but with a hint of warmth.
"The contract also stipulates 'mutual benefit'," she shot back, wringing out the cloth. "Let me be clear. My benefit is the money. Your benefit is me successfully pretending to be your wife. Me being caffeinated directly contributes to my ability to perform that duty without committing homicide before 8 a.m. So, in the spirit of mutual benefit," she said, gesturing dramatically to the machine, "how does this monstrosity work?"
He studied her for a long moment, her cheeks flushed with anger, her hair still slightly damp from her shower. She was a mess of defiance and practicality, standing across him. Slowly, he set his cup down and walked over.
"It's not a monstrosity. It's engineering." He began pressing buttons with swift, precise movements. "Grind. Dose. Tamp. The water temperature is pre-set. It's a matter of logic, not force.
He made it look effortless. In less than a minute, a perfect, aromatic shot of espresso was dripping into a cup. He pushed it toward her.
"Was that so hard?"he asked, his voice low and teasing
"Your continued survival seems to be,"she retorted, picking up the cup and taking a sip, her eyes closing in bliss.
Picking up his own cup, he walked back to his post by the window.
Xiaowei added hot water from a kettle to the espresso, making an Americano, and took a bracing sip. The caffeine was a welcome jolt to her system. As they stood there, sipping their coffee, the silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable. She decided to break it on her own terms.
"So, what's on the agenda for your… asset today?" she asked, leaning against the counter. "More jewelry fittings? A lecture on which fork to use for salad? Or am I be at home to continue practicing docile expressions?"
""You're coming with me to the office," he said, his voice dripping with disdain, still looking out the window.
That surprised her. "The office? Why? Is there a board meeting that needs a human touch?"
"There is a lunch. With a foreign delegation. Your performance last night, while… unorthodox, demonstrated a certain capacity for handling social pressure. Your presence will reinforce the image of a stable personal life, which is beneficial for negotiations."
"Ah," she said, taking another sip. "So I'm a prop for business now. My resume expands. 'Professional Wife: Capable of fawning over heirlooms and charming foreigners.' Do I get a new title? Director of Domestic Deception?"
He finally turned to face her fully, his impatience beginning to show. "Your title is Mrs. Gu. You would do well to remember that."
"Oh, I remember," she said softly, her eyes locking with his. "I remember the terms, the conditions, the five million. I remember everything. Don't worry, husband. I'll be so convincing, they'll give us a standing ovation."
Just then, her stomach let out a loud, unmistakable growl. The sound was jarringly human in the vacant space. She hadn't eaten much at the tense dinner last night.
Gu Yichen's gaze dropped to her stomach and then back to her face, one eyebrow arched like a question, and Xiaowei felt a surge of embarrassment.
"What?" she challenged, her voice rising, "Even pawns get hungry. Or does the contract forbid bodily functions?"
Without a word, he picked up a small tablet from the counter, tapped the screen a few times, and set it down. "Breakfast will be delivered in fifteen minutes. Try not to assault the delivery person."
Twenty minutes later, they were seated at the long, empty dining table. A spread of food had appeared—steaming congee, delicate soup dumplings, and an assortment of fresh fruit. It was a feast for two people who had nothing to say to each other.
Xiaowei ate with a focused enthusiasm that was probably appalling by Gu-family standards. Gu Yichen, in contrast, ate with a surgical precision, his movements economical and silent and he watched her, his eyes glinting with amusement.
He watched her over the rim of his coffee cup. "My grandmother's assistant called this morning."
Xiaowei paused, a dumpling halfway to her mouth. "Oh? Did she want a review of my performance? On a scale of one to ten, how convincing was my appreciation for the mistress's necklace?"
"She is sending an invitation. For you. A charity tea at her club tomorrow afternoon."
The dumpling fell from her chopsticks with a soft plop back into the dish. "What? By myself?"
"It would seem so. It is a… rite of passage for the women in the family."
Panic, cold and sharp, lanced through her. A room full of Madam Gus and Bai Xues? Without Gu Yichen's icy, intimidating presence as a shield? It was a den of wolves, and she was being thrown in as the fresh meat.
"I can't do that," she said, her voice losing its boldness.
"You don't have a choice. Refusing would be a direct insult."
"But… what do I do? What do I say?"
For the first time, he looked at her with something that wasn't disdain or calculation. It was simple, stark assessment. "You will do what you did last night. You will observe. You will be polite. And you will not," he said, his voice dropping, "don't let them see you sweat."
He stood, his breakfast finished. "The car leaves for the office in thirty minutes. Be ready."
He walked away, leaving her alone at the vast table, surrounded by the remnants of the meal. The charity tea tomorrow loomed in her mind, a far more terrifying prospect than any business lunch. This wasn't just about playing a part for a few hours; this was about being absorbed into the pillar of his world, and she was dangerously out of her depth.
She looked down at her hands. They were trembling slightly. She balled them into fists.
Okay, Lin Xiaowei, she thought, the new-old name feeling more familiar by the minute. You survived death. You survived being sold. You can survive a tea party.
But as she sat in the silent, gilded cage, a terrifying thought occurred to her. The biggest threat might not be the wolves outside. It might be the slow, chilling realization that to survive a year in this world, she might have to start becoming a part of it.