Chapter One

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It was a bright autumn afternoon, sunlight streaming through the windows. In the corner café at the street’s turn, romantic piano music drifted gently through the air.

Xi Shi took a sip of his coffee, narrowing his long, fox-like eyes in contentment. “Sister Sun called me today,” he said. “She told me all the suits for the wedding are ready. School starts in a couple of days, so let’s find some time tomorrow or the day after to try them on, if you’re free?”

The handsome man sitting across from him was his fiancé, Shao Xun. The two of them were to be married by the end of the month.

Xi Shi was only twenty-one this year, still a fresh-faced university student, and truth be told, he had no real desire to step into marriage so early. But this was a family alliance—he had no say in the matter.

At least Shao Xun wasn’t bad-looking, had ambition, and among the idle sons of the capital, he was outstanding. Xi Shi was, all things considered, quite content with his fiancé.

Discussing wedding plans should have been a happy affair, but Shao Xun’s expression was grave.

“There’s no need to try them on,” he said. “I asked you here today because I want to talk about calling off the engagement.”

The smile on Xi Shi’s face froze.

“What do you mean by that, Shao Xun?”

“Yangyang has returned from abroad. Three years ago, I missed my chance with him because I hesitated. This time, I don’t want to let him slip away—I’d regret it for the rest of my life.”

Xi Shi could have laughed in anger.

This was an arranged marriage. They’d gotten engaged last year, set the wedding date at the beginning of this year—there had been a whole year for Shao Xun to change his mind. Yet he waited until the eve of their wedding to call it off.

The invitations had already been sent out.

How was Xi Shi supposed to hold his head up in Beijing’s social circles after this?

“I know it’s sudden,” Shao Xun continued. “This ten million is compensation. I hope we can part on good terms, and I ask that you don’t contact me again.”

He slid a check across the table to Xi Shi.

Xi Shi took a deep breath. “There’s no room for discussion?”

Shao Xun lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

Well. Very well.

“You mean Yangyang is that young master from the Wang family, Wang Yang? I heard he was coming back today. So, you dressed up like this not for me, but for him.”

Today, Shao Xun was dressed to the nines—formal suit, expensive watch, black onyx cufflinks. He was naturally good-looking, and with this getup, he was nothing short of dazzling, like a peacock about to spread its tail in courtship.

Shao Xun, having laid everything bare, no longer bothered to hide it. “Yes. His flight arrives at five. I have to go.”

He stood, nodded to Xi Shi, and turned to leave.

“Wait.”

Xi Shi pocketed the check. “Since you’ve given me so much, I have something for you too. Consider it a parting gift.”

It was Shao Xun who’d initiated the breakup, who’d offered the check, yet Xi Shi calmly pocketed the ten million and still wanted to give him a farewell present. It was unsettling.

Whenever he’d broken up with someone before, there had been tears and drama. Who could remain as composed as Xi Shi?

Had Xi Shi only ever seen their engagement as a mere family alliance?

The thought soured Shao Xun’s expression.

“What are you giving me?”

“I’m giving you...”

Suddenly, Xi Shi picked up his coffee and flung it into Shao Xun’s face.

“Eat shit, you bastard!”

Shao Xun was caught completely off guard. The dark liquid dripped down from his head and face, soaking his carefully chosen outfit—a pitiful sight.

Xi Shi turned and walked away with effortless grace.

It wasn’t until he got into his car that his shoulders slumped.

This was an arranged marriage—maybe not passionate, but he’d been prepared to spend his life with Shao Xun, and he’d given his sincere heart. To say he wasn’t hurt would be a lie.

But more than sorrow, he felt rage.

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He didn’t know Wang Yang, but in Beijing’s circles, news traveled fast.

A month ago, someone had mentioned in passing that Wang Yang was coming home. He’d asked then who Wang Yang was, and the man had smirked, telling him he’d find out soon enough.

Clearly, there was nothing secret about Shao Xun and Wang Yang—everyone knew but him.

Shao Xun had countless chances to come clean. Even when news of Wang Yang’s return reached him, their wedding plans were still in the works. Shao Xun could have told him then, and they could have ended things with dignity.

But he hadn’t. He waited until the very moment Wang Yang’s plane was about to land, tossing him aside with a ten million check. It spoke volumes about Shao Xun’s arrogance, selfishness, and irresponsibility.

All that sincerity, fed to the dogs.

The more Xi Shi thought about it, the angrier he became. He slammed a fist onto the steering wheel, hitting the horn by accident—a sharp, blaring honk.

Just at that moment, an old man rode his bike past the hood of his car. Startled by the sudden noise, the old man’s hands slipped, and he veered into a pedestrian.

Xi Shi was speechless.

This was absurd—absurd beyond belief.

Since it had started with him, he had to take responsibility. He got out of the car. The old man, still astride his bicycle, turned and shouted at him in a booming voice.

“You fool! Why the hell are you blaring your horn for no reason? You nearly gave this old man a heart attack!”

Xi Shi was about to retort when he caught sight of the man who’d been knocked over—and was stunned.

Handsome was too weak a word for him. Here was a face sculpted with the utmost care by the creator, tall and elegant, mature and restrained. Even sprawled on the ground, he was composed, displaying the calm of a man who had seen the world.

Like a solitary pine on a cliff, a snow lotus blooming on a crag, he had a proud, lonely beauty that took one’s breath away.

Cupid’s arrow struck true in that instant.

Xi Shi felt himself falling in love.

The old man, having steadied his bike, hurried to help the man up. “Are you hurt? I’m telling you now, any medical bills go to that kid who blasted his horn—not me.”

“I’ll pay. I’ll cover everything,” Xi Shi interjected.

The old man’s eyes lit up. “You said it yourself!”

“Yes, sir, you go on. I’ll handle it here.”

The old man grinned from ear to ear, and, fearing Xi Shi might change his mind, hopped on his bike and pedaled away at lightning speed.

Now only Xi Shi and the man remained.

Xi Shi’s heart thudded wildly in his chest.

He tried to suppress his budding feelings and asked with concern, “Sir, are you hurt?”

The man brushed the dust off his clothes. “It’s nothing serious. You can go.”

But Xi Shi refused to leave. “Your knee looks scraped. Are you sure you’re okay?”

The man frowned, glanced down at his leg—indeed, his right knee was scraped and stung.

He tested his foot and said, “Just a scratch, nothing to worry about.”

A scratch he could take responsibility for!

But clearly, the man wanted no help.

Seeing him prepare to leave, Xi Shi’s mind raced.

Maybe he could ask for his WeChat.

But what if he refused? That would be the end of it.

Yet the man was about to walk away—time was running out. How could he strike up a conversation that would land him a chance?

Xi Shi couldn’t bear the thought of letting this man vanish into the crowd. Noticing his awkward gait, he had a sudden idea.

“That scrape must hurt when you walk. Let me drive you home, or I’ll feel terrible.”

Please don’t refuse, please don’t refuse!

Heaven must have heard him, for after a pause, the man nodded. “Sorry for the trouble.”

Xi Shi almost burst out laughing in delight.

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It was nearly evening, and the man was probably heading home.

If he found out where the man lived, he could arrange chance meetings in the future. With enough encounters, surely they’d become acquainted. Love would follow.

Once in the car, the man gave his address. Xi Shi set the GPS and started driving.

On the way, he chatted idly, and to his satisfaction, managed to glean the crucial information: the man was currently single.

But as they reached the destination, Xi Shi nearly lost his composure.

It was a construction site.

“Do you work here?” he couldn’t help asking.

“Yes.” The man unfastened his seatbelt. “Thank you.”

“No, don’t mention it,” Xi Shi replied, disappointment washing over him.

He’d thought, judging by the man’s refined air, that he was some wealthy young master. Who would have guessed he worked on a construction site?

It wasn’t that Xi Shi looked down on such jobs; after all, the richest families in Beijing had started as migrant workers, and in less than three generations, they’d topped the city’s wealth rankings.

It was just—on the surface, Xi Shi was the young master of the Xi family, renowned jewelers. But his parents had died young, and he’d been raised by his uncle. For families like theirs, neither truly powerful nor entirely unimportant, marriage had long become a tool for alliances.

His next arranged match might not have the Shao family’s pedigree—perhaps even lower than the Xi family’s—but at the very least, the family had to have some standing, something beneficial to theirs.

His uncle would never let him marry a construction worker.

After all these years of being raised by his uncle, Xi Shi couldn’t bring himself to break ties over a man.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the man opening the car door.

He caught sight of the man’s hands—fair and elegant, like works of art. Hope flickered anew.

Not everyone who came to a construction site was a worker. Could he be a supervisor, perhaps a client’s representative?

Just then, the man’s phone chimed. As he got out, he listened to a voice message: “Don’t worry about the money; the boss has already advanced your pay…”

Before the voice finished, the man shut it off, but the message was clear—he needed money.

What kind of client’s representative needs their wages advanced?

That hope was thoroughly extinguished.

With a thud, the man shut the car door, as if drawing a curtain on their brief encounter.

Watching him walk away, Xi Shi acted on impulse and rolled down the window.

“Hey! Do you want a high-paying, easy part-time job?” he called after the man’s retreating figure.

Without missing a beat, the man replied, “No, thank you.”

So cold, so heartless, so unyielding.

Unwilling to give up, Xi Shi pressed on, “At least hear me out first—don’t you want to know what kind of job it is?”

At last, the man turned, his cool gaze settling on Xi Shi.

“What kind of job?”

Those eyes seemed to see right through him, making Xi Shi swallow nervously.

But as a young college student yet unscarred by the world, Xi Shi was bold and fearless.

Looking at the man with clear, earnest eyes, he said, “Be my kept lover. Let me take care of you.”

The man was speechless.