The golden light of late afternoon poured through the crystalline walls of Linyue Atelier, gilding the displays in soft fire. Each gemstone glittered like captured starlight — meticulously arranged, lovingly polished, worthy. Linyue took quiet pride in that. He didn’t simply sell jewelry; he curated destinies. Every piece that left his hands was a promise, a legacy, a bond.

He’d seen hundreds of couples — trembling lovers, shy dreamers, the uncertain and the earnest alike. They came and went in waves, leaving traces of warmth and sentiment behind. Some were sincere. Some were not. But all were subject to his scrutiny.

So when the man and woman entered that day, he greeted them with his usual poise — a refined smile, a bow just deep enough to command respect. The man wore a tailored suit, expensive but unimaginative. The woman, adorned in glossy silk, carried herself like a flame expecting to be admired.

“Good afternoon,” Linyue said, voice as smooth as the pearls displayed behind him. “May I help you find something memorable?”

The man hesitated, glancing at the woman before speaking. “Yes… we’re looking for an engagement ring.”

A small, knowing hum escaped Linyue. His eyes moved between them — the nervous stiffness of the man’s shoulders, the glitter of satisfaction in the woman’s eyes. Something was… off. The rhythm between them lacked sincerity. It was a performance, an imitation of devotion.

Still, he offered them a selection, laying velvet trays before them like a priest setting relics on an altar. Diamonds, sapphires, delicate settings wrought in platinum — perfection in every form.

“Oh, this one,” the woman cooed, lifting a ring shaped like a blooming rose. “It’s much grander than the one your girlfriend wears, isn’t it?”

The words were careless, but they echoed sharply in the silence that followed.

Linyue’s gaze flicked upward. The man’s face paled. Ah. There it is. The faint scent of deceit — cheap perfume masking the rot beneath.

He smiled. Calm. Elegant. Icy.

“My lady,” he said softly, “you have quite the eye… though I must say, your comparison suggests you are not the fiancée, but rather—” his voice lowered, musical but cutting, “—a… companion of leisure?”

The woman froze. The man stammered.

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. With one measured motion, he closed the case before them, the click of the latch sharp as judgment.

“I see,” Linyue continued, straightening his cuffs. “Then I’m afraid, sir, that none of my rings are suited to your needs.”

The man blinked, flustered. “W–what do you mean?”

Linyue tilted his head, gaze cool and imperious. Then, with a sharp, deliberate gesture, he struck the man across the face — not hard enough to bruise, but hard enough to sting.

Gasps rippled from nearby customers. The sound of the slap lingered like thunder.

“Excuse me, sir,” Linyue said, perfectly calm. “If you enjoy secondhand things, I recommend you visit another jeweler.”

The words were wrapped in silk, but the disdain beneath them was diamond-hard.

He turned his back on them, already signaling an attendant to escort the pair out. “Please,” he added smoothly, “take your deceit elsewhere. My jewelry is crafted for those who understand loyalty — not indulgence.”

As the door shut behind them, the light caught on the glass once more, and Linyue adjusted a display, unbothered.

He despised cheaters? Not necessarily. The world was full of them. But his creations — his art — were not meant for the unworthy.

And as long as he stood behind that counter, not a single one of his jewels would adorn a liar’s hand.