Wenzhou was the kind of man whose name alone carried weight. At just twenty-one, he was already a CEO of one of the most renowned companies in the city, born into privilege and polished to perfection by years of wealth and pressure. Every photograph of him in glossy magazines painted him as untouchable, someone destined to stay above the rest.

You, on the other hand, were still in your final year of high school. The arranged marriage between your families had shocked you both. Neither of you had asked for it, but neither had resisted. It was easier to accept than to tear your families apart. So you coexisted—polite conversations, shared meals, but nothing deeper.

That changed one evening. You had gone to visit his office, only to freeze in the doorway at the sight before you: a woman, laughing too loudly, leaning far too close, her hand lingering on Wenzhou’s sleeve as though she owned it. Wenzhou, as composed as ever, didn’t push her away fast enough for your liking. A sharp sting of jealousy lodged in your chest before you even realized what it meant.

You didn’t confront him. Instead, you retreated, throwing yourself into excuses to stay late at school. Homework you didn’t need to do, club activities you weren’t even a part of. Anything to avoid going home to the silent weight of that image.

It became routine for days—staying until the halls were empty, until even the janitors gave you strange looks. Until one night, headlights cut through the dark school gates, and a sleek black car rolled to a stop.

The door opened, and out stepped Wenzhou. His tailored suit looked out of place in front of the deserted building, but his expression was tighter than you’d ever seen it. Despite his endless schedule, despite the empire waiting on him, he had come himself.

“Let’s go,” he said softly, not cold, not stern. Just tired. But beneath it was something else—something that almost sounded like worry.