---
Li Xinyue didn't believe in coincidences. She believed in control. In precision. In calculated moves that built empires and destroyed opponents. But tonight, under the low hum of bar lights and soft music, she found herself doing something she hadn't done in a long time—drifting without direction.
She was supposed to be discussing marriage contracts tonight. Not staring into her glass, thinking about rebellion. But rebellion, it seemed, tasted better than 18-year-old whiskey.
And he—he was the first thing she hadn't calculated in years.
---
The bar wasn't high-end—certainly not her usual preference. It reeked of late-night desperation and cheap aftershave, but the lighting was low, the booths secluded, and more importantly, her assistant didn't know she was here.
Perfect.
She sank into the corner seat, crossing one long leg over the other. The deep red of her silk dress shimmered like spilled wine under the pendant lights. A pair of intoxicated college boys stumbled past, nearly bumping into her before freezing in place. One tried to say something, but she met his eyes—sharp, cold, amused—and he muttered an apology and scurried off.
Li Xinyue's presence demanded reverence.
Behind the bar, a young man was working, sleeves rolled to his elbows. He didn't notice her at first—too focused on the bottle he was pouring. His movements were smooth, precise, almost elegant.
When he looked up, their eyes met. Just for a second.
And that second was enough.
She took a breath. Something about him—the innocence, the subtle intelligence in his eyes, the way he immediately looked away like he wasn't used to being seen—hooked her.
She stood and walked to the bar.
"Whiskey," she said.
He glanced up. "Yes, ma'am. Neat?"
"Yes."
His voice was deep, softer than she expected. There was a natural politeness to him, not forced or flirty like most bartenders. He poured expertly, setting the glass down in front of her with a gentle clink.
"Do you usually work this shift?" she asked.
He blinked. "Only Thursdays and Sundays."
"Student?"
"Yeah. Third-year computer science."
"And yet working here."
He chuckled lightly. "Tuition doesn't pay itself."
She smiled faintly. "What's your name?"
He hesitated. "Han Jiayan."
"Li Xinyue."
The name hit him. Recognition flickered in his eyes. Everyone in the city knew that name. Yuehua Corp. One of the most powerful families in China.
Jiayan straightened instinctively. "Ah…thank you for coming here, ma'am. I-I mean, it's an honor."
She waved it off. "Relax. I'm not here for formalities."
He looked like he didn't know how to do anything but formalities.
She sipped the whiskey, watching him curiously. He was young—very young. Probably not even twenty-one. But that didn't matter. In fact, it worked in her favor.
"What would you do," she asked suddenly, "if I offered you five million yuan?"
Jiayan coughed, nearly dropping the glass he was wiping. "I'd think you were joking."
She wasn't smiling.
"I'm serious. Five million yuan. One-year contract. You marry me."
The words dropped like a thunderclap.
Jiayan stared at her, stunned. "W-What?"
"You heard me."
He laughed awkwardly. "This… this is some kind of prank, right? Did someone put you up to this?"
"I don't have time for pranks. I need a husband. Temporary. Fake, legally binding, but contractually clear. And I need one immediately."
Jiayan gawked at her. "Why me?"
She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand.
"Because I can control you."
His heart thudded.
"I need someone who won't fight me. Someone who won't challenge me. Someone I can present to my family and say, 'Here, I made my own choice.' They'll throw a fit, but they can't object—it'll be too public. Too late."
Jiayan's jaw worked silently. "This is insane."
"It's practical."
He shook his head. "There's no way I could fit into your world. Your family would eat me alive."
"That's not your concern. I'll handle them."
"Then what am I to you? Just a pretty puppet?"
Her eyes sparkled. "Exactly."
Jiayan stood there, unsure whether to feel insulted, terrified, or impressed. All three, probably. He was just a poor boy from the outskirts. She was… a goddess with a wallet thick enough to suffocate his problems.
Still, he shook his head. "I'm sorry. I can't. I—"
"Ten million."
His breath caught. "Are you serious?"
"Very. And you'll get more if you behave."
Jiayan stared down at the counter. Ten million. That was more than his family could dream of. More than enough to save his father's small clinic. More than enough to put his sisters through college. More than enough to start his own company.
But...
"You think money can buy everything?" he asked quietly.
She stood, her heels clicking as she walked around the bar, standing just inches from him. The scent of jasmine and expensive perfume filled his nose.
"No," she whispered. "But it can rent obedience."
---
She handed him a sleek black folder. "Inside are the terms. One week. Think about it."
Jiayan didn't take it.
She smirked, placing it gently on the bar.
Then leaned in close, lips just near his ear.
"If you're going to be beneath me, Mr. Han… learn how to kneel first."
And with that, she walked out of the bar, leaving behind the scent of power and temptation—and a storm that would soon consume both their lives.