“Sure.”
Ryan Lu’s heart leapt when Vivian Wen took the initiative.
He could barely hide his excitement.
Helen Zhao, though displeased, couldn’t stop them without drawing suspicion. She shot Ryan a warning glance instead, her expression calm but her eyes sharp as daggers.
Once they stepped out of the neighborhood gate, Ryan’s eagerness could no longer be contained.
He reached out to pull Vivian close, his hand slipping around her slender waist.
“Vivian, where are we going?” he asked, his voice thick with anticipation.
If not for Helen’s interference the last time, he would have already “claimed” her.
But tonight, he swore to himself—nothing would stop him again.
Vivian leaned slightly toward him, just enough to make his breath hitch.
Heat rushed to his head—then she abruptly sidestepped, slipping out of his grasp and striding ahead.
Ryan froze, embarrassed, rubbing his palms against his trousers before hurrying after her.
“This place isn’t convenient,” Vivian said lightly, flashing a smile that seemed to melt under the streetlights.
She raised her hand and hailed a taxi.
When it stopped, she opened the door and tilted her chin toward the passenger seat. “Get in.”
Ryan’s mind buzzed.
She wants to go somewhere private.
A grin spread across his face as he ducked into the car, visions of a hotel room already filling his thoughts.
“Vivian, come on, get in!” he urged, patting the seat beside him impatiently.
Her lips curved into a faint, intoxicating smile.
“Driver,” she said sweetly through the open window, “please take my boyfriend home—Lüjing New City. He’s had too much to drink.”
Before Ryan could react, she shut the door with a crisp bang.
The taxi pulled away, Ryan pounding on the window.
“Stop the car! Stop—let me out!”
The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror, unimpressed.
“Yeah, yeah. Sleep it off, buddy,” he muttered. “Seen plenty like you.”

After sending Ryan away, Vivian took a small phone out of her coat pocket—one she had deftly slipped from his jacket just moments earlier.
She powered it off, removed the SIM card, and tossed both into a roadside bush.
A faint smile ghosted across her lips.
As she walked alone under the night sky, the city shimmered with the soft glow of streetlights—gold and quiet, like velvet over glass.
Something about the moment made her think of Simon Min.
She suddenly wanted to call him.
But then again…
what reason did she have?
What was she to him?
He’d only agreed to act as her “boyfriend for a day” during the engagement banquet—nothing more.
He wasn’t obliged to entertain her idle talk.
Vivian held her phone for a long time, thumb hovering over his name, before sighing and slipping it back into her pocket.

An hour later, she returned home.
The moment she stepped through the door, Helen Zhao shot up from the sofa, rushing toward her.
“Why were you gone so long for just a walk? Ryan—he didn’t… do anything to you, did he?”
Helen’s tone dripped with false concern, but her eyes darted with nervousness.
Vivian tilted her head, one delicate hand brushing against her neck.
“Auntie, I’m tired. I’ll rest now.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and disappeared into her room.
Helen frowned, unease creeping in.
She walked out to the balcony, phone in hand, and dialed Ryan.
But the call went straight to voicemail.
Switched off.
Her stomach tightened.
Something wasn’t right.
What had happened between them tonight?
Why would Ryan turn off his phone?
Pacing the room, she chewed her lip in frustration before finally deciding—
she’d find him tomorrow and demand an explanation in person.

In her room, Vivian typed a brief message to her private investigator:
“Tomorrow, Helen Zhao will go to see Ryan Lu.
Be there—and make sure you get plenty of footage.”
She powered off her phone, leaning back against the headboard.
The investigator had been tailing the pair for weeks, but still hadn’t caught solid proof of their affair.
If the opportunity refused to appear—
then she would create one herself.
Vivian’s lips curved into a quiet, confident smile.

Soon, the day before the engagement banquet arrived.
Everything was unfolding just as she planned.
And the most important part of her plan—the key piece—was Simon Min.
That afternoon, after class, she finally dialed his number.

Simon Min was in the middle of a high-level meeting when his phone began to vibrate across the table.
He reached out, intending to silence it—
but froze when he saw the name flashing on the screen: Vivian Wen.
The executives in the room exchanged glances.
They had never seen their boss hesitate before.
After a beat of stunned silence, Simon rose, picked up his phone, and walked straight out of the room.
“Hello?” he answered coolly. His tone was calm, distant.
Vivian cleared her throat. “Mr. Min, are you free today?”
“Say what you need to say over the phone,” Simon replied evenly. “I’m very busy.”
He wasn’t lying.
Negotiations with one of the world’s top corporations had consumed his week—endless meetings from dawn till midnight, compounded by the weight of his own company’s affairs.
But his voice—normally smooth and low—carried a faint edge of coldness.
The image of another man’s voice echoing through Vivian’s call still lingered in his mind.
Vivian, unaware of the reason, felt a pang of confusion.
In just a few days, his tone toward her had grown distant… almost icy.
Why?