After an intense and passionate night, calm returned.
Shen Wuxiao had originally planned to leave afterward, but somehow, three hours slipped by. Before he realized it, dawn had arrived.
So, he stayed.
Liu Ruyan didn’t know yet.
Curled up in Shen Wuxiao’s arms, her voice was soft and tinged with emotion. “Are you going to shower before you leave?”
“Shut up and go to sleep,” Shen Wuxiao replied without opening his eyes.
Liu Ruyan was slightly startled but quickly smiled. Her heart fluttered, though she also felt nervous.
Still, she was happy.
“Can you hold me?” she asked without thinking, driven by instinct and emotion.
But Shen Wuxiao didn’t respond. He lay flat on his back, eyes closed as if already asleep.Liu Ruyan felt a dull ache in her chest. Bitterness surged through her, a deep sadness spreading from her heart to her limbs.
Her body felt weak—like the numbness from heartbreak.
She kept testing her emotional limits, knowing this relationship would never go anywhere. She knew it was wrong, yet couldn’t stop.
She had begun to crave Shen Wuxiao’s warmth, even if it was just a fleeting favor.
Unfortunately, he never cared about her feelings.
And the more distant he was, the more she wanted to get close.
Stockholm syndrome truly was a form of masochism.
As the night deepened, Liu Ruyan remained wide awake.
Only when a pair of arms wrapped around her waist did she finally relax.
Whether Shen Wuxiao did it intentionally or not, it calmed her anxious heart.
She was like a white rabbit, fully aware of the big bad wolf beside her, yet still choosing to snuggle closer—knowing she could be torn apart at any moment.
She didn’t care. She held his arms tightly and refused to let go.
“From beginning to end, it all feels like a dream. I can’t even tell what’s real anymore…”
“But… my heart really hurts.”
Liu Ruyan murmured softly and finally drifted into sleep.
…
The next morning, when she opened her eyes, the man who held her through the night was already gone.
Emptiness and sorrow flooded in again.
All she could do was lean against the headboard and sigh deeply.
What was supposed to be simple revenge had grown complicated. She could have used her body to seduce Shen Wuxiao without emotional attachment, just as a tool to achieve her goal.
But she didn’t expect to be undone by her own hidden illness.
The more Shen Wuxiao ignored her, the colder and more heartless he became—the more madly she fell in love with him.
Even so, the path she had chosen couldn’t be changed.
She would go through with it no matter what.
Even if it meant more pain.
…
Time passed quickly, and soon the day of the banquet arrived.
Shen Wuxiao was planning to take Jiang Huaiyue with him.
Though the event had already begun, he wasn’t in a rush to leave.
At the Bay Villa, he sat comfortably, watching Jiang Huaiyue change outfits one after another. It was like enjoying a private fashion show.
Honestly, it was far more entertaining than the dinner itself.
Those formal gatherings were always the same—people standing around in groups, fake smiles, polite chatter, holding wine glasses like props.
Behind the scenes, they had their own secrets, but on the surface, everyone acted proper.
These events were mainly for networking, securing business ties, and getting close to the new city leader.
But Shen Wuxiao had no interest in making friends.
He had more money and power than he could ever use.
In the past, he’d only attended these events to deal with Lin Fan.
If he arrived too early, he’d be surrounded by annoying social climbers buzzing in his ear.
Extremely irritating.
But Lin Fan would definitely arrive early.
According to the logic of protagonists, wherever they go, drama follows.
Someone would definitely start a petty conflict. Then came the shouting matches, the arrogant small-time villain trying to use influence to embarrass the protagonist, followed by a major reversal—and the appearance of a hidden powerful backer.
It was practically a script.
And as expected, everything went just as Shen Wuxiao predicted.
At the Ziyang Trade and Exhibition Center, Lin Fan had already arrived.
The hall was grand, filled with luxury. But Lin Fan stuck out like a sore thumb.
In a place where everyone wore suits and ties, his casual attire made him look wildly out of place.
He wore a dusty jacket, old sneakers with dried mud, and an indifferent expression.
It was like he wanted to be ridiculed.
Perhaps he thought dressing this way made him look “real,” or maybe he just wanted to stay low-key.
Either way, he ended up attracting even more attention—and not the good kind.
He wandered toward the buffet table, picked up a plate, and started eating like he was at a street stall.
People whispered and sneered.
Everyone here had some level of status or wealth. Seeing someone so out of touch made them uncomfortable.
But Lin Fan didn’t care. People could say whatever they liked—he felt no shame.
He had a mouth of his own, and food to enjoy.
He hadn’t done anything, yet he was already the focus of ridicule.
And when the inevitable “accident” happened, things escalated quickly.
As he headed toward the restroom, a young woman in a designer dress and holding a wine glass stumbled into his path.
“Ah!” she screamed as she lost her balance.
Lin Fan reacted instantly, grabbing her hand and steadying her before she fell. Not a drop of wine spilled.
He really was quick.
He stayed calm and said, “Miss, watch your step.”
Then he turned to leave.
But the girl’s face twisted in disgust. She didn’t thank him—instead, she looked offended, as if she’d been violated.
The fact that he’d touched her hand disgusted her.
“You filthy beggar! Are you blind?” she snapped.
Lin Fan stopped and turned back.
His voice remained calm. “Miss, I just saved you. You nearly fell. If anything, you should be thanking me. Why insult me?”
The girl rolled her eyes.
“Thank you? Please,” she sneered. “Do you even know what you are?”
“You bumped into me on purpose, didn’t you? Trying to take advantage? I’ve seen your kind before—slimeballs who sneak into banquets just to get close to women.”
“Even smelling my perfume probably made your year. And you dared to touch me!”
Her tone was arrogant. Her expression reeked of disdain.
Her every word dripped with contempt.
It made people want to slap her.