By noon, the stock market had adjusted.
It wasn't just the Zhang family's stock that took a sudden hit—it was the shift in capital behavior. Private investors pulled back. Partner companies "delayed" meetings. Independent luxury buyers returned prototype bids they'd accepted just days ago.
The Zhang patriarch had built a fortress out of polished connections and polished reputations.
But Shen Rui had quietly cut through its foundation with a single phone call.
And now, the capital watched him more closely than ever.
Not because he was ruthless.
They already knew that.
Not because he was cold.
That was his brand.
But because he was loyal—and that, somehow, was terrifying.
Shen Rui never protected anyone. He barely spoke unless necessary. Even during volatile boardroom negotiations, he didn't blink when others flinched. But now… now he wasn't just tolerating a woman beside him.
He was defending her. Funding her. Backing her decisions publicly.
And worst of all—he wasn't even trying to make it a spectacle.
There was no post.
No interview.
No announcement.
Just action.
When the news spread that Shen Rui had cut ties with Zhang Conglomerate after Zhang Min insulted Lin Xie, the reaction wasn't confusion.
It was calculation.
Because everyone realized:
He was all-in.
And that made Lin Xie... no longer just a mysterious anomaly from nowhere.
She was a variable. A wild card. A high-risk asset with impossible value.
And Shen Rui had placed his full portfolio behind her.
—
At that exact moment, Lin Xie was seated on the penthouse couch, barefoot, hair still damp from her shower, with a notebook open and a plate of sliced fruit untouched beside her.
She didn't notice the city burning with rumors.
She was too busy designing a dual-schedule algorithm for her overlapping university majors.
Shen Rui walked in, silent as usual, until he sat beside her and gently moved the untouched fruit closer.
"You're not eating," he said.
"I forgot," she answered honestly, not looking up.
He peered at her notes.
A full week of overlapping subjects, color-coded in microsectors, with logic chains attached to her sleep schedule.
It looked less like a student plan and more like a classified national defense blueprint.
"You're doing too much," he said, casually brushing a damp strand of hair behind her ear. "You don't have to prove anything."
"I'm not proving," she replied, blinking. "I'm performing at 35% to avoid raising suspicion."
Shen Rui paused. "That's 35%?"
"Yes."
He looked at her.
Then leaned back with a small, unreadable smile. "Okay. Then do what you want."
"I already am."
"I mean… career-wise."
Lin Xie turned to him. "You mean long term?"
"I mean what you want to do. Not what you're built to do."
She hesitated.
Then, with the same precision she used for everything: "I want to act."
He blinked.
"You want to join the most chaotic industry in the world?" he asked. "Filled with lies, shallow praise, and unstable pay?"
"I watched several series. The acting is inefficient. I can optimize it."
Shen Rui stared at her.
She stared back.
"You want to act because you think you can do it better?"
"Yes."
He exhaled, lips twitching. "Of course you do."
"You said I could do what I want."
"I meant it."
She blinked. "Then I want to try."
"Then I'll make it happen."
He didn't even pause.
No hesitation.
No questioning her decision.
Just support. Like it was instinctive.
Like backing her was his default setting.
And Lin Xie—cold, emotionless Lin Xie—didn't say anything. But her fingers stilled on the page. Just for a moment.
A second too long.
Shen Rui didn't miss it.
He didn't mention it either.
Instead, he reached for her fruit, speared a slice of melon, and held it near her mouth.
"Eat," he said. "Or I'll cancel the entire industry."
She blinked. "That's inefficient."
"Exactly," he said. "So eat."
She obeyed.
The capital didn't know what stunned them more: Shen Rui's ruthlessness…
…or the quiet, unwavering way he chose to spoil the coldest girl in the city like she was his last soft spot.
And she was.
---
By the time the Shen family heard the rumors, it was already too late for gossip to catch up. The damage had been done. Partnership severed. The Zhang family bleeding influence. And the youngest CEO of Shen Conglomerate—the heir who rarely bothered with drama—had done it all over a girl.
But not just any girl.
Lin Xie.
They had to sit down for that one.
In the Shen family main residence, the news was met with several simultaneous reactions.
Madam Shen lowered her jade tea cup. "Wait. He did what?"
Shen Yan, sprawled on the velvet divan with a face mask halfway peeled off, shouted, "HE BROKE OFF A MULTI-MILLION DOLLAR PARTNERSHIP BECAUSE SOMEONE WAS RUDE TO HER?!"
Mr. Shen, unbothered as always, turned a page of his newspaper. "She was insulted. It's a reasonable reaction."
"A reasonable—Father, do you know how many women have tried to cling to Rui since he was fifteen?" Shen Yan squawked. "He never even blinked at them. But now one girl gets insulted and he's cutting off half of east-sector's robotic manufacturing?"
"He also pulled out the smart city contract," Madam Shen added thoughtfully.
"What?!"
"I read it this morning. The Zhang Group's subsidiary was leading it. He withdrew Ruix Corp and replaced it with one of our in-house teams."
"Our in-house team?" Shen Yan gaped. "You mean the experimental one with the new AI interface?"
"Mm."
"He handed over a major city project to an untested internal team… because someone hurt his girlfriend's feelings?!"
Madam Shen nodded. "It's romantic."
Mr. Shen sipped his tea.
Shen Yan flopped back, dramatically. "I need to sit down."
"You're already sitting."
"I need to sit down emotionally."
There was a long pause.
Then Madam Shen exhaled slowly, a faint, approving smile curving her lips.
"He really does like her."
"Like her?" Shen Yan muttered, eyes wide. "He's about three business assassinations short of proposing."
Mr. Shen finally set his paper down and looked at his daughter. "Would that be a problem?"
"Absolutely not," Shen Yan muttered. "It'd be a national blessing. I already told her I'd give her my entire wardrobe."
"She's brilliant," Madam Shen said. "Ruthless. Quiet. Calculated. Just like Rui."
"But tiny. Like a bird. A terrifying bird who can outthink quantum processors."
Mr. Shen added mildly, "She reminds me of your grandmother."
Shen Yan choked on her orange juice.
There was a moment of silence as they all considered that. It… tracked. Grandmother Shen had once negotiated a weapons treaty with only four words and a paper fan.
"I love her," Madam Shen said for the third time that week.
"She's scary. I also love her," Shen Yan agreed.
"I'd love her more if she'd let me take her to Paris," Madam Shen mused. "She refuses to leave Rui's side."
"She's basically glued to him," Shen Yan said. "And he acts like it's normal. If any of us tried to text him three times in a row, we'd get blocked."
"She doesn't even text. She just… appears."
"Like a very beautiful ghost. A ghost with every academic medal known to man."
Madam Shen smiled fondly. "I want to braid her hair."
Mr. Shen, raising a brow: "She'd weaponize it."
"I hope she does," Madam Shen said proudly.
By the end of the conversation, one thing was clear in the Shen household:
Lin Xie wasn't just accepted.
She was claimed.
And any heiress, ex-princess, or disgruntled socialite who tried to mess with her again would soon find themselves quietly removed from the chessboard.
Because Shen Rui had chosen her.
And the entire Shen family?
They were playing on her side.