Shen Rui pushed open the door to the penthouse suite he'd reserved for her at the highest floor of the hotel. The lighting was soft, gold-dimmed. The city below stretched wide and glowing beyond the windows, but Lin Xie's gaze wasn't on the view.
It was on him.
She stepped inside wordlessly. Still silent. Still precise. But she didn't go to her room. She stood near the entrance and simply watched as Shen Rui loosened his coat, placed it on the back of the chair, and made a short call to room service.
"Dinner. Everything she usually eats. Add dessert. Something warm," he said calmly, before hanging up.
Then he turned to face her.
She didn't say anything. Didn't ask questions. Her eyes traced over him from head to toe, slow and unwavering—not assessing for threats, like before. But... recording. Memorizing. Almost dissecting. Her pupils didn't dilate. Her breathing didn't change. But the silence around her wasn't blank anymore—it was full.
Shen Rui leaned against the edge of the marble kitchen counter, arms folded loosely across his chest. "Still not talking?"
She tilted her head slightly, but didn't respond.
"That's fine." His voice softened. "I've learned to translate your silences."
She blinked once.
He smiled. "That one means you're still deciding whether to stay."
Nothing from her. But she didn't move toward the door either.
Shen Rui's tone dropped, more serious now. "I'm going to look into everything, Lin Xie. Every person who knew Wen Yifan. Every contact. Every handler. I want to know who's behind him, who gave him the nerve to even try. And when I do…"
His voice turned colder, almost absent of breath. "They'll disappear. Quietly."
Lin Xie didn't flinch. Her fingers were folded loosely in front of her, but he could tell she was listening—closer than ever.
"You don't have to worry," he added, stepping forward until he was directly in front of her. "Unless you're worried about me falling madly in love with you now that I know you can break bones without flinching."
She looked up at him. Expressionless.
"Is that a threat or a warning?" she asked calmly.
"Neither." He leaned down, brushing a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "That's a confession."
The knock on the door broke the moment.
Room service wheeled in the food quietly and quickly—bowls of jasmine rice, grilled vegetables, warm soup, steamed buns, a side of fresh fruit. They set the dishes down with a bow and vanished within seconds.
Lin Xie sat at the table wordlessly and picked up the spoon, beginning to eat with machine-like precision. But her eyes lifted now and then, watching him as he took off his tie and rolled up his sleeves, pouring tea like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"You didn't even blink when you saw me tonight," she said suddenly.
"I've seen you destroy business sharks with three words," Shen Rui replied casually, handing her a cup. "A few cracked ribs and shattered dignity don't scare me."
He pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. "If anything, I was a little turned on."
She blinked.
"See? That expression. That's my reward," he grinned. "Your brain stuttering."
"It is not stuttering. I am processing the likelihood of you being serious."
"Oh, I'm very serious."
She looked at the cup of tea, then at him again.
"I do not understand you," she said quietly.
"You don't have to," he said, voice gentler now. "Just let me stay beside you. That's enough."
She went quiet again.
But this time, she didn't look away.
And didn't stop observing him—not just for data, or strategy.
But because—for reasons she still couldn't compute—his presence didn't require calculation.
---
The tea had gone lukewarm between them, untouched. Lin Xie was still seated at the table, watching Shen Rui with a gaze that looked blank to anyone else—but he had come to understand her silences. She wasn't shutting down.
She was observing him.
Like a system logging data it wasn't built to process.
Shen Rui stood, walked toward the small briefcase he'd left by the corner of the room earlier, and brought it to the table. He didn't open it immediately. Instead, he looked at her—eyes steady, voice calm.
"I'm ending the act," he said.
Lin Xie's eyes followed the movement of his hands, but her expression didn't change.
"No more pretending," Shen Rui continued. "No more fake label. You won't be my 'scripted girlfriend.' You'll just be mine."
She blinked once.
"That's not a request," he said gently. "It's a declaration."
Then he opened the briefcase.
Inside was a box. Black velvet. Sleek.
He opened it slowly—revealing a ring.
Not glittery. Not traditional. It was shaped like a thin crown of metal—dark silver, inlaid with an uncut obsidian stone that pulsed faintly under the light. Custom-designed. The outer band had sharp, engraved lines—matching the ring he wore hidden beneath the inside cuff of his right wrist. The one he never showed in public. The one that declared him ruler in a kingdom no one outside the underground world dared to name.
The one only a King wore.
This was its pair.
The ring for his queen.
He slid it across the table toward her, slow and deliberate.
"I made this the night you kissed me," he said. "The first time. When you didn't ask. Didn't warn me. Just… acted."
She looked down at the ring. Didn't reach for it. Her fingers twitched slightly near the edge of the table.
"It's not just for display," he said. "It's a symbol. Of belonging. And protection."
Still, she said nothing.
Then he reached into the briefcase again.
This time, he brought out a necklace.
It wasn't flashy either. The chain was thin, nearly invisible against the skin. At the center was a single pendant—an abstract design, soft curves wrapping around a black diamond the size of a raindrop. It was elegant. Understated. But if you knew, you knew.
It was an heirloom.
Worn only by the matriarch of the Shen family. Handed down through generations. Never forged. Never copied.
He had removed it from the vault himself.
"This," he said, "means you're the one."
Still, no explanation. No theatrics. Just truth, laid out like a quiet fact in the air.
Lin Xie stared at both items on the table.
Then—abruptly—she stood.
Walked around the table.
And launched herself at him.
Again, without warning.
Her hands curled in the collar of his shirt and she pressed her lips to his like she was claiming oxygen. No hesitations. No prelude. Just mouth crashing into his—fast and rough and without hesitation.
He caught her easily, lips responding instantly, fiercely.
He deepened the kiss, hands anchoring at her hips. She didn't pull back. Her body pressed against his as if testing resistance. But he didn't resist. He moved with her, kissing her back with something possessive and hungry—like he'd been waiting for this moment.
She shifted slightly—grinding against him, lips parting. His breath caught. He responded with a quiet groan, one hand sliding up to cup the back of her head, the other steady on her waist.
He pulled away just enough to look down at her.
Her eyes were still blank. Still unreadable.
But her breath was fast now.
"You don't feel anything," he murmured, "but you do this to me."
She tilted her head faintly. "You are warm."
"Is that your way of saying you like me?"
"I have not classified it yet."
He smiled, kissed her forehead, then slid the ring onto her finger himself. She didn't stop him.
Then he moved behind her and draped the necklace gently around her neck. Fastened the clasp. His fingers grazed her skin.
"You're mine," he whispered into her ear. "Whether or not you compute it. You belong to me now."
She turned to face him, lips brushing his again—not soft this time. Curious. Almost greedy.
He kissed her back again. Slow this time. Deep.
And when they pulled apart, the ring gleamed on her hand.
The necklace rested just above her collarbone.
She looked at them both.
Then at him.
And said nothing.
But she didn't let go.
And he didn't step back.
Outside the city still glowed.
But inside the room, something had already been claimed.
----
Lin Xie was still kissing him.
Or, more precisely—examining him with her mouth.
Shen Rui didn't mind.
At first.
Her lips moved with practiced chaos, like she was following some internal algorithm of "kiss intensity" that made no logical sense and yet drove him absolutely insane. She kissed him with clinical aggression—like passion had a checklist and she was determined to tick every box.
Then her body shifted.
Just slightly.
Just enough that she pressed flush against him.
She paused.
And blinked.
Then blinked again.
Her head tilted.
Her lower body moved slightly—unintentionally grazing something... firm.
She stilled.
Her lips parted from his, her breath calm, her eyes scanning downward like a machine running a scan of an unknown surface.
"What is that?" she asked quietly.
Shen Rui's breath caught. "Don't—don't look at it like it's a code error—"
She stepped back half an inch and stared down between them. Not with fear. Not embarrassment.
Curiosity.
She reached out.
His entire body flinched.
"Lin Xie—wait—wait, wait—" he said quickly, trying to backpedal.
Too late.
Her fingers prodded him.
Like she was testing a piece of unfamiliar tech.
He nearly choked. "Holy—god, you can't just poke it—!"
She tilted her head further, eyes narrowing. "Is it supposed to swell like this?"
"Don't say it like that—"
"It's expanding rapidly. Did I do something to trigger it?"
Shen Rui slammed his palm over his face.
She gently touched the area again, then frowned. "It's warm. Hard .Slight vibration."
He groaned. Loudly.
"Lin Xie, stop observing it like it's a malfunctioning device, you're going to kill me—"
She blinked again. "Is this a sign of medical distress?"
"Absolutely not," he croaked. "It's a sign of a very normal reaction. One you caused."
Her brows furrowed deeper. "It is… a physical reaction to proximity and stimulation?"
He nodded weakly, clutching the edge of the chair like his life depended on it. "Yes. That's the most clinical way you could've said it, and yes. Now can you please stop touching it—"
"But I haven't finished the examination."
"You're going to kill me."
She poked him again.
He yelped.
"Okay, okay, Lin Xie—breathe. Put your hands back in the 'safe' zone."
She blinked. "Where is the safe zone?"
"Anywhere above my belt."
She withdrew her hand slowly, reluctantly, and looked up at him again.
He was flushed. Sweating. Eyes wide.
She studied him for a moment longer.
Then calmly said, "Interesting biological design."
"Oh my god," he muttered, dragging both hands down his face. "You're going to be the death of me."
"Unlikely. I have no intent to cause fatal injury. But this part is quite… fragile?"
"Yes. Extremely. Do not punch it. Ever."
She nodded solemnly, committing it to memory.
He leaned back on the couch, still recovering.
She sat beside him, still very calm. "Do you require recalibration?"
"I need ice water," he muttered. "And holy protection."
She reached out and tucked her hand in his again.
His pulse jumped.
Her expression was unreadable.
But she looked back down at the evidence of his arousal and murmured one last thing:
"…It's still growing."
He screamed into a pillow.