The capital had always buzzed with a certain frequency—like every building, every blinking LED screen, every black car knew its role in the grand performance of power and pretense.
Lin Xie stepped out of the elevator beside him, her black boots silent on polished floors. Her grip on her bag was loose, her expression as unreadable as ever. But her eyes, sharp and ever-watching, were already scanning the environment like she was looking for thermal signatures.
Shen Rui adjusted his cuffs.
Their car was waiting—not the sleek official one from his usual fleet, but a low-key, matte-gray SUV with zero identifying markers.
He liked being watched when it was useful.
And invisible when it mattered.
The driver nodded but didn't speak as they slid into the backseat. The windows were tinted, the inside temperature already adjusted. Classical music played quietly—until Lin Xie tapped the screen and changed it to silence.
"You hate Vivaldi?" Shen Rui asked.
"I hate distractions."
He leaned his head back, eyes closed. "You're the only distraction I allow."
She blinked at him.
Then looked out the window.
"Where first?" the driver asked.
Shen Rui didn't answer right away. Then: "Hotel. Then she wants to roam."
"I never said I wanted," Lin Xie corrected.
"You implied it when you marked every shop and tech building within a five-kilometer radius."
"I was assessing threats."
"And yet," Shen Rui said, opening his eyes, "you memorized the dessert café menu before the defense firm's layout."
Silence.
She blinked once. Then looked out the window again.
He smirked.
The SUV moved through the capital's heart like a knife through silk. People were already whispering. Photos were being taken from balconies. Rumors had moved ahead of them.
Shen Rui's return was always noticed.
So was Lin Xie's presence beside him.
The difference now? They weren't pretending anymore.
At a red light, a biker peered through the windshield. Shen Rui turned his head slightly, eyes blank and cold. The biker looked away instantly and drove off before the light even turned green.
Lin Xie stared at him. "That glare has a 100% intimidation rate."
"I use it for meetings, board takeovers, and annoying paparazzi."
"And me?"
"You get the upgraded version."
"Upgraded?"
He turned toward her slightly. "My full attention."
Lin Xie didn't respond.
But she didn't look away either.
When they arrived at the hotel, the staff had already cleared the lobby. No cameras. No reporters. Just a man at the desk who handed Shen Rui the key card with both hands and no eye contact.
Their suite was on the top floor. Soundproofed. Monitored only by Lin Xie's own system now, not the hotel's.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Lin Xie walked the perimeter of the room, checking entry points, electrical ports, and wall integrity.
"You already scanned this hotel before we arrived," Shen Rui said, watching her from the couch.
"Things change."
"You don't trust my arrangements?"
"I don't trust patterns."
Shen Rui leaned back. "You're not human sometimes."
She turned.
"Neither are you," she said simply.
Then—after a pause—walked over to him, sat down cross-legged on the carpet, and tilted her head.
"What?"
"You haven't asked me what I want to do now."
"Because you haven't decided yet."
"I want to go to that café."
"Dessert café?"
"Yes."
Shen Rui stood up.
"No weapons," he said.
"I wasn't going to bring weapons."
He raised an eyebrow.
She tilted her head. "Fine. One."
"No."
She stared. Then sighed. Then pulled a small blade out of her sleeve and placed it on the table like a sulking child putting down a forbidden toy.
Shen Rui held out his hand. "Let's go."
She took it without hesitation.
As they walked out, every camera in the city blinked and tried to zoom in.
But none of them could see the full picture yet.
––—
Zhang Min had always prided herself on control.
Control over her image. Control over her rivals. Control over every room she walked into. But now?
Now she was sitting in her apartment—emptier than usual—glaring at her cracked phone screen like it had personally betrayed her.
The headlines were still trending.
"Heiress Zhang Min's family empire crumbles overnight—What really happened?"
"Cold-blooded corporate takeover leaves AI Robotics gutted."
"Zhang Min absent from public events for the 12th straight day."
She gritted her teeth and slammed the phone face-down.
None of them knew the truth. Not the press. Not the public. Not even the fake friends who used to orbit her like planets around the sun. But she knew.
It was Shen Rui.
He'd done this to her.
Not just her business. Not just her family's billions. He'd taken her spotlight. Her power. And worst of all?
Her position as the only woman who mattered.
Now, all the capital whispered about Lin Xie.
The mysterious girl who appeared beside him like smoke. The one who wasn't even from any known circle. No background. No legacy.
And yet Shen Rui looked at her like she was the center of gravity.
Zhang Min couldn't stand it.
She stood abruptly, pacing the length of her apartment. The curtains were drawn shut. The lights off. A cold mug of untouched coffee sat on the table.
She pulled out a worn notebook—one she used for 'special ideas'—and scribbled something quickly.
> "If I can't destroy Lin Xie directly… I'll make everyone doubt her."
Smear campaign? Already failed once.
Corporate sabotage? Shen Rui would shield her.
Social scandal? Too slippery.
But public chaos?
Maybe. Just maybe.
Zhang Min picked up her burner phone. One of the few she hadn't smashed in rage. She dialed a number she hadn't used since university—a gossip blogger she once tutored in exchange for dirt.
"I want a favor," she said coldly. "Big payout."
The voice on the other end cackled. "You? Still alive? What's the scoop?"
Zhang Min narrowed her eyes.
"I want you to dig up everything you can about Shen Rui's new girl. And if there's nothing scandalous—make it up."
There was a pause. "You sure? He's scary."
"You'll be scarier if you don't deliver."
She hung up.
The plan was stupid. Risky. Built on desperation.
But Zhang Min had nothing left to lose.
And when a woman like her had nothing left to lose… she was the most dangerous kind.
-----
The city lights shimmered off the sleek windows of the high-rise as Shen Rui guided Lin Xie through the crowd with a casual arm around her waist. They weren't hiding. They never were. He didn't care who saw them. If anything, he wanted the entire capital to know who she belonged to.
Not that Lin Xie ever acknowledged being "owned" in any capacity.
Still, she stayed close. Always within reach. Always watching him like she was collecting data from his smallest breath to the way his pinky twitched when bored.
"Your oxygen intake increased," she said calmly as they passed a pastry stall.
"I saw a croissant," he replied.
"I thought you disliked gluten."
"I dislike bad gluten."
She tilted her head, mildly offended by the pastry's audacity to exist.
They were supposed to be "laying low" after returning from the out-of-town trip, but laying low apparently meant going on a spontaneous dessert hunt through the capital's elite food street while dressed like two magazine models who'd wandered out of a billionaire's fantasy.
"Do you want the chocolate one or the espresso tart?" he asked.
"I do not feel hunger."
He stared at her.
She blinked.
"I will take both," she added.
They sat outside a boutique café ten minutes later—her with a perfectly cut espresso tart, him with a cappuccino and three forks for some reason. She didn't use any of them. Just dissected the tart with the elegance of an AI-trained surgeon.
A pair of young women across from them nearly passed out from the sight.
"That's him," one whispered, not quietly enough. "Shen Rui. With her. That weirdly beautiful girl."
"I heard she's some kind of secret weapon. Maybe a spy."
"No, no, I read she might be genetically modified."
Shen Rui raised an eyebrow.
Lin Xie leaned toward him. "Should I neutralize them?"
"Please don't," he murmured. "The gossip mill is keeping PR on their toes."
They continued their not-date down the boulevard, pausing whenever Lin Xie saw something suspicious—like a man with a strange hat or a dog with particularly intelligent eyes.
"That Pomeranian knows too much," she whispered.
"It's licking its own foot."
"Exactly."
A few paparazzi tried to snap photos from a parked car.
Shen Rui looked at them.
The engine shut off.
The car reversed and fled.
They passed a luxury boutique where a familiar face was trying on sunglasses inside—Lian Mei. She noticed them, narrowed her eyes, and immediately turned to the employee next to her.
"I want that one," she said, pointing at a pair Lin Xie had just glanced at through the window.
From the café behind them, Yue Qing spotted Shen Rui through her oversized sunglasses and choked on her mojito.
"That's him!"
"He looks like a fever dream," Xu Qian said, stirring her drink aggressively. "Why does he glow in public?"
"More importantly," Han Zhi muttered, "why is she always attached to his side like she's the firmware update he never asked for but actually needed?"
"He used to glance at me once every two years," Wen Yuyan mumbled. "That meant something." (DELUSIONAL)
"Sure," Yue Qing said flatly. "It meant his eyeballs worked."
The five fake-friends sat in the corner booth of the posh rooftop bar, pretending not to care while refreshing their gossip apps every five minutes.
Meanwhile, Shen Rui paid for a street photo of them taken by a shy vendor—and handed it to Lin Xie.
"Evidence," he said simply.
She blinked at the photo.
"I look average."
He snorted. "You look like you ruined five family empires for fun."
She stared at it for five seconds longer.
"I will keep this," she said.
And slipped it carefully into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
Shen Rui said nothing. But the way he smiled—tiny, sharp, and rare—was enough to spark another round of online rumors without them even opening their mouths.
All around them, the capital buzzed with speculation and chaos.
And right at the center of it, they walked like royalty who'd never read the rulebook.
Not because they didn't care.
Because they'd already rewritten it.