Yu Zenan moved closer to his brother, noticing his intense focus on the television news. On screen, President Bai Yeqing stood flawlessly before the public, projecting absolute control, every detail meticulously managed.
Yu Zeyao frowned. That bastard Bai Yeqing has nine lives.
"Brother! Earth to Yu!" Zenan waved a hand in front of his face. "You still haven't told me what's so special about Xia Xingchen that demands my personal charm offensive."
"Not 'offensive', Zenaan. Marriage," Yu Zeyao corrected, clicking off the TV with the remote, his tone deadly serious.
Zenan's eyebrow shot up. "Hardly some socialite princess. Her father's just a mayor. You'd actually have me marry her?"
"Do you know who her mother is?"
"Mother? You mean that Li-something... skimmed the file you gave me."
"That's her stepmother." Yu Zeyao leaned forward. "Eight years ago, Madame Lanting tasked me with finding her daughter here in S Nation. It took eight years, but I finally have a solid lead."
Zenan stared, stunned. "You mean... Xia Xingchen is Madame Lanting's daughter?"
"Precisely."
Madame Lanting. A name that resonated far beyond S Nation. An international powerhouse currently at the UN, who held the military and political reins of multiple nations.
"Well, damn," Zenan breathed, a slow grin spreading. "Didn't see that twist coming. She doesn't know?"
"Lost to her family. Naturally clueless. And I haven't informed Madame Lanting yet."
"Why the hell not?"
"Secure her first. Make her a Yu. Once that lineage goes public?" Yu Zeyao gave a sharp, humorless bark. "Every eligible man in the hemisphere becomes competition, Bai Yeqing included."
Zenan scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "Pfft. Brother dear, Vice President Yu, your faith in me is underwhelming. Let the whole damn country chase her, Bai Yeqing leading the pack. My charm? Still takes the gold. Easy."
"Spare me the bravado. Go play elsewhere. I have actual work."
"Fine, fine. But don't forget my request!" Zenan pointed a finger emphatically. "Make it happen!"
The thought of the little woman's face lighting up when her job magically reappeared sent a warm buzz through him. That ten-day date couldn't come fast enough. He was practically counting down the hours.
...
At the Foreign Ministry
The personnel director stared, dumbfounded, at the two distinct call logs on his monitor. Twocalls. Both major. Both concerning the same person: Xia Xingchen.
The first: Presidential Office. Grant her a re-examination opportunity.
The second: Vice Presidential Office. Place her directly into the Ministry. Skip the exam entirely.
He scrambled for Xingchen's file, scanning it like a holy text. What kind of mythical creature was this woman? To command such attention from the two most powerful men in the nation? To possess this... unimaginable leverage?
He flipped through the sparse pages – photos, basic bio. Pretty, yes. Exceptionally so. But beyond that... nothing. Nothing explained this level of pull.
...
Meanwhile, Presidential Residence
Xingchen had just finished unpacking when her phone rang. Seeing the Foreign Ministry number, her pulse jumped.
"Y-you're saying... I can retake the exam?" she stammered, disbelief coloring her voice.
"Indeed, Miss Xia," the voice on the other end was unnervingly polite. "Though, if you prefer direct placement, that is also... available."
Available? The implication slammed into her. Exam or no exam, the outcome was predetermined: Pass. Who would dare defy both the President and the Vice President?
"No," she said quickly, firmly. "I wish to take the exam. But... may I ask? Last time, my absence disqualified me. Why the change?"
"That," the voice tightened slightly, "is above our clearance. We merely follow directives."
Directives. Xingchen's breath hitched. From him? Did Bai Yeqing actually pick up the phone for this?
And if he did... was it just repayment? A cold transaction to settle accounts?
The memory of his icy dismissal echoed with a fresh hollowness in her chest. She couldn't untangle the knot of feelings tightening there.
...
That Night
After tucking Dabai into his room in the children's wing, Xingchen showered and settled into bed with study materials. The exam was tomorrow. He'd given her this chance back; she wouldn't waste it. She wouldn't let him think less of her.
But...
Her gaze drifted to the clock. 9:17 PM. No sign of him returning.
Two agonizing hours she'd spent glued to the live broadcast earlier, watching him stand, unmoving, fielding questions. Every minute etched in tension, her heart pounding against her ribs. Only when the cameras cut did relief flood her, leaving her shaky.
Would he even come back tonight?
The sudden sweep of blinding headlights across her window answered the question. She was out of bed instantly, bare feet silent on the marble as she rushed to the window. His convoy snaked through the gates.
Impulse propelled her out the door and down the grand staircase. She paused halfway as the main doors opened below. He entered, flanked by Leng Fei and others.
Coincidence, or some strange pull? His head lifted. His eyes locked precisely onto hers, catching the naked worry she hadn't had time to mask.
"Miss Xia! Still awake?" Leng Fei greeted, breaking the sudden intensity.
She flushed, belatedly aware of her bare feet on the cool stone. Exposed. Foolish. Would he think her ridiculous? A burden?
His gaze remained fixed, unsettling her. She forced a smile towards Leng Fei. "Just reading. Came down for water." The lie felt brittle. "Didn't expect you back so soon."
"Water is a servant's task." The cool voice cut through the hall. Bai Yeqing. He didn't look at her. "Bring Miss Xia water upstairs. Immediately."
"Yes, Mr. President!" A maid scurried towards the kitchen.
Trapped. No reason to linger. "Th-thank you," she murmured, retreating up the stairs, her steps now heavy and slow.
Leng Fei and the entourage departed swiftly. Finally alone, Bai Yeqing dismissed the remaining staff. Only then, in the echoing silence of the entrance hall, did the iron control fracture. He sank into a chair, the facade of the invincible leader crumbling to reveal the exhausted, pain-etched man beneath.