The sky was still bruised with the last traces of night when Lin Yuyan awoke.
She lay on the couch in Zhao Luchen's penthouse, curled beneath a cashmere throw. She hadn't meant to fall asleep there—but after the gala, the rooftop, the kiss—they'd talked late into the night, tangled in warmth and unsaid fears, too tired to untangle them fully.
Her eyes drifted toward the window. The city below was beginning to stir. Neon signs fading into daylight, roads humming with motion. Another day. But not just any day.
Today, something had changed between them.
She sat up, brushing hair from her eyes.
In the kitchen, Luchen stood barefoot in dark slacks and a fitted black sweater, sleeves pushed up. He was pouring two mugs of coffee, jaw tense but quiet.
He didn't notice her watching at first.
It gave her time to memorize him.
Not the CEO. Not the man with walls and wariness.
Just… Luchen. The man who'd kissed her like she was the only thing that could anchor him.
When he turned, his eyes softened.
"You're up."
She nodded, voice still sleepy. "You didn't sleep?"
"A little. You were snoring."
Her mouth fell open. "I don't snore!"
He smirked, handing her the mug. "No, you murmur. You talk in your sleep."
She blinked. "What did I say?"
"You said…" He took a sip. "Don't leave."
Her heart clenched.
"Maybe I meant it," she said quietly.
He met her gaze, and something fragile passed between them.
But just as he opened his mouth to answer—his phone buzzed.
Once.
Twice.
Then again.
His shoulders stiffened.
"What is it?" she asked.
He didn't answer immediately. Just turned the screen toward her.
A new email. No sender. No subject. Just an attachment.
VIDEO FILE: CONTRACT_ROOM.MP4
Yuyan's blood ran cold.
He opened it.
The video played on mute, but they didn't need sound.
There they were—Yuyan and Luchen—standing in the study days before the wedding. She was crying. He was handing her something.
A document.
She remembered it too clearly.
The marriage contract. The one she signed when she thought she was marrying Zhao Lemin.
But the way it played now… the camera angle, the way Luchen touched her hand before she signed—it made it look like he had planned it all.
Like he had tricked her.
Like the whole wedding had been a calculated trap.
"No…" she whispered. "That's not what happened. You were trying to explain. I didn't understand—"
"I know," Luchen said, jaw taut. "But that's not how it looks."
She stared at the screen.
The sender had made sure of that.
"Someone wants to destroy us," she said.
"Someone wants to rewrite the story," Luchen said darkly.
Her voice dropped. "Lemin?"
He didn't answer.
She didn't need him to.
**
Later that morning, the video hit the media.
Anonymous leaks. Viral headlines.
"Zhao Luchen Tricked His Brother's Bride?"
"Secret Contract Reveals Pre-Wedding Manipulation!"
"Was Lin Yuyan Ever the Intended Bride?"
The internet was a wildfire.
In just hours, her name was trending again.
Scandal. Lies. Betrayal.
She locked herself in Luchen's study, the same one from the video, and stared at the desk where she had signed her name.
She felt sick.
The past was hunting her.
A soft knock.
She didn't answer.
He opened the door anyway.
"Say something," he said gently.
She turned. Her eyes were glassy. "They think I was a pawn."
"They're wrong."
"But were they?"
His breath caught.
"You told me the truth after the fact. But that video… it makes it look like you were always in control. Like you were waiting for Lemin to disappear."
"I wasn't," he said, stepping forward. "You know I wasn't."
"I want to believe you."
He stopped a foot away. "But?"
"But I remember how confused I was. That day. That room. I didn't know who I was marrying—until it was too late."
Silence stretched.
He closed the distance between them.
"I never meant to hurt you, Yuyan. I didn't want to lie. I just… I didn't want to lose you."
Her breath hitched. "But we did this backwards, Luchen. We started with a lie. Then the kiss. Then the truth. Now this…"
He gently took her hand. "Then let's rewrite it. Together."
She stared at their hands.
"I need time."
He nodded. "I'll wait."
Her voice cracked. "Even if Lemin comes back?"
His answer was immediate. "Especially then."
**
That night, far away, Zhao Lemin watched the chaos unfold from a private lounge.
The news scrolled across the bottom of a silent television. Yuyan's face. Luchen's. The contract footage. The storm.
He poured himself a drink, swirling the liquid lazily.
"She'll come looking for answers now," he said to no one.
Then he smiled, bitter and broken.
"She deserves them."
But even he didn't know what he'd say when she arrived.
Not yet.
**