Halfway through their wine, the dinner conversation took a more serious turn.
Sophie Quinn gently set down her cutlery and looked across the table, her expression carrying a blend of hope and vulnerability. "Mr. Wolfe… Rayden, the reason I asked you to meet tonight wasn't just for dinner. I have something important to discuss—and I hope I can count on your help."
Rayden Wolfe put down his own glass and leaned forward slightly, listening attentively. "Of course, Sophie. Tell me what's going on. If I can help, I will."
Sophie took a breath and began explaining her dilemma. "It's about our hospital. The equipment we've been using is becoming obsolete, and without upgrades, it'll start affecting patient care. We've made a plan to purchase a new batch of medical devices, but the total cost is around 120 million."
Rayden's brows lifted slightly, but he didn't interrupt.
She continued, "We don't have the liquidity to pay upfront. If we divert that much money, it'll disrupt daily operations and possibly force staff layoffs. That's why we're hoping to buy the equipment on credit. With your family's company being a supplier, I thought… maybe you could help us make it happen."
Her voice was earnest. "We promise to pay it back within six months—interest included, based on current bank rates."
Rayden nodded slowly, as if digesting the details. "Alright. Give me one moment."
He picked up his phone, typing swiftly as his fingers danced across the screen. Sophie watched him nervously, uncertain what to expect. She had prepared herself for resistance—or at least a list of conditions.
After a few minutes, Rayden locked his phone and looked up with a warm smile. "Done. I just spoke with the Director of Marketing at Wolfe Medical. They've approved the credit arrangement. Tomorrow, just bring your documentation to our headquarters, and we'll finalize the paperwork."
Sophie blinked in disbelief. "Wait… that's it?"
He chuckled. "Yes. Why wouldn't it be?"
"But… you didn't ask for collateral. No conditions? No personal favors?"
Rayden laughed again, genuinely amused. "Sophie, everyone runs into a tough spot now and then. If I can help someone get through it, I will. That's what business should be about—mutual support, not exploitation."
He lifted his wineglass toward her. "I believe in your ability to turn things around. When your hospital thrives again, just keep us in mind for future partnerships."
Tears almost welled up in her eyes, but she disguised it with a smile and raised her own glass. "Then let me offer a toast—to your kindness. Thank you, Rayden."
"Cheers," he replied, clinking glasses with her.
With the important matter resolved, Sophie finally relaxed. She swirled the red wine gently in her glass, watching it catch the dim lights, and glanced at Rayden with newfound appreciation.
"Rayden," she said thoughtfully, "you're not what I expected at all."
"Oh?" he smiled. "What did you expect?"
"Well…" She chuckled lightly. "According to the rumors, you're a spoiled rich kid. The kind who knows nothing beyond flashy cars and luxury clubs. Always chasing women, never working. People said you only knew how to burn through your parents' money."
Rayden raised a brow, pretending to be offended. "Ouch. Harsh."
"But here you are," Sophie continued, "offering sincere help without a single hidden agenda. You carry yourself like a gentleman, talk like a scholar, and think like a wise old man. It's… disorienting."
"So," she said playfully, "which version is the real you?"
Rayden's lips curled in a soft grin. "All of them."
She blinked. "All of them?"
He leaned back in his seat. "Yes. The reckless rich kid? That's me. The thoughtful gentleman? That's me too. I can be whoever I want to be, whenever I want—depending on the situation. I don't confine myself to a single role."
His voice grew a shade more serious. "Other people's opinions don't define me. I live for myself, not for their expectations."
Sophie's heart stirred. For a moment, she saw beyond the polished exterior. Behind those calm eyes was a man who had seen through the illusions of life—someone unshaken by labels, who embraced complexity rather than fleeing from it.
She lowered her gaze shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Then… if we're on first-name terms now, maybe don't call me 'Miss Quinn.' It sounds too formal."
"What should I call you, then?"
She grinned. "Sophie. Or 'Sister Sophie,' if you like. I'm older than you, after all."
Rayden laughed. "Then don't call me Mr. Wolfe either. Just Rayden—or 'Xiaofan' if you want something cuter."
Sophie's laughter chimed across the table like wind chimes in spring. "Alright, Xiaofan."
They both took out their phones and exchanged WeChat IDs.
Just like that, the relationship between them took a significant leap forward—from polite strangers to something resembling real friendship. Perhaps even more.
The rest of the dinner continued with smiles, shared stories, and quiet laughter.
However, as much as Rayden enjoyed the moment, he couldn't help but glance at the restaurant entrance now and then.
Where was Caleb Chen?
The story's original male protagonist, heir to the Ghost Valley Medical Sect, was supposed to show up right around now.
Rayden narrowed his eyes. "Caleb, you're late. What are you up to?"
At that very moment, across the street from the restaurant, a tall man in a cap and sunglasses was observing the scene through a tinted window.
His hands clenched into fists as he watched Sophie and Rayden smile at each other.
"You two are shameless," he muttered darkly. "Sophie, you're supposed to be my fiancée. And yet here you are, laughing with another man."
The man's name was Caleb Chen, the descendant of an ancient medical lineage known as the Ghost Doctors. From birth, he had been engaged to Sophie through an old family arrangement. Though they hadn't seen each other in years, the moment Caleb returned to the city and laid eyes on her, he considered her his rightful woman.
But then he saw her… smiling at that man.
It enraged him.
Even worse, he had tried confronting Rayden in a past life—and lost. Time and again. No matter what he did, Rayden was always ten steps ahead. Every plan, every confrontation ended in failure. The woman he claimed, the respect he sought, the victories he craved—Rayden took them all.
"I still don't get it," Caleb seethed. "He's supposed to be a useless heir—yet somehow, he always comes out on top."
But now, things were different.
Caleb had been reborn.
He had returned to the beginning of the story, just like Rayden—but this time, with all his memories of the future intact.
"This is my second chance," Caleb whispered to himself. "A true protagonist's blessing."
He clenched his jaw, staring hatefully at Rayden's silhouette through the window.
"I'll ruin you, Rayden Wolfe. You'll lose everything—your wealth, your power, your pride. I'll crush you and spit on your grave."
His eyes flicked back to Sophie.
"And as for Sophie… she belongs to me."
As Caleb brooded, his fingers slid into his coat pocket and emerged holding a thin, silver needle.
As the heir to the Ghost Valley Sect, his medical skills weren't just for healing. He also knew how to disable or kill using subtle acupuncture techniques.
"Doctors save lives… but we can also take them," he murmured.
With a smooth motion, he tucked the needle between his fingers and crossed the street.
From a distance, he looked like a slightly tipsy restaurant guest, staggering under the influence of fine wine.
But Rayden noticed him immediately.
"Ah… here comes the hero of fate."
He watched with mild curiosity as Caleb stumbled closer, step by step.
"The question is… what will my wish do to you now?"
Rayden's eyes glittered.
His lips curved into a smirk.
And in his mind, he whispered to the system, "System, I make a wish…"