The morning sun peeked over the horizon, casting golden hues through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Su Nian's room. She blinked awake to the gentle chirping of birds and the faint scent of jasmine drifting in from the garden. For a moment, she forgot where she was.
Then she sat up—and remembered everything.
The marriage. The mansion. Lu Cheng.
Her heart sank and fluttered at once.
After a quick shower, she slipped into the modest uniform prepared by Aunt Lin—white blouse, navy skirt, soft cardigan. She had orientation at Yulan Academy of Design today. The first step toward her dream. But as she adjusted her collar in the mirror, a knock at the door startled her.
It wasn't Aunt Lin.
Lu Cheng stood at the doorway, clean-cut in a tailored gray suit, dark tie knotted perfectly.
"I'll take you to school," he said flatly.
She blinked. "You don't have to. I can—"
"My driver is already out front. Come."
In the car.
The ride was silent for several minutes. Then, without looking at her, Lu Cheng spoke.
"There are three rules to this marriage."
Su Nian turned to him, surprised.
He continued, voice cold and matter-of-fact:
"Rule One: Don't speak to the media. Our marriage must remain private. No one must know unless I say otherwise."
She nodded slowly.
"Rule Two: In public, when we're together, act like my wife. Hold my arm. Smile. No matter the event, your job is to stand by me."
That one stung a little. Not because of the command—but because it sounded like she was just an accessory.
She looked down, clutching the fabric of her skirt.
"And Rule three," he said, glancing at her with a hard gaze, "don't fall in love with me."
She froze. Her mouth parted slightly, but no sound came.
Was it arrogance? Cruelty? Or… protection? She couldn't understand.
The rest of the drive was silent. But her thoughts were screaming.
Yulan Academy.
The gates of Yulan Academy looked like the entrance to a palace—arched stone, ivy-covered walls, and a wide lawn where students gathered with portfolios and hopeful eyes.
As the car pulled up, Su Nian reached for the handle, but Lu Cheng's voice stopped her.
"I'll have someone pick you up at five."
She turned to him, forcing a smile. "I can take the bus."
His brows furrowed slightly. "Don't argue."
The look in his eyes made her chest tighten—not because it was harsh, but because it was… worried?
"Alright," she said softly. "Thank you."
She got out, clutching her bag tightly, trying not to feel the weight of his gaze on her back as she walked away.
Inside the academy.
"Are you Su Nian?" a friendly voice called out.
She turned to see a bright-eyed girl with glasses and curly hair jogging over. "I'm Xiaoyu! I saw your name on the scholarship list—we're both in the Advanced Fashion Program."
Su Nian's nervous heart eased a little. "I'm Su Nian. It's nice to meet you."
"You're so pretty," Xiaoyu said bluntly. "You look like you belong in a runway show."
Su Nian laughed for the first time in days.
"You're too kind."
Classes hadn't started yet, but orientation was packed—introductions, campus tour, and a showcase of designs from senior students. As she walked through the halls lined with mannequins and fabric swatches, she felt the weight of her dream again.
This was what she had always wanted. Even if it came at a price.
Back at the mansion.
When Su Nian returned that evening, Lu Cheng wasn't home. Instead, a box was waiting for her on her desk.
A note was attached, written in sleek, elegant handwriting:
"For your first day. Wear it if we attend any events. – L.C."
Inside was a designer dress. Dark emerald, strapless, with delicate embroidery along the hem. The kind of dress that made fashion magazines weep.
She held it in stunned silence, fingers brushing the fabric. He didn't say a word. Just left it for her like it was nothing.
But to her, it wasn't nothing.
Two Days Later.
That Friday night, Lu Cheng arrived home earlier than usual.
"You're attending a charity banquet with me tonight," he said, removing his tie as he walked into the living room.
Su Nian, who had been sketching in her notebook on the couch, looked up.
"Tonight?"
"I need a partner. You're my wife. This is your role."
She stood slowly, unsure. "Will anyone recognize me?"
"No. We're introducing you as my assistant."
That stung. But she nodded.
He glanced at her—eyes flickering to the oversized sweater and messy bun.
"Wear the green dress," he added before disappearing into his room.
Evening – The Banquet.
When she walked down the staircase, the entire household stilled. Even the butler dropped his tablet for a second.
The green dress hugged her perfectly. Her long hair had been curled by Aunt Lin herself. Her makeup subtle, lips painted a rose-pink.
Lu Cheng looked up from his phone—
And froze.
His fingers clenched slightly around the glass. She was… breathtaking.
"You're staring," Su Nian said nervously as she reached the bottom step.
He turned away. "You clean up well."
She smirked slightly. "You could just say I look nice."
He didn't reply. But he offered his arm.
And when she took it, his fingers wrapped around hers a little tighter than necessary.
At the Banquet.
Flashbulbs, chatter, champagne and crystalline chandeliers.
Lu Cheng dominated the room with his presence. He spoke to investors, laughed at carefully measured intervals, and introduced her simply as "Miss Su, my assistant."
She played the role well—smiling, nodding, and listening.
Until one woman—tall, elegant, with crimson lipstick—sidled up next to them.
"Lu Cheng," she purred. "It's been a while. Who's the new decoration?"
Su Nian stiffened.
"This is Miss Su," Lu Cheng said curtly. "She's with me tonight."
The woman's eyes narrowed. "I didn't think assistants came with benefits."
Before Su Nian could reply, Lu Cheng placed his hand on her waist. Tight. Possessive.
"She's not available for your sarcasm, Wen Qian," he said coolly. "Try somewhere else."
Wen Qian's smile faltered. "I see. Interesting."
She walked away with her heels clacking against marble.
Su Nian turned to Lu Cheng, voice low.
"Who was that?"
"Someone who doesn't matter."
But the way his jaw clenched… told her otherwise.
Later that night, in the back seat of the car, Lu Cheng leaned his head back, eyes closed.
"Why did you defend me back there?" Su Nian asked quietly.
He opened one eye.
"I wasn't defending you," he said.
She frowned. "What do you call grabbing my waist in front of a hundred people?"
He leaned closer, voice low and warm like whiskey.
"Rule Four," he whispered, so close she could feel his breath, "Don't look that good in public again. It's distracting."
Her breath caught. And just like that, the temperature in the car soared.