"Yue Lusi, I'm glad you could make it," Li Xuanyin greeted warmly, his deep voice curling through the air like silk.
Lusi's heart gave an involuntary flutter. There was something in his gaze—an unspoken gravity—that made her pulse race. "Thank you for inviting us," she replied, her voice steady despite the nervous anticipation simmering beneath. She took in the surroundings, eyes trailing across the opulent dining room awash in golden hues and understated grandeur.
He gestured with effortless grace toward the dining area. "Please, make yourselves comfortable. Lunch will be served shortly."
As they moved toward the table, a young man—casually leaning back, thumb flicking across his phone—looked up and offered a charming smile. "I'm Li Feiyi," he said, rising slightly. "His nephew."
On paper, that's what the world believed. But the truth whispered differently—Li Feiyi was once an orphan, a one-year-old child whom Xuanyin had quietly adopted and protected as his own.
The dining table was a dream in candlelight. Crystal glasses shimmered like stars, and the gentle clink of porcelain echoed through the soft murmurs of conversation. There was warmth woven through every detail, despite the stately setting.
Li Xuanyin took the seat beside Lusi, his presence calm yet commanding. "I hope you'll enjoy the meal," he said, his voice touched with a quiet eagerness, eyes searching hers.
Yue Lusi smiled, feeling the buzz of something electric between them. "If your taste is anything like your taste in gardens," she teased lightly, "I'm sure it'll be unforgettable."
The first course arrived—an elegant interplay of flavors and textures. As they dined, Xuanyin shared tales of his travels and ventures, his voice animated, hands occasionally gesturing with restrained passion. More than once, he leaned over to gently feed Lusi a bite, his fingertips brushing hers—each touch a quiet confession.
Chuchu sat across the table, equally mesmerized by the atmosphere. But Lusi's world narrowed to the man beside her—his warmth, his nearness.
When the main course faded into laughter and wine, Xuanyin leaned close, his tone intimate and low. "There's something I want to show you after dinner," he murmured.
Lusi's breath caught. "What is it?"
A knowing smile played on his lips. "You'll see. Just trust me."
The final course passed in a blur of velvety textures and soft glances. At last, Xuanyin rose and extended his hand to her. "Shall we?"
Lusi took his hand. "Lead the way."
He guided her past marble halls and velvet-curtained windows, through manicured gardens now bathed in moonlight. They stopped before a secluded grove lit by soft fairy lights, where a hand-carved bench rested beneath a canopy of stars.
"This is my sanctuary," he said quietly. "Where I come to think… escape… breathe."
Lusi gazed around, awed by the gentle beauty. "It's magical," she whispered.
He turned to her, voice suddenly raw. "I wanted to share it with you. Because… you mean more to me than you know, Yue Lusi."
Her chest tightened, emotion rushing up like a tide. "Xuanyin…"
They sat in quiet reverie, the silence charged. Crickets sang, the wind danced through petals, and beneath it all, hearts beat faster.
Then she turned, searching his face. "Li Xuanyin… who are you, really?" she asked softly. "This life, this wealth… it's more than medicine, isn't it?"
He exhaled slowly, gaze fixed on the night sky. "Yes. I've hidden part of myself."
His eyes met hers, steady and bare. "I'm not just a doctor. I'm the president of Jinghua Dynamics."
Lusi's breath left her. "You're… the Li Xuanyin?"
"I am," he said, no pride in his voice—only vulnerability. "But I didn't want my title to become a barrier between us."
She looked into his soul. "You should've told me."
"I was afraid you'd see only the empire," he admitted. "Not the man."
Lusi touched his hand, voice tender. "I see you. And I care—for you, not your wealth."
His shoulders softened in relief. "No more secrets. From now on, you get all of me."
"And you have all of me," she replied.
Under the stars, their hands entwined, something unspoken was sealed.
Back in the villa, Li Feiyi glanced across the room, his gaze drawn to Chuchu. "How are you? Did your wound heal?" he asked gently.
She smiled, warmth blooming across her face. "Yes, I'm doing better. Thank you."
A pause. Then, "Can I add you on WeChat?"
"Yes," she answered softly, a blush rising to her cheeks.
To the world, Li Feiyi was an icon—global actor, singer, heartthrob. But to Chuchu, in this moment, he was just a boy standing before her, hopeful and sincere.
What she didn't know was that years ago, Li Feiyi had discovered her fanfiction. Cloaked under an alias, he had devoured her words—stories where she imagined him not as a star, but as someone worthy of deep, enduring love.
He had never forgotten the day she saved him—throwing herself between him and a mob of obsessive fans. That brave spark in her eyes had imprinted itself on his soul.
Now, he stood before her, no longer a dream from a screen.
"Chuchu," he said quietly, stepping closer, "I've read everything you've written about me. Your stories… meant more than you'll ever know."
Her eyes widened. "You read them?"
He nodded. "They gave me strength. They reminded me I was more than just a name."
Tears welled in her eyes. "I never thought you'd even notice."
"I did," he whispered, brushing his thumb across her knuckles. "And I've been waiting to thank you."
And so, beneath the glow of chandeliers and the hum of a fading evening, their story quietly began.
From that night on, Li Feiyi and Chuchu became inseparable.
His fame shadowed them—a constant pressure, a barrier between their stolen moments. Yet, in the cracks of secrecy, love bloomed. She understood him better than the world ever could, having loved the essence of him before knowing the man.
For every headline, they found solace in glances.
For every public mask, a private truth.
And though the world watched with bated breath, their love was a quiet rebellion—fragile, fierce, and undeniably real.