The top floor of Jinhai International was another world entirely. The floors were polished black stone, and the walls were matte grey, decorated with abstract art that cost more than Liu Xin's education. Everything screamed silence and power.
She was ushered into a waiting area outside a minimalist office framed by chrome and glass.
A woman in her mid-40s with sharp eyes and a bluetooth headset greeted her. "You're the planner?"
Liu nodded quickly.
"CEO Wu is expecting you. Speak when spoken to. Don't overshare. No perfume."
Before she could ask what perfume had to do with anything, the glass door slid open.
Inside sat Wu Jian, flipping through a digital file with robotic efficiency. He didn't look up.
"Miss Liu Xin," he said flatly. "Sit."
She did. Rigid posture, notebook clutched like a shield.
"You were chosen because of your university thesis on experiential marketing and your project portfolio. We are hosting our largest gala to date. You will plan it."
Wait—what?
He continued before she could protest. "You'll work under my direct supervision. Your ideas. My approval. No second chances."
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Then opened it again. "I thought I'd be on a team. Maybe shadowing someone—"
He finally looked up.
Dark eyes. Cold and observant, like he was cataloguing her weaknesses before she even spoke.
"You are the team. You will meet deadlines. You will coordinate with every department. This gala represents Jinhai's image, and I do not tolerate failure."
Liu Xin swallowed. "Understood."
"Your first task: draft a proposal by tomorrow with three venue options, two theme concepts, and initial budget projections."
She blinked. "Tomorrow?"
"No extensions."
He tapped the screen. "That will be all."
Liu Xin stood, adrenaline thumping in her veins. Her heels clicked against the stone floor as she turned.
"Miss Liu."
She stopped.
He didn't look at her when he said, "Don't wear that scent again."
Liu stared. Was this really happening?
"I didn't even wear perfume," she muttered under her breath as she exited.
---
Back at her new desk—essentially a glass coffin in the hallway—Liu Xin let out a breath and dropped her bag.
"I signed up to plan charity galas, not wrestle tigers in suits," she hissed to herself.
She powered up the tablet, already seeing meeting notifications flood in.
Still, something sparked in her chest. A challenge. A chance to rise above the chaos. She wasn't going to get intimidated by some cold CEO who thought emotions were contagious.
She'd show him.
---
That evening, just as she was packing up, her company chat pinged with a surprise notification:
Wu Jian: "Dinner. Mandatory. I want to see how you handle vendors."
Location: Crimson Sky Rooftop Restaurant. 7:30 PM.
She blinked at the screen.
Dinner? With him?
Before she could question further, another ping.
Wu Jian: "Don't be late."
---
Cliffhanger Ending:
Liu Xin arrived five minutes early. The restaurant was a dizzying height above the city, glowing with red glass lanterns.
She stepped onto the rooftop—and immediately saw Wu Jian staring at a wine glass, motionless.
As she approached, his jaw tightened. The lights reflected crimson in the wine.
His eyes flicked to her—haunted, cold.
And then he stood up so fast the chair screeched.
"I changed my mind," he said, voice clipped. "This dinner is over."
Before she could speak, he turned and walked out, leaving her standing there—stunned, confused, and for the first time… curious.