The morning light bled pale gold through the lace curtains, soft and merciless.
Xiaotao entered quietly, a tray of tea balanced in her hands, the morning papers tucked beneath her arm.
"Miss Qin," she said carefully, setting the tray down. "You might… want to see this."
Loulou blinked, half-distracted, until she caught sight of her name in bold black print across the front page.
"Heiress Engagement Confirmed: Qin Loulou to Wed Li Hengyu of the Li Family."
Her breath caught, just for a moment. Then she read it again, slower this time, eyes tracing every word like a script she'd already performed once before.
The article went on about the "long-standing alliance between two great families," about "childhood sweethearts," and "the perfect union of grace and finance."
It even mentioned that she had "quietly supported her fiancé's endeavors from behind the scenes."
A fiction. Every line of it.
Xiaotao's voice broke through the silence. "Miss Qin… did you agree to this?"
Loulou folded the paper neatly, placing it beside her untouched tea. "No," she said simply.
Her tone was calm but her reflection in the window told a different story.
A quiet fury glimmered beneath the surface, sharp and cold.
"So this is how they play," she murmured. "Write me into a role I never accepted."
Xiaotao hesitated. "Should I inform the master? Or maybe..."
"No," Loulou interrupted softly. "They already know. They wrote the script, Xiaotao. I'm just reading the lines they chose."
She rose from her seat, crossing to the vanity. The girl in the mirror looked composed, hair cascading like ink down her shoulders, eyes steady, but her hands trembled ever so slightly as she picked up her comb.
"No one will hand me this stage," she whispered to her reflection. "I have to take it."
She inhaled deeply, smoothed her blouse, and turned to the telephone on her desk. The rotary clicked with each careful turn of her fingers, the sound like a countdown.
When the line connected, she spoke softly, but with the kind of clarity that left no room for refusal.
"Hello," she said, "this is Miss Qin. I wish to speak with Mr. Shen Yanzhou."
A pause. Then a crisp, professional voice replied,
"Mr. Shen is currently unavailable. If you'd like, I can schedule an appointment for you to come to his office tomorrow. Would that be convenient?"
Loulou's lips curved, not quite a smile, more like the start of one.
"Yes," she said. "Tomorrow is perfect. Tell him I won't take much of his time."
The assistant paused, perhaps caught by the quiet authority in her tone.
"Very well, Miss Qin. I'll make the arrangements."
"Thank you," Loulou replied, and gently placed the receiver back in its cradle.
For a moment, she sat in silence, the morning sun spilling over her lap, the newspaper headline glinting beside her like a mocking crown.
Then, almost absently, she tore the article into perfect halves and fed the pieces into the small wastebasket beside her desk.
Ashes don't speak. But performances do.
Later That Day
By afternoon, the Qin estate buzzed with whispers. Servants exchanged knowing glances, and Madam Qin spent the day on the phone feigning surprise over the "unexpected leak" while subtly confirming it to anyone who called.
In the garden, Loulou walked slowly, parasol in hand, her steps measured. Every few feet, she heard her name; engagement, Li Hengyu, such a lovely match.
She smiled faintly, never once correcting them.
Let them build the illusion, she thought. It'll only make the truth louder when I rewrite the ending.
That evening, she sat at her desk once more, flipping through the file Xiaotao had compiled the list of powerful companies.
Her eyes fell again on the same name she'd circled the night before.
Shen Yanzhou.
A man known for turning silence into influence, investments into empires, and failures into art.
A man who didn't wait for permission he built his own stage.
Loulou closed the file, her expression unreadable.
"Tomorrow," she whispered. "It's time to audition for a different kind of role."
The Next Morning,
The city gleamed with a deceptive calm — all glass and rhythm and the hum of traffic far below.
Loulou stepped out of the car, her heels clicking against the marble of the Shen Group building.
Her driver opened the door, but she waved him off. "I'll go in alone," she said.
The lobby smelled faintly of cedar and paper.
At the far end, the elevator gleamed like a mirror. She caught her reflection and for a fleeting second, almost believed it.
When the doors opened on the top floor, she was greeted by a poised young man in a dark suit.
"Miss Qin?" he asked.
"Yes."
"I'm Wen Kai, Mr. Shen's assistant. He's expecting you."
He offered a polite smile, then gestured for her to follow.
They walked down a long corridor lined with glass. Through one window, the skyline stretched forever.
When Wen Kai opened the office door, a faint scent of ink and coffee drifted out.
And then she saw him.
Shen Yanzhou stood beside the floor-to-ceiling windows, back turned, sunlight sketching the edges of his frame.
Tall. Broad shoulders. A dark suit tailored with precision.
When he turned around, her breath stilled.
For a heartbeat, she couldn't move.
He looked exactly like him, the top actor in her previous life, the man who had played Shen Yanzhou in her first film.
Same sculpted jawline, same quiet intensity except this version wore thin black glasses, which somehow made him even more dangerous.
Glasses suit him, she thought absently, a trace of humor beneath her composure.
A faint memory flickered, the actor laughing softly as he untangled confetti from her hair.
Relax, he'd said. You're fine. Just breathe.
It was the only conversation they ever had, but she'd never forgotten it.
"Miss Qin," Shen Yanzhou's voice cut through her thought.
"You requested to see me?"
"Yes," she said, regaining her composure. "Thank you for meeting me, Mr. Shen."
He motioned for her to sit. "You've been in the headlines," he remarked, the faintest hint of amusement in his tone. "Engaged to Li Hengyu, isn't that right?"
Loulou's mouth twitched. "So you do know me."
His eyes glinted behind the glasses. "Hard not to. Your family name is everywhere this week."
"Oh, that," she said lightly. "That's not why I'm here."
He leaned back in his chair. "Then what brings you here, Miss Qin?"
For a moment, she hesitated. This was her stage now.
"Mr. Shen," she began slowly, "I've been meaning to speak with you for a while. You see… I've been an admirer for some time."
His brow lifted slightly. "Oh?"
There was no smugness, only curiosity. "What is it that you admire?"
"Your ability to build things," she replied, tone smooth but edged with purpose. "To take what others overlook and make it shine."
He chuckled, low and brief. "That's flattering, Miss Qin. But flattery rarely books an appointment in my schedule. What is it you want?"
Her smile sharpened. "Fine. Let's skip the pleasantries."
Her voice took on weight.
"Your company is one of the top firms in the country. But not the top. How about making it number one?"
That caught his attention.
"You're saying you have a way to do that?"
"Yes."
"What could it be?"
She leaned forward slightly, gaze unwavering.
"Become my sponsor," she said. "Invest in me in what I'm about to do and you won't regret it."
The silence that followed felt deliberate.
Shen Yanzhou studied her: the poise, the quiet audacity, the burn behind her calm exterior.
Then his lips curved.
"You make it sound like a proposition."
"It is," she replied.
His gaze lingered a beat too long before he spoke again, his voice low, measured: the kind that seemed to hum through the stillness.
"But with you being engaged," he said finally, "having me as your sponsor could be... scandalous."
Loulou's lips curved; not in surprise, but amusement.
"Scandalous," she echoed, savoring the word. "That depends on who's telling the story, doesn't it?"
He arched a brow. "And what story are you planning to tell, Miss Qin?"
She rose from her seat with unhurried grace. The soft whisper of silk filled the air.
Each step toward him felt measured, choreographed.
When she reached his desk, she didn't stop.
Her fingers brushed the edge, cool beneath her touch before she lifted herself onto the corner with the poise of a woman perfectly aware of her own effect.
Her perfume unfurled in the space between them.
"If you're worried about appearances," she murmured, leaning forward just slightly, "I can fix that."
His eyes lifted. "Fix it?"
"It won't stand," she said softly, "if someone else declares their month-old relationship with me."
For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to the space between them.
Wen Kai, outside the door, shifted slightly, sensing the change in air without knowing why.
Shen Yanzhou's gaze flicked to her lips, then back to her eyes.
"A fake relationship," he said at last, not asking, just confirming.
Loulou smiled, slow and knowing. "You catch on fast."
He tilted his head, a faint smile ghosting across his face. "And this performance, is that how you plan to convince investors? By acting?"
Her eyes didn't waver. "Not acting," she said. "Proving."
The silence stretched, heavy with awareness.
Then she slid off the desk, her dress whispering against her skin. When she straightened, she looked untouchable, every inch the poised heiress, but burning with her own ambition.
"I'm not asking you to believe in me," she said, turning toward the light spilling through the glass. "I'm asking you to see what I can do."
She turned back, meeting his gaze.
"If you're the man who builds stages, Mr. Shen… let me show you how to steal the spotlight."
His lips curved, almost imperceptibly.
"You're interesting, Miss Qin."
Her smile deepened, graceful and brief. "That's a start."
She inclined her head slightly. "Until next time, Mr. Shen."
And as she walked out, the faint trace of her perfume lingered.
Wen Kai looked up as she passed. For a fleeting second, he thought the air in the room still vibrated where she'd been.
Inside, Shen Yanzhou's gaze followed the reflection of her departing figure in the glass, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.
"So that's how she wants to play," he murmured.