Hua's pov:
The office was too quiet — painfully quiet.Every keyboard click sounded like thunder.I told myself I was in control.I wasn't.
The illusion of control.
That's what I kept telling myself all morning — that I was in control.
That this job transfer, this silence from HR, this man pretending nothing was wrong… was something I could manage.
Except I couldn't.
My inbox still said "Transfer Approved.." No updates. No rejection. No changes.
Just silence.
And Yichen?
He was acting like nothing had happened.
Worse — he was calm.
Not a single mention of the transfer, not a single frown, not even the cold sharpness that usually came with stress. He was composed. Too composed.
I almost wanted to scream at him.
He only said this one thing.
"You'll understand this weekend."
Understand what?
Then, later that day, as he passed by my desk:
"Make sure your schedule is clear Saturday night for the event, don't be late."
And then, the cherry on top—
"Wear something white."
I remember blinking at him, mouth half open.
"Why?"
"Do as I say." he said, walking away like a cryptic drama hero who thinks being mysterious is attractive.
I rolled my eyes so hard it almost hurt.
Was this another one of his CEO mind games?
Because if it was, I wasn't playing.
The Preparations
Two days before the event, my life turned into chaos.
Since Jing's "departure" — which everyone pretended wasn't because she'd been spying for HQ — I had to handle everything alone.
From the spreadsheets, accountability to the lighting cues, table setups — all on me.
I barely slept. My desk was a battlefield of color-coded post-its and coffee cups.
But Yichen, instead of helping, decided to make everything worse.
"Add one more table in the front," he said, hovering behind me.
"Why?"
"Because I asked."
Ten minutes later:
"Make sure the music changes after the speech."
"What kind of music?"
"Figure it out."
And then:
"Don't confirm the MC yet — I'll handle it."
I swiveled in my chair, glaring at him. "Do you plan on telling me what do you have in mind, or should I just guess?"
He didn't even look up from his phone. "Guessing suits you."
I could've thrown my stapler at his perfect, calm face.
Friday Night — The Breaking Point
By the time Friday came, my nerves were fried.
I was sick — sick of handling everything by myself. Sick of the sudden changes. And sick of Yichen caring only about this event, not event a little about my transfer!
Just like I thought — even if this marriage was fake, I really believed we shared something significant for a moment...
I went to his office after hours, armed with event files and enough frustration to burn the whole floor down.
"You don't even care that I'm being transferred!" I snapped, slamming the documents on his desk.
He looked up slowly. "You think I don't care?"
"Yes! You're not even trying to stop it. You're too busy changing table layouts and playlist orders like we're decorating for a school prom!"
His jaw tightened. "This isn't about that."
"Then what is it about?!"
He hesitated — that rare flicker of conflict crossing his face.
"I need this event to be perfect," he said finally.
"That's your excuse?" My voice cracked. "That's all you have to say?"
He stood then, the quiet intensity in his eyes making the air feel heavier. "You have no idea what I'm trying to do, Hua."
"Then tell me!"
He didn't.
For a long second, we just stood there — breath against breath, anger and longing melting into something that scared me more than the transfer itself.
He reached out, fingertips brushing my wrist—
—and then his phone rang.
Of course.
He turned away, muttering something to his father.
By the time he hung up, I was already gone.
The Day of the Event
Saturday night.
I arrived early, still half-confused, half-annoyed, wearing the only white dress I owned — simple, knee-length, professional enough for a corporate gala.
Except… the atmosphere wasn't corporate at all.
The lobby was filled with flowers. Real ones. Orchids, lilies, roses — elegant, almost romantic. Cameras flashed everywhere. Guests were dressed in gowns, tuxedos, diamonds that could blind someone.
It looked less like a company event and more like a… gala.
My stomach tightened.
I found Mei near the backstage area, nervously holding a clipboard.
"You look beautiful," she said with a grin that was too wide.
"Beautiful? It's just a work dress," I muttered.
She bit her lip. "Well, it's your big day."
"My what?"
Before I could ask again, someone bumped into me, spilling a full glass of red wine all over my dress.
"OH MY GOD, your-- beautiful dress! It's runned!" Mei gasped dramatically, holding her hands to her face. "What should we do?! The event's starting soon!"
I froze, staring at the spreading red stain on the white fabric.
"Come with me!" she said, grabbing my wrist before I could even react.
She pulled me backstage, into a side dressing room filled with mirrors and racks of clothes.
"Mei, what are you—"
"Trust me, okay? There's no time!"
Before I knew it, she'd zipped me into a long voluminous gown — white again, but this one…
This one was different.
It shimmered under the light, with delicate embroidery that looked almost familiar.
"I've seen this before…" I whispered.
"Don't move, I'll fix your makeup," Mei said quickly, avoiding my eyes.
She brushed powder on my cheeks, styled my hair, even sprayed perfume — something floral and expensive.
It all felt too rehearsed.
"Mei," I said slowly, "why are you doing all this?"
She smiled nervously, pushing me toward a small mark taped on the floor.
"Stand here, okay? Don't move until I say."
"Mei!"
But she was already gone.
The lights dimmed.
Music started — soft, elegant piano notes echoing through the hall.
Through the crack of the curtain, I saw Yichen on stage, dressed in a sleek black suit, perfectly composed as always.
He took the microphone, his voice deep, calm, magnetic.
"Good evening, everyone."
The crowd quieted instantly.
"This event marks not only the future of Liang Group…" he said, pausing with practiced timing, "but the future of its leadership."
Applause. Cameras.
I frowned, confused. Leadership?
He continued.
"From today, we are honored to welcome the brilliant engineer Hé Zichen to our family. A partnership that will redefine innovation."
I exhaled. Okay. So it was a corporate announcement.
But then he added—
"For years, my family believed power required control."
Something in his tone shifted.
"I believe it requires faith."
The curtain behind him started to open.
"What—"
A blast of white light hit my eyes.
I froze.
I was standing there — on stage.
The audience gasped. Cameras flashed like lightning.
"And I've found mine," Yichen said softly, turning toward me.
The giant LED screen on the wall changed.
And that's when I saw it.
My name lit up the screen.I thought I was hallucinating.The letters didn't make sense.But they were there — permanent, public, irreversible.
"Liang Yichen Marries Liang Group's Rising Star, Lin Hua."
My heart stopped.
I stood there, completely stunned, the air knocked out of my lungs.
The crowd erupted — gasps, murmurs, whispers flying across the room.
He started walking toward me, slow, deliberate, like every step was part of a plan he'd rehearsed a thousand times.
When he reached me, he extended his hand. His eyes — steady, warm, and unshakably certain — met mine.
"You said once," he murmured, voice barely audible over the noise, "that you wanted to look like a princess."
His smile was soft. "So I made sure you would."
My chest tightened so hard it hurt.
"You tricked me," I whispered.
"Normal people would call this a surprise." he replied calmly.
"You lied."
"Only because the truth was scarier."
I took a step back, trembling. "This—this is insane! You can't just decide something like this!"
He reached for my wrist — not forcefully, just enough to stop me from walking away.
"You can leave after tonight," he said quietly. "If you still want to."
"Yichen…"
He smiled faintly — that rare, devastating kind of smile that reached his eyes.
"But let me have this one thing," he whispered.
"Let me show you what it feels like to be a princess."
The lights flashed, cameras clicked, the crowd roared—
And I stood there, caught between fury, disbelief, and the terrifying realization that maybe… just maybe…
I didn't want to leave.