The soft hum of classical music floated through Lu Jingyan's dressing room as her stylist worked on the final touches for a shoot. The late afternoon sun filtered through the large windows, casting a golden hue on the makeup table. Her phone, silent most of the day, buzzed with a message from an unexpected sender:
*Leng Xuanmo.*
She hesitated, heart skipping in spite of herself, before unlocking the phone.
*Leng Xuanmo:*
"There's a charity gala in Chicago this weekend. I'm one of the sponsors. Would you be willing to attend with me? Not for the press. Just… for us. No pressure."
Lu Jingyan stared at the screen. Her first instinct was to decline—politely, firmly, without room for ambiguity. But her fingers paused over the keyboard. He hadn't sent flowers, hadn't made another grand gesture since the last confrontation. No surprise appearances, no over-the-top declarations. Just this one message.
Quiet. Respectful. Waiting.
Before she could reply, Mei Xiaotong burst into the dressing room. "Have you seen the buzz about that Chicago charity event? All the top business elites, models, and international designers will be there."
Lu Jingyan arched a brow. "You knew about it?"
"Of course. Why?"
She handed her phone to Xiaotong.
Mei Xiaotong read the message, her eyes widening slightly. "So… he's inviting you now? To something this big?"
Lu Jingyan took back the phone, locking it. "Should I say no?"
Xiaotong hesitated. "Honestly? I think you should go."
"You were the one who told me not to fall just because he follows me around like a golden retriever."
"True," Xiaotong said, plopping down on the couch. "But this isn't him chasing you at a photoshoot or causing drama. This is a quiet, personal invite. You don't have to go for him. Go for yourself. Show them you're unbothered, elegant, and ten steps ahead."
Lu Jingyan glanced at the window, mind spinning with thoughts. She had spent months clawing her way out of the shadows cast by her family's fall, enduring whispers, scandal, and heartbreak. Now here he was—not begging, not demanding, but asking.
Like he was ready to walk beside her, not in front.
"I'll think about it," she said finally.
***
Two days later, the private jet touched down in Chicago. The skies above Lake Michigan shimmered with the last hints of daylight as luxury cars rolled toward the gala venue — a glass-domed museum, transformed into a garden of lights and elegance.
Inside, the world's elite mingled beneath chandeliers made of crystals and stars. Cameras flashed, laughter rose above the string quartet's gentle playing.
Leng Xuanmo stood near the entrance in a sleek black tuxedo, his composure as calm as ever, but his eyes constantly flicked toward the door.
And then she walked in.
Lu Jingyan wore a high-slit silver silk gown that shimmered like moonlight. Her hair was styled into soft waves that framed her delicate features, a diamond pin gleaming just above her ear. The entire room turned—silent for a beat too long.
Leng Xuanmo's breath hitched. He stepped forward, meeting her in the middle of the room.
"You came," he said, voice low, almost reverent.
"I did," she replied, cool but composed. "Chicago's lovely this time of year."
He chuckled softly, offering his arm. "Shall we?"
She hesitated, then looped her hand through his. "Don't make me regret this."
A small smile curved his lips. "Never again."
As they moved further into the room, the flashbulbs resumed. Whispers swirled like perfume in the air:
"Is that Lu Jingyan with Leng Xuanmo?"
"Didn't she say she was on 'probation' with him?"
"God, the chemistry is unreal."
Mei Xiaotong, watching from a few feet away, smirked and texted Lu Jingyan:
#"This is better than any drama I've ever watched."#
Lu Jingyan glanced at her phone and fought the smile threatening her lips.
Tonight wasn't about saving face.
It was about facing forward. Together.