They didn't speak on the way to Mo Mansion. The car, though luxurious and silent, felt heavy with tension. Today, both families would gather for a celebratory dinner in honor of the marriage. A farce, Mo Yichen thought bitterly. The mighty CEO, shackled by an arrangement he never agreed to, how laughable.
It felt like everyone was mocking him. His grandfather, her parents, and the world. Wasn't it amusing? That the one man who could bend markets, crush empires, and rewrite corporate destinies couldn't even choose his own wife?
His jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists in his lap. He glanced sideways at the girl beside him, the petite, pale girl who had been silently staring out the window since they left the marriage bureau. Xia Ruyan. Always so quiet, so cold, so aloof.
He wanted to smash her detached little head into the glass.
The thought startled him, not just its violence, but how easy it came. She tested his self-control limits repeatedly, and he hated it. Hated her. Hated how she made him feel like a caged beast.
He hated how much he was complaining inside his head. He was whining, for God's sake. Mo Yichen, CEO of Mo Corporation, reduced to silent tantrums in the backseat of a car. Pathetic.
So, what if he had been forced? He had been forced into plenty of things before. He always came out on top. He would win. As always. The king doesn't surrender. He would make her regret registering this ridiculous marriage.
With a sigh, he turned toward her. "Don't expect anything from me. Or from this marriage," he said coldly.
Finally, she looked at him. Her gaze met his, steady and unblinking. Her eyes, rare amber in color, reflected nothing. No sorrow or joy. Just... clarity.
For a moment, he was thrown off. Caught in the strange stillness of her gaze.
"If this was your scheme," he snapped, "don't celebrate just yet. Because I never lose." She didn't flinch.
"To me, this is just a deal," he continued, his voice like ice. "So, act accordingly. Behave yourself. And when I'm done, I can give you enough money to vanish. Isn't that what you want?"
He thought he saw something shift in her eyes. Something dark. Something sharp. Disgust?
"You…" He paused; his voice laced with scorn. "Don't think your little game will earn you anything. To me, this marriage and you mean nothing."
Silence.
Then, finally, she spoke.
"Keep your words," she said, her voice as quiet as their first meeting, but not weak. "Don't let this marriage mean anything to you." Simple words. Yet they landed like a slap. Minimal, but piercing.
Mo Yichen turned his face away, his jaw clenching again. Why did she always have the final word?
And why did it sting?
The rest of the ride was spent in utter silence.
Mo Yichen had his laptop open, his fingers flying over the keyboard, harshly, decisively. Work had always been his coping mechanism. It calmed his nerves, gave him a sense of control, and diverted his attention to something productive. But today, even work failed to shield his thoughts from drifting toward the girl sitting detached beside him.
She was quiet and withdrawn, almost as if she didn't exist in the same space. Her presence was distant, and it irritated him more than he cared to admit.
They entered the Mo Estates after an hour. The noon sun was glowing golden, bathing everything in warm light. The majestic mansion stood tall, regal in its golden hue. It was the epitome of wealth and status, a perfect blend of European antiquity and modern architecture. Every corner reflected power and legacy. The gardens on both sides were maintained in perfect geometric symmetry, filled with rare and exotic flowers arranged in bold, contrasting palettes.
It was flawless...visually. But that was all.
Despite its beauty, the mansion lacked a soul. It was a place of elegant bricks and polished stone, calculated colors and designer blooms. Everything looked exquisite, yet impersonal. A masterpiece without warmth.
Rows of servants stood aligned in military precision, ready to welcome the newlywed couple.
The head butler stepped forward and opened the car door for Mo Yichen. He got out with practiced grace, effortlessly elegant. He didn't offer Xia Ruyan his hand. He didn't want to, and she didn't expect him to.
She stepped out on her own, casting a fleeting glance at her surroundings. There was no awe in her eyes, no appreciation for the mansion that towered before her. It was as if she had walked into a hotel lobby, not the ancestral home of one of the country's most powerful families.
Mo Yichen felt the sting of her indifference like a slap. But he kept it in. He didn't want to cause a scene in front of the staff. They were his grandfather's eyes and ears. He scoffed under his breath and walked ahead. She followed behind him, calm and unaffected, ignoring the long line of servants.
When the head butler respectfully greeted her, she acknowledged him with a small nod, a bare, restrained gesture. Yet something about it made the butler straighten his posture, almost as if her presence demanded it.
The servants were at a loss, exchanging brief glances among themselves. The woman with their master was too beautiful to be real. She didn't seem human, more like a dream carved into reality. Ethereal, graceful, and untouchable.
And just like that, she disappeared behind the grand doors of the mansion.
Inside, Grandpa Mo was already waiting for them, standing tall and proud, ready to receive the couple. Mo Yichen placed the two red marriage certificates into his grandfather's hands. The old man examined them thoroughly, his eyes lighting up with unfiltered joy before he burst out in hearty laughter.
"This is wonderful news!" he exclaimed. "Haha! Now I finally have a granddaughter-in-law. Welcome to the family, Ruyan."
He reached out and clasped her hand warmly. Xia Ruyan, however, bit the inside of her cheek. She absolutely hated being touched. Sensing her stiffness, Grandfather Mo released her hand quickly, not offended in the slightest.
"Your parents are here as well. It's already late. Let's eat first," he said kindly, signaling the butler, who bowed and led the way to the East Hall.
Inside, the Xia couple was already waiting. As always, they looked impeccable in their coordinated outfits, refined, composed, the picture of dignified elegance. Upon seeing the newlyweds, they walked toward them gracefully. Grandfather Mo proudly held up the certificate, and they nodded in quiet approval.
Her father's eyes fell on Ruyan, filled with complex emotion, gratitude, apology, and something else Mo Yichen couldn't place. That look made something stir in his chest.
Then, without saying a word, Mr. Xia pulled his daughter into a firm embrace. He enveloped her completely, as if shielding her from the world. And the girl who loathed physical contact… did nothing.
She let him hug her. No, more than that, she hugged him back. A flicker of something burned in Mo Yichen's chest as he watched her face buried against her father's shoulder. Would she ever lean into his arms like that? The thought struck him hard and fast, and he mentally recoiled.
"A-Yan," Mr. Xia said gently, his voice heavy with emotion, "I know this isn't what you wanted. I know… You may even hate your mother and me right now. But my love, how could we ever let your safety be at risk? How could we survive losing our heart, you?"
His words trembled with the weight of fatherly love. Mo Yichen heard every word. So, she had been forced into this marriage. To protect her? But from what? He stared at the Xia couple, trying to make sense of it. With all the affection they showered on her, it was hard to believe they'd force her into anything. Still… he needed to know more.
Or perhaps… it was all a game. A clever ruse to draw his attention. And damn it, if that were true, they were succeeding.
The thought irritated him enough to want to pull away completely. Perhaps it would be best to distance himself. As for her safety… it wasn't his concern. Still, he had made a promise. Two of his most capable bodyguards would be more than enough to keep an eye on her.
She was just a woman. What could possibly go wrong?
He had no idea that this one careless decision would come back to haunt him in ways he could never imagine.
"Alright then, let's eat," Grandfather Mo said cheerfully, breaking the tension.
The dinner began; a lavish, multi-course affair prepared by the Mo family's top chefs. A server placed a salad in front of Xia Ruyan, and she gave a soft but polite, "Thank you." She carefully wiped the edges of her utensils with a tissue before lifting them. Then unfolded the napkin with practiced elegance and began eating quietly.
Madam Xia hesitated for a beat, then looked up, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Uncle Mo, Yichen," she began, her voice gentle yet carrying an undercurrent of concern, "Our A-Yan has severe mysophobia. She doesn't share food, unlike what's customary in our traditions. I hope you won't mind. We've spent most of our lives abroad, so her eating habits are different. She prefers light flavors, balanced bowls. Please… I hope she won't be misunderstood."
Her voice cracked ever so slightly, and her fingers trembled against the edge of her teacup.
At her words, Xia Ruyan's hand paused mid-movement, her fork hovering just inches from her mouth. She lowered it slowly, her lashes dipping to veil her expression. She didn't look up. Didn't correct her mother. Didn't explain herself.
Because she never did. She would rather let people judge her than open herself up to be understood.
Mo Yichen's brows furrowed slightly, his eyes flicking to her. So delicate and self-contained. Even at a dinner table surrounded by family, she seemed like she was dining alone, walled behind an invisible fortress built of silence, precision, and cold grace.
Mysophobia? He studied her again. Her hands, slender and steady. Her movements are almost ritualistic. So even her food habits were part of the boundaries she drew? And yet… he couldn't call her strange. She wasn't rude. Just distant. As though she lived in a world parallel to theirs.
"This is not a problem at all. Don't make it sound so serious," Old Master Mo said warmly, offering a reassuring glance. "Ruyan can live as she pleases."
Madam Xia still looked uneasy. "If it's alright," she continued, voice softening with hope, "may I send over A-Yan's personal assistant, so she can help prepare her meals?"
At that, Mo Yichen's face hardened, his tone clipped. "What? Do you think the Mo family can't afford a maid?"
The room stilled.
Ruyan's eyes lifted at that, her gaze flicking briefly toward him, unreadable. She said nothing, but her spine straightened just a bit, and her fork was placed gently back down on the plate. For her, that was equivalent to a glare.
Madam Xia waved her hands quickly, flustered. "No, of course not! It's just… A-Yan doesn't do well with abrupt changes. They make her anxious. Her assistant knows her routines."
"As I said," Grandfather Mo interrupted before the tension could rise further, "Ruyan is free to do as she wishes in this house." The Xia couple sighed in unison, the weight of years of parenting slipping momentarily from their shoulders.
"Ruyan," Grandfather Mo continued cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood, "Yichen's parents are currently on vacation. They'll return next week. He also has two younger brothers. You'll meet them in time. For now, don't feel pressured. Settle in at your own pace."
Ruyan gave a soft nod, silent as ever. Her face betrayed nothing. But her fingers clenched slightly in her lap, hidden beneath the tablecloth. Mo Yichen, watching her from the corner of his eye, felt that strange tension rise again. He couldn't tell if it was irritation or intrigue.
After their late lunch, the Xia couple finally asked for their leave, having achieved what they came for.
"A Yan, your things have been placed in your room. Marie will be coming soon to take care of your daily routines, alright?" her father said gently. Mo Yichen watched, startled. She looked like a child. Twenty-one suddenly felt too young.
"Okay," she replied obediently.
Madam Xia stood quietly, hesitating. She wanted to say something, but wasn't sure if she still had the right. After all, she had forced this relationship upon her.
"Eat properly, don't skip meals. If anyone bullies you, call me," her father said with a teasing smile, tapping her small, proud nose. Xia Ruyan scrunched her nose slightly at the contact, and Mo Yichen's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't help but find it oddly endearing, yet his mind was racing. How could someone so poised turn so childlike in front of her parents? He was momentarily thrown off by her innocence, something he rarely saw in his own life.
Ruyan continued to gaze at her father, and he sighed. "Okay, okay. No one can bully you, and you must not bully others," he added, trying to reassure her. This time, Ruyan finally looked away. Her father smiled, but his eyes shimmered with a truth he couldn't say aloud, guilt, perhaps, or the fear that she wouldn't be alright. "Can you promise me you'll take care of yourself?" he asked.
She stared at him in silence before answering softly, "I promise, Baba."
"That's all I ask for," her father replied with a contented sigh.
Madam Xia then stepped forward, tears welling up in her eyes. "Yanyan, remember one thing: I love you. I love you so much that I have no words to express it," she said, her voice trembling.
"I know," Ruyan replied without hesitation. There was a pause. Then Ruyan looked up, her voice clear, unwavering, "Don't explain. I know you love me so much that you'd even kill yourself for me." She spoke with a straight face. Madam Xia inhaled sharply, and Mo Yichen was utterly stunned.
"Yes, I would, Yanyan. So please... live," her mother said, cupping Ruyan's delicate face and planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.
Mo Yichen, standing in the corner, was completely confused. He couldn't recall a time when his parents had hugged or kissed him since he was four. And here was a 21-year-old woman, receiving all this affection and, to his surprise, she was okay with it, even though she usually hated being touched.
The couple moved toward the door. Her soft voice called out to them.
"Ma, Baba."
They turned to smile at her, but Ruyan only gazed at them for a long moment before giving them a small, quiet wave. It was a silent goodbye. The next time they saw each other, it would be beyond their control, something neither of them could ever predict.