The afternoon light filtered gently through the tinted floor-to-ceiling windows of the CEO's office. Lin Xie sat cross-legged on the wide leather couch, a disassembled fountain pen in one hand and its spring in the other. Shen Rui had left for another strategy session two floors down, leaving her alone. Or, at least, unguarded.
She hadn't moved since he left. Just turned the pen apart, piece by piece, testing its balance, curious if it could be used as a makeshift lockpick or micro-lance.
That was when the door burst open.
Not knocked.
Not pushed.
Thrown open like the person on the other side owned the oxygen in the room.
"Gege—" the woman began, but froze mid-step.
Lin Xie tilted her head.
The woman—early twenties, in a sleek caramel coat and designer boots—halted like someone had punched her in the throat. Her eyes flicked across the office, zeroing in on the girl on the couch.
On Lin Xie.
Who blinked once.
That was it.
The room fell still for a second.
"…You're not his assistant," the woman finally said, brow twitching.
Lin Xie didn't reply. She just continued holding the pen spring between two fingers like it might reveal something important.
"You're… in his office," the woman continued, slower this time, adjusting the strap of her handbag. "On his couch."
Another blink.
"I've never seen a girl in this room before. Not even during birthdays."
Still, Lin Xie said nothing.
The woman's brows lifted further. Then something clicked in her expression—not suspicion, not anger.
Intrigue.
She stepped closer, heels tapping on the polished floor, eyeing Lin Xie with growing amusement. "You're not saying anything. That's bold."
Still no response.
"You know he's my brother, right? Shen Rui. The emotionally constipated guy who runs this place like it's a military base?"
Lin Xie paused in reassembling the pen, eyes narrowing slightly. Not in confusion. In calculation.
Brother.
That explained the familial resemblance. The sharp eyes. The elegance.
But this woman smiled. She radiated warmth and sunshine and a hint of expensive perfume—things Lin Xie didn't trust.
Still seated, Lin Xie kept watching.
Not intimidated.
Just studying.
The woman sighed dramatically. "Okay, wow. You really don't talk, do you? Fine." She straightened up, tossed her hair over one shoulder, and gave Lin Xie a slow, assessing look. "You're interesting."
Lin Xie tilted her head again, ever so slightly, gaze following the way the woman's fingers tapped her coat pocket. Not a weapon. Keys.
"Don't worry," the woman added, stepping around the coffee table with a mischievous grin. "I won't ask questions. Not yet. He's never brought anyone up here before. Let alone someone who looks like she's decoding a missile silo from a couch."
Still nothing.
No words. Just the faint tightening of Lin Xie's grip on the pen.
"Alright then," the woman said with a nod, clearly enjoying herself. "I like you."
Lin Xie blinked again.
Then resumed reconstructing the pen.
As the woman headed back toward the door, she tossed one final glance over her shoulder and said with a sly smile, "Tell my brother I stopped by."
She left just as quickly as she came.
No names exchanged. No introductions.
Only silent calculations and one-sided curiosity.
Lin Xie sat still for a moment longer, letting the spring click softly into place inside the pen.
Then she looked up at the door where the woman had disappeared.
She didn't smile.
But she didn't frown either.
Just added a new entry to her internal list of unpredictable variables.
----
The elevator doors closed with a soft hiss, and Shen Yan practically bounced on her heels.
She knew something was weird.
The energy in her brother's office had never been like that before. Normally it was all spreadsheets, silence, and the psychological tension of a courtroom. But today? Today there had been her.
That girl.
That completely silent, unnervingly still, absurdly calm girl sitting on Shen Rui's couch like it was a throne and not sacred ground. Shen Yan could barely contain her grin.
Is Gege finally not a monk anymore?
She clutched her coat tighter, barely suppressing a giggle as the elevator descended. The idea of her cold, untouchable, robot of a brother—actually bringing a girl into his space—was almost too much. She had to tell someone. No. She had to scream into a pillow first. Then tell someone.
And the girl—God. What a presence.
Not that she said anything. Not one word. She just… looked. Like a cat watching someone make toast. Vaguely interested. Possibly judging. Probably planning an assassination.
"She looked like a minor though," Shen Yan mumbled to herself, frowning as her brain finally caught up. "Wait. She looked young. Really young. Like—'you need to ask for ID before offering juice' young."
The giggles stalled halfway up her throat.
"...And she looked colder than Gege."
That was the most disturbing part.
Her brother, CEO of glacier-level emotional repression, had finally brought someone up to his office—and that someone had looked like she'd walked out of a psychological thriller and calmly hacked a government system before breakfast.
And she hadn't flinched. Not once.
Not even when Shen Yan talked to her. Not even when she revealed who she was. No sucking up. No nerves. No awe.
Just that piercing, unnerving study.
Like Shen Yan was the alien. Like the girl was filing her into some mental database, probably under "non-hostile civilian: 42% probability of irrational behavior."
Shen Yan blinked at her reflection in the elevator door.
"Gege," she whispered in awe, "what kind of scary little creature did you bring into your office?"
The elevator dinged.
She stepped out, her brain spinning.
She needed answers.
She also needed cake.
And maybe a background check.
Because if that girl was really staying around—
Then Shen Rui was definitely in for chaos.
And honestly?
Shen Yan couldn't wait.
Shen Yan didn't even bother calling ahead.
The moment she stepped out of the car and into the courtyard of the Shen family's main house, she was already texting her mom in all caps:
MOM OPEN THE DOOR I HAVE NEWS. LIKE. THE BIG KIND.
By the time the housekeeper opened it, Shen Yan was practically vibrating. She stormed through the foyer with the dramatic flair of a palace herald.
"MOM," she called out. "MOM, ARE YOU HOME? I HAVE GOSSIP. MAJOR GOSSIP. YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE—"
"I'm in the tea room!" her mother's voice called back.
Shen Yan nearly skidded as she made the turn, breathless with the thrill of forbidden knowledge. Her mother, graceful as ever in her cheongsam and pearls, looked up from her cup of jasmine tea with the composed curiosity of a woman who knew drama was coming.
"What happened?" Madam Shen asked.
Shen Yan threw herself onto the cushion beside her like a girl half her age.
"There was a girl," she said, eyes sparkling. "In Gege's office."
Madam Shen blinked. "...a female business partner?"
"No, no—young girl. Pretty. Tiny. Looked like a minor—but terrifying. I walked in and she was sitting there like she owned the office. And Gege didn't say a word. Like it was normal."
There was a moment of stunned silence.
And then—
The teacup clinked softly against the table as Madam Shen slowly set it down, eyes wide.
"A woman. In his office," she repeated. "Not an assistant?"
Shen Yan grinned. "Not unless he's into goth mannequins. She didn't even say hello. Just stared at me like I was an escaped lab rat."
Madam Shen stood.
"Where are you going?" Shen Yan gasped.
"To the office."
"No!" Shen Yan leapt to block the way. "You'll scare her away! She looked like she doesn't even know what feelings are. Don't make it weird."
"I won't," Madam Shen said serenely. "I'll just observe."
"You'll bring the matchmaking catalog."
"I won't even open it."
"You named my future grandchildren before even meeting her, didn't you?"
"I've narrowed it down to six boy names and eight girl names," Madam Shen said without a trace of shame. "And I already commissioned matching hanfu for the photoshoots."
Shen Yan groaned. "Mother!"
Madam Shen sighed and sat back down, folding her hands like a satisfied general planning a coup.
"I don't care what her background is," she said firmly. "If she made Rui let someone into his routine—if she made him pause—then I already like her. If I must kidnap her to secure this alliance, I will."
They both burst into giggles, suddenly fifteen years old again, scandalized and delighted.
"But you said he doesn't believe in dating," Shen Yan added after a beat.
Madam Shen's expression softened. "He told me recently… that he'd met someone. Someone he couldn't quite explain. I thought it was another excuse to dodge marriage talk."
She smiled now, a mother's deep, quiet relief blooming behind her eyes.
"I didn't believe him," she said.
"But now?" Shen Yan prompted.
Madam Shen picked up her tea again, smiling into the steam.
"Now," she said, "I believe him enough to start drafting a guest list."
They were still giggling in the tea room like two teenage girls hiding a crush when the main door opened again.
Shen Yan perked up. "That's Dad."
Madam Shen didn't even try to hide her grin. She smoothed her dress and sat straighter just as her husband stepped into the room, loosening his tie like a man who'd survived another board meeting with minimal damage.
He paused at the doorway, noticing the flushed cheeks, the stifled laughter, the unmistakable look his wife always wore when she was up to something.
"What happened?" he asked, cautious but amused.
"Oh, nothing," Madam Shen said sweetly, taking a sip of her tea. "Your son might not be a monk after all."
Shen Yan let out a snort and nearly choked on her snack.
Mr. Shen blinked. "...He's dating?"
Madam Shen's smile widened. "We don't know yet. But there was a girl. In his office."
Mr. Shen blinked again.
"In the CEO building?" he clarified.
Shen Yan nodded enthusiastically. "She was just there. Sitting like it was totally normal. Cold stare. Didn't say a word. Like a tiny, terrifying penguin in a hoodie."
"And Rui let her?"
Madam Shen placed her cup down gently. "He didn't just let her. He ignored everyone else. He let her sit beside him during meetings. The staff are already gossiping."
Mr. Shen walked to the window and looked out over the garden, hands behind his back.
He was quiet for a long moment.
Then—he exhaled.
"Finally."
Madam Shen raised an eyebrow. "You're relieved?"
He turned to face them. "We were starting to think he had no interest in anyone. Male or female."
Shen Yan laughed. "You thought he was gay?"
"Not that it would be a problem," Mr. Shen added quickly, glancing at his wife. "We just… were running out of possibilities. The man's been allergic to emotion since birth."
Madam Shen sighed dreamily. "If she's the one who finally made him blink, I'll send her a fruit basket. Or a villa."
"Or a contract," Shen Yan teased.
"I'd marry her to him myself," Madam Shen muttered. "With or without consent."
Mr. Shen shook his head, a soft smile tugging at his mouth. "Let's not scare her away yet."
Madam Shen nodded, already calculating something in her mind. "Of course. We'll be subtle."
"You just said you'd kidnap her five minutes ago," Shen Yan said.
"Subtly."
Mr. Shen chuckled under his breath.
But inwardly, he felt the same quiet relief that had taken root in his wife's heart. For years, their brilliant, emotionally-frozen son had been untouchable, unreadable, unapproachable. Cold in business, colder in love. Everyone assumed he'd die married to spreadsheets.
But now?
Now there was a girl in his office.
And for the first time, their perfect son had let someone inside his world.
They didn't know who she was.
But she was already family.