Mo Yichen never imagined he would be standing in front of this elegant, pristine bungalow again.
Last week, when he walked through those gates and left behind the politeness of Xia Couple's words, he was certain it was a one-time visit. Who would've thought fate, or rather, his grandfather's iron will, would bring him back here?
But here he was again. Why?
Because he'd been handed a verdict, not a choice. A sentence masked as a family decision.
"Marry her, or walk away from Mo Corporation." It wasn't a proposal. It was a verdict.
If the company had remained the same static empire he inherited a decade ago, he might've walked away without a second thought.
But the Mo Corporation now bore his sweat, his blood, his late nights, and sacrifices. It was no longer just a business; it was the culmination of every sleepless night, every ruthless decision, every ounce of willpower he had poured into its foundation. It had become his identity, not just in society, but in his own eyes. Stripping him of it would be like tearing flesh from bone.
And now, they wanted him to give it up? Never.
His grip tightened his fists as he stared at the house. His jaw clenched hard, a muscle ticking in his cheek. He knew how the hyenas, his so-called relatives, lurked in the shadows, just waiting for the perfect opportunity. Waiting for him to slip and make one wrong move.
They would feast on his downfall like ravenous vultures. It wasn't easy building and maintaining the vast legacy the Mo Corporation had become. It wasn't about prestige. It was survival and control. And now, his grandfather had decided that the Xia family, more specifically, Xia Ruyan, would become his refuge. His salvation during turbulent times.
Refuge?
He scoffed inwardly. That woman was more like a storm than a shelter.
Mo Yichen knew his grandfather too well. This wasn't about business alliances. This was an orchestrated push into a marriage he didn't want. A trap disguised as strategy.
Marriage. The word itself made his fists clench. He never thought he'd be forced into it like this. Not him. Not Mo Yichen, who had spent his entire life outrunning expectations, beating odds, proving his worth through action, not family ties.
And now… this?
He yanked at his tie, fingers rough, the fabric resisting for a moment before loosening. It still felt like a noose around his neck. A chain threatening to drag him down into a life he never agreed to. He hated this. Hated the helplessness boiling under his skin.
Marriage was a shackle, not a celebration. A distraction from the responsibilities he'd carved into his very bones. He had obligations, real ones that required sudden departures, long stays in unfamiliar places, that no partner should be forced to endure. He couldn't be a husband. Not the kind who can stay, or the kind who can care.
That's why he never entertained the thought of marriage. He didn't want a wife, and he certainly didn't want someone like Xia Ruyan tied to him.
But now?
Now, he was being cornered like a caged animal. And he was ready to tear down walls to escape.
His fury churned like wildfire. He'd been up since dawn, sparring in the training grounds.
Hit something. Break something. Scream. None of it helped. The rage stayed alive, burning and clawing at his insides like a beast with no leash. But none of it helped.
His eyes were bloodshot, veins prominent, like they'd burst with the weight of unspoken rage. A sharp bitterness crawled up his throat, acidic and relentless. He gritted his teeth. This feeling, this powerlessness, was what he hated most in the world. And it was all because of her.
Xia Ruyan. That brat. That wild card. That maddening enigma.
He scoffed under his breath, a dry, mocking laugh bubbling in his chest. She said she wouldn't marry me, he thought. She made it clear, loud and proud, with the kind of conviction that almost made him believe her. Almost. But women like her always had layers, smoke screens, and distractions. Maybe she was just better at the game than he gave her credit for.
So, he was right. She was scheming. Just like everyone else.
Mo Yichen's gaze darkened, his jaw set like stone. What secret bound this measly Xia family to his grandfather? What was binding them so tightly that his grandfather threatened him with his inheritance? And what made that woman agree?
He couldn't wait to see her face. He wanted to mock her. Watch her squirm. Enjoy the moment she realized she was now tied to a man she'd insulted so freely. But after waiting for a while and receiving no greeting, he stepped forward and entered the house.
Same house.
Same atmosphere.
Same house help opened the door, eyes lowered, posture practiced.
He walked in. And just like before, it was quiet, too quiet. His navy-blue suit was impeccable, hugging his tall frame with tailored precision. The deep color made his onyx-black eyes appear even darker, more intense. His fair skin contrasted the ensemble so starkly it looked ethereal, like the suit had been stitched from the night sky just to match him.
He adjusted his cuffs, diamond cufflinks catching the morning light with sharp glints. Everything about him screamed wealth and untouchable elegance. He was effortlessly luxurious, and he knew it.
Mr. and Mrs. Xia came to greet him, their smiles polite and graceful, the kind that usually made people comfortable.
But not him.
Something was off.
Very off.
Their eyes were red, slightly swollen, and trembling at the edges, telling a different story.
Had they been crying? Maybe they were just emotional, marrying off their only daughter? But… no. This wasn't just sadness. It was something else. Something stranger.
Suddenly, stillness crept into the room. Even the faint ticking of the clock seemed to pause. He felt it before he saw it, that shift in the air. The quiet hum of something ancient. And then… she entered.
Xia Ruyan.