Morning came too quickly. Xia Ruyan wasn't even sure if she had slept at all....her night blurred by exhaustion and intrusive thoughts. By 8 a.m., she was up, dressed, and walking downstairs, the rhythm of her routine pulling her forward like muscle memory.
The dining hall was already alive with quiet clinks of cutlery and the soft hum of morning news playing from a tablet screen propped on the sideboard. Grandfather Mo and Mo Yichen were seated at the long table. The butler, with his usual precision, led her to her place.
"Good morning," she greeted softly, her voice measured, almost serene.
"Good morning, child!" Grandfather Mo responded with enthusiasm, smiling warmly at her. Mo Yichen, however, merely offered a sharp, knowing smile. His eyes flickered with something unreadable…...strategy, perhaps. Today, he had a plan.
As Ruyan took her seat, a warm glass of water with lime and honey was placed before her. She looked up...recognition flaring in her eyes, as a tall woman in her early thirties approached with a subtle smile.
"Good morning, ma'am," the woman said in a low but firm tone.
"Marie," Ruyan acknowledged with a small nod. "Good morning."
Marie had been her personal assistant for nearly a decade. She looked as she always did, tall, composed, and sharp. Her rugged features and no-nonsense demeanor made her appear more like a field agent than a caregiver. Today, she wore plain brown trousers and a neatly tucked shirt of the same shade, giving off the air of a disciplined soldier.
Marie turned to the men at the table. "Good morning, sirs. I'm Marie, Miss Xia's personal assistant."
Both Grandfather Mo and Mo Yichen nodded, though their surprise was apparent. They hadn't expected her to arrive so soon.
Soon after, Marie returned with a tray bearing Ruyan's breakfast: a bowl of neatly diced seasonal fruits, a perfectly boiled egg in its porcelain holder, multigrain toast, and a glass of almond milk. Everything looked precise, nutritious, and tailored to Ruyan's known preferences.
"Thank you," Ruyan said simply, and began eating with quiet grace.
Mo Yichen watched her from across the table. She ate slowly, cleanly, picking at the toast with care, dabbing a small bit of avocado paste onto it with the same precision a surgeon might use. It was so… calculated.
Fussy, he thought, amused.
After breakfast, Grandfather Mo gestured toward the sunlit patio. "Come, let's have tea outside. It's a lovely morning."
The trio moved outside, where the early breeze still held a whisper of last night's chill. The garden beyond the patio was in full bloom, and the faint fragrance of magnolias lingered in the air. A small round table stood under a wide umbrella, the porcelain teapot already steaming gently.
As they settled, Grandfather Mo turned to her kindly. "Are you settling in well?"
Ruyan nodded politely. "Yes, thank you."
Mo Yichen sat back in his chair, arms folded, his expression unreadable. But he was observing everything. He knew her type: respectful to elders, obedient when it came to family ties. She would follow Grandfather Mo's word because of her parents. And he intended to use that obedience to dismantle her pride.
Then, as the tea was poured and silence hung gently in the air, Grandfather Mo spoke again.
"Ruyan, I remember your father once mentioning that you can't practice medicine anymore," he said thoughtfully, his gaze curious. "But he never explained why."
Ruyan froze for half a second. Her hand stilled mid-air, holding the teacup just inches from her lips. Her gaze flicked to Grandfather Mo.
He told him that? she thought. Her father rarely confided in anyone about his family.
Mo Yichen straightened slightly in his seat. From her background check, he had known she studied medicine, but there were no details beyond her graduation. This was new.
"Why can't you?" he asked, his curiosity overriding his usual restraint.
Ruyan lowered her cup slowly, her expression smooth but distant.
"Some things," she said quietly, "are just not meant to be."
The moment lingered.
Mo Yichen didn't press, though he was even more intrigued now. Her voice hadn't cracked, but something was there. Something heavy.
"But you also have a degree in business, correct?" Grandfather Mo asked, trying to steer the conversation forward.
"Yes," she replied, her tone more neutral now.
"Then perhaps," he continued, "you could work at Mo Corporation. We could use someone like you."
That had been Mo Yichen's idea, of course. His grandfather was merely the mouthpiece. He wanted to bring her into his world, a place where every move required his approval. He wanted to test the limits of her calm, her pride, her resistance.
He wants her to bow in front of him.
"You can work as Yichen's secretary, temporarily," Grandfather explained. "His assistant is on extended leave. You'd be working with secretary Lee for now."
Ruyan's gaze flicked toward Yichen briefly, unreadable. Then she turned back to Grandfather Mo and said with startling ease, "Okay."
Mo Yichen blinked once. That was… easier than expected. A smirk began to form on his lips.
But before he could celebrate her submission, she added coolly, "Let me see the contract first."
The smirk died in his throat.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked sharply, the smooth edge of control in his voice thinning slightly.
Ruyan's gaze didn't waver. She sat with her back straight, legs crossed neatly, and the teacup steady in her hand. Her voice remained soft, but there was iron beneath the silk.
"I'll have my lawyer look at the contract," she repeated. Grandfather Mo looked mildly surprised but said nothing, sipping his tea. Mo Yichen, however, leaned slightly forward, his expression darkening with curiosity.
She didn't look at him, only spoke while stirring her tea. There was a pause.
"I'll add my terms," she said simply.
His brows lifted. "Your terms?" Jaw tightened.
She nodded once.
"9 to 5. No bars. No alcohol. No hotel meetings."
He studied her face. Still blank. Still unreadable.
Yichen arched a brow. "That's a part of the business world, Miss Xia", he says, looking at her. this is the first time he has addressed her by name. but nothing stirs in her.
She replied smoothly. "Let your assistant Lee go where diplomacy involves vodka."
Grandfather Mo chuckled softly behind his teacup, clearly enjoying the back and forth.
"No unsaid rules," she added softly but firmly.
Yichen let out a breath, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. "You think this is a negotiation?"
She looked at him for the first time, just a glance. Calm and Unbothered.
"You offered," she said.
A beat passed. Then she returned her attention to her tea, as if he no longer existed.
Mo Yichen's jaw tightened. The words hit harder than they should have.
"You think I can't run my office without you? Who gave you the guts to put forward such demands?" His voice sharpened, anger barely veiled, even in Grandfather Mo's presence.
Xia Ruyan didn't flinch. Her tone remained indifferent. "It's your offer, not my need."
There was no spite, just truth. Clean and dismissive.
And it burned.
Mo Yichen stared at her, heart thudding with frustration. For a moment, he felt the imbalance. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
He needed her in that office to break her. To tame the cold arrogance she wore like a second skin. To prove that in his world, even a princess bows.
He bit the inside of his cheek, pulling his anger back with effort. Straightening, he adjusted his cuffs with slow precision, schooling his expression into something controlled.
"Very well," he said coolly. "I'll have the terms added. You can cross-check with your lawyer."
A pause.
"You'll start tomorrow."
He turned, his footsteps even, his back straight. But his mind was already spiraling forward.
Countdown begins, princess.
Just a month… and I'll show you exactly who you dared to challenge.