I didn't sleep that night.
Even with my apartment silent and the city humming faintly outside the window, my thoughts were louder, Louder than Wu Zihan's voice, Louder than the memory of his eyes, steady and sincere across the auction floor.
The press release sat on the table beside me like a loaded gun.
One signature, one headline, one irrevocable change.
I stared at it until dawn.
By noon, the press had already gotten wind of something.
#WuZihanMarriageConfirmed was trending in every corner of Weibo.
I didn't post a thing.
I didn't call him but when I stepped into the gallery that afternoon, people were watching me differently like I wasn't just Li Xue — gallery assistant, occasional curator.
I was "her."
"Li Xue, there's a delivery for you," Yingjie whispered, half-smiling as she gestured to the front desk.
Another black box.
My stomach dropped until I saw the card.
This time, the writing wasn't delicate and elegant.
It was messy, sharp and unstable.
"You can play house all you want but you'll never be his equal.
You don't know who I am, but I know everything about you."
I crumpled the card, heart pounding, and stormed into the back room.
"Yingjie, can you cover for me?" I asked, barely keeping my voice level.
"Of course. Where are you—?"
"I need to handle something."
Zihan's office was quieter than I'd expected.
When I arrived, his secretary stood up quickly. "Miss Li, he's in a meeting, but I can—"
"He'll want to see me."
I didn't wait for her to buzz in. I pushed open the door.
Inside, Zihan sat with three senior partners. They stopped mid-discussion the second they saw me.
His brows knit. "Li Xue?"
I walked straight to his desk and tossed the note down.
"I don't care what she's threatening, or how subtle she tries to be. This ends now."
He stared at the paper, jaw locked.
Then he stood. "Gentlemen, we'll continue this later."
They filed out quietly.
The moment the door clicked shut, Zihan picked up the card and read it again, slower.
"She's unhinged," I said. "And I'm done playing the silent, obedient 'fake wife.'"
His eyes flicked up to mine. "You were never obedient."
"Don't joke."
"I'm not."
He rounded the desk and came to stand in front of me.
"I'm going to take care of her."
"She's not going to stop until she ruins me."
"She can't ruin what she doesn't control."
I looked away. "She almost made me doubt myself again, made me feel like I didn't belong next to you like I was disposable."
"You're not."
I laughed bitterly. "A year ago, I was just a background extra in your world."
"Not anymore."
Zihan's voice dropped lower. "Do you want me to go public with everything? The truth about our marriage?"
I hesitated.
"Because I will," he said. "I'll tell the world it started as fake, but now—"
"Don't."
"Why?"
"Because I don't know if I'm ready to say it's not fake."
The silence between us was immediate and heavy.
"I don't mean it like that," I said quickly, "but I need time. I need space to figure out whether I love you… or whether I'm just clinging to the first man who saw me."
He flinched and I hated myself for it but I had to be honest.
"I need time," I said softly.
He stepped back, just slightly, like giving me space hurt him more than holding me ever could.
"Then I'll wait."
I looked at him.
"What?"
"I'll wait," he repeated. "As long as it takes."
The next day, Yingjie called me to her office.
She was pacing, phone pressed to her ear.
"Li Xue, you have a visitor."
"I'm not expecting anyone—"
"She said it's about the auction. She's from the press."
My stomach twisted.
I stepped into the front room and froze.
Liang Yunmei stood near the display window, wearing a pastel trench coat and a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Hello, Mrs. Wu," she said sweetly.
Yingjie raised her brows.
"She's not my guest," I said tightly.
"I'll leave you two alone," Yingjie muttered and quickly disappeared.
"What do you want, Yunmei?"
She walked closer, calm and slow, like a predator pretending to be tame.
"You stole my life."
I crossed my arms. "You mean the one you imagined in your head? Zihan was never yours."
"We were supposed to be married. Our companies—our families—everyone expected it."
"Except Zihan."
Her smile cracked. "He's always been duty-first. He would've chosen me but you poisoned him."
I almost laughed. "If loving someone is poison, then maybe he needed to be sick."
Her eyes flashed. "You don't belong in his world."
"I'm already in it."
She took a step closer, voice a whisper. "You're playing house, but Zihan doesn't let women in. Not really. Ask yourself — does he love you, or does he feel responsible for you?"
I stared at her, pulse racing.
"You know the answer," she said.
I swallowed hard. "I don't need to prove anything to you."
"No," she said, smile returning. "But you'll have to prove something to yourself and that's going to hurt more."
She left without another word.
That night, I found Zihan waiting outside my building.
He didn't say anything at first just stood there, his presence a silent comfort.
"I saw her," I whispered.
He nodded like he already knew.
"She thinks you'll get tired of me."
He took a step forward. "I won't."
"She thinks I'm just convenient."
"You're everything but convenient," he said. "You drive me insane, you challenge me, you see me when no one else does."
I stared at him, every part of me conflicted.
"I'm scared," I whispered.
"So am I," he replied. "But I'm not walking away."
He held out his hand and this time… I didn't hesitate.