The rain hit the pavement like whispered secrets—soft but steady, soaking through the city’s usual noise and neon. It was the kind of night Mei Lin liked best. The kind where no one paid attention. The kind where she could vanish between streetlamps, wrapped in shadows and the scent of wet earth.

Her shift at Tea Garden Café had run an hour too long. Again.

The old man who owned the place didn’t care that the electricity flickered, or that the gutters outside were overflowing. As long as Mei Lin smiled at customers and refilled the jasmine teapots, she was useful. Replaceable. Forgettable.

Just how she wanted it.

She tightened the knot of her thin scarf, pulled her hoodie over her head, and stepped out into the rain. The street was mostly empty—only a few late-night cyclists swerving through puddles and a sleeping stray curled under a noodle stand. Neon lights from the karaoke bar across the street reflected in the puddles like fractured stars.

She took three steps. And then she heard it.

A crash. Glass shattering. Heavy footsteps slamming the pavement. Her body froze, instincts screaming don’t move. But her eyes—curious, foolish—looked.

A man stumbled out of the alley to her left. Young, barely older than her. Blood ran down his sleeve, staining his white shirt a deep, awful red. He looked over his shoulder once—then limped past her without a word.

And that’s when he appeared.

The second figure moved with deliberate calm. No limp. No panic. Just… presence. The kind that made the air thinner. He wore a long black coat, glistening with rain. His dress shirt, dry beneath it, clung to his chest like armor. His face was carved from marble—sharp cheekbones, smooth jawline, lips unsmiling. But it was his eyes that made Mei Lin forget how to breathe.

Cold. Dark. Commanding. Like he saw everything and judged it already.

He stopped just a few feet away. Right in front of her.

“You saw nothing.”

His voice was low. Velvet wrapped around steel. No emotion, but somehow it still made her skin tingle.

“I—I was just leaving,” Mei Lin said, stepping back. Her fingers gripped her umbrella like it could save her.

His eyes flicked down to it. Then back up to her.

“You work here?”

“Yes.” Her voice was smaller than she liked.

He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. His gaze felt like a blade pressed to her neck—testing, not cutting. Yet.

“You’re not afraid,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

Mei Lin swallowed hard. “I didn’t say that.”

Something flickered across his face. Not quite a smile—just the barest twitch of one corner of his mouth. Amusement? Curiosity?

“Name,” he said.

She blinked. “What?”

“Your name.”

She hesitated. He waited.

“…Mei Lin.”

He repeated it softly, like tasting it.

“Pretty name. Don’t get yourself killed using it in places like this.”

“I didn’t—” she started, but he was already turning.

Then he paused.

“Tell your boss to close early tomorrow.”

“What? Why?”

He didn’t answer. Just walked off into the darkness like he belonged to it. And the alley swallowed him whole.

Mei Lin stood there long after the silence returned, the rain still falling.

Her heart hammered inside her chest, even though nothing had happened.

But something had. She felt it.

There was something terrifying about the way he looked at her. Not with lust. Not even threat. It was like she’d been marked—seen in a way no one had ever seen her before. And now, she couldn’t hide.

She didn’t know his name. She didn’t know what he’d done.

But she knew this much:

She should’ve been scared.

And yet… part of her wasn’t.

The bell above the café door jingled like it always did, soft and sweet. But this time, the sound made Mei Lin flinch.

She wasn’t even sure why. It had been a full day since the encounter in the alley. She told herself it was over. That maybe he’d just been some powerful stranger doing dirty business and that she was lucky to walk away.

But the memory of his eyes said otherwise.

It had clung to her all night—the way he looked at her, not like prey, but like a puzzle. And puzzles don’t get left unsolved.

“Mei Lin, table four,” her coworker nudged.

She blinked. “Right. Sorry.”

She grabbed the tray, tea still steaming, and turned toward the booth by the window. And stopped dead.

He was sitting there.

Xian Yu.

Same black coat. Same motionless calm. But this time, he looked... sharper. Even more out of place in the soft yellow light of the café. The other customers were chatting, laughing. No one else noticed the storm sitting silently in the corner.

But Mei Lin did.

She walked over slowly, heart thumping against her ribs like it wanted out.

“You followed me,” she said without thinking.

He looked up. His eyes scanned her face like he was checking to see if she still remembered who he was. Or if she was pretending not to.

“I came to see you,” he replied. Calm. Casual.

Mei Lin’s breath caught.

“I don’t know you,” she whispered.

“No. But you will.” He leaned back in the seat. “Eventually.”

A hundred questions burned in her throat, but none of them made it out. Her body was moving on autopilot—setting down the tea, adjusting the sugar jar, because that was safe. That was normal.

“What do you want?”

He pulled something from his coat pocket. A black phone. Unmarked. Clean.

He set it gently on the table between them like it was a gift. Or a warning.

“If anything strange happens,” he said, “you use this. Only this.”

Mei Lin frowned. “Strange like what?”

“Like people watching you. Following you. Asking the wrong questions.”

Her stomach turned. “You said I wasn’t in danger.”

“You weren’t. Yesterday.”

She stared at the phone like it might explode. “I’m not part of your world.”

“I know.” His tone softened—just slightly. “That’s the problem.”

Their eyes locked. And for a moment, it felt like the air in the room had been sucked away. Her hands were cold, but her skin burned under his gaze.

“I’m not your responsibility,” she said.

Xian Yu stood slowly. Every movement quiet, deliberate.

“People saw us talking,” he said. “That makes you vulnerable.”

“Then you should’ve left me alone.”

For the first time, something flickered in his expression. Not guilt. Not regret. Something deeper.

“I tried.”

And with that, he walked out—vanishing into the afternoon drizzle like he had the night before. The bell jingled again behind him. This time it sounded like a warning.

---

Mei Lin didn’t go home right after work.

She took the long way. Down backstreets. Through crowds. Her hoodie up, eyes sharp. Every sound made her jump. She kept checking her phone. Not the black one—her real one.

But no texts came.

No calls.

Nothing strange.

Until she reached her apartment door.

A single white envelope was taped there.

No stamp. No name. Just her.

With trembling fingers, she opened it. Inside, one line was typed in bold black font.

“You’re being watched. Stay away from him if you want to live.”

Her knees weakened. Her heart thudded so hard it hurt.

She didn’t even notice she was gripping the black phone in her coat pocket until her fingers brushed the keypad.

For a long second, she stared at it.

Then… she dialed.

---

Rain slid down the windows of Mei Lin’s apartment as she stood frozen in her kitchen, the black phone still in her hand. The call had lasted only seconds. One ring, then a voice.

"Don’t open the door unless you see me."

She hadn’t told him where she lived. She hadn’t needed to.

Minutes later, he was there.

Xian Yu didn’t knock. He simply waited, tall and unmoving in the hallway outside her door, a shadow carved in black, his gaze unreadable. She opened it slowly, unsure if she was inviting in danger or something worse—an answer.

He stepped inside without a word, bringing the scent of rain and smoke with him. The apartment was too small for someone like him. He didn’t belong in places with peeling paint and humming fridges. Yet he made it his.

Mei Lin placed the envelope on the table between them. “This was taped to my door.”

He read the note silently, then set it down and looked at her. Not at the paper. Not at the apartment. At her.

“You weren’t followed?”

She shook her head. "I don’t think so."

“Then someone is watching you from inside.”

She frowned. “Inside what?”

“My world.”

That phrase sent a chill down her spine.

He leaned back slightly, arms crossed. “They think you matter to me. That you’re leverage.”

“I’m not.”

“I know.”

Silence.

He tapped his fingers against the edge of the table. “But they don’t.”

Mei Lin let out a shaky breath. “Why not just cut me off? Pretend I’m nothing to you?”

“I did.” His voice was low. “It didn’t work.”

She looked at him for a long moment, searching for something human behind that perfectly controlled face. "What do you want from me, Xian Yu?"

He didn’t blink. "I want you safe. And for that to happen, you have to come under my protection."

She stared. “You mean like… live in a guarded house? Hide?”

“No. I mean something more public. Something they won’t question.”

She folded her arms. “Like what?”

“Be seen with me. In public. Appear to be mine. For a time.”

Her stomach flipped. "What does that even mean?"

“Pretend to be my personal assistant. Attend events. Stay close. Appear valuable. If they think you’re under my protection, they won’t touch you.”

She gaped at him. “Pretend to be yours?”

His eyes darkened slightly. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

She stared, heart pounding.

“This isn’t a relationship,” he said evenly. “It’s a deal. A front. A shield.”

“And what do you get out of it?”

His voice dipped lower. "Peace of mind."

Mei Lin turned away, walking toward the window. Rain glowed silver beneath the streetlights. The idea was insane. Dangerous. Impossible.

And yet…

Something deep inside her stirred. Not desire. Not yet. But curiosity. A pull. An ache.

“I have a life,” she said softly. “A job.”

He nodded. “You’ll keep them. I won’t interfere unless I have to. But there will be rules.”

“Of course there will be.”

He stepped closer. Not touching her. Just there.

“You’ll wear what I provide when we’re in public. You’ll stay within range of my people. You’ll speak only to those I approve during events.”

She turned to face him. “So I’ll be your pretty little puppet?”

“No.” His voice sharpened. “You’ll be my decoy. And my responsibility."

Mei Lin swallowed hard. “And when it’s over?”

His gaze held hers. "You walk away."

Simple. Cold. Final.

She looked down at her hands. They were trembling.

Then, softly: “Okay. Deal.”

---

The next day, her world tilted.

A sleek black car waited outside the café at noon. Xiao Rui, Mei Lin’s best friend and favorite gossiper, leaned over the counter and grinned.

"Are you secretly dating a CEO?" she whispered.

Mei Lin forced a laugh. “Definitely not.”

“Liar. He’s hot. And rich. And has ‘danger’ written all over him.”

Mei Lin glanced at the tinted windows of the car. She could feel him watching.

“I’ll tell you later,” she said.

In the car, silence reigned. Xian Yu didn’t speak. Didn’t explain where they were going. He simply handed her a small black envelope.

Inside was a card:

Zhen Yuan Society Charity Gala

Tonight. 8 PM. Dress provided.

She stared. “A gala?”

He didn’t look at her. “You’ll meet people. Learn their names. Watch how they move. You’ll be tested.”

“Tested?”

“If you’re going to wear my name, they’ll try to break you.”

She glanced at him. “Why not just bring someone trained? A professional?”

He looked at her then. Slowly. Quietly. "Because I don’t trust them."

Her breath caught.

That night, she stood in the mirror wearing a crimson silk dress that fit like a second skin. It had been tailored perfectly to her figure, and the black choker around her neck sparkled with a dragon-shaped pendant.

A car was waiting again. This time, when she entered, Xian Yu’s eyes flicked over her for a split second before returning to the window.

“You clean up well,” he murmured.

Her heart skipped.

The gala was held in an ancient palace restored into a luxury venue. The steps gleamed. Guards stood like statues. Inside, violins played over murmured threats and expensive perfume.

They entered together.

All eyes turned.

He didn’t introduce her as anything. He didn’t have to. His hand resting lightly on the small of her back said enough.

She belonged to him.

For tonight.

And in this deadly world of silk and shadows—that made her dangerous.