You let the world think I threw myself at you." He didn't flinch. "And now they believe it." She narrowed her eyes. "Why would you let that happen?" He slid a contract across the table. "So I could make you marry me." --- One scandalous moment. One cold billionaire with a reputation to protect. One contract that could ruin them both or bind them tighter than either of them expects. When Mei Yuyan is caught in a viral video with China's most powerful CEO, her quiet world explodes. With the media spinning lies and her grandmother's health on the line, Junhao offers her a way out: marry him and fake the perfect love story. But nothing about Junhao is safe. And Yuyan's past holds secrets even she doesn't know. When another woman shows up claiming to be the real heiress to Yuyan's forgotten name, everything spirals. This marriage was supposed to be fake. But someone's playing a much bigger game. And if Yuyan doesn't uncover the truth, she could lose everything. Including the one man who just might be falling for her. Would you marry the coldest man alive to survive a scandal... only to find out you already belonged to his past?
"Move, girl."
The wine tray jolted in her hands. A camera flash popped. Glass cracked as a flute fell to the floor, splashing red liquid like blood against the marble.
Mei Yuyan froze.
And so did the man she'd crashed into.
He didn't yell or shove.
He just... stared at her.
The room seemed to pulse around them. Quiet, luxurious, suffocating.
He was tall, dressed in a sharply tailored black suit, and his presence made the room tilt slightly off balance. Liang Junhao. She didn't recognize him immediately. But everyone else did.
Then someone snapped the photo.
A moment frozen in time, her blouse stained, her lips parted, his hand loosely bracing her arm like he was catching her mid-fall.
The perfect scandal.
It had started with a favor.
She didn't even want to be at the charity auction. But her friend Lili was working wait staff and begged her to fill in when one of the girls called out sick.
Yuyan needed the extra money.
Her grandmother's meds weren't cheap, and the last hospital bill had taken half her savings.
So, she borrowed a white blouse, tied her hair back, and promised to keep her head down.
She did.
Until now.
"She spilled wine on Mr. Liang."
"Did she just... fall on him?"
"She's not even staff. I've never seen her before."
"Is this some gold-digger stunt?"
People started whispering, the whispers swelled louder than the music.
Yuyan swallowed the burn in her throat. "I'm so sorry, sir," she said quickly, stepping back.
Junhao didn't answer right away.
His eyes were unreadable, calm, cold and calculating.
Then, finally..."You're bleeding."
She blinked.
A shard of glass had sliced her palm.
"Oh." She winced. "It's nothing."
"Security," someone barked.
Before she could turn, two security guards were already approaching.
Yuyan blinked as two men in black suits stepped forward.
Wait...what?
"I didn't do anything," she said quickly, backing up.
Someone murmured, "Isn't she that art student from the community studio?"
"She just threw herself at Liang Junhao."
"She's probably a fan trying to go viral."
"No class."
"She planned this."
No.
No, no, no.
She turned to find Lili, but her friend was already being dragged into a corner by her manager, mouthing sorry behind watery eyes.
And then Junhao's voice cut through the noise.
"Let her go."
Everyone froze.
Junhao didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to.
The guards stepped back instantly.
Yuyan's heart hammered in her chest as he looked at her, really looked. Not with pity. Not with curiosity.
"She's not the problem," he said quietly.
The crowd stilled.
Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.
Yuyan stood there, hand bleeding, face burning, while the weight of elite judgment crushed her from all sides.
She glanced toward Lili, who looked stricken across the room. Her manager was already dragging her back into the kitchen.
Yuyan took a breath, gathered the broken pieces of her dignity, and walked out of the ballroom.
She didn't look back.
By sunrise, the photos were everywhere.
"Mystery Girl in Billionaire's Arms...Scandal at Shanghai Gala?"
"Liang Junhao's Silent Reaction Sparks Dating Rumors"
"Who Is She? Internet Sleuths Dig into Wine-Stained Girl's Identity"
"From Server to Social Climber?"
Just one photo.
And her face was being picked apart in every corner of the internet.
Her phone buzzed non-stop.
Anonymous numbers. DMs. A stranger even left a note on the studio gate: Gold diggers don't deserve sympathy.
Yuyan shut her phone off and curled into the couch beside her sleeping grandmother, trying not to cry.
She'd done nothing wrong.
But in a world built on image, truth was rarely louder than a headline.
Somewhere across the city, Junhao watched the headlines from his office.
His fingers tapped the armrest of his chair once, slowly.
Then he picked up his phone.
"Find out who she is," he said. "Now."
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