8:00 p.m., Serenity Exclusive Estates
A well-manicured hand, adorned with a luxury watch, gently pressed the dipper, turning the matte gray Lexus LS 500 smoothly into the driveway of Serenity Exclusive Estates. Hidden in the north of the city, Serenity Exclusive Estates wasn't just a place to live—it was a status symbol, a world reserved for those whose influence and prestige towered above mere wealth. Entry to this exclusive sanctuary was not a right but a privilege. Here, status roared louder than wealth, and simply owning a villa was a testament to one's untouchable position in the world.
After a brief drive, the car arrived at Villa Celeste, a house that embodied both elegance and isolation. Its immaculate design, and pristine gardens were enough to draw breath from anyone passing by. Flanking the elevated serene path to the main entrance on the upper ground was a cascading wall waterfall, the soft sound of water blending seamlessly with the tranquility of the estate. Yet, as footsteps echoed softly on the lit pathway, the villa's grandeur seemed almost unnoticed.
Han Xue's face, softly lit by the path lights, radiated a quiet, effortless beauty. Delicate features framed by silky hair, and minimalist diamond earrings sparkled against her flawless skin. As the CEO of one of the country's top fashion companies and a celebrated prodigy, her elegance was undeniable. Though fatigue tugged at her, both physically and emotionally, her poised demeanor remained intact—polished and unshakable, just like the designs she championed.
She walked toward Villa Celeste with measured grace, her surroundings a testament to a life of prestige she had earned yet seldom paused to admire. The cascading waterfall and manicured gardens blurred into the background, their perfection no longer remarkable to someone accustomed to a life where even the extraordinary was routine.
But no amount of luxury could fill the void in her heart, the loneliness that had crept in over three long years of marriage.
The servants, led by Aunty Yang and Butler Chen, greeted her with the usual warmth as she stepped inside, but today there was a new face among them—Liena. Han Xue offered a perfunctory smile, the kind she had perfected over time. Too exhausted to engage in conversation, she made her way up the grand staircase, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor, the only sound echoing through the vast emptiness of the house.
Halfway up the stairs, she heard a voice call after her. "Madam, would you like dinner?"
She opened her mouth to decline. Her exhaustion was overwhelming, and food was the last thing on her mind. But before she could answer, a servant whispered words that made her freeze mid-step.
"Sir's car has just arrived!"
Her heart skipped a beat. Zi Haoran's home.
After so many nights spent waiting, why tonight? Why? Could it be for her? Or was it merely another performance, a facade for their parents, like so many times before? Suddenly alert, she hurried upstairs, her hands trembling as she quickly freshened up. The anxiety of his presence had flustered her and her hands trembled as she slipped into a rose-gold silk pajama set that clung to her delicate frame, the soft fabric enhancing her already exquisite beauty. Yet, as she stared at her reflection, all she could see was the uncertainty in her eyes. She appeared almost ageless, a youthful figure who belied her 24 years. However, her face held a weariness carrying the weight of a woman who had long matured beyond her years.
He's home early… after so long. Why?
Maybe tonight he would finally see her—not as a business arrangement, not as a duty—but as his wife.
With a nervous breath, she descended the stairs, her steps faltering as she entered the dining room.
The dining table, set with a single set of tableware, stood as a quiet testament to the loneliness that had crept into their home. Han Xue absent-mindedly took the seat where the tableware was arranged, her thoughts a whirlwind. Liena approached, looking slightly confused.
"Shall I serve dinner to you as well, Madam?" Liena asked.
Han Xue nodded. The significance of the moment wasn't lost on her, but she couldn't articulate why she had decided to eat tonight.
In the kitchen, Liena's confusion echoed.
"Madam is acting strange tonight," Liena whispered.
Aunty Yang glanced knowingly toward the dining room. "No, it's because Sir is home."
Butler Chen chimed in. "Madam still cares for him. But for some reason… they don't talk anymore."
"Why?" Liena asked innocently.
Butler Chen sighed, "Not sure. In the early days, at least they spoke."
The clattering of footsteps on the wooden floor announced Zi Haoran's arrival. His steps slowed as they transitioned to the carpet of the dining area. Han Xue lifted her gaze slowly, her breath catching in her throat. Under the warm chandelier light, his flawless features seemed almost ethereal, sharp and defined—handsome enough to shame the most sought-after models. His dark eyes, deep and unreadable, seemed to bore into her, sending a shiver down her spine. His presence alone could silence a room, his aura commanding respect, fear, and awe all at once.
Han Xue swallowed, her throat dry. She forced herself to stand, her voice shaky as she greeted him. "You… came."
Zi Haoran, still dressed in his office attire, had shed his coat, and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing the strong forearms that added to his intimidating presence. His expression, however, remained emotionless, the coldness in his eyes impenetrable.
"Mhm," he responded, his deep voice a low hum as he glanced at her, sizing her up with that same detached gaze. Then, without another word, he sat at the table.
Han Xue's mind raced as she sat down again, her fingers trembling. There was something different about him tonight, something she couldn't place. His mood was colder, more distant. She wondered, what is going on with him tonight?
Butler Chen came to serve them food, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension. As always, the silence between husband and wife was suffocating, punctuated only by the clink of cutlery against plates. But Zi Haoran's gaze kept drifting toward her, making her feel exposed, vulnerable. She shifted uncomfortably, her nerves getting the better of her. Why was he staring? What did he want from her?
Unable to bear the weight of his gaze any longer, she excused herself from the table, her movements hurried and clumsy. Her heart raced as she fled to the safety of her room, but the questions followed her. Had he finally noticed her after all these years? Or was it something else? In her room, she stared into the mirror, checking her appearance.
But in the dining room, Zi Haoran watched her retreating figure, his thoughts clouded. She's still avoiding me. She still can't stand to be near me. He couldn't shake the bitterness gnawing at him. After all, her heart belongs to someone else.
Determined to get answers, he rose to his feet and silently followed her upstairs, his steps echoing through the empty halls. For years, he had kept his distance, emotionally cold and indifferent to the woman he called his wife. He had never ventured beyond the familiar path that led to his master bedroom or the private library where he spent most of his time. Now, as he walked down the unfamiliar hallway toward Han Xue's room—the second largest in the house—he was struck by a sense of emptiness. The villa, once a symbol of their status and power, felt vast and hollow, as if reflecting the chasm between them.
Stopping in front of her door, he hesitated only briefly before delivering two firm, deliberate knocks.