The Imperial Hotel's Grand Ballroom glittered with luxury. A sea of high society elites, dressed in designer gowns and tailored suits, moved gracefully under the glow of golden chandeliers. The clink of crystal glasses, soft murmurs of business deals, and polite laughter filled the air.
For Xia Ruolan, this was a world she had no place in.
Yet here she was—balancing a heavy silver tray, wearing an ill-fitting uniform, and trying her hardest to stay invisible.
She adjusted the stiff white collar of her borrowed waitress uniform, feeling out of place among the towering, diamond-clad women and powerful businessmen. This job was temporary, a last-minute favor from her friend's cousin.
Just one night. Serve drinks, keep your head down, and don't mess up.
Her tuition was due next month, and with her mother's hospital bills piling up, every yuan counted. She couldn't afford mistakes.
But fate had never been kind to Xia Ruolan.
She turned a corner, heading toward the bar to grab another tray of drinks when—
Crash!
A firm body collided into hers, sending her tray flying. A full glass of red wine tipped over, its contents spilling in a deep crimson flood.
The room fell silent.
Ruolan's heart stopped.
The wine had landed directly on a man's crisp, white designer suit.
A slow, suffocating tension filled the space as she looked up—straight into a pair of cold, piercing dark eyes.
Li Yichen.
The CEO of Li Group.
The most powerful man in the country, known for his ruthless business tactics, emotionless gaze, and zero tolerance for incompetence.
The man whose entire chest was now stained with red wine… because of her.
Ruolan's throat went dry.
A sharp inhale from the surrounding guests made her realize the severity of the situation. Some whispered behind their champagne glasses. Others watched in morbid fascination.
"Oh my God… isn't that a custom-made suit?"
"Is she insane? That's Li Yichen."
"She's finished. No one survives offending him."
Ruolan forced herself to speak. "I—I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—"
Before she could finish, the air around them dropped in temperature.
Li Yichen's gaze trailed down to his ruined suit, then back up at her. His expression was unreadable, but his presence was suffocating.
The dim ballroom lights reflected off his sharp jawline, the slight furrow in his brow making his features look even colder than usual.
"Who," he said, his voice low and controlled, "let you in here?"
Ruolan swallowed. "I—I'm just a waitress. It was an accident—"
"A waitress." He repeated the word slowly, as if testing how it sounded in his mouth.
Then, he exhaled softly, pinching the bridge of his nose. The movement was subtle, but it sent an unmistakable message: he was irritated.
"This suit," he finally said, flicking the fabric where the stain spread across his chest, "is worth more than your annual salary."
Ruolan flinched.
The murmurs around them grew. Amusement. Pity. Judgment.
She clenched her fists, anger bubbling beneath her humiliation. I get that you're mad, but do you have to be such an arrogant jerk?
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to remain calm. "I truly didn't mean to spill the wine, Mr. Li. If there's anything I can do to—"
"Compensate?" His lips curled into a smirk, but it held no warmth. "Can you afford to?"
Ruolan froze.
No, she couldn't. She barely had enough to cover her rent next month.
But she hated how he looked at her—like she was insignificant. Like she was just another disposable nuisance in his perfect world.
A spark of defiance flared in her chest.
She squared her shoulders, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "I don't know the cost of your suit, but I'll figure something out. You don't have to humiliate me."
The crowd collectively sucked in a breath.
Did she just… talk back to Li Yichen?
For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—surprise. As if he hadn't expected her to have the nerve to challenge him.
The tension between them tightened.
Then, slowly, he took a step forward.
Ruolan instinctively stepped back.
But he didn't stop.
Another step.
Then another.
Until there was no space left between them.
Her back hit the marble pillar behind her, and her pulse spiked.
He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against her ear. "You want to compensate me?"
Ruolan swallowed.
He pulled back just enough to study her reaction.
Then, in a voice so low only she could hear, he said:
"Then work for me."
Ruolan's heart slammed against her ribs.
Wait. What?
Work for him? As what?
Before she could process his words, a sharp voice interrupted.
"Yichen."
A tall, elegant woman in a silver gown stepped forward. Mo Qianyu—Li Yichen's ex-fiancée.
Her gaze flickered to Ruolan, eyes filled with undisguised disdain.
"Why are you wasting time with… her?" Qianyu asked, her tone polite but cutting. "She's just a waitress. Let security handle it."
Ruolan stiffened.
Before she could respond, Li Yichen's gaze darkened.
"Do I look like I need someone to tell me what to do?" His tone was lethal.
Mo Qianyu paled slightly. "That's not what I meant, I just—"
"Then leave."
His command was absolute.
Ruolan didn't know what shocked her more—the fact that he just shut down his ex-fiancée in front of everyone or the fact that his attention was still on her.
She could feel the weight of his gaze, assessing her reaction.
Did he… find this entertaining?
He stepped back at last, giving her space. "I'll give you a choice, Miss Xia."
The way he said her name made her shiver.
"One, I send the bill for this suit to your employer, and you can deal with the consequences yourself."
Ruolan's breath caught. If that happened, she would lose her job instantly.
"Or," he continued, "you can work for me directly to compensate for your mistake."
She stared at him. "What… kind of work?"
His smirk returned. "You'll find out soon enough."
Ruolan's stomach dropped.
Was this some cruel joke?
Work for Li Yichen?
She should say no.
She should run.
But when she met his gaze—calm, expectant, utterly unreadable—she knew.
This man wouldn't take no for an answer.
And just like that…
Xia Ruolan's fate was sealed.