Xia Yiran sat stiffly on the velvet chaise in her father's grand study, the cold weight of her mother's glare pressing against her skin. The golden chandelier above cast a warm glow, but the room felt ice-cold. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her dress, her heartbeat thundering in her ears.
Across from her, Xia Guotai, her father, sat behind his massive oak desk, his expression unreadable. Her elder brother, Xia Zhihao, stood at his side, arms crossed, watching her with thinly veiled impatience. Their mother, Jiang Meilin, perched elegantly on a chair near the fireplace, sipping tea as if nothing was amiss.
"You will marry Lu Zeyan tomorrow," her father announced, his voice calm but absolute.
Yiran's breath hitched. Lu Zeyan? The name was wrong. Completely wrong.
"But… Yuxuan—"
"Your sister is gone." Her father's voice was clipped, his irritation barely restrained. "She ran away last night."
Yiran's stomach twisted. It wasn't a complete shock—Yuxuan had always hated the arranged marriage, throwing tantrums whenever the topic arose. But to disappear the night before the wedding?
She turned to her mother for confirmation, but Jiang Meilin simply sighed in exasperation, setting her teacup down with a soft clink.
"Your sister was always ungrateful," she murmured. "Now we have to fix her mess."
Fix her mess? By sacrificing me?
Yiran clenched her hands into fists. "Father, I—"
"You will do this, Yiran." Her father cut her off sharply. "This marriage must happen. The Xia family's reputation is at stake."
Yiran's pulse pounded in her ears. Reputation. Business. Power. That was all that mattered to the Xia family. Never their daughters' happiness.
"But why Lu Zeyan?" she asked, forcing her voice to remain steady. "Wasn't Yuxuan supposed to marry Qin Feng?"
Silence stretched across the room, thick with tension. Her father exchanged a glance with Zhihao, whose expression darkened.
Jiang Meilin let out a sigh and waved her hand dismissively. "Qin Feng is no longer an option."
Yiran's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Zhihao finally spoke, his tone cold. "He disappeared. No one can find him."
Disappeared?
A shiver ran down Yiran's spine. How could the wealthy and reckless heir of the Qin family, infamous for his scandals and extravagant lifestyle, suddenly vanish without a trace?
And why, of all people, was she now being married to Lu Zeyan—a man she knew almost nothing about?
Her father's voice broke through her spiraling thoughts.
"The wedding will proceed as planned. The guests, the media, the entire business world—we cannot afford a scandal. No one must know Yuxuan is gone." His gaze locked onto her, unyielding. "You will wear the veil. You will take your sister's place."
Yiran's blood ran cold.
This wasn't a request. It was a command.
Yiran's throat felt dry.
Take Yuxuan's place? Pretend to be her? Marry a man she had never even met?
Her fingers trembled slightly, but she tightened them into her lap, forcing herself to stay composed. She couldn't show weakness. Not in front of them.
"This is insane," she whispered. "How do you expect me to—"
"You don't have a choice," Zhihao interrupted, his voice cold as steel. "Do you think the Lu family will tolerate a broken engagement? That they will just let this slide?" He scoffed. "They are ruthless, Yiran. If we don't go through with this, we'll be finished."
Her father nodded. "Lu Zeyan is expecting a Xia daughter. He does not care which one."
He does not care which one.
The words hit Yiran like a slap.
That was what she was to them. A replacement. A name on a marriage certificate. Nothing more.
She turned to her mother, desperate for even a shred of concern. "Mother, do you really want me to marry a man I don't even know?"
Jiang Meilin barely looked up from her tea. "It's your duty, Yiran. The Xia family has given you everything—now it's time for you to repay us."
Repay them?
A bitter laugh nearly escaped her lips. When had they ever given her anything other than expectations and obligations?
She sucked in a sharp breath, trying to hold back the anger bubbling inside her. "And what if I refuse?"
Her father leaned back in his chair, watching her like a chess piece he was about to move. "Then you will be disowned."
Silence crashed into the room.
Jiang Meilin sighed dramatically. "Don't be foolish, Yiran. If you walk away, you will have nothing. No home. No family. No future."
Yiran's chest tightened.
Disowned.
She had always been the lesser twin, the one overlooked in favor of Yuxuan. But this… this was different. They weren't just threatening to cast her aside emotionally—they were ready to erase her completely.
She swallowed hard. "And Yuxuan?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. "If she ever comes back, what happens then?"
Her father's expression darkened. "Yuxuan is dead to this family."
Yiran's breath hitched.
Her twin—the golden daughter—was dead to them, just like that? If they could abandon Yuxuan so easily, what would they do to her if she refused?
She suddenly felt trapped. Caged. Like a bird being shoved into a gilded prison with no key.
And the worst part? There was no way out.
Zhihao sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "The wedding is tomorrow. We'll arrange everything. All you have to do is wear the dress, walk down the aisle, and say 'I do.'"
As if it were that simple.
As if it weren't the end of her life.
Yiran's hands trembled as she looked at her father, then at her mother, then at Zhihao. No one would fight for her. No one would save her.
She had always known she was alone in this family.
But now, for the first time, she truly felt it.
Yiran's nails dug into her palms, the sharp sting grounding her.
This was it. There was no argument, no protest that would change their minds. If she refused, she would be thrown away like she never existed. And if she agreed… she would become nothing more than a bride in another woman's place.
The injustice burned inside her.
She had spent her whole life being the obedient daughter, the quiet one, the one who never caused trouble. Yet now, they were forcing her into a marriage she never agreed to—just because Yuxuan had run away.
Did her family even care what would happen to her?
Did Lu Zeyan?
A cold shiver ran down her spine. The Lu family was powerful, and Lu Zeyan's name was whispered with both respect and fear in business circles. Unlike Qin Feng, the notorious playboy, Lu Zeyan was a man of mystery.
He had built the Lu Corporation into an empire, known for his ruthlessness in business and his ability to destroy enemies without mercy.
She knew little else about him. No scandals. No interviews. No unnecessary appearances in high society.
Why would a man like that agree to marry a woman who had just been switched out at the last second?
"Yiran," her father's voice pulled her back. "We don't have time for hesitation."
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
This was it. Her choice.
Freedom meant exile. Marriage meant imprisonment.
She swallowed hard, her throat tightening. "I understand."
A slow smile spread across Jiang Meilin's lips, satisfied. "Good girl."
Zhihao let out a short breath, muttering, "Finally."
But her father only nodded, as if her agreement had been a foregone conclusion. Like she had never even had the right to refuse.
A suffocating silence filled the room.
She had just sealed her fate.
"Tomorrow morning, the wedding will proceed as planned," her father continued, pushing a small envelope toward her. "Your flight to the Lu estate is already arranged. You will stay there until the ceremony."
She stared at the envelope but didn't take it.
"It's best if you don't leave the house until then," Zhihao added. "We can't risk anyone finding out the truth."
A bitter smile tugged at Yiran's lips. The truth.
Her family was treating this like damage control. Not a wedding. Not a union. Just a business deal that had to be cleaned up.
Her mother stood, dusting off her silk dress. "Go get some rest. You have a long day ahead of you."
Jiang Meilin left the study first, gliding out with the air of a queen who had just secured her kingdom.
Zhihao followed after, already pulling out his phone, likely arranging the final wedding details.
Only her father remained, studying her in the dim glow of his office.
"Do not embarrass us, Yiran." His voice was calm, but the weight of it was heavy.
She lifted her chin slightly, forcing herself to look him in the eye. "I never have, have I?"
For the first time, her father's gaze flickered. He didn't answer. He simply turned away, dismissing her without another word.
Yiran exhaled shakily and stood. Her legs felt unsteady, but she forced herself to walk, to keep her head high as she left the study.
The hallway outside was empty, the soft glow of the chandeliers casting long shadows on the marble floors.
Her heart pounded as she reached the staircase, her mind racing.
This was real. In a matter of hours, she would be married to a man she had never even met.
She tightened her grip on the envelope in her hands.
And somewhere deep in her gut, an uneasy feeling took root.
Who exactly was Lu Zeyan… and why did he agree to this?
Yiran shut the door to her bedroom and pressed her back against it, exhaling a shaky breath.
Her room, usually a place of quiet refuge, felt suffocating tonight. The soft lavender scent from the candles on her dresser now felt sickly sweet. The gold-trimmed vanity mirror reflected a girl who no longer looked like herself—shoulders tense, eyes hollow, lips pressed into a thin line.
She wasn't Xia Yiran anymore. She was a stand-in. A replacement. A girl about to be married to a man she had never met.
Her fingers tightened around the envelope her father had given her. Inside was likely a set of instructions—her new identity as Xia Yuxuan, the perfect bride.
Her stomach twisted.
No.
She wasn't her sister. She wasn't the golden daughter who got to run away and live freely while she was left behind to pick up the pieces.
Her eyes flicked toward the window.
Could she still escape?
If she left now, she could disappear before sunrise. The world was big—bigger than the walls of the Xia family, bigger than the suffocating life they had planned for her.
Her pulse quickened at the thought.
She could run.
Right now.
But just as the idea solidified in her mind, a sudden knock at the door made her jolt.
She quickly hid the envelope under a book on her nightstand. "Yes?"
The door cracked open, and a maid stepped inside, her expression uneasy. "Miss Yiran, I brought you some tea."
Yiran frowned. The maids rarely came into her room at night unless—
She glanced at the tray. The tea was already poured, steaming faintly in the dim light.
They were making sure she didn't try anything.
Her father and Zhihao had anticipated her thoughts.
Yiran forced a small smile. "Thank you."
The maid hesitated as if she wanted to say something, but after a brief pause, she simply nodded and left.
As the door clicked shut, Yiran let out a slow breath.
She wasn't going to escape.
She never had a choice.
She walked over to the window and stared out at the dark city skyline, its glowing lights stretching endlessly beyond her reach. Somewhere out there, Yuxuan was free.
And Yiran? She was being sent into a cage of gold.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, pushing down the rising emotions. Crying wouldn't change anything.
Turning away, she moved toward her bed, but as she passed the doorway, something caught her attention.
Voices.
Low, hushed voices coming from the hallway.
She stilled.
Zhihao. And someone else.
She pressed herself against the door, straining to listen.
"…I don't understand why Lu Zeyan agreed to this," Zhihao was saying, his voice sharp with irritation. "He's not the type to accept a last-minute bride swap."
A second voice—her father's—answered, quieter but firm. "Because he needs this marriage just as much as we do."
Yiran's heart skipped a beat.
Needs it?
What did that mean?
She had assumed she was the one being forced into this marriage. But if Lu Zeyan needed it too…
Her father continued, "This deal is more than just a marriage. You'll see soon enough."
Then there was a pause.
And then Zhihao said something that made the blood in Yiran's veins run cold.
"But does she know what she's walking into?"
Silence.
Then her father's voice, quiet and final:
"She doesn't need to."
Yiran's breath hitched.
She had known this marriage was a trap. But now, it felt like something even worse.
What exactly had she been sold into?
The morning came too soon.
Xia Yiran sat motionless as a team of stylists surrounded her, their hands moving with mechanical precision. Curling irons twisted her long black hair into soft waves, layers of powder and lipstick erased the last remnants of herself, transforming her into Xia Yuxuan.
No one spoke to her.
No one asked if she was ready.
Because it didn't matter.
A seamstress adjusted the delicate lace of her wedding gown, ensuring it fit perfectly—a gown that was never meant for her.
Everything about this day belonged to someone else.
She barely recognized the woman staring back at her in the vanity mirror. Her reflection was flawless—elegant, composed, a perfect bride. But beneath the surface, her hands trembled slightly in her lap, hidden under the layers of white silk.
She was being dressed for sacrifice.
A light knock on the door broke the silence.
Zhihao stepped inside, glancing over her with a scrutinizing gaze. "Good. At least you look the part."
Yiran met his eyes through the mirror. "And if I didn't?"
He smirked. "Then we'd have a problem, wouldn't we?"
She said nothing.
He stepped closer, adjusting the veil that covered half her face. "Remember, Yiran, from the moment you step into that venue, you are Xia Yuxuan. Do not speak unless spoken to. Do not embarrass us."
His tone was light, almost casual. But beneath it was a warning—one she dared not ignore.
Yiran exhaled slowly, gripping the edge of the vanity table. Her fate was sealed.
A few hours later, she was in the car, the city passing by in a blur beyond the tinted windows.
The wedding was being held at a private Lu family estate, hidden away in the hills. The venue was secluded, exclusive—far from the public eye.
Far from an easy escape.
As the car slowed to a stop, Yiran's stomach twisted.
The door opened. A faceless assistant extended a hand to her, but she barely noticed. Her mind was blank, her body moving on instinct as she stepped out onto the marble steps of the grand estate.
She barely registered the golden chandeliers, the hundreds of high-society guests, the soft murmur of voices as she walked past them.
All she could feel was the cold weight of the veil against her skin.
And then—
The doors to the grand hall opened.
The music started.
And suddenly, she was walking down the aisle.
The moment stretched endlessly. The world blurred around her. But then—
She saw him.
At the end of the aisle stood Lu Zeyan.
Dressed in a sharp black suit, he was taller than she expected, his posture straight, commanding, unreadable. His face—cold, perfectly chiseled, dark eyes void of emotion—gave nothing away.
There was no warmth in his gaze. No curiosity.
Just an unreadable silence as he watched her approach.
He had agreed to this marriage. But why?
And more importantly—
What kind of man had she just been given to?