A tall, commanding figure stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
His lean, well-proportioned body was wrapped in a perfectly tailored suit. The fabric didn’t hide the toned definition of his frame—it only served to enhance a kind of cold, restrained beauty.
The man’s deep-set eyes were fixed on a faraway skyline. But his gaze lacked focus, as if lost in thought.
On the oversized, sleek office desk nearby, a thick stack of documents was spread out. At the very top lay a photo of a young man—refined and elegant in appearance.
The man slowly walked over and sat in the leather chair behind the desk. He picked up the photo, and a low, velvety baritone broke the silence:
“Pretty good-looking.”
He began flipping through the stack of papers, page by page, reading everything thoroughly. After a while, he pressed the intercom.
“Xiao Wu, come in.”
Moments later, a tall, broad-shouldered young man stepped into the room. His face was expressionless, posture respectful.
“Young Master, you called?”
Still holding the last page and glancing again at the photo, the man asked flatly,
“This is everything?”
Xiao Wu immediately understood what he meant.
“Yes, sir. All the information was personally verified by Da Zhou. Nothing should be missing.”
The man gave a soft “Mm.” If Da Zhou had looked into it personally, it was likely accurate.
His eyes paused over a certain line in the file.
“Tell Da Zhou to look into the Mu Yi clan. I want results—fast.”
“Yes, sir.” Xiao Wu bowed and waited a moment, then silently exited when no further orders came. He went off to find Da Zhou.
In all the years they’d known the young master, none of them had ever seen him this invested in someone. This was someone the Old Madam herself had hand-picked as a future spouse—on paper, just an insignificant, neglected young heir from the Yin family. Yet when Da Zhou presented the investigation results, the young master had smiled. Actually smiled—and even muttered, “Interesting guy.”
It had nearly made Da Zhou’s jaw drop. Not because of the person being investigated, but because the young master had smiled. Those who had followed him since childhood had never seen him smile. Not like that.
Back in the vast office, the man still sat there, expressionless, holding the photo as thoughts raced through his mind—details from the file about the young man who was soon to become his… husband.
He Changning, twenty years old. 180 cm tall, 68 kg.
The third young master of the Yin family. His mother had been Yin Zhiyan’s first wife. When He Changning was barely two, she committed suicide by jumping off a building. Not long after, the mistress officially took her place. Since then, He Changning was raised by a servant, Aunt Qin—someone with no real standing in the household.
Growing up, he was almost invisible in the Yin family. A quiet, well-behaved child that few paid attention to.
In school, his stunning looks—comparable to the legendary Pan An—once caused a swarm of admirers to chase after him. But his academic acceleration left most of them in the dust. By the time others were preparing to confess their feelings, he had already graduated college and was lazing around at home.
Within the Yin household, he kept his head down. Never caused trouble. Rarely acknowledged. But this seemed deliberate—something he had orchestrated. The occasional flare-up of presence was likely just to annoy certain people.
But that was only the surface. He Changning had another identity—one nobody would have ever guessed.
Online, he was known as Qingshui Zhunián (Clear Waters Through the Years), a famously low-profile author. His breakout novel That Year of Ours had exploded overnight, racking up over a million hits. Every work since had been a critical and commercial success, drawing swarms of die-hard fans.
Last year, he published his first detective novel, My World, and the initial print run of 100,000 copies sold out in under two months. A second printing of 20,000 also vanished in no time. The royalties alone must’ve been astronomical. Yet hardly anyone had ever seen his face. Just like his writing, the man himself stayed deeply out of the spotlight.
But low-profile or not, that didn’t mean he could hide from Shang Yushang, not anymore—not when he was about to become his spouse.
The file noted his exceptional linguistic abilities, which explained his writing success. Publishing houses were dying to sign him, media companies were begging to work with him. But he rejected them all, saying he was “too lazy to work a 9-to-5 job” and didn’t want to be a burden.
“Childish excuse,” Shang Yushang muttered, though a chuckle escaped his lips.
He blinked, surprised to find himself smiling again.
Maybe… just maybe, life was about to get interesting.
Meanwhile, the man in question—He Changning—had no idea he was on anyone’s mind.
He was lounging in a recliner on the balcony, a book draped over his face, half-dozing in the late afternoon sun. He wasn’t stressing over the whole marriage thing anymore. After all, his philosophy was simple: Cross that bridge when you come to it.
Aunt Qin came out with a glass of milk. Seeing his lazy posture, she shook her head in exasperation.
“This child… How can he be so relaxed?”
He Changning removed the book from his face, his tone lazy.
“What’s there to stress about? If I get worked up, will Young Master Shang suddenly revolt, take down the eighth uncle, defeat the ninth uncle, overthrow his grandma, and dump me before we even get married?”
Aunt Qin rushed to cover his mouth.
“You little rascal! You’ll say anything, won’t you?”
He laughed.
“I’m just joking.”
She handed him the milk.
“The Old Madam asked me to tell you—you’ll be meeting the Shang family in two days. The young master himself will be there. She said to get ready and not embarrass her.”
Then she muttered,
“As if our Changning isn’t handsome enough to make them worry about losing face.”
He sipped his milk, tuning out her nagging.
But inside, he was thinking: So we’re finally going to meet…
Would he look like the rumors said?
How would he treat him? With contempt? Disgust? Indifference?
He scoffed at himself. What kind of welcome can a man who’s basically being sold into marriage expect? Get real, He Changning.
But it didn’t matter. As long as he made it through the next year, he’d be free. Then he’d take Aunt Qin and leave this place. With his skills, supporting both of them would be no issue.
Since learning about the arranged marriage, he had discreetly looked into Shang Yushang.
The word was: tough to get along with. Cold as ice. Barely spoke. Mild germaphobe. Temperamental.
He’d taken over Shangshi Group at twenty-two. In eight years, he’d grown it from a mid-level firm into a global conglomerate. The company now had holdings in hospitality, dining, entertainment, and construction. Their shopping malls were in nearly every major city.
This kind of man—decisive, ruthless, razor-sharp in business—was not someone easily pushed around.
So why would he agree to marry a man? Even if he liked men, shouldn’t he at least pick someone he wanted?
Why go along with a family arrangement for someone he’d never even met?
And this wasn’t just anyone—this was the Shang family’s heir, the CEO of a massive empire, the ultimate eligible bachelor. Women threw themselves at him. So did men—actors, models, you name it. All begging for a night with no strings attached.
Looking at the photos sent by a friend, He Changning had to admit—this guy was ridiculously attractive. Nearly six-foot-three, broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs. A face like it had been carved from stone: sharp features, deep-set eyes, chiseled nose, firm lips. His lightly tanned skin glowed with health, and his chestnut-brown hair had just the right amount of wave.
A man women screamed for. A man other men envied.
And yet… here he was. The one being arranged to marry him.
The thought made He Changning’s skin crawl. He couldn’t understand those women or men. And frankly, the whole bedroom stuff? Not something he was comfortable with either.
Thinking about the upcoming meeting in two days, his heart felt restless.
Even if the rumors were exaggerated, they had to come from somewhere. If this man really swung both ways… what would he do?
There had to be a reason the Shang family chose him out of all possible candidates. If there was a game being played, maybe—just maybe—he could find a way to play it to his own advantage.
If this was just a transaction, then fine. He’d make sure he got something out of it too.
Hopefully, when they met, he’d get a chance to speak with Shang Yushang—alone.
