Lin Yaoyue hated three things in life:
1. Waking up before sunrise,
2. Working under idiots,
3. And being broke.
Unfortunately, all three had made an appearance this week.
She stared at her cracked phone screen, thumb hovering over the "End Call" button. The words from the client still echoed in her ears:
"Sorry, Ms. Lin. The client decided to go in a different direction."
Click. Line dead.
She didn't even have time to argue or ask which direction. She slumped back into the cheap wooden chair of the café she'd been using as her makeshift office. The barista behind the counter gave her a pointed look, likely wondering if she was ever going to order anything or just keep mooching off the free Wi-Fi.
Yaoyue flipped open her worn planner, ignoring the coffee stains and pages curled from stress-induced scribbling. Three canceled gigs in one month. Rent due in five days. Her younger brother's tuition looming over her like a vulture. Her account balance: 47 yuan.
Even ramen was starting to look expensive.
Her fingers curled around the printed job listing tucked into the back sleeve of her notebook, something she'd picked up out of desperation at a job fair the previous day. Thick red circles outlined the bold text:
"Executive Assistant to CEO, Jinlin Corporation. Urgent hire. Walk-in interviews available this week."
She didn't care what "executive assistant" meant. She'd answer phones, make coffee, fetch dry-cleaning, hell, she'd clean shoes if the pay was good. Pride wasn't a luxury she could afford anymore.
---
The elevator dinged on the 49th floor of Jinlin Tower, and Yaoyue immediately regretted everything about her outfit. Her too-tight blazer pinched at the shoulders, the pencil skirt threatened to ride up every few steps, and her flats made little squeaky sounds on the polished marble floor.
She stood frozen for a moment, staring at the luxury around her. The whole place looked like the inside of a jewelry box, all chrome, glass, and air so crisp it smelled expensive.
A tall, perfectly styled receptionist barely looked up as she approached.
"I'm here for the interview," Yaoyue said, trying to sound confident and not like someone who'd skipped breakfast and borrowed her outfit from a friend three sizes smaller.
The receptionist tilted her head, then typed her name in. "Lin Yaoyue?"
"That's me."
There was a strange pause. A flash of something unreadable crossed the receptionist's face, confusion? Amusement?
"You're early," she said, standing. "Mr. Jiang doesn't usually meet applicants personally, but… he requested your file."
Yaoyue blinked. "Mr. Jiang? As in… the CEO?"
The receptionist only smiled politely and motioned for her to follow. "This way."
---
She was led down a quiet corridor that felt like walking through a tech billionaire's secret lair. Sleek walls. Frosted glass. No noise except the soft click of their shoes.
The receptionist opened a tall glass door, then stepped aside.
"Mr. Jiang will see you now."
Yaoyue stepped inside.
The office was massive. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline like a painting. Every piece of furniture was minimalist and outrageously expensive-looking. A small sculpture on the desk probably cost more than her entire life savings.
But what caught her attention was the man standing by the window.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Clad in a tailored black suit that looked custom-made to intimidate. His features were sharp, sculpted, like someone had carved him out of cold stone. Jet-black hair, perfectly styled. And eyes, pale gray, glinting with something that was definitely not warmth.
Jiang Zeyan.
CEO of Jinlin Corporation. Billionaire. Enigma. Known for building one of the most dominant luxury firms in Asia by the time he was thirty. Also known for never giving interviews, avoiding the press, and being allergic to social interaction.
So why the hell was he looking at *her*?
"You're not what I expected," he said after a moment, voice calm and detached.
Yaoyue cleared her throat. "I get that a lot."
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, almost. Then it was gone.
He crossed the room slowly and picked up a folder from his desk. Without sitting, he slid it across the glass surface toward her.
"This position isn't what the listing said."
Yaoyue didn't sit either. Her eyes narrowed.
"Oh? Is it not an assistant role?"
"Not exactly," he said, meeting her eyes. "It's more personal."
That set off *every* internal alarm she had. "Define 'personal.'"
"You'll be required to attend events with me, live at my residence temporarily, and act as my partner, publicly. A girlfriend. Fake, of course."
There was a beat of silence.
She stared. Blinked. Laughed, once, just to be sure this wasn't a joke.
He didn't smile.
"Excuse me?" she said finally, eyebrows raised so high they nearly touched her hairline.
"I'm under pressure from my board and family to settle down, specifically, to marry into a family with business influence. I have no interest in that. But if they believe I'm already committed, it buys me time."
Yaoyue crossed her arms. "And you think hiring a stranger to play girlfriend is the solution?"
"You're not from my world," he replied. "You don't chase the press. You don't have ties to rival companies. You're… neutral."
"Disposable, you mean."
His jaw twitched, just slightly.
"One month," he said. "Fifty thousand. Additional bonuses for public appearances. All expenses paid. And when it's over, you disappear, no strings attached."
Yaoyue's heart was thundering. Her gut screamed absolutely not. But her wallet… her brother's tuition… her landlord's daily threats…
"What's the catch?" she asked.
"No emotional complications," he said plainly. "No real relationship. This is a business contract. And it stays that way."
She stared at him for a long moment.
Then said, "Triple the salary. And I want dental."
That smirk appeared again, real this time. Just for a second.
"Deal."
---
Outside the office, the receptionist blinked as Yaoyue exited, face composed, eyes dazed, like someone who'd just stepped off a rollercoaster.
"How did it go?" she asked.
Yaoyue tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"I think I just got hired to be someone's fake girlfriend."
The receptionist blinked. Twice. "…You what?"
Yaoyue didn't answer. She just walked toward the elevator, unsure if she was dreaming, or if her life had just taken a very expensive, very dangerous turn.