Wen Yining did not wake up.
Her eyelashes fluttered, but her eyes remained closed.
Xi Yu bent down, directly reaching out to grip her wrist. His grip was not gentle, his knuckles turning white.
“Wen Yining.”
This time, Wen Yining finally woke up.
She frowned first, then her eyelids trembled before slowly opening.
Her pupils remained unfocused for a few seconds before sharpening, and she saw a man standing before her.
Dressed in a suit, his black hair slightly disheveled, his face as cold as ice.
Her mind was still foggy. She stared at him for two seconds before recognizing who he was.
Xi Yu.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but her throat was as dry as sandpaper, unable to utter a single word.
Then she felt it.
The pressure of his fingers on her wrist, the soreness of her body beneath the blanket, and an indescribable scent lingering in the air.
Her gaze slowly drifted downward, seeing her spaghetti-strap dress crumpled into a heap, the straps slipping down her arms, her exposed skin covered in bluish-purple marks.
Last night.
She remembered Mother Wen handing her a glass of juice, remembered feeling dizzy after drinking it, remembered being helped along a long path.
And then… nothing.
Like a piece of film that had been cut, it jumped straight to the present.
Wen Yining’s face instantly paled.
Xi Yu watched the change in her expression, the corner of his mouth twitching.
It was a cold smile, a mockery that chilled to the bone.
“Remember now?” His voice was low, so low only she could hear it. “Miss Wen, what a clever scheme.”
Wen Yining abruptly looked up, meeting his eyes.
Those eyes were dark and cold, swirling with anger and disgust, like two pools of frozen water.
She wanted to explain, to say she knew nothing either, but the words caught in her throat, only squeezing out one word: “I…”
She couldn’t continue.
Because she truly didn’t know what had happened, not even sure if she had been set up.
She only remembered that glass of juice, only remembered Mother Wen telling her to go upstairs and rest. The rest was a blank.
She had no evidence to prove her innocence. She wasn’t even sure if she was innocent.
Xi Yu waited a few seconds, but she said nothing more.
His patience had run out, his eyes filled with nothing but disdain and disgust.
He released her wrist, took a step back, his voice as cold as winter wind. “From now on, don’t ever appear before me again.”
With that, he turned and strode toward the door.
His leather shoes made no sound on the carpet, but Wen Yining heard it.
The sound of him slamming the door.
Hard.
The entire room shook.
The moment the door closed, the sound of his footsteps gradually fading away echoed from the hallway, soon swallowed by the thick carpet.
Wen Yining sat on the bed, staring at the tightly shut door, her mind blank.
About last night, she couldn’t remember anything.
Her last memory stopped at that glass of juice.
Mother Wen handed it to her, she drank it, and then… then there was nothing.
Wen Yining’s hands began to tremble.
She threw off the blanket and got out of bed, her legs nearly buckling as she almost knelt on the floor.
A man’s bathrobe lay discarded on the carpet, along with her evening gown, crumpled into a heap like a crushed flower.
The bathroom door was open, the lights inside off.
The room was also in disarray, the bedsheets wrinkled beyond recognition.
Wen Yining stood by the bed, her legs weak, her mind buzzing.
She forced herself to take deep breaths, trying to piece together any fragment of memory, but nothing came to mind.
All she remembered was the intense heat, someone grabbing her hand, and some vague, heavy sounds.
Wen Yining’s head throbbed as she mechanically picked up her phone. The screen was flooded with notifications.
At the top was a pop-up from a news app.
[Heir of the Xi Family Spends Night at Hotel with Wen Family’s Young Miss]
Accompanying the headline was a blurry photo taken in the hotel lobby. The profile of a man in a black suit was clearly recognizable—it was Xi Yu.
Behind him followed a girl in a champagne-colored evening gown, her head lowered, hair covering half her face.
It was her from last night.
Wen Yining’s fingers froze on the screen, her entire body feeling as if she had been nailed to the spot.
She stared at the photo for five seconds, then tapped it. The moment the page loaded, her blood ran cold.
Top trending: #XiYuWenYiningHotelNight#
Second trending: #HeirOfXiGroupRomanceExposed#
Third trending: #WenFamilyYoungMiss#
The comments had already surpassed a hundred thousand.
She didn’t open them. She didn’t need to see to know what people were saying.
But she couldn’t help glancing at the first few comments.
“That adopted daughter of the Wen family? Quite the schemer.”
“Xi Yu never had any scandals before, and now he goes straight to spending the night. Impressive.”
“That girl was groomed from childhood to marry into a wealthy family, right? I heard she learned all sorts of talents.”
“Would the Xi family even want such a calculating woman?”
Suddenly, her phone vibrated.
She tapped the notification. It was a message from Mother Wen, just one sentence: “Saw the news. Well done. Leave the rest to us.”
Wen Yining flipped her phone face down on the bed and closed her eyes.
She felt sick.
She crouched down, burying her face in her knees.
She didn’t want to cry, but she felt cold, a chill seeping from her bones.
She had thought Mother Wen only wanted her to marry into the Xi family, that all those training classes, those banquets, those endless, calculated approaches were the extent of it.
She never imagined Mother Wen would go this far.
Never.
She was so foolish.
Wen Yining wept silently, the pain in her heart far surpassing any physical discomfort.
She stared at the message for a long time, then deleted it.
She didn’t reply.
The hotel doorbell rang.
Wen Yining wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, hastily pulled on the crumpled evening gown, and, unable to reach the zipper, picked up the bathrobe Xi Yu had left on the floor before opening the door.
Outside stood a man in professional attire, around thirty years old, with a serious but not cold expression, holding a paper bag.
Before she could ask, he introduced himself first.
“Miss Wen, I am Mr. Xi’s assistant. My surname is Lin. These are clothes and toiletries Mr. Xi instructed me to prepare for you.”
Xi Yu instructed this?
Shouldn’t he despise her now?
Wen Yining opened her mouth, wanting to ask something, but in the end, she said nothing.
She took the paper bag, offered no extra words, only softly said thank you, nodded, and turned to close the door.
Inside the bag was a set of light blue knitwear and a white long skirt, along with a set of Victoria’s Secret lingerie.
Wen Yining didn’t bother checking if the sizes fit. She quickly changed, washed her face, tied up her hair, and glanced at herself in the bathroom mirror.
Her complexion was pale yet flushed, but her lips were dry and cracked, with dark circles under her eyes.
What… had she done last night?
Memories of some unbearable scenes surfaced in her mind, and her small face instantly flushed crimson. She dared not dwell on them further.
She could only sense the indescribable peculiarity in her body at that moment.
∴*****
By the time Xi Yu exited through the hotel’s VIP passage, his phone had vibrated no less than twenty times.
He didn’t look at it.
He didn’t need to look to know what it was about.
News alerts, missed calls, inquiries from various people.
Xi Yu disdained this false concern—it was nothing more than prying into his private life.
He couldn’t be bothered to deal with it. Tossing the phone to Assistant Lin in the passenger seat, he leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and said, “Turn it off.”
Assistant Lin hesitated for a moment. “President Xi, the shareholders are already asking. Should we—”
“I said turn it off.”
Assistant Lin fell silent, pressed and held the power button, and the screen went black.
The car headed toward the Xi Corporation building. No one spoke along the way.
Xi Yu’s suit jacket rested on his knees, his shirt cuffs rolled up to his forearms. On his left wrist was a faint red mark, left by the woman from last night when she cried out in pain.
He stared at the mark for two seconds before finally pulling his sleeve back down.
In the conference room on the thirty-second floor of the Xi Corporation building, everyone had already gathered.
Both sides of the long table were filled with people, every face tense.
Displayed on the projection screen was not a meeting report, but a screenshot of that day’s Weibo hot search list. Four of the top ten entries were related to Xi Yu.
“Within an hour, the market value evaporated by twelve billion,” said Zhou Zhengyuan, the group’s vice chairman. In his sixties, he had been with Xi Corporation for thirty years and always spoke unhurriedly. He was famously the second-in-command in the group.
“The pre-market was still rising, but as soon as the market opened at 9:30, it plummeted. It has already dropped nearly five points. Everyone, this isn’t just entertainment gossip—this is tangible capital loss.”
After he finished speaking, no one responded.
Xi Yu sat at the head of the long table, one hand resting on the armrest, his posture seemingly relaxed.
He wasn’t looking at the projection or anyone in particular. His gaze was fixed on the empty space directly ahead, as if observing something that didn’t exist.
“My suggestion is clear,” Zhou Zhengyuan said, taking off his glasses and wiping them. “We need an official statement to the public, preferably to official media outlets, such as financial channels or mainstream news agencies. The content doesn’t need to be complicated—define it as a private matter, unrelated to the group’s operations, while emphasizing President Xi’s personal commitment and focus on the group.”
Someone coughed lightly. “Vice Chairman Zhou means to separate President Xi’s private life from the group?”
Zhou Zhengyuan put his glasses back on and smiled. “It’s not about separation, just about making a statement. The capital market fears uncertainty the most. Give them a clear explanation, and they won’t let their imaginations run wild.”
Xi Yu’s finger tapped lightly on the armrest—a soft sound, but the conference room instantly fell silent.
Everyone turned to look at him.