The morning sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, painting golden streaks across the room.

Nestled in the plush white bedding, the young woman lay with her eyes lightly closed, a faint blush visible beneath her lashes. Her full lips, soft and pink, looked irresistibly tempting. A warm breath brushed against her ear, as if someone had pulled her into an embrace—the lingering heat left her intoxicated.

"You can stop anytime if you don’t want this."

"......"

Meng Zhixu instinctively clutched the sheets, her cheeks burning. Her entire body felt weightless, floating in a haze.

That voice had haunted her dreams again.

It felt so real, blurring the line between reality and fantasy. Her heartbeat pounded so loudly it threatened to burst from her chest, and that deep, velvety voice sent shivers down her spine.

——

Now dressed in a sleek black slip dress, Meng Zhixu stood before the mirror. Under the soft glow of the vanity lights, her porcelain skin seemed to glow, and the dress hugged her flawless curves effortlessly.

Her phone sat on the dressing table, the call on speaker.

"So, your grandpa faked an illness and even got the butler in on it just to trick you into coming home… all for a blind date?"

Meng Zhixu chuckled lightly as she touched up her makeup. "He values his friendship with Grandpa Mu too much. He’s dead set on marrying me into the Mu family."

If she hadn’t spent all of yesterday at the family estate being lectured about arranged marriages, she wouldn’t have had that dream—the kind that left her flushed and breathless.

Meng Zhixu selected the "Scorching" series from GC's perfume lineup, her slender fingers pausing over the glass bottles. "Where did you say Mu Ruihua was again?"

The intoxicating fragrance filled the air, its layered notes weaving a spell of allure.

"At Nightingale Bar. His whole crowd is there—some kind of welcome party, I heard."

"I thought you weren’t keen on this arranged marriage. Why the sudden interest in Mu Ruihua’s whereabouts?"

A sly glint flashed in Meng Zhixu’s peach-blossom eyes as she smirked. "Grandfather won’t budge, so the only way out is through the Mu family."

Mu Ruihua’s ideal type was a petite, sweet-natured girl—exactly the opposite of what she intended to be. If she could make the Mu family call off the engagement first, her grandfather would have no choice but to let go of his old promise to Mu’s patriarch.

——

The private lounge door swung open, and a tall, commanding figure strode in, casually handing his suit jacket to the waiting attendant. The air seemed to still in his presence, as if the room itself held its breath.

"My apologies for the delay. An urgent meeting ran long." Mu Yuchuan’s voice was deep, smooth as aged whiskey, carrying an effortless authority.

The guests quickly waved off his apology with ingratiating smiles. "You honor us by joining at all, President Mu. We know how demanding your schedule is."

Mu Ruihua stood at once, bowing slightly. "Uncle."

Mu Yuchuan acknowledged him with a faint nod before scanning the room and taking his seat at the head of the table.

Seated beside his uncle by protocol, Mu Ruihua soon felt his phone buzzing incessantly. Excusing himself, he stepped out to answer. "Hello, Zhiwei?"

A fragile, tearful voice trembled through the receiver. "Ruihua... I-I’m sorry. Am I interrupting something important?"

Mu Ruihua's brow furrowed slightly. "What happened? Don't cry, I'm on my way."

Meanwhile, Meng Zhixu strode gracefully in her slender high heels, brushing past Mu Ruihua as he hurried away. Unfamiliar with his appearance, she remained oblivious to the encounter.

A message popped up from her best friend Jiang An: [Sent you the private room number! The Mu family keeps a low profile—not many photos exist. The most handsome one there should be Mu Ruihua!]

Meng Zhixu replied: [Got it!]

As she pushed open the door, every gaze in the room instantly snapped toward her.

Dressed in a black velvet slip dress that accentuated her alluring curves, her delicate collarbones peeked through subtly, while her slender waist invited imagination. She exuded an intoxicating allure.

The moment she entered, Meng Zhixu's attention was involuntarily drawn to the striking figure standing among the crowd—her future "arranged marriage partner," the man surnamed Mu.

He lounged casually against the chair, long fingers resting lightly on the table, the expensive watch on his wrist hinting at restrained power. A simple white shirt paired with a dark tie should have been understated, yet his presence was impossible to ignore.

An air of enigmatic aloofness surrounded him, laced with a lethally magnetic charm.

"This young lady says she's here to see Mr. Mu," the waiter quickly explained.

Mr. Mu? Wasn’t he the only one in the room with that surname?

At the commotion, the man finally lifted his gaze lazily to glance at her. From Meng Zhixu’s angle, she could clearly see the sharp, chiseled lines of his profile.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a faint, almost imperceptible trace of amusement in his eyes as he studied her.

"Did Mr. Mu really invite her?" The others exchanged puzzled looks, unable to resist pressing further. After all, though Mu Yuqian had spent years building his career abroad, he was famously disciplined—no whispers of romantic entanglements had ever surfaced around him.

Meng Zhixu clicked across the marble floor in her stiletto heels, weaving through the crowd with effortless grace until she stood right beside Mu Yuchuan. Leaning in slightly, she studied his chiseled features at close range.

The movement caused the neckline of her slip dress to dip dangerously low—a tantalizing view hidden from everyone else but perfectly framed for Mu Yuchuan’s eyes alone. The contrast between her porcelain skin and the sleek black fabric was impossible to ignore.

With a slow, deliberate blink, she purred in a voice dripping with honey, "Mmm~ This was arranged especially for you, President Mu. Do you like what you see?"

The words curled in the air like smoke, sultry and intoxicating.

Onlookers exchanged subtle glances, shaking their heads inwardly. Such tactics might work on lesser men, but everyone knew Mu Yuchuan’s legendary indifference. This little performance was bound to crash and burn.

Just as they braced for his trademark icy dismissal—

The corner of his mouth lifted in a faint, dangerous smirk. His voice, deep and velvety, sent a shiver down every spine in the room:

"What kind of answer are you hoping for?"