The Maybach came to a smooth stop at the main entrance. Lin Cunkang got out and, with gentlemanly grace, opened the door for her first. He gave a slight bow and said, “Miss Ying, welcome.”
Ying Yin felt a whirl of emotions and was momentarily awestruck into silence. Before a house like this, her praise and wonder felt utterly superfluous.
Shang Shao took a step forward, then paused when he noticed she hadn’t followed. “Don’t just stand there,” he said coolly. “Let me show you around.”
Ying Yin’s high heels clicked twice against the ground. A maid had already stepped forward to greet her, holding in her hands a brand-new pair of women’s vegetable-tanned leather soft shoes. “Miss Ying, might you prefer a more comfortable pair of shoes for walking?”
Ying Yin glanced at Shang Shao. He gave a slight nod. “I’ll wait.”
She followed the maid into the foyer and sat down on a soft stool. The maid lowered herself into a half-squat. “Let me help you change them.”
Gently cradling Ying Yin’s calf and ankle, she carefully removed the eight-centimeter stilettos from her feet. Just before the new shoes were slipped on, Ying Yin asked, “Do you have disposable socks?”
“Rest assured, these shoes are brand new, and they belong to you alone,” the maid replied as she guided the shoes over Ying Yin’s toes. “They’re best worn barefoot at home – very comfortable and breathable. Shoes that breathe.”
Ying Yin couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. “You should work in a luxury goods boutique.”
The maid smiled back at her. “Thank you for the compliment. Please stand and try them – do they fit?”
Ying Yin rose and took a couple of steps, looking astonished. “Really, I wear a size 37.5, and it’s nearly impossible to find shoes that fit just right.”
The maid said nothing more, simply holding her hands at her sides and bowing slightly. “As long as you’re comfortable, Miss. The young master is waiting for you outside.”
With her shoes changed, Ying Yin’s aura was no longer as sharp as before. She seemed more relaxed and at ease, as if completely immersed in a sense of comfort.
Shang Shao curved his lips into a gentle smile. “Comfortable?”
“Mhm.” She gave a firm nod.
“This way.” Shang Shao stepped aside, letting Ying Yin walk beside him.
He didn’t take her into the house right away, but first led her around the outside, explaining as they went: “This used to be a marine park, but most of the pavilions have been demolished. Now, only the animal protection center and breeding facility you saw earlier remain. People come to work here every day, but don’t worry – they usually don’t come over to this area.”
“The whole property sits on a cliff face. There’s a walkway leading down to the mountain base where you can see the ocean. There’s a small sandy beach, but swimming isn’t allowed. If you like swimming, there’s an infinity pool on the second floor. There’s also another one in the back garden – you’ll see it later.”
Crossing the front lawn took some time. When they reached the side, Shang Shao pointed to a white, square building with a slanted roof. “This used to be the whale shark pavilion of the marine park. I kept it. You can also get there from inside the house. Below it are the ocean-view restaurant and the marine-view rooms.”
Ying Yin: “…Huh?”
“What’s wrong?” Shang Shao asked flatly.
“Nothing…” Ying Yin swallowed her surprise. “Why did you keep the whale shark pavilion?”
“It’s still in use.”
“For keeping fish?”
“For keeping fish.”
“Even your aquarium is bigger than other people’s, Mr. Shang,” Ying Yin joked as she followed Shang Shao into the pavilion.
Shang Shao smiled, clearly in a good mood. “Mhm,” he said. “You’re right.”
As they entered the pavilion, the temperature dropped noticeably. The beautiful afternoon light was blocked outside the structure, replaced by a serene, gentle deep blue. The lighting arrangement was clearly professional – the entire space gave off a rippling, watery feel, reflected on the pure white walls with their rounded, chamfered corners.
“I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.”
“Here?” Ying Yin was surprised, then quickly understood. It must be a fish he kept – or perhaps a school of tropical fish. Or maybe even a colorful little tree frog.
Shang Shao nodded, said “Wait a moment,” then took off his suit jacket and draped it over Ying Yin’s shoulders. “It’s cold in here. Bundle up.”
Ying Yin gathered the jacket lapels with both hands. Then she watched him pull out his white porcelain cigarette case from his trouser pocket. He asked, as a matter of routine, “Do you mind?”
Ying Yin shook her head. She actually rather liked the scent of the cigarette brand on his fingertips – it was different from the tobacco smell on other people, carrying a gentle note of agarwood.
She was reminded again of the kiss in the car.
Between his lips and tongue there had been that same hint of tobacco fragrance – very faint, yet it had filled her breath with an undeniable dominance.
Shang Shao placed the cigarette between his lips, tilted his face down to light it, the flame cupped in his palm illuminating his brow and eyes.
After taking a drag, he thought to ask, “Do you have megalophobia? My friend… is a little large.”
Ying Yin had still been thinking about his kiss. Now, with “friend” and “large,” her thoughts took a sudden, steep slide downhill, and a torrent of inappropriate mental images came crashing down.
Help! What was she – an innocent young woman – thinking about?!
Under the deep blue light, Shang Shao’s gaze was probing and thought-provoking. “Does that question warrant such an intense, mortified expression from you?”
Ying Yin lowered her head to avoid his eyes, her tone inexplicably guilty. “I don’t have megalophobia… A little large is fine.”
Shang Shao: “…”
Why did that sound even stranger? Ying Yin looked up and quickly added, each word only making her more obvious. “I meant, your friend being a little large is fine!”
Shang Shao exhaled a stream of smoke with a helpless sigh and let out a soft laugh. “Stop talking. If you keep going, my mind will wander.”
Ying Yin: “…”
She was mortified and annoyed, biting her lip with a hint of indignation, as if she had been humiliated.
Shang Shao, at a loss under her stare, half-raised his hands, the corners of his lips curving into a smile. “OK, my fault.”
He looked like a man conceding defeat to her, but the way he held the cigarette between his fingers was dashing and nonchalant, the smile lingering on his slightly lowered face – clearly, he was still laughing at her.
Ying Yin gave a cold, sharp hum, her expression remarkably vivid. “So, you are just like every other man after all.”
“Are you insulting me?” Shang Shao’s voice was low, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “You’re so bold today – slamming my car door, insulting me. Not afraid I’ll get back at you, hmm?”
Ying Yin couldn’t answer right away. She stood there glaring at him for a long moment, then, without warning, stepped forward and threw her arms around his waist, hugging him.
Shang Shao’s expression and body both went rigid. His hands stayed raised, unsure whether they should rest on her. Looking down, he saw her hugging him with complete focus. His voice softened as he asked, “And what are you doing now?”
“Getting back at you. By wasting your money.” Ying Yin said with a perfectly straight face. “Ten million for thirty minutes. That’s five thousand, five hundred and fifty-five per second. It’s been ten seconds already.”
The truth was, her revenge was entirely impulsive, a reckless act of pique. But she committed to it fully – her slender arms crossed and tightened around his waist, as if afraid he might break free, using every ounce of her strength.
At that moment, Shang Shao was only wearing his dress shirt, neatly tucked into his trousers. As Ying Yin held him, she could feel the taut, powerful texture of muscle and bone beneath the fabric.
She blushed.
On the oversized men’s watch face at her left wrist, the second hand moved – now fast, now slow.
“Twenty seconds,” she counted silently, eyes closed.
“Forty seconds.” She was smug.
“One minute.” Triumphant.
Shang Shao: “…”
“That’s enough for today.” Ying Yin lifted her face. “Since you are so true to your word, from now on, every time you’re mean to me, I’ll waste your money.”
Seeing her like this, Shang Shao truly felt that if he didn’t kiss her right now, he wouldn’t be a man.
His arm tightened around her waist, his downcast eyes calm as ever, but his voice was unusually deep. “How did you get so clever?”
Ying Yin was sure he wasn’t genuinely complimenting her. But she held his gaze and gave a small, soft swallow.
The cigarette he had just lit was still burning quietly. Wispy white smoke curled up through the cool air, obscuring his already inscrutable expression.
After a moment, Shang Shao narrowed his eyes slightly. He raised the hand holding the cigarette and gently cupped Ying Yin’s cheek. In a low, husky, yet effortlessly casual tone, he said, “I have too much money. Let me teach you a faster way to waste it.”
Ying Yin’s heart tightened. She lifted her lashes and looked into his eyes, but couldn’t hold his gaze for more than two seconds. Flustered, she looked away, her eyes dropping to his lips, which were now inches from her own.
Her nose was filled with the scent of his custom-blended cigarette.
She turned her face slightly, her limbs feeling weak and empty. She knew what was about to happen.
As she closed her eyes, Shang Shao’s kiss descended upon her.
His suit jacket slipped from her shoulders and fell to the floor. Ying Yin let out a soft “Mmm” as her center of gravity suddenly lifted – Shang Shao had scooped her up and pressed her hard against the wall.
The wall was cold. The chill seeped through her silk blouse and into her very bones, making her shiver uncontrollably. Her feet barely touched the ground; her bottom was cradled and held fast in the crook of his arm. Beneath her pencil skirt, her long legs could only tense their toes, straining pitifully to find purchase. Her waist was locked in his embrace – so tightly, so fiercely, that it felt as though it might snap.
But nothing was fiercer than the way he kissed her.
His kiss was suffocating, powerful, and domineering, leaving her no room to respond. He sucked, bit, licked, tugged, and pulled – not like last night, when he had lost control of his emotions; not like this afternoon, when he had been effortlessly composed. This was something else entirely – a raw, intensely masculine act of possession.
Shang Shao sucked so hard that the base of Ying Yin’s tongue ached. Her arms went limp as she looped them loosely around his neck, her fingers threading through his dark hair. She couldn’t tell whether she was pulling him closer or offering herself up to him.
His body beneath the shirt was so hot.
Her heart, hidden beneath softness, tightened again and again. Just as Ying Yin thought she might die from the suffocating pressure, there was a faint click – and through her shirt, the clasp came undone with a single hand, effortlessly.
Her breathing was freed. Her softness was also released from its restraint.
But the kiss stopped right there. Shang Shao came to his senses. Ying Yin came back to reality, too. One man’s eyes were dark and deep, the other’s – her own – were rimmed with red at the corners. One swallowed hard with desire, the other panted for air.
The heaving of their chests gradually slowed from its fevered pace. Shang Shao steadied his breathing and slid his hand down from Ying Yin’s back, letting her lower gently to the ground.
Shang Shao had worn her out so thoroughly that her whole body had gone soft. Her legs had no strength left. As she landed, she buckled slightly – but his quick hand caught her.
He pressed her back against the wall.
Shang Shao exhaled deeply. His tired eyes and brows carried a hint of helplessness as he looked at her. After a long moment, he lowered his face and kissed the corner of her lips.
“Sorry.”
Ying Yin lowered her head and buried her face in his chest. Her slender arms reached behind her back, and in silence, she tried to refasten the clasp.
She couldn’t get it to catch.
She was about to cry.
What kind of person was he?!
Shang Shao was silent for a moment. “…Do you want me to help you?”
“No!” Her voice came out thick with emotion. Biting her lip and holding back tears, she fumbled for a while longer and finally managed to fasten the clasp with difficulty.
She stayed buried in Shang Shao’s chest for a while longer. When she lifted her face again, her eyes were glistening with tears.
Shang Shao paused. He cupped her face, brushing his thumb against the soft, damp skin beneath her eyes. “Why are you crying?”
Ying Yin held back again and again. Her grievance was too embarrassing to put into words. Her lips – swollen from his fierce kissing – jutted out in a stubborn, tearful pout.
Seeing her silence, another wave of heat surged from deep within him. Shang Shao’s long, slender fingers – each knuckle defined – slipped into his tie knot and loosened it completely.
“It’s all my fault. I broke my word… lost control at the sight of you… committed every wrongdoing… acted like a rogue.”
Lost control at the sight of you was hardly a complimentary phrase, and acted like a rogue had never once appeared in his life – proof of just how thoroughly he was reproaching himself.
Ying Yin lowered her face. The corners of her mouth lifted ever so slightly.
“You’re so rich. Ten million means nothing to you. You’ll do it again.”
She made a very good point.
Ten million per kiss held no deterrent power whatsoever. He could kiss her whenever he wanted. Anything with a price tag in this world, he could possess with ease.
Shang Shao thought for a moment. His voice was low and hoarse, but his tone was serious. “There really won’t be a next time. Your kiss shouldn’t have a price tag, and I shouldn’t force a sale.”
He gently stroked Ying Yin’s hair. “Come on. I’ll take you to sign the contract.”
“Not meeting your friend anymore?”
“Today is probably not the right time.”
He bent down and picked up the suit jacket that had fallen to the floor. After letting out a long breath, he changed his mind. “Miss Ying, why don’t you go ahead first? I think I need to be alone with my friend for a while.”
Ying Yin nodded. The two of them went their separate ways – one inward, one outward.
Inside the twenty-meter-wide ocean-view window, a massive whale shark glided about, solitary and at ease. In front of the window sat a single vintage folding chair, its metallic silver tainted by the deep blue of the water, looking cold and desolate.
Sensing someone approaching, the whale shark stopped swimming. It hovered in front of the folding chair, simply swaying its tail.
The man before it had never appeared before it in such a disheveled state. His suit jacket was dangling from his hand, nearly dragging on the floor. His shirt – usually ironed to crisp perfection – had been softened by his own restless heat, wrinkled and utterly shapeless.
And most notably, his tie hung loose. The full knot of his Adam’s apple rolled with each subtle swallow.
Drawing closer, he casually draped the jacket over the back of the chair and pulled out his cigarette case from his trouser pocket.
There was only one cigarette left. But Shang Shao didn’t hesitate. He lit it, took a drag, and his chest rose and fell deeply.
The whale shark watched as he sat down on the chair, crossing one leg over the other, one arm draped over the backrest, the other hand holding the cigarette. His expression was silent and displeased.
It wasn’t that he lacked self-control. At the very least, during his past relationship with his ex-girlfriend Yu Shasha, he had maintained perfect gentlemanly restraint from start to finish. He and Yu Shasha had been a real couple. So why was it that with Ying Yin – someone he had only known for a few days, and under a fake contractual arrangement – he couldn’t hold back?
After finishing the cigarette, Shang Shao stood up and walked back to the main house through a different corridor.
With his phone pressed to his ear, he instructed Lin Cunkang, “Take Miss Ying to the study. Is the contract ready? Add a few clauses for me.”
By the time he reached the second-floor study, Ying Yin was already there. Before leaving the whale shark pavilion, she had gone to the restroom and carefully examined herself in the mirror.
The face reflected back at her was beautiful, but tinged with a touch of wild disarray. That wildness radiated from her eyes, her slightly reddened earlobes and the tip of her nose, her smudged lips. Anyone who saw her would know exactly what had happened.
She splashed cold water on her face and washed away the flush.
By the time Shang Shao and Lin Cunkang saw her, she had already touched up her makeup and was once again fully armed.
“Miss Ying, here is the contract.” Lin Cunkang handed her a single thin sheet of paper. “Two originals. We will have it notarized. After notarization, it will carry legal effect.”
Ying Yin hadn’t expected it to be taken this seriously.
She skimmed the clauses at top speed, listening as Lin Cunkang explained: “After signing, thirty percent – thirty million – will be paid today. The contract term is one year. Upon reaching the six-month mark, another thirty percent will be paid, for a total of sixty percent. The remaining forty percent will be paid after the contract concludes.”
Ying Yin nodded. She did not look up at Shang Shao.
“Considering that you’re a celebrity,” Shang Shao began slowly, “dating me carries a risk of exposure. Any losses incurred as a result of this relationship will be compensated to you in the form of resources – endorsements, investments, awards nominations, anything you need. That’s all acceptable.”
“I don’t need any of that,” Ying Yin answered quickly.
Shang Shao curved his lips. His tone couldn’t be called ungentle. “This is what you deserve. Business is business. No need to stand on ceremony with me.”
What a phrase… Business is business.
Just moments ago, he had been kissing her uncontrollably, unable to part with her. And now it was “no need to stand on ceremony.”
“During the term of the contract, you are not required to perform any physical obligations toward Mr. Shang Shao. Nor may Mr. Shang Shao use the contract to coerce you into physical contact. If there is any violation, you may choose to terminate the contract immediately, and we will pay you the full amount,” Lin Cunkang continued.
Perhaps it was because his tone was so impeccably polite that it seemed utterly impersonal. Yet, in truth, his manner was actually quite gentle.
Ying Yin thought to herself, I’m the one being difficult. How can I blame an old gentleman for doing his job?
She nodded. “Mm,” she acknowledged.
“All you need to do is accompany Mr. Shang to necessary occasions as his girlfriend. For the rest of the time, we have no frequency requirement.”
At this, Ying Yin lifted her face and smiled at Lin Cunkang. “So much freedom.”
He hadn’t even specified how many times a week they needed to see each other.
What she didn’t know was that these were clauses Shang Shao had just asked Lin Cunkang to add.
Shang Shao had no idea why she wouldn’t look at him. It was as if the person she was signing the contract with was Lin Cunkang, and the person she would be performing her obligations to was also Lin Cunkang.
He gave Ying Yin a meaningful look and called her name. “Ying Yin.”
Ying Yin turned her gaze back to him. Shang Shao felt relieved, yet asked in a matter-of-fact tone, “Is there anything you’d like to add?”
“No.” Ying Yin didn’t glance at the contract again. Her tone was light. “Let’s sign.”
Lin Cunkang unscrewed a fountain pen and handed it to her, then opened a small red inkpad beside it.
Ying Yin wrote down her ID number, her full name, the current date, and pressed her index finger onto the inkpad, then onto the paper.
Two copies of the contract were signed simultaneously by both parties. Everything was done quickly, quietly, and orderly.
After signing, Ying Yin looked at Shang Shao. The curve of her lips was bright and cheerful. “Thank you, Mr. Shang, for giving me such a highly profitable deal.”
Hearing her words, Shang Shao’s brows furrowed slightly. Before finishing writing his own ID number, he stopped the pen and looked up at her. “Ying Yin, if anything feels wrong, tell me.”
“No, I think it’s fine. You’ve considered everything for me, Mr. Shang. It’s very thorough. I feel at ease.”
She unconsciously and mechanically fiddled with the Montblanc pen, repeatedly twisting the ink cartridge open and closed again.
Shang Shao continued signing the remaining sections.
Listening to the soft scratching of the pen nib, Ying Yin lifted her eyes. They were bright, and her lips were smiling. Her tone was light, innocent, and carefree as she asked, “So… that means I just have to wait for you to reach out whenever you need me, right?”
No answer came at first. But the sound of the pen stopped.
Shang Shao screwed the cap back onto the pen and held out the contract.
Just as Ying Yin was about to take it, he looked into her eyes – his gaze so deeply meaningful – and without blinking, crumpled the paper in his palm.
Lin Cunkang’s face showed not a trace of surprise. With detached composure, he simply gazed out the window at the greenery.
The mountain forest had cost a fortune to create. In the early evening, mist was rising from the quiet, winding creek, drifting through the straight rows of trees, while the gentle glow of the setting sun covered everything.
“Mr. Shang… what are you doing?” Ying Yin asked hesitantly, the smile at the corner of her lips barely holding.
Had he changed his mind?
“I’ve changed my mind,” Shang Shao said calmly.
Ying Yin’s resolve crumbled. She pressed her lips together. “I see.”
“Since I’m spending so much money, I should be able to see you whenever I want.”
Shang Shao’s tone was low and slow. “But considering I’m very busy – three times a week, no less than one hour each time…”
He lifted his gaze to glance at her, casually. “Do you have any objections?”
