Back at the Xundao Coffee Shop, Aurora Stone was still waiting for William Knight.
Two hours had passed since the scheduled start of their blind date. Aurora hadn't just been stood up by William; Diana Bell was nowhere to be found either.
When Catherine Archer had arranged this setup, she had deliberately placed Diana and Aurora in the same cafe. Her goal was simple: use Diana as a foil. Sitting an eighteen-hundred-pound "pig" next to Aurora would make Aurora look like a goddess by comparison.
Aurora scanned the nearly empty cafe, her heart a messy cocktail of disappointment over William and a simmering rage. She pulled out her phone and dialed Diana.
"Hey, you little pig," Aurora snapped as soon as the line connected. "Why aren't you at the cafe yet?"
Diana's voice came through the receiver, laced with a mix of lethargy and pure disdain. "Aurora, did you forget to check the weather before you left the house? Since when do you have the right to breathe down my neck?"
Aurora scoffed, buffing her manicured nails with an air of immense superiority. "Oh, are you scared to show your face? It's okay, I truly understand your inferiority complex. I'm wearing a piece of haute couture today, and I doubt your rolls of fat could squeeze into even the largest plus-size dress. Standing next to me, you'd look like a complete joke."
Diana let out a low, playful chuckle. "I'm just worried that if we meet, your entire world view of 'beauty' will collapse so hard you'll drop dead on the spot."
Aurora burst into a shrill, mocking laugh. "Diana, are you still dreaming? With that stump of a body—so fat you don't even have a neck—you think I'm the one under pressure? That is the joke of the year!"
Diana countered languidly, "I know your cerebral cortex is as smooth as a marble, so I don't expect you to understand the concept of a 'metamorphosis.' It's fine; your IQ is barely high enough to manage basic respiratory functions anyway."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Aurora hissed.
"It means," Diana said, "that while some people are born as decorative vases, you don't even qualify for that. You're a plastic bucket filled with hot air. Stop looking at the world through such narrow eyes; you'll give yourself glaucoma."
With that, Diana hung up.
Aurora felt a physical lump of rage in her chest. In a fit of temper, she slammed her hand down, knocking over half of her freshly poured latte.
When Diana walked into the office, Boss Archer, who sat directly opposite the entrance, popped up like an overinflated beach ball. His wide physique was borderline comical, his white shirt buttons straining dangerously against the tension of his belly.
He trotted over, his small eyes squeezed into slits by the fat on his face. He checked his watch: exactly 10:00 AM.
"Oh, Diana! My star talent! Didn't I give you the day off? What are you doing here?"
Diana set her bag down with a detached air. "I don't love being a corporate slave, Boss, but I have a very deep, committed relationship with money."
Boss Archer chuckled, leaning in closer. "You're joking, Miss Bell. A woman like you short on cash?"
Diana pulled out her chair and sat, her sharp gaze cutting right through him. "Short? I'm bankrupt in spirit and light in the pocket. Boss, last month's performance bonuses are ten days overdue. Has the company's accounting system suffered a total collapse?"
He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. "Come on, your Big Brother Archer has plenty of money. You think I'd stiff you for a few cents?"
"If money isn't the problem, then pay the working class what they're owed. Don't let your 'vision' overdraw my stomach."
Boss Archer wasn't even angry; his eyes were glued to her. He couldn't believe it. The Diana Bell he remembered—the one who used to look like a stone lion—had thinned down into something breathtaking.
Back then, Catherine and Aurora had spent every waking moment dragging her name through the mud. Thanks to them, Diana was the laughingstock of the East City elite—the "clumsy, greasy" girl. The Bell family, obsessed with their public image, used to lock her away in a dilapidated back courtyard during major galas, treating her like a shameful secret.
That prejudice had followed her from the home to the workplace.
Even though Diana's students had the highest success rates in the city, Boss Archer had banned her from being the face of their marketing, claiming her "unappealing image" would scare away the parents.
But now, he was hovering over her, his voice so oily it made her skin crawl. "Miss Bell, how about lunch? A high-end French place just opened nearby. My treat?"
Diana stared at her screen, her fingers flying across the keys. "No thanks. I've lost my appetite."
He didn't take the hint. "How could you lose your appetite? Is French food too stuffy for you?"
Diana replied coldly, "I'm a 'dinosaur,' remember? I'm afraid if I sit down to eat with a 'VIP' like you, I'll turn your stomach with my ugliness."
The fat on Boss Archer's face twitched as he forced a dry laugh. "Oh, Diana, that was all just a joke! Look at you now—you're the face of this company!"
Seeing her ignore him, he pushed further. "People need fuel to work. If you like spicy food, I know a very private Sichuan place. I'll book a booth right now, and we can discuss your career path for the rest of the year."
Diana didn't even look up. "Book the booth for yourself. Even if you decide to perform an exorcism in there, I'm not interested in watching."
This was the first time Boss Archer had ever felt so humiliated by a woman, but the rejection only fueled his desire. Staring at her slender waist and the elegant curve of her neck, a dark heat rose in his chest.
"Diana, I admitted I have a big mouth. I'm apologizing, alright? Can't you give me a little face?"
Diana finally stopped typing. She turned her head, her eyes like chips of ice. "Boss, an apology used for leverage is just moral kidnapping. As a married man, you should learn the concept of boundaries. Instead of buying me lunch, go home to the wife who keeps your house running. She's the one who deserves your time."
Just then, other employees walked in. Boss Archer shut his mouth, grumbling as he turned away to pretend he was inspecting the office.
Diana took a deep breath and logged into the education platform to tackle a mountain of paid consultations. She was a "score-boosting machine," a top-tier professional. Boss Archer might have suppressed her image, but he was utterly dependent on her results.
By the time she finished every last教案 and consultation, the clock struck midnight.
To save up enough money, she was burning the candle at both ends. Fourteen hours of high-intensity work had left her lightheaded. As she walked out of the lobby into the cool spring night, she instinctively reached for her keys to the bike shed—only to remember.
Her scooter was back at the house. She had arrived in William Knight's car.
William Knight...
The man she had only met twice, yet was now legally bound to. Was he thousands of miles away across the country, or was he currently at some glittering gala?
Beijing, Central Business District.
In a top-floor private office, the minimalist decor radiated a cold, unapproachable prestige.
William Knight was hunched over a desk, finalizing a massive cross-border merger. He sat perfectly upright, the rhythmic scratch of his fountain pen against paper the only sound in the room. His handwriting was like the man himself: sharp, deep, and carrying an undeniable weight of authority.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated violently against the desk.
The moment he picked up, his grandmother's energetic voice boomed through the line. "William! You brat! The date ended hours ago and you haven't said a word. Did you scare that poor girl off with that cold attitude of yours again?"
In the old lady's eyes, her grandson was perfect in every way—except for his razor-sharp tongue and his icy heart. She lived in constant fear that the Knight family line would end with him.
William put down his pen and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Grandmother," he said calmly, "I got married."
Silence hung on the line for three full seconds before she spoke, confused. "Married? What do you mean? What international certificate did you go and pass now?"
"A marriage license," William corrected her. "I married the woman from the blind date today."
"Oh, Good Lord!" His grandmother's blood pressure seemed to stabilize instantly, replaced by pure ecstasy. "Really? You aren't teasing me? Quick, bring her home! I need to see her. I have a massive red envelope waiting for her!"
"I'm afraid that's not possible right now," William said tonelessly. "A project in China had a bit of an emergency. I'm currently in Beijing."
The laughter stopped. Her voice turned stern. "William Knight, are you even a man? Leaving your bride alone on your very first day of marriage? Do you have any idea how insecure that makes a girl feel?"
The image of Diana flashed through William's mind—the way her ears turned red when he kissed her, her fierce independence, and her sharp wit. "She's very independent," he replied. "I don't think she minds."
He remembered how decisively she had signed the agreement. Mutual non-interference.
"If she doesn't mind, it's because she's graceful. If you don't mind, it's because you're an idiot!" the old lady snapped. "I don't care how big the deal is. Wrap it up, apologize sincerely, and get back to your wife. Do you hear me?"
As he thought of Diana's flushed face and her indignant glare, the corner of William's mouth quirked into the faintest hint of a smile. Usually, this kind of nagging irritated him. This time, he simply murmured:
"I hear you."