Shanghai, the city that never sleeps, sparkled like a symphony of fallen stars touching the earth. In one corner of the Huangpu District, nestled in an apartment overlooking the Huangpu River, sat a handsome young man, aged twenty-six.

Zheng Minghao. His name carried a certain weight, but his usual charming smile—the one that could dazzle any woman—was absent. At this moment, he found himself caught between two realities.

"One year, Minghao! I'm giving you one year to get married, or you can kiss Zheng Global Holdings goodbye!" Zheng Renzhong’s deep voice echoed through the luxurious dining room of Minghao’s apartment.

The wagyu steak—worth three months of an average employee's salary—suddenly felt tough and unpalatable. Nearly choking on it, Minghao's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the eighty-year-old man who, despite his age, still looked impressively fit. Time had not dulled Zheng Renzhong’s sharp features, only adding an air of dignity.

"Grandfather, this has to be a joke, right? Who gets married because of an ultimatum these days? That’s so outdated!"

Renzhong shot him a piercing glance over his glasses.

"Outdated? Let me clarify, then. Your Lotus Fortune House, your extravagant films, this luxurious apartment—all of it is funded by the family’s company. Without this inheritance, you’ll be bankrupt."

"Bankrupt?" Minghao let out a nervous laugh, glancing at his assistant, Bing Yi, who stood awkwardly in the corner.

Bing Yi, whose good looks rivaled his boss’s, gave a small nod, as if silently confirming, “Yes, boss, your accounts are as dry as the Gobi Desert.”

"Not to mention, your third film is costing a fortune. Your aversion to seeking investors because you don’t want to be dictated by them—it’s becoming a problem, Minghao. Your idealism comes at a high price."

The tall owner of the talent agency Lotus Fortune House chewed his wagyu steak with a pout. He avoided outside funding to preserve his creative control. As an actor, director, and producer, maintaining the authenticity of his stories without interference from materialistic financiers was paramount.

Thankfully, his last two films had been massive successes. The profits were enough to keep the agency running and fund one more project.

Or so he thought.

Minghao sighed bitterly, recalling how his latest film project had gone off track. Worse, when he sought additional funding from the Zheng family patriarch, he was met with this ultimatum to marry and take over the family business.

“You can either find a wife or find a new job. Your choice,” Renzhong said with finality before casually returning to his cup of green tea, as though this was just another trivial matter.

Minghao waited until his grandfather left the apartment before grilling Bing Yi for every detail about Renzhong’s demands.

“I think your grandfather’s advancing age is making him impatient,” Bing Yi said wisely.

“My father and uncle are still around. They can run the company, can’t they?” Minghao paced back and forth.

Bing Yi adjusted his slipping glasses and gave a sly grin.

“They could, but...”

“But what?” Minghao pressed.

“I think Master Zheng is fed up with his grandsons’ behavior,” Bing Yi replied bluntly. “Your family’s business spans shipping, real estate, and technology. But the last two heirs are off doing their own thing in the entertainment world. What grandfather wouldn’t be annoyed?”

Bing Yi’s pointed gaze fell on Minghao, the second and youngest heir of the Zheng family, who often graced the tabloids with his achievements alongside a string of romantic scandals.

“I heard the same conditions for inheriting Zheng Global Holdings were given to your cousin as well.”

Minghao’s eyes widened. “Yuxi? Zheng Yuxi? The Fire God who’s untouchable to women?”

Bing Yi clicked his tongue. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you two. You’re from the same bloodline, but you’re total opposites. Master Yuxi is notorious for being cold toward women, while you...well, you’re known for your string of conquests.”

“Do you want your salary cut?” Minghao glared.

“You already cut my salary last month, honorable Zheng Minghao. If you do it again, I’ll happily report you to the workers’ union for exploitation,” Bing Yi replied calmly.

Minghao’s eyes flashed, but before he could retort, Bing Yi continued.

“And considering your history of scandals, I doubt your family would be thrilled to clean up another one.”

“You should be my grandfather’s assistant instead. You both love making threats,” Minghao grumbled.

Bing Yi ignored the remark. Pouring himself a glass of wine, he strolled toward the floor-to-ceiling window that showcased the dazzling night view of the Huangpu River.

“My sources at Master Yuxi’s residence say he’s already turned down two women your grandfather tried to set him up with.”

Minghao’s curiosity was piqued. “You’re more of a gossip than the ladies.”

Bing Yi nodded solemnly, as though the comment were a compliment.

“The daughters of the Xu and Lu families were rejected outright by your cousin.”

Minghao let out a low whistle, his face lighting up with delight. He clapped his hands in mock celebration.

“For once, I appreciate our similarity. I’ll bet Yuxi-da ge hates arranged marriages as much as I do.”

Bing Yi studied his boss’s expression. “Isn’t your relationship with Master Yuxi still rocky?”

Minghao shrugged, flashing a wide grin. To women, it was a charming smile. To Bing Yi, it was the smirk of a wolf on the hunt.

“I’m off, Bing Yi.”

“Zheng Minghao! Don’t cause any trouble! I don’t want to clean up your mess again! Hey, Minghao!”

But Minghao ignored his assistant’s protests, striding out of the apartment building. His private elevator took him directly to the underground parking lot, sparing him the need to interact with anyone in the lobby.

And then he got stuck in traffic.

“Damn it!” Minghao smacked the steering wheel. Shanghai’s 9 PM gridlock felt like a small personal hell.

It took considerable effort to find a spot to pull over. He texted Bing Yi to retrieve the car and continued toward his agency on foot.

Adjusting his mask securely over his face and pulling his bucket hat low, Minghao maneuvered through Tangjiawan. As one of China’s top-tier actors, he couldn’t risk being recognized in public—it could spell disaster.

“WATCH OUT!” a woman’s voice rang out, jolting him from his thoughts.

Minghao turned just in time to see a speeding bicycle barreling toward him. He tried to dodge, but it was too late. The impact sent him crashing into a fruit stand, scattering apples and oranges everywhere.

Face pale, Minghao groaned. The last thing he needed after a stressful dinner was to be recognized in a scene like this.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!” The woman hurried off her bike, her long black hair swaying as she rushed to Minghao’s side.

He frowned, not understanding her foreign words. She held a coffee cup in a paper bag, which wobbled precariously as she approached.

Her slim figure swayed as though she might trip, and Minghao braced himself. He should have stepped back, but her panicked gaze and full lips froze him in place.

Something hot and wet splashed onto his pants.

Mortified, Minghao looked down, only to realize her coffee had spilled all over him.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” The woman frantically tried to wipe his pants.

Instinctively, Minghao stepped away, but the woman persisted, determined to clean up the mess. Unfortunately, her efforts landed her hand in a very sensitive area.

For a moment, they both froze.

“Leave,” Minghao growled.

She didn’t move.

“LEAVE!” he barked.

Startled, she stumbled, grabbing onto something for balance—unfortunately, it was Minghao’s crotch.

“YOU IDIOT!” Minghao’s furious scream echoed down the street.

~ TO BE CONTINUED ~