Lian Hao's head throbbed as his eyelids fluttered open, and his gaze immediately fell upon the unfamiliar surroundings. The faded wallpaper, the cracked windows, and the general sense of neglect—it was nothing like his own neat, well-kept apartment. His heart pounded in his chest as reality slowly started to crash over him.
"What... what is happening?" he muttered groggily, his voice rising as panic set in. His eyes darted around the room, trying to make sense of it all. "Have I… have I been transported into the novel?!"
His footsteps quickened as he paced back and forth, desperately searching for some explanation, for anything that could confirm his rapidly spiraling thoughts.
DING DING
A soft, mechanical chime filled the room, snapping him out of his thoughts.
System Online. Authenticating Host. Connected.
A voice—clear and oddly welcoming—spoke from the air itself.
"Hello, Host Lian Hao!"
Lian Hao froze, his heart skipping a beat as he turned, eyes wide, scanning the empty room for the source of the voice. "What... what's going on? Hello?!" he shouted, growing more confused by the second.
"Hello, Host! Welcome to this world!"
A strange warmth in the voice didn't do much to ease his growing sense of disbelief. He rubbed his temples, trying to process the flood of new information. "What do you mean, 'this world'?"
The voice continued, as if eager to fill in the blanks.
"You are Lian Hao, 20 years old, a university student majoring in art and design. The original host of this body passed away due to heartbreak, and now, a new soul has taken their place. The body has no parents nor siblings left in this world. Welcome to your new life."
For a long moment, Lian Hao just stood there, frozen in place. His mind reeled, trying to catch up with the bizarre situation unfolding around him. Finally, he let out a small, incredulous laugh. "I have a system. I really… I really transmigrated, didn't I?"
"Correct, Host."
Lian Hao let out a sigh, a strange sense of acceptance settling over him. Well, if this was his new reality, there was no use fighting it. He might as well make the best of it. Slowly, he sank onto the worn couch, leaning back with a resigned but curious expression.
"System," he called out, settling into his new role.
"Yes, Host?"
He took a deep breath, his curiosity growing. "Please, give me the basic information about this world."
"As you wish, Host."
The voice seemed to hum with purpose.
"This world is centered around B City, a cutting-edge metropolis in B Country, renowned for its innovation and wealth. Your mission here is simple—find the villain, Han Yuzhou, and make him fall in love with you. Together, we must ensure he finds his happiness and is not ruined by the main protagonist."
Lian Hao raised an eyebrow, already starting to feel the weight of this new, improbable task. "Wait, the main protagonist? Who is he?"
"The main protagonist, Ye Xiaocheng, is 18 years old and the legitimate son of the Ye Family, one of the oldest and most powerful families in B City. Though their influence has waned in recent years, they remain a force to be reckoned with. There's a twist, however. Ye Xiaocheng was switched at birth, and it wasn't until his 18th birthday that he discovered he was the true heir to the Ye Family and was brought back by Grandfather Ye. While the boy raised in his place, Ye Hanwen, still remains in the family. Ye Xiaocheng is cunning and deceitful, with a nature as cold as it is cruel. He is far from a hero, Host."
Lian Hao processed the new information, nodding slowly as he pieced together the world he now inhabited. "I see… Ye Xiaocheng sounds like trouble." He exhaled, then continued with a new question. "Now tell me about Han Yuzhou. What's his story?"
"Han Yuzhou, age 27, is the heir and CEO of Han Corporation, one of the most influential conglomerates in B City and all of B Country. With a net worth surpassing 20 billion, his empire spans across industries, including infrastructure and technology. He is not only the wealthiest man in the country but also the most eligible bachelor. His intelligence is unmatched, his business acumen ruthless. Known as 'The Untamed King,' Han Yuzhou's reputation for being cold, calculating, and fiercely independent has earned him admiration and fear alike. Despite his wealth and power, he has yet to settle down, leaving the world wondering if anyone will ever be able to capture his heart."
Lian Hao blinked, processing the flood of details. "Wow... talk about impressive stats." His voice was tinged with awe, his mind racing as the pieces of the world around him began to form into something tangible.
"Well," he muttered with a grin, "this could be interesting." He then stands up and walks over to his bathroom to see his reflection in the mirror and his lips turns to a smile.
"What a face!" Lian Hao raises his hand and touches his eyes, lips, jawline, and the tip of his nose, "My goodness what a good looking face this body has!" The mission had just become a lot easier now that the body has a face like this. Who could resist a face this handsome?
In his original world, Lian Hao had crossed paths with countless breathtaking beauties—both men and women, yet none had ever compared to the face he now wore. With light brown hair that shimmered under the light, eyes that were wide and captivating, and a nose that was delicately shaped, he seemed to embody every standard of perfection. His sharp jawline gave his features an edge, while his slim waist and perfectly proportioned height made him the very picture of the "ideal type" that so many people dreamed of.
It was as if this new body had been sculpted to be admired from every angle, the kind of beauty that made heads turn without even trying.
Lian Hao tore his gaze away from the mirror, his reflection still fresh in his mind. He glanced around the apartment once more, his eyes narrowing as he took in the chaotic mess that surrounded him. Dust and clutter littered every corner, a stark contrast to the pristine image he had just admired. With a resigned sigh, he grabbed a pair of rubber gloves from the bathroom, his fingers tightening around them as he prepared to take action.
No way was he going to live in this filth.
He moved swiftly, scrubbing, wiping, and polishing every nook and cranny of his small space. He didn't care if it was just a temporary residence—every speck of dust had to go. It didn't take long before his arms began to ache and his forehead glistened with sweat, but he didn't stop. For the next hour, the apartment was his battlefield, and he was determined to emerge victorious.
When he finally stepped back, breathing heavily but satisfied, the transformation was stunning. The room gleamed in the soft afternoon light, every surface spotless, every corner pristine. Lian Hao took a moment to admire the fruits of his labor, a small smile tugging at his lips. This, at least, was something he could control.
His clothes clung to his body, damp with sweat, reminding him that it was time for a break. Without hesitation, he headed for the bathroom, shedding his dirty clothes and stepping into a refreshing shower. The warm water washed away the fatigue, and when he emerged, he felt like a new man. He slipped into fresh clothes, the soft fabric a welcome change, and began his usual routine: skincare and styling his hair in a way that looked effortlessly natural.
Satisfied with his appearance, he stood in front of the mirror, inhaling deeply. It was time to get serious. He called out to the system, the one thing that had made sense in this whirlwind of confusion.
"System."
"Yes, host."
"I'm ready now," Lian Hao said, his voice steady with purpose. "Give me the tasks for today."
"As you command, Host." The system's voice was calm and obedient. "Today is Thursday. Within the next hour, you will return to your classes and study as usual. Lucky for you, both you and the original host share a talent for painting, so this should be an easy task."
Lian Hao couldn't help but smile slightly, feeling a sense of relief. His talent for art had always been his proudest achievement in his previous life. It had won him a scholarship, and now it seemed like this new identity wasn't much different. He had something to be grateful for, something that connected the old him to the new.
For a brief moment, though, a pang of longing crept in. He thought of his family and friends from the other world—the ones he would never see again. But then he shook it off, resolving that whatever the reasons for his sudden arrival here, he was going to make the best of it. Perhaps this was all part of a bigger plan.
With a decisive nod, he grabbed his bag, filled with small canvases, brushes, and paints. He glanced at his phone and stepped toward the door, locking it behind him.
As he stepped outside, the world around him took shape. The neighborhood was surprisingly convenient, everything he needed was within walking distance. A park, a gym, sports fields, and a variety of restaurants were all just a few minutes walk away. While his apartment left much to be desired, the surrounding area made up for it. Lian Hao felt a small sense of relief.
It wasn't perfect, but it would do.
With that he starts walking towards his campus which turns out only takes 10 minutes from his apartment. He was incredibly happy by the short distance as the day was growing hotter by the minute. Opening the class door he takes a seat by the window in the back left side of the class, in his original world he always likes to seat in this particular spot. Its the one spot the he can lean against the window and sees the outside, yet also sees the entirety of the class from the inside.
"Lian Hao! It's been ages, where have you been?" A cheerful voice broke through the stillness, its brightness pulling him from his thoughts. Lian Hao turned, and his gaze landed on a boy with a playful smile and unruly curly hair. The boy's warmth was instantly infectious, and before he could respond, the voice in his head spoke up.
"This is your best friend in this world, Shen Yue. He's your age and takes the same classes as you."
Lian Hao nodded inwardly, his lips curving into a smile as he returned Shen Yue's greeting. "Ah, Shen Yue! I've just been feeling a little under the weather the past few days, that's why I've been absent from class." His voice held a casual lightness, but Shen Yue was already pressing his palm to Lian Hao's forehead, his brow furrowed with concern.
Lian Hao chuckled, pushing his friend's hand away gently. "I'm all fine now, really."
Shen Yue's eyes widened in mock horror. "Sick? You, the pride of our department? Impossible! You can't afford to be sick! You need to eat more, drink more, and make sure you don't get dehydrated!" He clung to Lian Hao's arm with a dramatic flair, his concern both endearing and exaggerated.
Lian Hao flashed a teasing smile. "I know, that's why I'm back, right?"
Shen Yue nodded sagely, releasing his hold but leaning closer, his voice lowering as if about to share a great secret. "Well, since you've been absent, I've got all the juicy gossip that's been circulating around the campus." Lian Hao's curiosity piqued, and he leaned in, eager for the story.
Shen Yue's eyes sparkled as he continued. "Apparently, a new student transferred into the Department of Theatre, and it's causing quite the stir. The campus forums are buzzing with talk. His name is Ye Xiaocheng."
Lian Hao froze for a split second, his lips curling into a small, knowing smirk. Ah, so it's him. Turns out we're in the same university.
Shen Yue, completely oblivious to Lian Hao's thoughts, dove right into the drama. "The rumors are flying, and it's like a soap opera. They're saying that Ye Xiaocheng is the true heir of the Ye Family, and he's only just been brought back by his grandfather. But wait, it gets even better!"
Lian Hao raised an eyebrow, silently urging his friend to continue.
"Ye Hanwen—the one who's been living as the Ye Family's heir—turns out he's the fake Young Master! Can you believe it? And now, the entire campus is caught up in this real vs. fake drama. The forums are exploding with debates. Honestly, it's like watching a reality show unfold."
Shen Yue's eyes were wide with excitement, clearly caught up in the scandal. He paused dramatically before continuing, his voice now full of indignation. "And here's the kicker: Ye Xiaocheng, being the arrogant bastard he is, made a complete fool of Ye Hanwen a few days ago. He publicly humiliated him, saying that someone like Ye Hanwen—an adopted child—should never have the audacity to study in the same university as him. Can you believe that? Ye Hanwen didn't even know he was switched at birth! It's outrageous! Honestly, Ye Xiaocheng has no right to say such horrible things!"
Lian Hao let out a soft exhale, placing a comforting hand on Shen Yue's shoulder as his friend fumed with anger. "That's because of his insecurities," he said, his tone calm but laced with disdain. "Ye Xiaocheng knows he was just brought back by the Ye Family. He hasn't had a chance to prove his worth, and he's terrified that the 'fake' Young Master might actually be more loved than he is. So, he tries to belittle him with cruel words. It's nothing more than his own deep-rooted fear, playing out in the worst way possible."
Shen Yue's jaw tightened, nodding in agreement. "Ugh, people like that are just so bitter and ugly-hearted. Let's just hope we never have to cross paths with him."
Lian Hao smiled, his expression a touch colder. "Of course. People with hearts like that have no place in our lives. They can stay as far away as possible." Better yet stay far away from Han Yuzhou as well.
The class began, and soon enough, the professor announced a project due in a week. As the rest of the class groaned in unison, Lian Hao remained unaffected, his spirits soaring. He was finally painting again—the feeling of the brush in his hand, the vivid colors blending on the canvas—it was like reuniting with an old friend he had longed for.
By noon, the class had ended, and Shen Yue was already pulling Lian Hao toward the cafeteria for lunch. They arrived early, yet to their surprise, a line had already begun to form. Shen Yue's brows furrowed in disbelief. "We rushed here so fast, how is there already a line?!"
Lian Hao chuckled softly, his voice like the gentle ripple of water. "It's lunch time, Yueyue," he replied, his tone both light and teasing. The sound of his voice seemed to catch the attention of others in line, as several students glanced back, momentarily distracted by his presence. Lian Hao locked eyes with one of them, a fleeting smile curving his lips. The boy immediately felt his cheeks flush with warmth, his gaze dropping nervously to his hands.
"Y-you can go ahead of me if you want…" the boy stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, fingers fidgeting anxiously.
Lian Hao raised a brow, his expression sincere. "Really? Is that okay?" His words were as soft and gentle as a summer breeze. The boy's face turned a deeper shade of red, and he nodded quickly, his voice barely audible. "O-of course!"
With a graceful nod, Lian Hao stepped forward, his presence calm and composed. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice like a melodic note in the air.
The boy, flustered but clearly delighted, waved his hands dismissively. "N-no, it's fine!" he stuttered, stepping aside to allow Lian Hao to go ahead.
Shen Yue, ever the playful one, nudged Lian Hao with a grin. "Lianlian, your face is like a jackpot in moments like this!" he said, giving a thumbs-up as he watched Lian Hao's interaction with the boy. Lian Hao laughed, the sound light and warm, as they made their way to the counter.
Lian Hao ordered the pork belly and vegetables set, meanwhile Shen Yue ordered the braised beef and vegetables set. Lian Hao looked around the cafeteria for an empty table and found none, his eyes scanning the room.
Shen Yue then calls him, "Lianlian! We can sit here!" Lian Hao turns his head and founds Shen Yue approaching a table fill with three people and some empty seats next to them. Lian Hao then smiles and walks towards them.
With a soft smile, Lian Hao walked over to join him. As he approached, Shen Yue gestured to the group. "Lianlian, these are my friends from the architecture department. This is Wang Lin, Bei Jingmo, and Zhang Hua. We met back during orientation."
Lian Hao placed his tray on the table and sat next to Shen Yue, offering the group a polite nod. "Hello, everyone. My name is Lian Hao." His voice, warm and effortlessly charming, seemed to fill the space, and as he flashed a smile, it was as if the entire room shifted in response.
Wang Lin, seated directly opposite Lian Hao, felt an unexpected flush rise to his face. His throat suddenly seemed tight, and he cleared it nervously before looking away, his voice faltering. "H-hello."
Lian Hao, sensing the change in the atmosphere, couldn't help but notice the boy's sudden unease. Just then, the person sitting next to Wang Lin—Bei Jingmo—let out a teasing laugh, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Wang Ge, why are you suddenly so shy?" Bei Jingmo teased, playfully poking his friend in the side. He grinned as he saw Wang Lin's ears turn an even brighter shade of red.
"Could it be... that you have a crush on Lian Hao~?" Bei Jingmo prodded further, his voice light with amusement.
Wang Lin, flustered beyond belief, gave his friend a sharp nudge in the chest, causing Bei Jingmo to gasp and cough violently.
"You son of a—" Wang Lin's attempt at a retort was swallowed by the sound of his friend's endless coughing fit, leaving him to glare at his teasing companion helplessly.
Lian Hao couldn't help but chuckle softly at their antics, the playful dynamic between the two making him smile. Shen Yue, who had been watching the scene unfold, rolled his eyes with a sigh. "Ignore them, Lianlian," he said, shaking his head. "They're all a bunch of losers."
"Hey that's not what you said to us during the first week of orientation." Zhang Hua chimes in his eyes grinning looking at Shen Yue in which he just sticks out his tounge. Lian Hao looks at the people in front of him and feels a bit nostalgic, back in his world his friends would also joke around like this.
"Lianlian what are you planning to do after class?" Shen Yue asks, interrupting him from his train of thoughts. "Oh, uhm I have to go a cafe. They hired me to paint their space." He said. Shen Yue's face immediately fell, and he threw his arms around Lian Hao in mock desperation. "Oh noooo! I was just about to ask you to come with us to karaoke tonight! You're going to leave me alone with these three idiots?" He gestured dramatically toward his friends, who were seated at the table.
Lian Hao couldn't help but laugh, gently disentangling himself from Shen Yue's tight grip.
Wang Lin, who had been silently observing the exchange, couldn't resist chiming in. "Yeah, who's going to keep Shen Yue from getting us kicked out of the karaoke bar with his... unique singing skills?" he teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm. The others burst into laughter as Shen Yue threw an exaggerated glare at Wang Lin. Lian Hao couldn't help but laugh a little harder at Wang Lin's comment, which only seemed to make Shen Yue pout even more. He turned to Lian Hao, crossing his arms and feigning a hurt expression. "Lianlian, how could you join in on their antics?"
Lian Hao smiled warmly and reached out to gently pat Shen Yue's head. "Okay, okay, Yueyue, I'm sorry. Don't be upset."
Shen Yue immediately melted, his pout turning into a bright smile as he threw his arms around Lian Hao in a hug. "Lianlian always knows how to make me feel better, unlike these three clowns." He gestured toward the others with a playful roll of his eyes, earning another round of laughter from the group.
"Host, it is time to go the cafe and meet Han Yuzhou."
The system's voice echoed in Lian Hao's mind, and he glanced at his wristwatch, realizing it was already 1 p.m. He stands up and gathered his things and turned to Shen Yue and his friends. "Well, I've got to go," he said with a smile. Shen Yue and the others then nods and waves him goodbye.
Lian Hao hopped onto a bus near the school, getting off at the nearest stop to the café. This café was a well-known gem in the area, famous for its exceptional coffee. Perhaps that's why Han Yuzhou sometimes stopped by to grab a cup himself.
Stepping inside, Lian Hao greeted the owners with a bright smile and a respectful bow. "You're here, Lian Hao! That's good," the lady said warmly. The man, a tall figure with a welcoming demeanor, gestured for him to follow. He led Lian Hao to a cozy corner, the perfect spot for painting. The location offered a sweeping view of the entire café floor, a dream for any artist.
"You can start whenever you're ready," the lady added. "I'll bring your drink and some snacks for you."
Lian Hao nodded with a grateful smile, thanking them both as he set down his bag and began unpacking his supplies. He lean back into his chair and began to sketch the outlines of the cafe. The lady not long after brings in his drink and snacks and left him be while they continue to serve customers.
Lian Hao was so deeply immersed in capturing the essence of the café on his blank canvas that the world around him seemed to fade away. His fingers moved with purpose, sketching the curves of the wooden furniture, the soft flicker of light from the overhead lamps, and the quiet hum of conversation in the background. For a moment, he completely forgot why he was there—forgot about the impending meeting with Han Yuzhou.
"Host, Han Yuzhou is arriving soon."
The voice of the system broke through his concentration like a whisper on the wind. Lian Hao's hand paused for the briefest moment as he processed the message, but he didn't let it disrupt his flow. He made the final strokes on his sketch, ensuring every detail was perfect, before reaching for his brush and paint. His body moved like an artist possessed, every motion deliberate as he began to bring his vision to life. The easel stood tall, the canvas a symbol of his intent.
The low murmur of the café began to quiet as the customers turned their attention to the young man before them. Lian Hao's light brown hair framed his face, and with each stroke of his brush, he became more of a living masterpiece. The customers watched in awe, captivated by the delicate, almost hypnotic way he painted.
"Host, Han Yuzhou is here."
A surge of awareness swept through Lian Hao, but his expression remained calm and collected. He allowed himself the smallest of smiles, just enough to stir his lips into a hint of mystery. But that smile didn't last long. His focus returned to the canvas, his brush moving in graceful arcs, a soft dance of color and form.
He had one goal—one carefully crafted objective: to make Han Yuzhou curious. Not too much, not too little. Just enough to intrigue him, to make him wonder. To make him feel that magnetic pull that would force him to seek Lian Hao out again, desperate for a second meeting. That was the plan, and he would execute it flawlessly.
And as the first glimpse of Han Yuzhou entered his peripheral vision, Lian Hao then drops his brush on purpose enough so that Han Yuzhou can see his side profile. He can feel a certain eyes eyeing on him and so he lets his face turned a little so that he can see him. Lian Hao then a tall and domineering figure standing near the door.
He then locked eyes with Han Yuzhou and lets a small and polite smile before turning his head back and resuming his painting.
"Wonderful job Host. Han Yuzhou is intrigued."
Lian Hao smirks and continues on creating bold strokes with his brush. He places down a brush and picks up a next one dipping it in a different color before outlining the details of the sketch.
"Han Yuzhou has placed his order and is now seated by the window—with the perfect view of you, Host."
A soft smirk tugged at the corner of Lian Hao's lips. Well then, he thought, if he's watching, I might as well give him something worth watching.
After hours of painting, a quiet ache had settled into his muscles. His brush stilled, resting gently on the edge of the table as he leaned back slightly in his chair. Then, with languid grace, he raised his arms above his head in a stretch, his slender frame arching just enough to cause the hem of his shirt to lift, revealing a sliver of pale, toned waist beneath the fabric.
Across the café, seated in his usual place by the window, Han Yuzhou's eyes never left him. His gaze, cool and unreadable just moments before, darkened slightly as he watched the quiet display. The hand wrapped around his coffee cup subtly tightened, knuckles straining just enough to betray the tension he refused to show.
That small, unintentional glimpse—soft skin, delicate lines, effortless allure—lingered in Han Yuzhou's mind like the taste of something forbidden.
Lian Hao, fully aware of the effect, let his arms drop slowly and resumed painting, as if nothing at all had happened. But in the air between them, something had unmistakably shifted. After a couple more minutes the system's sound rang in his mind.
"Han Yuzhou has left the cafe, Host. Great job today. You have definitely piqued his interest."
Lian Hao nods and sighs in relief, Thank God the first meeting was a success. Lian Hao still remembers the figure and face of the villain in this world. Damn, he is so big and tall. Lian Hao could feel himself getting a bit giddy and excited, he really liked that type of men. Half an hour later Lian Hao had finished half the painting and presented it to the owners. They complimented the art saying it was the best painting they had ever seen.
"You are very talented! You've work hard today, you can come again on Saturday to finish the work." The lady said and gave Lian Hao half his fee. Lian Hao thanked the owner before cleaning up his supplies and putting it inside his bag before leaving the cafe and heading home.
[Meanwhile at Han Corporation]
Han Yuzhou had returned from his usual visit to his favorite café hours ago, yet his mind refused to settle. His office was flooded with paperwork, reports blinking on multiple screens, but none of it held his attention.
Instead, a single image played on loop behind his eyes, the boy with light brown hair, delicate features, and the effortless grace of someone completely unaware of how captivating he truly was. That quiet stretch, that flash of skin beneath his shirt… it was burned into Han Yuzhou's memory with startling clarity.
His throat felt dry.
With a quiet exhale, he reached toward the sleek shelf behind his desk, fingers closing around a bottle of aged whiskey from his private collection. Pouring himself a measure, he brought the glass to his lips and took a slow, deliberate sip. The burn of the liquor did little to distract him.
With a flick of his finger, he pressed the intercom button.
"Secretary Huang," his voice came through, cool and commanding. "Come in."
Moments later, the door to his office opened with a soft click, and Huang Lin entered, as efficient as ever. "Yes, CEO Han. How may I assist you?"
Han Yuzhou didn't look up immediately. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, then finally fixed his piercing gaze on his secretary. "The young man from the café earlier today. I want every detail you can find on him—name, background, school, schedule. Everything."
Huang Lin blinked, momentarily stunned. In all his years working under Han Yuzhou, he had never once seen him express interest in anyone—let alone enough to make such a request. There had been rumors of admirers and scandals, but Han Yuzhou always remained untouchable. Icy. Focused.
"Understood," Huang Lin replied quickly, masking his surprise. "Do you have a name?"
"No. But I want footage from the café—every angle. And a still image of him. Start with that."
"Yes, sir." Huang Lin gave a small bow, then turned to leave.
As the door shut behind him, Han Yuzhou finally let his head fall back against the chair, eyes narrowed in thought.
That boy… the quiet confidence, the elegance in his fingertips, the curve of his smile—it had stirred something in him. Something he hadn't felt in a very, very long time.
And he wasn't about to let that disappear without a name.
Huang Lin closed the office door behind him, his face composed, though his mind was racing.
CEO Han… interested in someone? Personally?
It was unprecedented.
Without wasting a moment, he headed straight for his desk in the outer office and powered up his secure terminal. A few keystrokes brought up his private line to the café's management. He'd personally handled a few of their security contracts, it wasn't difficult to make a discreet request.
"Send me today's CCTV footage from noon to three p.m. I want every angle of the interior. Priority level: immediate."
Minutes later, the footage began downloading. Huang Lin's sharp eyes scanned each frame methodically, speeding through the usual stream of customers—until he saw him.
Light brown hair. Clear, youthful features. Slim build. The boy moved with a quiet grace, seated at an easel in the corner, painting with a kind of soft intensity that made time slow around him.
Huang Lin paused the frame, capturing a perfect still of the boy mid-stretch—shirt rising just enough to hint at the waistline beneath.
No wonder, Huang Lin thought, lips twitching slightly.
He ran the image through the facial recognition database linked to the city university system. Seconds later, a match appeared.
Name: Lian Hao
Age: 20
Student ID: 09741
Major: Art and Design
University: B City National University
Status: Active undergraduate
Residence: South Yue District, Apartment Block 4
And there it is. Huang Lin printed the profile and collected the security footage file before making his way back to the office. He knocked once on the polished door.
"Come in," came the cool voice from inside.
Huang Lin entered, placing a folder neatly on Han Yuzhou's desk along with a tablet displaying the paused image of Lian Hao.
"His name is Lian Hao. Twenty years old. Art and Design student at B City National University. That café is one of his part-time commissions, he was hired to paint their interior."
Han Yuzhou said nothing, his gaze fixed on the image of Lian Hao. That same stretch—frozen now on screen—was somehow even more enticing in stillness.
"And the rest?"
"He lives in South Yue District in the student housing. Top of his class. No known relationships. Quiet. Clean reputation. Talented in painting, scholarship winner. A model student."
Han Yuzhou's fingers tapped once on the desk. "Perfect."
He looked up, eyes gleaming with interest. "Keep monitoring him. Discreetly. I want to know where he goes, who he speaks to… and if anyone else is watching him."
"Yes, CEO Han." Huang Lin bowed again, professional as always, though inwardly more intrigued than he'd ever been. Who are you really, Lian Hao… and what exactly did you do to catch the eye of the Untamed King?
*
The next morning arrived with soft sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains of Lian Hao's small apartment. He stirred beneath the covers, yawning gently before slipping out of bed. His movements were unhurried, graceful, even in routine, he carried himself with a quiet charm.
After washing up and running through his morning skincare, he changed into his usual school attire: loose cream-colored trousers, a fitted beige knit, and a brown messenger bag slung across his shoulder. His hair, slightly tousled and light in the morning sun, fell naturally into place. He looked effortlessly put together, the kind of beauty that drew glances without trying.
By the time he arrived at the university gates, Shen Yue was already waiting—bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes lighting up the moment he saw him.
"Lianlian!" Shen Yue jogged over with a grin. "I got us two red bean buns and a soy milk. You better be touched."
Lian Hao chuckled, taking the warm bun with a soft smile. "You're spoiling me, Yueyue."
Shen Yue flipped his hair dramatically. "As I should! If I don't protect our department's flower, who will?"
They walked through campus together, the crisp air carrying early hints of spring. Lian Hao felt almost at peace—the events of the café the day before lingering in his memory, but not yet fully settled. He hadn't seen Han Yuzhou again, but the way those eyes had lingered on him… it was hard to forget.
"By the way," Shen Yue leaned in, lowering his voice as they neared the art building, "I checked the campus forum last night. People are still talking about Ye Xiaocheng and the whole fake young master drama."
Lian Hao raised an eyebrow, amused. "Is that still trending?"
"Of course it is. You should've seen the comment section—it's like a war zone. Team Real vs. Team Fake. Honestly, I'm just here for the popcorn."
Lian Hao smiled faintly, but his thoughts drifted elsewhere. He hadn't crossed paths with Ye Xiaocheng yet, but he knew it was inevitable. Everything in this world—the characters, the plot, the slow-burning fuse—was inching forward.
But for now, he just wanted a quiet moment. One more day as a student, laughing with his best friend, painting in peace, and eating buns on the way to class.
Just beyond the campus gates, nestled beneath the shade of an ancient oak, a sleek black car sat quietly, engine off, its presence nearly invisible among the rustling leaves and soft hum of student life.
Inside, behind tinted windows, Han Yuzhou watched in silence.
His eyes, sharp and unreadable, followed Lian Hao's every movement—every turn of the head, every tilt of his shoulders, every smile that lingered just a second too long on someone else's face.
And then—him.
The boy walking beside Lian Hao, too familiar, too close.
Han Yuzhou's voice sliced through the quiet interior, low and deliberate.
"Who is the boy with him?"
From the passenger seat, Huang Lin didn't hesitate. His tone was crisp, professional. "Shen Yue. Age twenty. Same department, same major. He's the youngest son of the Shen family—minor aristocracy, respectable lineage. According to records, he's Lian Hao's closest friend."
Han Yuzhou's gaze lingered on the two boys, shoulders brushing, laughter shared, a bond clearly etched in the space between them. Not long after the car drives away just like it had never been there in the first place.
*
Lian Hao and Shen Yue stepped into the art building just as the first bell chimed through the halls. The air was thick with the familiar scent of paper, turpentine, and faint traces of old charcoal—a comforting blend that always seemed to calm Lian Hao's heart.
The morning class was Advanced Color Theory, held in one of the sunlit studios on the third floor. Large windows spilled golden light across the hardwood floors, and easels were already being set up by other students, the quiet buzz of conversation filling the room.
"Let's sit by the windows today," Shen Yue said, dragging his supplies toward a corner bathed in warmth. Lian Hao followed, setting up beside him with practiced ease.
As their professor—a wiry older woman with silver hair tied into a braid—entered the room, the chatter died down.
"Today," she began, voice clear and commanding, "you will each work on a still life composition using limited color palettes. Focus on emotional resonance. I don't want realism, I want sensation. If your painting doesn't make me feel something, you're doing it wrong."
A soft murmur of nervous agreement swept through the class.
Lian Hao, however, smiled.
This—this was where he shined.
He dipped his brush in soft ochre and rose-tinted grey, blocking out the shadows of a single glass bottle and a dying lily arranged before him. His strokes were fluid, deliberate. He didn't just paint what he saw; he painted what the light felt like—gentle, almost tragic. As if even the objects in the room carried stories waiting to be heard.
He barely noticed the minutes ticking by. His world narrowed to the canvas and color, the hush of the classroom, and the rhythm of his breathing.
Across the room, Shen Yue kept stealing glances at him, shaking his head with a whisper of a smile. "You really were born to do this, you know…"
By the time class ended, the professor made her rounds, pausing in front of Lian Hao's easel longer than anyone else.
She nodded slowly, lips pursed, then murmured, "Yours… feels like longing."
Lian Hao blinked, then looked down at the muted bloom of color bleeding across his canvas. Longing?
Maybe… maybe she was right.
Shen Yue bumped him gently with an elbow. "Wanna skip lunch and go paint outside? Or do you have your mysterious café job again?"
Lian Hao chuckled softly, wiping his brushes clean. "No café today. Just you and me."
They had just finished packing their supplies and were heading across the courtyard when a wave of noise caught their attention. It came from just beyond the art building—shouts, hurried footsteps, and the unmistakable hum of excitement that only came with fresh gossip.
"What's happening?" Lian Hao asked a nearby student who was craning his neck toward the source.
The boy didn't even look at him, eyes sparkling with intrigue. "Looks like the real versus fake young master drama is going live. Everyone's heading over now." And with that, he jogged off, following the growing crowd.
Shen Yue let out a long sigh and crossed his arms. "Seriously? These people act like they've never seen family trauma before."
But before he could rant further, Lian Hao gently tugged his sleeve, eyes gleaming with playful curiosity. "Come on. Let's take a look too—I want to see what all the fuss is about."
Shen Yue groaned but gave in with a resigned nod. "Fine. But if I get secondhand embarrassment, I'm blaming you."
The crowd thickened as they neared the Department of Theatre. Students whispered behind their hands, phones subtly raised, faces turned toward the front steps where two figures stood locked in an emotionally charged standoff.
Ye Xiaocheng stood tall and poised, arms crossed, a cold smirk curling at the edge of his lips. His posture screamed superiority—like he owned the ground beneath their feet.
Facing him, Ye Hanwen looked like a dam about to burst. His head was lowered, fists clenched at his sides, his voice hoarse with restrained anger.
"What are you saying, Ye Xiaocheng? I've never stolen your life from you!" he shouted, his voice cracking beneath the weight of emotion.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a blade.
Lian Hao watched in silence, eyes flickering between the two brothers.
So, the plot has begun to unfold.
And the stage… was set.
The air crackled with tension as the crowd held its breath, watching the two brothers clash in the middle of the open courtyard. Ye Xiaocheng's smirk only deepened as he met his brother's fury with cold indifference.
"You're delusional, Ye Hanwen," Ye Xiaocheng's voice rang out, smooth and sharp. "Everyone in this school knows the truth now. You're nothing more than an impostor—an inconvenience in the Ye Family's legacy. Just because you've lived this lie for years doesn't mean I'll let you continue playing pretend."
Ye Hanwen's fists shook with anger, his nails digging into his palms as his frustration boiled over. "You think I asked for this?!" His voice cracked with desperation, his shoulders tense as he stepped forward. "I didn't ask to be swapped at birth!"
Shen Yue, who had been watching the scene unfold beside Lian Hao, muttered under his breath, "Well, this just went from soap opera to a full-blown tragedy."
Lian Hao's eyes narrowed as he observed the two brothers, his expression unreadable. What an interesting pair of brothers.
But just as Ye Hanwen stepped forward to get even closer to his brother, a voice rang out, cutting through the tension.
"Enough."
"Host, this is Xu Yanfei. The original male protagonist who has an interest in Ye Xiaocheng."
The voice rang out, commanding and firm. The crowd parted as a tall, confident figure stepped forward. It was Xu Yanfei, the original male lead, an enigmatic and influential figure who had long held the attention of many, including Ye Xiaocheng.
"Oh?" Lian Hao mused quietly to himself, his curiosity piqued. Interesting...
"Ye Hanwen," Xu Yanfei's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Haven't you had enough of your lies? You've already taken so much from Ye Xiaocheng. Stop torturing him any further."
His words were calm, but there was an undeniable authority in them as he stepped in front of Ye Xiaocheng, positioning himself as a shield, guarding the younger man from the fury of Ye Hanwen.
Lian Hao, standing just behind the crowd, leaned slightly toward Shen Yue, who had been watching the entire scene unfold. "Lian Hao, that's Young Master Xu—Xu Yanfei," Shen Yue murmured quietly, glancing at the tall figure. "I've heard my parents mention him. His family is one of the most powerful in B City."
The crowd fell into a hushed silence as Xu Yanfei stood tall, his imposing presence cutting through the tension like a sharp blade. His gaze never left Ye Hanwen, who stood frozen, unable to respond to the forceful interruption.
"Xu Yanfei," Ye Xiaocheng finally spoke, his voice strained but grateful. He stood behind the older boy, his fists clenched in barely restrained anger. "You shouldn't have to do this. I can handle it."
But Xu Yanfei didn't take his eyes off Ye Hanwen. "No," he replied, voice steady but firm. "You've already suffered enough. I won't stand by and watch you get humiliated any longer."
Hearing what he said Lian Hao rolls his eyes and yawn, this is boring. "Shen Yue let's leave. We've seen enough." Shen Yue nods and quietly slips away from the back of the crowd. They got out of there and walk towards their department building before parting ways as Shen Yue had a sudden call from his family that he had to go back home.
After parting ways with Shen Yue, Lian Hao found himself with a sudden craving for something warm and homemade, and so he decided to go to the supermarket. Arriving at the supermarket he grabs a bunch of ingredient and spices. The soft hum of music played overhead as he pushed a sleek metal cart through the aisles, picking out fresh vegetables, meat, and a handful of spices. His slender fingers brushed across bottles and boxes with quiet intention, his movements fluid and precise.
Eventually, he wandered into the dessert section, the faint sweetness of vanilla and cocoa hanging in the air. He was just reaching for a tin of matcha powder when—
Thud.
He collided with something solid—no, someone.
"Oh—!" Lian Hao instinctively stepped back, startled. "My goodness, I'm so sorry. Are you—"
His words halted, suspended mid-air the moment his eyes rose to meet the man before him.
Sharp jawline, midnight-black hair slicked neatly into place, and a tailored charcoal suit that hugged every line of power in his tall frame.
Han Yuzhou.
What is he doing here?
For a second, time seemed to stretch, his breath catching slightly in his throat. Han Yuzhou stood there, a single brow raised, the corner of his lips curled in the faintest hint of amusement, as if this encounter had been predicted in some silent script only he had read.
"You," Han Yuzhou said, his voice like velvet layered over steel, low and intimate. "We meet again."
Lian Hao's heart fluttered before he could stop it. He straightened himself, maintaining composure despite the way his skin prickled under the weight of that gaze. "Yeah, I saw you when I was painting at a local cafe." Lian Hao replied softly, a polite smile tugging at his lips.
Han Yuzhou's gaze sharpened slightly, his dark eyes gleaming with something unreadable—interest, curiosity, or perhaps a quiet hunger carefully veiled behind years of restraint.
"I remember," he said, his voice low and hoarse "You were hard to ignore."
Lian Hao blinked once, surprised by the boldness in the man's tone. "I thought CEOs were too busy to remember fleeting glances."
Han Yuzhou took a step closer, his towering frame casting a shadow that swallowed the soft supermarket light between them. "I remember what's worth remembering."
Lian Hao's breath hitched—just a little. His fingers curled loosely around the handle of his shopping basket, nails brushing the smooth plastic in a nervous habit. But still, he didn't back away. "Do you flirt with all artists you bump into? Or am I just lucky today?"
That earned a low chuckle from Han Yuzhou, deep and rich. "Are you fishing for compliments, or do you genuinely not know the effect you have?"
Lian Hao smiled, a little sly, a little soft. "I might have a hunch."
Han Yuzhou's eyes swept over him, casual but purposeful. "So do you often knock people over in supermarkets?" he asked, taking a deliberate step closer. The scent of his cologne, something dark and expensive—brushed against Lian Hao's skin like silk.
"Only the ones wearing thousand-dollar suits," Lian Hao answered smoothly, tilting his head just so, his tone teasing.
Han Yuzhou let out a quiet, amused breath, his gaze lingering. "Then I'll consider myself lucky."
Gathering himself, Lian Hao lifted his gaze with a playful glint in his eye, lips curling into a smile that was just shy of shy. "Hi," he said, voice soft and almost lilting. "I'm Lian Hao."
Han Yuzhou's eyes flicked over him, lingering just a little too long on the curve of his smile, the way his hair brushed against his cheekbones. His throat bobbed as he swallowed—slowly, deliberately—like he was trying to hide how much that voice affected him.
"Han Yuzhou," he replied, his tone low, deliberate, and just a bit huskier than before. His name sounded more like a promise than an introduction.
"Excellent work, Host.Han Yuzhou is most certainly intrigued."
Lian Hao exhaled softly, tension unwinding from his shoulders. Intrigued, huh?
Truth be told, he was too.
There was something about Han Yuzhou, sharp and refined like the edge of a perfectly honed blade, yet with a quiet heat simmering beneath the surface. It was dangerous. It was magnetic. And it thrilled him more than he wanted to admit.
Lian Hao cast a glance toward the man beside him, his heart fluttering like a ribbon caught in the wind. For a moment, he hesitated… and then, as if someone else had guided his lips forward, he heard himself speak.
"…Uhm," he began, voice almost shy, "Would you… maybe want to come over?"
Han Yuzhou raised a brow, amused—and curious.
"I'm making my signature beef curry tonight," Lian Hao continued, forcing himself to meet his eyes, cheeks flushed a delicate rose. "It's nothing fancy, but… I think you might like it."
For the first time, a genuine smile tugged at the corners of Han Yuzhou's mouth, slow and dangerous, like the soft crackle of fire in a dimly lit room.
His eyes darkened, not with menace—but with something far more intoxicating.
Desire.
"I don't usually accept dinner invitations from strangers," Han Yuzhou murmured, taking a step closer, his voice smooth as silk against skin. "But for you, I'll make an exception."
Lian Hao's heart skipped. Or maybe stopped. He couldn't tell anymore.
"Then," he said with a soft, steady smile, "I'll make sure it's unforgettable."
Not long after they quickly finish shopping and Lian Hao followed Han Yuzhou to his car in which he opens the door for him. Lian Hao gets inside and tells him the address. The car ride to Lian Hao's apartment was nervewrecking, he was so nervous. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest.
He looks over to see Han Yuzhou who seems calm as he focuses on driving. Han Yuzhou could see from the corner of his eye that the young man beside him was nervous.
How adorable.
Moments later they had arrived outside the apartment complex. Han Yuzhou parked the car close to the entrance for convenience. When they arrived, Lian Hao leads him to the entrance of his apartment.
Han Yuzho followed him up the narrow stairwell, the kind where the walls echoed faint sounds from neighboring apartments—distant voices, a dog barking, a radio humming. The steps creaked beneath their feet, and the air smelled faintly of old wood and laundry detergent.
And then, they stepped inside, Lian Hao smiles with an almost sheepish glow. "It's a bit small… but it's home for now."
Lian Hao's apartment was tiny. Humble. Lived-in. One window, sheer curtains. A worn-out couch tucked beneath a small bookshelf. The kitchen was barely more than a corner. The walls were lined with small canvases—some finished, others half-done—and glass jars filled with brushes and dried paint.
Han Yuzhou's sharp eyes took everything in at once.
The uneven rug. The secondhand table. The single bedroom door, left slightly ajar. And the faint smell of citrus from the freshly mopped floor.
This… is where he lives?
A furrow appeared between his brows.
It wasn't disgust—no. It was something closer to… irritation. Displeasure. This place was not fit for someone like Lian Hao. Someone so vivid. Someone whose smile had clung to Han's thoughts for hours after their first meeting.
Lian Hao looked back at him, catching the change in his expression. "I told you it's a bit cramped," he said, a little laugh in his voice as he slipped out of his coat and hung it behind the door. "I'm used to it."
Han said nothing at first. His gaze drifted toward a cracked ceramic cup on the windowsill.
"You live alone?" he asked, his voice low.
Lian Hao nodded, already barefoot and moving toward the kitchen with unbothered grace. "Mhm. Just me. It's peaceful, and I can paint as late as I want without anyone complaining."
He didn't like the idea of Lian Hao living in such smallness. Like beauty pressed into a too-tight frame. No, this space did not reflect the boy who had unknowingly drawn his attention.
It was... lacking.
And Han Yuzhou never tolerated anything that lacked, especially not for someone who had begun to haunt his thoughts. But for now he would supress it as to not scare the angel.
Dinner dwindled into a comfortable hush, the clinking of spoons against plates giving way to the occasional soft sip of tea. The scent of spices still lingered in the air, warm and rich—just like the silence between them. Lian Hao rested his chin lightly in his palm, gazing across the table at Han Yuzhou, whose presence—still so composed—felt heavier now, deeper, like he'd settled into the room and taken part of it with him.
Han's long fingers traced the rim of his cup as he spoke, his voice lower than before, almost too smooth. "What's your plan for tomorrow?"
Lian Hao blinked, surprised by the casual question from someone who was anything but casual. He straightened a little, brushing his fringe back behind his ear. "Tomorrow? It's Saturday, so… I'll probably head back to the cafe. I still have a commission to finish."
Han Yuzhou hummed, a sound of thought or approval—maybe both. He set his cup down with care and leaned forward just a little, his dark eyes focused entirely on Lian Hao now.
"I see," he said, voice dipped in something close to fondness. "Then that means I'll have another chance to watch you paint."
Lian Hao's heart stuttered.
He tried to ignore the rush of warmth that crept up his neck, but it was impossible under that gaze—intense and unreadable. A soft smile curled at his lips instead, playful but just a touch shy. "Oh? Were you really watching me that much?"
Han didn't blink. "I didn't look away once."
The breath caught in Lian Hao's throat.
Suddenly the air between them felt tighter, the silence stretched and humming with unspoken things. The lamp above the table flickered slightly as if reacting to the tension building like static between two magnets too stubborn to touch—but too drawn to pull away.
"You don't hold back much, do you?" Lian Hao whispered, his voice barely above a breath.
"I never do," Han replied. "Not when I want something."
A beat.
Their eyes locked. Time softened around the edges.
Lian Hao lowered his gaze first, flustered and laughing gently to defuse the spark. "Well, I'll be at the cafe from ten. You're welcome to come and… watch again."
Han Yuzhou rose slowly from his chair, crossing the small space between them. He didn't touch him—no, not yet. But he leaned close enough for Lian Hao to feel the faint scent of bergamot and leather clinging to his suit. His voice brushed against Lian Hao's ear like a secret.
"Don't tempt me."
Lian Hao's breath hitched.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Han added, straightening and moving toward the door with calm, deliberate steps.
And just like that—without a kiss, without a touch—he had unraveled something inside Lian Hao that left him blinking, dazed, heart beating far too fast for someone just cleaning up after dinner.
He hadn't done anything extraordinary. He hadn't tried to impress or seduce. And yet, Han Yuzhou, with his composed demeanor and sharp intellect, seemed... captivated.
"System?" Lian Hao called out, his voice tinged with uncertainty..
"Yes, Host."
"Is Han Yuzhou's reaction normal?" Lian Hao asked, pacing slightly. "I mean, I don't think I've done that much for him to be very interested in me from the get-go..."
The System's voice was calm, almost amused.
"Host, Han Yuzhou is a man of few words and even fewer expressions. When he shows interest, it's not a fleeting thing. He doesn't waste time on trivialities."
Lian Hao paused, absorbing the information. "So, you're saying... he's genuinely interested?"
"Affirmative. His actions, his attention—they all point to one conclusion."
A soft smile tugged at Lian Hao's lips. "Well, then. I suppose I have my answer."