Sunlight filtered through tall windows, casting pale gold across the hardwood floors. The mansion remained quiet, as if it too was still trying to make sense of the strange bond that now lived inside its walls.
Xu Meilin moved like a ghost.
Soft steps, quiet hands.
She poured tea for herself in the kitchen, her pale fingers steady despite the ache she still carried from the night before. There had been no breakfast call, no one waiting at the dining table.
Just silence.
But she was used to that.
She thought she was alone, until the butler appeared.
He walked toward her with an object in his gloved hands, a box.
Sleek. Matte black. No ribbon. No name.
The man gave a respectful bow before holding it out. "From the master."
Meilin blinked. "The… master?"
He nodded once, then turned and left without another word.
She stared at the box for a moment, unsure if she should even open it. But curiosity, or perhaps instinct, guided her fingers.
The lid lifted easily.
Inside, cushioned in velvet, lay a single object.
A black card.
Beautiful, smooth, and heavier than it looked.
Her name , Xu Meilin , was etched into it in delicate silver script, beneath the unmistakable insignia of the world's most exclusive credit network.
A black card.
Unlimited.
She had read about these. They were never applied for. Only given.
Only to those who lived in a world of silent power and wealth.
She should have felt excitement.
But instead, she felt a strange hollowness in her chest.
---
She found him hours later, in the study.
Li Zeyan sat behind his desk, the silver light of his laptop casting shadows across his face. His fingers moved over the keyboard in practiced rhythm.
He didn't look up.
"You received it."
His voice was emotionless. Crisp. Efficient.
She stood at the doorway, unsure if she should enter. "Yes," she said.
He finally raised his eyes. Cool and unreadable.
"Use it for whatever you need. Clothes. Jewelry. Cosmetics. Furniture, if you don't like what's here."
She said nothing.
After a pause, he added, "Your things are outdated."
Meilin's breath caught. Not visibly , just for a second.
So… he had noticed.
The worn soles of her shoes. The sleeves of her coat, carefully rolled. The faint wear of her only purse, stitched neatly in places.
But still, she kept her voice calm. "I don't need much."
Li Zeyan's gaze didn't falter. "Then consider it compensation."
She stilled.
Compensation?
So that's what this was.
Not a gesture. Not concern. Not a single drop of care.
Just a transaction. A silent way of saying, You belong to this world now. You cost something. And I'll pay for it.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of her sleeve.
She smiled faintly , the kind of smile that was all manners, no warmth.
"Thank you."
She turned to leave.
But his voice came again, lower this time.
"Xu Meilin."
She paused in the doorway.
He was watching her now. Not coldly. Not cruelly. But directly.
"You didn't eat anything yesterday."
The words surprised her.
She blinked. "I wasn't hungry."
"That wasn't the question."
The silence between them sharpened.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes never leaving her. "If you collapse, it'll become news. I don't like cleaning up after messes I didn't cause."
It was cruel , but she heard something beneath it.
Concern?
No. That was too soft a word.
Awareness.
He was watching her. He noticed her.
Even if he didn't want to.
She gave the smallest of nods. "I'll eat today."
He said nothing more.
She left the room.
But even after she disappeared down the hallway, Li Zeyan didn't go back to his laptop.
His fingers remained still.
And his gaze lingered on the doorway long after she was gone.
---
That evening, Meilin sat alone in the dining room.
The food was beautiful. Plated like art. But she ate slowly, absentmindedly.
The black card lay beside her on the table.
So powerful. So limitless.
But in her eyes, it was just a leash.
Still… it was the first thing she had received with her name on it.
Not "Xu family's daughter."
Not "the bride."
Just: Xu Meilin.
She didn't know why, but that detail mattered.
Somewhere in the corridor, she heard faint footsteps. A coat being dropped. A door closing.
Li Zeyan was home.
She didn't get up.
She didn't greet him.
But she placed the black card back into the box, closed the lid gently, and whispered:
"Thank you. For nothing."
Because a card was not kindness.
And money could never fix what had already been broken.
She went to the bed room to sleep. She wanted to rest and so she did. The day has ended so abruptly.