The sky was gray when she arrived at Li Corporation.
Her heels tapped gently against the polished floors of the towering building. She had worn a simple blouse tucked neatly into a navy skirt, her hair tied into a low bun. Understated. Modest. Invisible, if such a thing was possible while carrying the Li name.
The receptionist looked up, startled, when she handed her transfer papers.
"Name?"
"Xu Meilin."
The woman blinked once, then twice.
"Oh. I see. You're…"
Her words trailed off, replaced with a strained smile.
"Of course. This way, Madam—I mean… Assistant Xu."
It began.
---
The stares were the worst.
Not loud. Not hostile.
Just sharp. Measuring.
Dissecting.
The CEO's wife working among them? A ridiculous concept.
People stopped whispering when she walked into rooms. Some didn't bother hiding their laughter.
Others just avoided her completely.
At lunch, she sat alone , not because she wanted to, but because chairs conveniently "filled up" when she approached.
In the breakroom, someone muttered behind her back, "She probably cried to Grandma Li and now she wants to play employee."
The words landed like stones.
But Meilin only smiled.
Because a smile was all she had ever been taught to use.
---
Her desk was in the far corner of the PR division's second floor , next to the copy machine that never worked and beneath the flickering light no one bothered to fix.
The work was dry. Mostly scheduling, filtering emails, compiling reports she didn't fully understand. She read them anyway, highlighter in hand, scribbling notes in the margins long after everyone else had gone home.
She wasn't sure if she was learning fast.
But she was trying.
Trying so hard it made her chest ache by evening.
---
By the end of her first week, she'd learned three things:
1. Most of her colleagues saw her as a joke.
2. Her manager barely acknowledged her.
3. The only person who treated her like she mattered… was Li Zeyan.
But even he did so like a shadow , never directly. Never with kindness.
Just silence that carved out space for her to breathe.
---
One afternoon, she stood in front of the elevator with a box of documents in her hands when two female staffers walked by, not noticing how close she stood.
"She's so plain. No degree in business, no real skills , just a pretty face and a famous last name."
"Maybe she's good in bed. That's how women like that survive."
Laughter.
Sharp. Cold.
Meilin didn't flinch.
But her grip on the box tightened until the edges bent under her fingers.
Just as the elevator opened, someone stepped out.
Li Zeyan.
Tall. Cold. Impeccable.
He stopped. Saw her. Saw the box. The papers crushed. Her eyes still steady.
The two women froze mid-laugh.
Li Zeyan looked at Meilin first , and without a word, took the box from her hands and stepped into the elevator again, holding the documents like they were made of gold.
"Are you coming?" he asked calmly.
She nodded and followed.
He didn't speak during the ride down. Just held the box. Just stood there. Just existed ,but somehow, it was enough.
---
Later that day, she returned to her desk to find a new desk lamp.
Elegant. Soft gold. Warm light.
A note beneath it, unsigned but unmistakable in his writing:
> "Change the flickering one. It's giving you headaches."
She read it twice, then tucked it inside her drawer.
Her lips trembled.
But she didn't smile.
---
That evening, as she walked toward the parking garage alone, her phone buzzed.
A message.
Zeyan.
> "Your card access has been updated. You now have access to the upper floor library and strategy lounge."
No greeting. No signature.
Just facts.
But facts that said: I see you.
---
In the darkness of her room later that night, Xu Meilin sat by the window of the Moon Pavilion.
The black card still lay untouched in her drawer.
But now, beside it, rested the note from him… and the tiny spark that she was no longer completely alone.
And somehow, despite everything ,
Despite the whispers, the cold stares, and the pain of invisibility ,
She whispered aloud to herself:
"I belong here."