First Meeting.

Jian Yu tilted her head, her ponytail swaying with the motion.

She watched the man from earlier talking to the receptionist. His sharp gaze and chiseled features made the receptionist's cheeks flush like ripe cherries, and she shuttered as she spoke to him. Nearby doctors, nurses, staff, and even patients and their families took sneaky glances at him.

But that was to be expected. The man before them was sculpted so perfectly that it made one wonder just how much of a bias the gods had when they created such a specimen.

He had a pair of inky-dark eyes, carrying an alluring aura that seemed to bewitch women with a mere glance. His sharp features were as cold as ice, and his straight nose sat high on his pale, clear face. His skin was so pale, Jian Yu, who prided herself on having decent skin, found herself envious. On top of that, he was dressed all in black, making him stand out even more—majestic, beautiful.

As the fluorescent lights flickered, shadows danced across his sharp cheekbones, giving him an almost ethereal appearance. It was as if he belonged to another world, a world where immortals and gods reigned supreme.

Jian Yu suddenly recalled an old saying.

They say female beauty causes calamity—but that was only because they hadn't encountered a male specimen like this one.

She sighed and shook her head.

[What a 'man fatal.']

Han Jue, who had been speaking to the receptionist, paused when a light, cheery voice suddenly resonated in his head. It was like a gentle spring breeze caressing his face. He turned, his eyes landing on the woman who seemed lost in her phone, her fingers moving deftly over the screen.

"Sir, there isn't any man admitted with the name you mentioned," the receptionist's voice pulled his attention back.

His brows furrowed, and he chose to inquire about the situation, not the person. "Then, did you see a woman come in with an elderly man?"

It was the most words Han Jue had spoken all day outside of a meeting.

The receptionist nodded in recognition. "Yes, sir."

"Give me the details," Han Jue commanded, his tone curt, as though it were a mere formality. A simple request, as if he had every right to demand such information, even though he was neither a police officer nor a government agent.

The receptionist hesitated, unsure if she should divulge any patient information. But her gaze landed on the girl from earlier, sitting in the corner, engrossed in her phone. Her eyes lit up with realization.

"Sir, I can't disclose any patient information, but the woman in the corner was the only one today to bring an elderly man. Perhaps you could ask her if the person you're looking for is the one you're referring to?" She pointed toward Jian Yu, her voice almost apologetic.

Han Jue knew exactly who the receptionist was talking about. He wasn't keen on speaking with her, though. Whenever he came within six feet of her, her voice would fill his head—voice no one else seemed to hear. Even now, standing several feet away, he could still hear faint grumble of her. He wondered why he alone could hear them, while everyone else remained oblivious.

Han Jue sighed and nodded at the receptionist. For now, his grandfather's treatment was the priority, and he couldn't afford to waste time on something that might just be a figment of his imagination.

Jian Yu, who had been trying to cancel her flight and get a refund, paused when she saw a pair of polished leather shoes appear in her line of sight.

She looked up, meeting a pair of inky eyes that seemed to hold the entire night sky within them, their depth endless. His hair was parted neatly, falling in soft waves that framed his face perfectly. The cold air around him seemed to emanate an almost otherworldly chill, making him appear like an immortal who had wandered into the mortal world for the very first time.

[This man is really 'man fatal.' Even with that expressionless face, he looks like a fallen god.]

Jian Yu sighed inwardly.

But unbeknownst to her, Han Jue heard every word, and his lips twitched.

Clearing his throat, Han Jue attempted to get Jian Yu's attention. "Your name," he commanded, his tone a little sharper than necessary. The young master Han had never needed to ask anyone for anything; people usually lined up to offer their names and life stories.

Jian Yu raised an eyebrow. Her almond-shaped eyes, framed by long, curling lashes, sparkled with life.

[Why does he want to know my name?]

Despite her thoughts, Jian Yu responded gently, "Jian Yu." She then waited, expecting the man to introduce himself.

But Han Jue didn't say a word. Instead, he parted his thin, sensual lips to ask, "Were you the one who brought an injured elderly man?"

He knew it was her, but he couldn't let her know that, so he asked anyway.

Jian Yu frowned disapprovingly. This man was rude—he hadn't even introduced himself and yet expected information from her. But she answered truthfully. Who knew, he could be related to the old man. "Yes."

Once she confirmed, Han Jue immediately asked, "Which room?" His expression remained cold, his voice as deep and icy as before.

[Alright, it's confirmed. This man is an iceberg—and rude, too!]

Han Jue's lips twitched again, but it was barely noticeable. He had never met a woman who thought of him as rude or cold. Most of the time, people were either intimidated by him or found him charming and mysterious, captivated by his aloof demeanor. He couldn't help but find this little creature's boldness intriguing. It was clear she didn't care about his looks, his wealth, or his status.

It was... interesting.

But Jian Yu didn't respond immediately. Instead, she crossed her arms and said, "Introduce yourself first, then I'll tell you."

[Who knows if he's some stalker or bill collector? He might even be a criminal in a good-looking guy's skin! After all, good-looking people often deceive.]

Young Master Han was a little speechless. He was used to reverence, fear, or occasional fawning admiration—not this. The young master, who could silence a boardroom with a glance, now found himself standing in front of a woman who seemed entirely unimpressed and even suspicious of him.

"His grandson," Han Jue answered curtly, annoyance creeping into his voice. He takes back his words. This woman wasn't interesting—she was just an irritating little creature.

Jian Yu tilted her head, narrowing her almond eyes. "Really? You don't look like him."

Han Jue blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well," Jian Yu said, crossing her arms and gesturing vaguely toward his face, "you look like a big bad villain from a K-drama, someone out for revenge. Your grandpa… looks normal. Like someone who enjoys dumplings and neighborhood gossip."

Han Jue stared at her, completely at a loss for words. Was she mocking him—or his grandfather?

"Room number?" He repeated icily, trying to regain control of the conversation.

But Jian Yu shrugged. "What if I don't feel like telling you? You didn't even thank me for helping him. And you're acting all…" She waved her hand up and down at him. "...human refrigerator."

Han Jue's jaw tightened, and a vein pulsed on his forehead. "Human refrigerator?"

Did this darn woman just—

"Yeah," Jian Yu replied matter-of-factly, her tone casual as if she were commenting on the weather. "Every time you open your mouth, cold air just spills out, like a freezer door opening. It's like standing in front of the North Pole."

For a moment, Young Master Han, who was used to people fawning over him, cowering in his presence, or desperately trying to gain his favor, stood there speechless for the first time in his life. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, completely unsure of how to respond to being compared to... an appliance.