The Man with Secrets

The car door shut with a quiet finality.

Yiran settled into the seat, her posture composed, but inside—her thoughts were anything but.

The low hum of the engine filled the space as the car pulled away from the estate, the distant glow of the venue fading behind them.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Lu Zeyan sat beside her, his gaze fixed on the darkened cityscape beyond the window.

Calm. Unbothered.

As if the past hour hadn't happened.

Yiran exhaled lightly, her fingers smoothing over the silk of her dress.

Then, finally—she spoke.

"What the hell was that?"

Her voice was quiet, measured. But beneath it, the tension was sharp.

Lu Zeyan didn't react immediately.

Didn't turn toward her.

Then—slowly—he smirked.

"The part where you held your own against Xu Haoran?"

Yiran's jaw tightened slightly. "The part where I walked into something I wasn't prepared for."

Lu Zeyan let out a low hum, as if considering something.

Then, with complete ease, he said—"You should get used to that."

Yiran's fingers curled against her lap.

That wasn't an answer.

That was a warning.

Her chest tightened with frustration, but she forced herself to remain composed.

She turned slightly toward him, her eyes sharp. "Did you bring me there to see if I'd fail?"

This time, Lu Zeyan did look at her.

And for a second—just a second—she swore she saw something flicker in his expression.

Not amusement.

Not indifference.

Something calculating.

Then, just as quickly, it was gone.

His lips curved slightly. "You didn't."

Yiran inhaled through her nose, forcing down the irritation that threatened to rise.

He wasn't going to tell her anything.

At least—not yet.

Her gaze flicked toward the passing city lights.

Then, in a voice quieter than before, she murmured—"It wasn't about Yuxuan, was it?"

A beat of silence.

Then—Lu Zeyan's smirk disappeared.

The shift was subtle.

Small.

But Yiran felt it.

He didn't confirm.

Didn't deny.

And somehow, that was worse.

Silence filled the car.

Not the comfortable kind.

The kind that suffocates, that leaves too many unanswered questions hanging between two people.

Lu Zeyan didn't react to her words.

Didn't confirm. Didn't deny.

He just watched her.

And somehow, that was more unsettling than if he had spoken.

Yiran's fingers curled against her dress.

She wasn't stupid.

If this was about Yuxuan, Lu Zeyan would have brushed it off. He would have smirked, given her one of his cryptic little remarks, and changed the subject.

But he didn't.

Instead—he had gone quiet.

And that silence told her one thing.

This wasn't about Yuxuan anymore.

She inhaled, steadying herself. "How long have you known?"

Lu Zeyan tilted his head slightly, as if amused. "Known what?"

Yiran didn't blink. "That this was never just about a marriage."

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his gaze.

Then—he leaned back against the seat, exhaling lightly.

"You're asking the wrong questions."

Yiran's chest tightened. "Then what's the right one?"

Lu Zeyan smirked faintly, but there was no humor in it.

"You'll figure it out soon enough."

A slow, quiet frustration burned inside her.

It was always this with him.

A game of half-truths, of saying everything without saying anything at all.

She turned away, watching the city lights blur past.

The streets were quieter now, the soft hum of the car's engine the only sound in the stillness of the night.

And yet—

Something felt wrong.

A quiet pressure at the back of her neck.

A feeling she had ignored before, but now…

Now, she was sure.

Someone was watching.

Her gaze flicked toward the side mirror.

For a brief second—**just a second—**she thought she saw something.

A shadow. A figure.

Standing just beyond the edge of a dimly lit alley as they passed.

Then—gone.

Yiran's fingers tightened against her lap.

This wasn't paranoia.

It wasn't her imagination.

Someone was following them.

Yiran didn't turn her head.

Didn't react.

Didn't let even the smallest flicker of tension show on her face.

But inside—her instincts screamed.

She had spent years perfecting the art of silence, of keeping herself unnoticed in the Xia household.

And now—she was using those same skills for something else.

Something far more dangerous.

Carefully, she shifted her gaze—not directly, just enough to use the reflection in the window.

Nothing.

The streets passed in a blur, empty at this late hour.

Had she imagined it?

No.

The weight of being watched, the subtle presence at the edge of her awareness—it was real.

She just had to prove it.

Slowly, she adjusted her posture, resting her fingers against the smooth silk of her gown. A controlled movement—but one that let her angle the side mirror into view.

And then—

There.

A figure, far enough behind that most wouldn't notice.

A shape moving too steadily, too deliberately.

Not a random pedestrian.

Someone keeping pace with their car.

Yiran's breath stayed even.

She let the moment stretch, watching, confirming.

And just as she was sure—

Lu Zeyan spoke.

"You're tense."

Her heart clenched.

Had he noticed?

Did he know?

Yiran met his gaze, her expression smooth. "Am I?"

Lu Zeyan smirked faintly. "You've been quiet."

She exhaled lightly, fingers grazing the champagne flute that had been left on the armrest. A distraction.

"I didn't realize silence bothered you."

Lu Zeyan's gaze flickered with something unreadable.

Then, just as smoothly, he murmured—"It doesn't."

Her pulse tightened.

He had noticed her change in behavior.

But he hadn't asked why.

Which meant one of two things.

Either he didn't care.

Or—

He already knew.

Yiran's fingers curled lightly against the fabric of her gown.

The shadow was gone.

One moment it had been there, lingering just at the edge of the street.

And now—nothing.

No figure in the reflection. No sign of movement in the darkened alleys they passed.

Had they stopped following?

Or had they simply fallen back into the shadows, waiting?

A quiet chill crawled up her spine.

She had two choices.

One: Tell Lu Zeyan what she saw.

Two: Say nothing.

Logic told her she should say something.

Even if she wasn't sure whether this figure was connected to Yuxuan, the Lu family, or something else entirely—it was still a threat.

And Lu Zeyan had the power to do something about it.

But then—

Hadn't he noticed?

A man like Lu Zeyan, who operated in cold calculations and unseen control—would he really be unaware of someone following them?

No.

Which meant…

He already knew.

Yiran inhaled slowly, keeping her expression smooth. "Are we heading straight home?"

Lu Zeyan glanced at her, a flicker of amusement in his gaze. "You sound disappointed."

She offered a faint smile. "Should I be?"

He hummed, tapping his fingers once against the leather armrest. "That depends."

Yiran waited.

But he didn't elaborate.

Of course.

Always saying just enough to keep her questioning.

She turned toward the window again, watching the streets blur past.

The car was already nearing the Lu estate, the quiet hum of the engine filling the silence between them.

And yet—she still couldn't shake the feeling.

Even if the figure was gone.

Even if the streets were empty.

They weren't alone.

The car rolled to a slow stop.

Yiran's fingers tensed slightly against her lap.

For a brief second, she hesitated.

The estate looked the same.

The grand iron gates stood tall, unmoving. The soft glow of exterior lights illuminated the driveway in perfect golden hues. The house itself—silent, pristine.

Nothing seemed out of place.

And yet—

Something was wrong.

She didn't know how she knew.

Only that she did.

Lu Zeyan stepped out of the car first, his movements unhurried. Unbothered.

As if he hadn't just spent the evening watching her navigate a conversation full of hidden traps.

As if he hadn't noticed the shadow in the streets.

As if he wasn't hiding something.

Yiran inhaled slowly, pushing the feeling down as she stepped out after him.

The night air was cool against her skin.

Still.

Too still.

She walked carefully, her heels clicking softly against the stone pathway leading toward the entrance.

A light breeze stirred the trees along the estate's edge.

She glanced toward them—just for a second.

Nothing.

But…

Her pulse tightened.

Had someone been standing there just moments ago?

Her gaze flicked to Lu Zeyan, but he was already walking ahead.

No hesitation. No caution.

As if the weight pressing against her shoulders didn't exist for him.

Yiran exhaled, straightening her posture as she followed.

The grand doors opened smoothly at their arrival.

A staff member bowed slightly, murmuring a quiet, "Welcome home, Master, Madam."

Lu Zeyan barely acknowledged them, moving toward the main hallway.

Yiran hesitated just a fraction of a second before stepping inside.

The doors shut behind her.

And then—

She saw it.

The envelope.

A small, unassuming red envelope, placed carefully on the marble table near the entrance.

Her breath caught.

The same kind of envelope as before.

The one that had asked her—

Who are you?

Her pulse pounded as she stepped closer, fingers reaching for it.

She unfolded the fine paper inside.

This time, there was only one sentence.

"You are running out of time."