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Alexander, the prince of a smart home group who returned from overseas, was parachuted in as the regional president. He discovered that the head of the law firm cooperating with him in the acquisition case was actually his first love Charlotte, who broke up five years ago. When family infighting met patent wars, the two old lovers who reunited in the business world, in the construction of the smart ecological chain and the old city renovation plan, uncovered the secrets of their breakup and jointly protected the glory of domestic technology brands.

Dusk Like You

Cloudhaven Tech Summit – Grand Ballroom

The holographic chandelier above Charlotte's head projected real-time stock tickers instead of crystals. Each floating numeral burned Morningstar's plummeting share price into her retina—47.32,47.32,46.89, $46.15—as the crowd's whispers coagulated around her.

"...married in Vegas during CES 2022..."

"...corporate merger literally..."

Alexander materialized at the champagne tower, his charcoal suit cut to knife-edge precision. The crowd parted like RFID tags before a scanner.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Zhou." He clinked his tumbler against her mineral water. "Our #FakeWeddingTrending is beating K-pop scandals on Weibo."

Charlotte's smart bracelet vibrated—heart rate 122 bpm. She throttled the impulse to hurl her clutch at his symmetrical face. "Your PR team's deepfake needs work. My left earlobe doesn't freckle."

"Yet you kept the ring." His gaze dropped to her right hand where Morningstar's prototype smart ring glowed, its micro-LEDs cycling through error codes.

The lights dimmed for the keynote. As 3D projections of smart toilets filled the dome, Charlotte hissed, "That surveillance footage was shot last night."

"At Lin's Repair?" Alexander's cufflink snagged her pearl necklace. "Odd venue for a honeymoon."

"You switched the tapes." She pivoted, forcing him into a holographic waterfall that rippled across his torso. "What's on Side B?"

His laugh harmonized with the fake rushing water. "Your childhood rendition of our wedding march. Key of C-sharp, heavy on the glockenspiel."

The CEO of Thunderbolt Appliances took the stage. Charlotte's breath hitched—the man held a patent folder stamped with her father's old employee code.

Alexander's hand closed over her vibrating wrist. "Breathe. Your cortisol levels are frying my watch."

Their struggle sent a champagne flute crashing. The holograms flickered, bathing them in strobing blue light. For three consecutive flashes, the entire summit witnessed Morningstar's heir pinning his alleged bride against a server rack, her stiletto digging into his bespoke Oxford.

"The thermal cutoff." Charlotte grasped his loosened tie. "Why did your father remove it?"

"Same reason you still wear my class ring." He pressed closer, the RFID chip in his lapel activating her bracelet's emergency alert. "Sentiment kills profit."

In the primal dark, Alexander's lips found the freckle behind her ear—the one no deepfake could replicate. "They're coming for the tape."

"The ghosts in your father's machine."

Emergency lights revealed three figures in N95 masks dismantling the AV booth. Charlotte's stolen employee badge glinted in their leader's hand.

Alexander shoved her toward the service elevator. "Go!"

"To erase the evidence?" He peeled back his collar, revealing fresh burns along his circuitry tattoo. "They already tried."

The elevator doors closed on his smirk. Charlotte's reflection in the scratched steel showed pearls askew, lipstick smeared—and the holographic chandelier's last projection burned into the ceiling:

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