The signature was still drying on the paper when silence filled the room.
Lawyer Chen capped his pen slowly, his calm face showing nothing. Assistant Qin stood nearby, tablet in hand, ready to carry out orders that would shake Beijing.
But all Zhao Mei could hear was her own heartbeat.
She didn't look at the contract again. She couldn't.
I signed it. I'm married. To a man I don't really know.
Her throat tightened. She reached for her pocket, searching for her phone. The one thing that connected her to the only friend she had.
Nothing.
The hollow feeling in her chest grew.
Xiao Lan. I want to call you. I want to hear someone tell me I didn't make a mistake. That I'm not crazy. That I'm not alone.
But there was no phone. No comforting voice. Just silence.
And a man who was watching her too closely.
Zhang Wei stepped forward.
"Miss Zhao."
She looked up slowly.
His voice was quieter now, but still firm. "Stop calling me sir. We're married now. Even if it's temporary, it has to look real."
Her breath caught.
He leaned slightly closer. She could smell cedar and something expensive.
"When you speak to me," he said, "use my name."
Her lips parted. "Your name?"
His expression softened just a little. "Wei."
The name felt heavy. Important. Too personal.
She swallowed. "Wei."
Zhang Wei breathed in sharply. Just once. So quick she almost missed it.
But she caught it.
Her ears turned pink and she looked away fast.
Lawyer Chen cleared his throat. "If both parties agree, the marriage contract is now legal. Young Master, should Assistant Qin release the public statement?"
Wei straightened, his face cold again. "Yes. Send it now. Make sure it says the Zhang family fully supports this marriage."
Assistant Qin nodded, typing quickly. His fingers shook slightly. He knew what this meant.
"Yes, Young Master. I'll send it to the press right away, including the family endorsement."
"Good." Wei turned back to Zhao Mei. "Come with me."
She blinked. "What?"
"We're not done. You need to meet the household staff."
Her pulse jumped. His staff? All of them?
She stood slowly, her knees weak, and followed him out of the office.
At the same time, the internet was exploding.
Weibo was going crazy. Trending topics filled the screen.
ZhangWeiMarried. MysteryBrideIdentified. ScandalGirlTurnsYoungMadam. BeijingPowerShift.
Millions of comments poured in.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE BILLIONAIRE IS MARRIED?"
"TO HER? The girl from the video?"
"Is this a PR stunt or what?"
"She must be really lucky. Or he's really stupid."
"Plot twist of the YEAR."
Some people supported them. Some accused them. Some just screamed into their phones.
But one question kept coming up everywhere.
"Who is Zhao Mei?"
In the back kitchen of a small café, Xiao Lan was wiping sweat from her face.
Steam from boiling water clung to her skin. Her shift had been brutal. Customers yelling orders. Heavy trays. Cheap coffee. Stale pastries.
During a short break, she leaned against the counter and scrolled through her phone.
Then she saw the headline.
"Zhang Wei Married to Mystery Woman: Family in Full Support."
She blinked. Her heart skipped.
The photo was blurry, but she'd recognize that face anywhere. Zhao Mei. Her best friend.
The tray in her other hand slipped and crashed to the floor. Ceramic shattered. Sugar packets scattered everywhere.
Customers stared. Her boss yelled from the register.
She didn't care.
"WHAT? MEI?"
Her hands shook as she zoomed in, reading it again. Married. To a billionaire. Overnight.
"Mei married a billionaire? MY Mei?"
Memories flooded back. Late night talks in their shared dorm room. Mei's quiet dreams of a simple life away from her cruel family. Xiao Lan had always been the protector, the one who fought back when people pushed Mei around.
And now this? A marriage that screamed desperation or maybe a trap.
She dialed Mei's number, fumbling with her phone.
Unavailable.
She tried again, pacing the narrow kitchen, bumping into shelves.
Nothing.
Her voice cracked. "Where are you? Are you safe? Mei, please tell me this isn't some nightmare. Please tell me nobody forced you into this."
Tears burned her eyes. If Mei was in danger, if this marriage was anything but her choice, Xiao Lan would drop everything. She'd storm that mansion herself if she had to.
Her heart pounded with loyalty and fear.
"If anyone bullies you, I swear I'll make them pay ten times over."
But the phone stayed silent, and the ache in her chest grew deeper.
At Madam Zhao's house, things were very different.
In the dim, cluttered living room, Madam Zhao sat on the sagging couch, fanning herself with a magazine. The air smelled like overcooked rice. Her two sons were nearby. One picking his nose. The other on his phone, laughing at videos.
A news alert pinged.
Her son sat up. "Mother, look at this. Zhao Mei's in the headlines."
Madam Zhao snatched the phone. Her eyes narrowed.
"Zhang Wei Announces Marriage to Zhao Mei: Zhang Family in Full Support."
"WHAT? MARRIED? HER? TO HIM?"
She slapped her son's arm so hard he yelped.
"That girl is a fox. A homewrecker. No wonder she left. She went to seduce a billionaire while we rot here."
Memories bubbled up. Zhao Mei, the unwanted foster daughter. Always quiet. Always enduring. Madam Zhao had enjoyed that power. Assigning endless chores. Putting her down. It was supposed to keep her in line, not send her to luxury.
Her other son cursed and slammed his fist on the coffee table. "Now she'll live in mansions while we're stuck in this dump? With servants and maids? That ungrateful wretch."
Madam Zhao's eyes burned with rage and envy. She'd dreamed of wealth for her own sons, not this outsider. How dare Mei escape?
"She won't last long," she hissed. "Mark my words. Fortunes like that chew up girls like her. And when she falls, she'll come crawling back begging."
But deep down, doubt gnawed at her. What if Mei didn't fall? What if this was permanent?
The thought fueled her bitterness into a slow burning fire.
Fang Hua was at an exclusive spa when she saw the news.
She was reclining in a plush chair, steam rising around her. The air smelled like lavender. Soft music played. A therapist was massaging her temples.
Her phone vibrated on the side table.
She glanced at it lazily, expecting another admirer's message.
Instead, the screen lit up with notifications. Headlines. Alerts.
"Zhang Wei Married: To the Scandal Girl. Family Backs the Union."
Her body went cold.
She sat up fast, knocking over a bottle of oil that spilled across the floor.
"He married her?"
The therapist paused. "Miss Fang? Are you alright?"
Fang Hua didn't answer. Her hand throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the pain in her chest.
That position was supposed to be mine.
Memories hit her hard. Stolen glances with Wei at family gatherings. Late night calls where he'd confided in her. The unspoken promise of a future together. She'd played along with his mother's schemes, been the perfect ally, all for this.
Now, stolen by some nobody from a scandal video.
She stumbled to the mirror in the wash room. Her reflection stared back. Flawless makeup. Elegant features. But her eyes were hollow with betrayal.
Tears threatened, but she blinked them away and replaced them with steel.
"I won't let her take him," she whispered, her voice shaking. "This isn't over. Not even close."
The spa's peaceful atmosphere felt like a mockery now. She'd regroup. Plan. Strike when it hurt most.
Back at the mansion, the main hall filled quickly.
Maids lined up. Butler Li stood at the front. Security guards in uniform formed a silent row. The chef whispered to his assistant. Junior maids exchanged looks.
"Is that really her?"
"She's so plain."
"She doesn't look like a Young Madam."
"Why her? Why not Miss Fang?"
"Did he actually fall for her?"
The whispers cut like knives.
Then footsteps echoed. Sharp. Certain. Commanding.
The room went silent as Zhang Wei entered with Zhao Mei beside him.
He held her wrist lightly, guiding her forward.
Gasps. Murmurs. Bows.
Zhao Mei felt heat crawl up her neck, but she kept her eyes down, fingers clutched together.
They're all staring at me. They're judging me. I don't belong here.
Wei stepped in front of her. His voice was calm but deadly.
"Enough."
The murmuring stopped instantly.
He looked at them one by one.
"This is Miss Zhang. Your Young Madam."
A ripple went through the hall.
Some bowed deeper. Some stiffened. Some rolled their eyes when he wasn't looking.
Wei continued, his voice cutting through the tension. "She's new to this household. New to our world. You will support her. You will guide her. And you will respect her."
Then his voice sharpened. "If you value your position here, you will treat her as you treat me."
A maid swallowed hard. A guard straightened. Someone whispered, trembling, "He's serious."
The air felt heavy.
Then the doors burst open.
Madam Zhang stormed in. Her heels clapped furiously against the marble. Her eyes blazed.
"Zhang Wei!"
She slapped him across the face.
The sound cracked through the hall like thunder.
Mei gasped. The staff froze. Wei didn't flinch.
Madam Zhang pointed at him, shaking. "How dare you. HOW DARE YOU release a statement saying our family supports this marriage without my permission?"
Her chest heaved. "You think you can make decisions that drag the Zhang name into scandal? Into chaos? With her? This low class…"
"Mother."
Wei's voice, low and dangerous, made the entire hall tremble.
"Don't finish that sentence."
Her eyes widened slightly.
Wei continued, each word sharp as ice. "You have no solution to this crisis. You brought me no answers. And you lost the right to question my decisions the moment you let this situation spiral without lifting a finger."
Madam Zhang recoiled, stunned.
He stepped closer. "This marriage stabilizes the company. This marriage protects both parties. And this girl," he turned to Zhao Mei, "is now my legal wife."
He met his mother's gaze, unwavering. "Anyone who tries to harm her will go through me first."
The hall remained frozen. Silent. Breathless.
Madam Zhang's lips trembled, not just with rage, but with something bitter. Guilt. Humiliation. Fear.
But she said nothing.
She turned sharply and walked out. Her heels echoed like gunshots.
Wei took Zhao Mei's hand gently.
"Come."
His voice softened, just for her.
She followed him without thinking. Her heartbeat thundered. Her palm felt too small inside his.
They left the hall in heavy silence.
Behind them, whispers exploded the second the door closed.
Later that night, Zhang Wei sat alone in his private lounge.
Winter city lights reflected off the glass walls. He poured himself a drink. Rare, bitter whiskey.
Marriage. Not in his plans. Not on his path. Not even in his imagination.
He'd survived assassination attempts. Family betrayals. Corporate wars.
But this?
He took a slow sip, the burn sliding down his throat.
The memory returned. Her voice, trembling as she said, "Wei."
It hit him somewhere he didn't recognize. Soft. Unguarded. Stirring something he'd buried under layers of ambition and caution.
Then another memory surfaced. His mother's smile at the party. Her hand passing him a drink. The bitterness on his tongue. The world blurring.
A cold thought entered his mind.
Would she stoop that low? To manipulate her own son for some gain?
He hated himself for even considering it. She was his mother. Flawed, ambitious, but family.
Yet the suspicion didn't leave.
He pulled out his phone.
"Elite Unit. I want everything from that night investigated again."
"The hotel. The staff. Chen Rong."
He hesitated. The words felt heavy.
"And my mother's movements."
He ended the call and stared at the city, wondering how long it would stand before the truths he uncovered tore it apart.
In the East Wing, Zhao Mei sat on the bed with her hands folded tightly.
The mansion was quiet. Too big. Too empty.
She reached for her phone again, then remembered. Lost. Gone.
Her only friend, out of reach.
Her eyes burned. Tears blurred the patterns on the silk duvet.
"I wish you were here, Lan Lan."
She hugged her knees, rocking slightly. The huge room made her loneliness feel bigger.
Memories of Xiao Lan's laughter, her fierce hugs, her support. They were all she had now.
She wanted someone to tell her she wasn't crazy. That she wasn't dreaming. That she wasn't drowning in a world not built for her.
In the silence, she whispered softly, "Wei."