Chapter 2 - The Contract on Formica
The tea shop was three streets away, tucked behind a wholesale fish market where the air smelled of salt, crushed ice, and dying carp. It was the kind of place where the tables were covered in sticky green Formica and the tea was served in glass jars with cracked plastic lids.
Lu Zongheng sat across from her, his long legs folded awkwardly beneath the small wooden bench. He had shed his ruined coat, revealing a charcoal-gray silk shirt underneath that was immaculate, unwrinkled, and fitted to his broad shoulders with surgical precision. The contrast between his filth-smeared jaw and the five-thousand-dollar shirt was absurd, yet somehow, sitting in this greasy spoon, he looked like a king inspecting a poorly swept courtyard.
On the table between them lay a five-page document. It hadn't come from a coat pocket; a man in a plain black suit had walked into the tea shop two minutes after they sat down, set a leather folder on the table without speaking a single word, and vanished back into the street.
"Read clause four," Lu Zongheng said, sipping the lukewarm Jasmine tea without a flinch.
Lin Chen pushed her hair back, her eyes scanning the dense, lawyerly text.
Clause 4.1: The Party of the Second Part (Lin Chen) shall enter into a legal, civil marriage with the Party of the First Part (Lu Zongheng) for a duration not less than three hundred and sixty-five (365) days.
Clause 4.2: In consideration for the performance of marital duties—defined exclusively as public appearances, cohabitation at the residence specified in Schedule A, and absolute discretion regarding the private affairs of the Party of the First Part—the Party of the First Part shall liquidate all outstanding medical liabilities associated with St. Mary's Account #8892 (Lin Meihua).
Clause 4.3: Upon the successful conclusion of the term, Party of the Second Part shall receive a final settlement of Forty Million Yuan (40,000,000 RMB), free of encumbrance.
"Forty million," Lin Chen whispered, her throat dry. "You were begging for steamed buns twenty minutes ago."
"I was conducting an evaluation," Lu Zongheng said coldly. "My board of directors believes I am unfeeling. Unpredictable. They have spent the last six months attempting to trigger a key-man clause in my employment contract on the grounds of emotional instability. To block them, my grandfather's will requires me to be married to a woman who is not affiliated with any of the major financial syndicates in the capital."
"So you went down to the market to buy a beggar's choice?"
"I went down to find someone who wouldn't sell their soul for a hundred yuan," he corrected, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "I watched fourteen people walk past me this morning. Three of them were my own senior vice presidents. One of them kicked my shoe. Another threw a half-eaten cigarette at my chest. You were the only person who looked at me like a human being before you looked at your wallet."
Lin Chen laughed, a dry, bitter sound. "I didn't do it out of noble character, Mr. Lu. I did it because my mother taught me that if you have twenty yuan and someone else has zero, you give them ten."
"And that," Lu Zongheng said, knocking his knuckles against the Formica, "is precisely why you are worth forty million to me. A woman with a conscience is impossible to bribe by my board. They can offer you cars, clothes, houses—it won't move you if you think it hurts your mother. I am buying your stubbornness, Miss Lin. Not your love."
Lin Chen looked at the silver pen resting on top of the leather folder.
In her head, a clock was ticking. Thursday. The dialysis center at St. Mary's didn't care about dignity or conscience; they cared about wire transfers. If her uncle succeeded in freezing her mother's secondary account by noon tomorrow, the hospital would move her mother from the private care wing to a general ward on the sixth floor—where the nurse-to-patient ratio was one to forty, and the air smelled of bleach and dying hopes.
"I have three conditions," Lin Chen said, picking up the pen.
Lu Zongheng didn't look surprised. "Name them."
"First: my mother never finds out this is a business arrangement. She thinks I met a nice man who works in logistics."
"Done."
"Second: we live in separate rooms. You don't touch me without my permission, not even if we're standing in front of your board of directors."
"I have no interest in your person, Miss Lin," he said flatly. "Physical intimacy is not required for a corporate defense strategy."
"Third," she said, her eyes narrowing as she pointed the pen at his nose. "You buy me a proper bowl of beef noodles. The twenty yuan I gave you was my breakfast money, and I'm starving."
May you like
For the first time since she had seen him under the awning, a genuine, unscripted flicker of amusement passed across Lu Zongheng's face.
"Done," he said.
